They probably would if Drich wasn't in control. Seeing how they originally ate galaxies themselves.
Shroud (Grey Goo game Shroud SI / Warhammer 40k)
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
Plus the Emprah doesn't light up the Astronomican until ~800.M30, and if the Warp Storm around Shroud!Drich is somehow deep enough to insulate her from the birth cries of Slaanesh then there is no way in hell she will be able to sense the Astronomican. Slaanesh's birth is orders of magnitude 'louder' than the Astronomican.
So Drich will either sense Slaanesh's birth centuries before the Astronomican shows up, or nothing at all until the Warp Storm subsides.
So Drich will either sense Slaanesh's birth centuries before the Astronomican shows up, or nothing at all until the Warp Storm subsides.
Last edited:
- Location
- Nice try
Well maybe the Shroud shift priority with the discover of the Warp, stand to reason in let a galaxy to live where it can feed itself of a endless source of energy. Still through I was half expecting the timeline be in the 40k instead of 30k.
About this, the birth of Slaneesh actually calm the Warp or become more anarchic?
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
Slaanesh's birth tears open the Eye of Terror, the force of which is so catastrophically massive that it 'blows away' the majority of the Warp Storms that had engulfed the galaxy during the Age of Strife, causing the Warp to calm down overall. But it also wakes up the other Ruinous Powers, so while the Warp is calmer on average, it is no longer undirected and without purpose.
So the Warp calms down, allowing FTL travel and communications to happen again, but the forces of Chaos become more organized.
Last edited:
The Shroud themselves only have one driving thought, to consume. They are essentially Tyranids, but with a different skin.
Dorn was the one who did the deed, Russ just took the credit.
'I knew them.' Dorn took another step towards the doors, silently reaching for deep memories of the two brothers. Not all the primarchs could say they had breathed the same air as the lost sons, but Dorn was one of the few. He had been with them, if only for a while.
'Have you ever wondered why none speak of them?' the Sigillite replied. 'Of course, there is the censure over all who know of the lost never to talk openly of their existence. Still, in the absence of fact all men will speculate. But you do not. The primarchs never speak of their lost kinsmen in anything but the vaguest of terms. Have you ever wondered why that is?'
'As you said, we are forbidden to do so.'
'Even when you are beyond your father's sight? Even when no one would be aware of such a discussion? Ask yourself why your thoughts always slip over recall of the lost and pass by.' Malcador bowed his head. 'What were they called, Rogal?' The Sigillite seemed almost sorrowful as he asked him. 'Your vanished brethren. Tell me their names and their titles.'
Dorn tried to grasp that vague recollection, tried to frame the questions that gnawed at him, but once more his perfect eidetic recall failed him. He could only see the phantoms of those moments. Holding on to them was like trying to capture smoke between his fingers.
'Their names were…' his mighty voice faltered. His brow creased in frustration. 'They were…'
To his horror, Dorn realised that he did not know. The awareness was there; he could almost see the shape of the knowledge out on the far horizon of his thoughts. But it retreated from his every effort to see it clearly. Each time he attempted to frame a memory of the lost, it was like fighting a tidal wave. Everything else is clear, but they are ghosts in my mind.
The Imperial Fist was experiencing an impossibility. Every known instant of his life was open to him, as if they were pages of a great book.
But not those moments.
'Something has been done to me.' The beginnings of a new fury built in his chest, boiling at the realisation of such an affront. 'You are behind this!' Dorn whirled, drawing his chainblade in a glittering arc of lethal metal, bringing it to aim at Malcador's wizened, cloak-wreathed form. 'You shrouded my memories! You invaded my mind… For that I should cut you down!'
The Sigillite showed no reaction to the threat. 'Not just yours. Guilliman's, and the others who met them.' He let his words bed in. 'It is extremely difficult to extract a reminiscence,' Malcador went on. 'Even in an ordinary human. In a brain as complex and perfectly engineered as that of a primarch, the task becomes herculean. Imagine a tree in the earth, rising from a web of roots. How would one remove that without disturbing a single atom of the soil? Memory cannot be cut and patched like a mnemonic spool. It exists as a holographic thing, in multiple dimensions. But it can be adjusted.'
'My father allowed that?' Dorn's sword did not waver.
'He did not stop you.'
'Stop me?' The primarch's eyes narrowed.
'Have you ever wondered why none speak of them?' the Sigillite replied. 'Of course, there is the censure over all who know of the lost never to talk openly of their existence. Still, in the absence of fact all men will speculate. But you do not. The primarchs never speak of their lost kinsmen in anything but the vaguest of terms. Have you ever wondered why that is?'
'As you said, we are forbidden to do so.'
'Even when you are beyond your father's sight? Even when no one would be aware of such a discussion? Ask yourself why your thoughts always slip over recall of the lost and pass by.' Malcador bowed his head. 'What were they called, Rogal?' The Sigillite seemed almost sorrowful as he asked him. 'Your vanished brethren. Tell me their names and their titles.'
Dorn tried to grasp that vague recollection, tried to frame the questions that gnawed at him, but once more his perfect eidetic recall failed him. He could only see the phantoms of those moments. Holding on to them was like trying to capture smoke between his fingers.
'Their names were…' his mighty voice faltered. His brow creased in frustration. 'They were…'
To his horror, Dorn realised that he did not know. The awareness was there; he could almost see the shape of the knowledge out on the far horizon of his thoughts. But it retreated from his every effort to see it clearly. Each time he attempted to frame a memory of the lost, it was like fighting a tidal wave. Everything else is clear, but they are ghosts in my mind.
The Imperial Fist was experiencing an impossibility. Every known instant of his life was open to him, as if they were pages of a great book.
But not those moments.
'Something has been done to me.' The beginnings of a new fury built in his chest, boiling at the realisation of such an affront. 'You are behind this!' Dorn whirled, drawing his chainblade in a glittering arc of lethal metal, bringing it to aim at Malcador's wizened, cloak-wreathed form. 'You shrouded my memories! You invaded my mind… For that I should cut you down!'
The Sigillite showed no reaction to the threat. 'Not just yours. Guilliman's, and the others who met them.' He let his words bed in. 'It is extremely difficult to extract a reminiscence,' Malcador went on. 'Even in an ordinary human. In a brain as complex and perfectly engineered as that of a primarch, the task becomes herculean. Imagine a tree in the earth, rising from a web of roots. How would one remove that without disturbing a single atom of the soil? Memory cannot be cut and patched like a mnemonic spool. It exists as a holographic thing, in multiple dimensions. But it can be adjusted.'
'My father allowed that?' Dorn's sword did not waver.
'He did not stop you.'
'Stop me?' The primarch's eyes narrowed.
- Location
- Africa
that is a misconception the chaos god have always been as active and organized as ever its just that the barrier between the warp and real space put some rather severe limits on what they can do , the thing about the barrier is the stronger it is the less power the chaos gods and there servants can translate into real space like demons can't enter real space at there full power with some demons straight up too powerful to set foot in reals space , rituals and sorcery cost more , warp rifts don't last as long or get as big so on so forth . but with every new chaos god born the barrier between real space and the warp becomes noticeably weaker letting the chaos god to have more of an effect on real space this is in fact the win condition for chaos make things in the galaxy sh*ty enough to bring forth more chaos god into existence wearing down the barrier allowing them to have more of an effect on reality until they snowball beyond any way to stop them short of killing all life in the galaxy. this also works both ways as a weaker separation between real space and the warp means that more power from worship translates in to the warp this also applies to the acts and emotions that empower the chaos gods
2.7
Drich
Von Neumann Writing Machine
2.7
+++
From anybody else, it might have been a dirty shot. Lucy, however, believed in that ideal just as much, perhaps even more so, than Singleton himself did.
"It would be a long and difficult task." Singleton stated.
"That doesn't make it any less worth doing." She replied, softly. "The galaxy being a cruel place doesn't mean we should just submit to it. Humanity fought its way to the top, once. We can do it again- and we owe it to every sane person still in the galaxy to try."
It was a sentiment that resonated with everybody present.
"It will take time." Mikah sighed. "It's... it's exactly the same as last time, really. The problem is still the storm. We can't get out of it through Empyrean Jumps because not only is that an awful idea, receiving Symbionts made us unable to stay there for more than ten seconds. Flinging ourselves into the storm itself it is just going to get us pushed back because there's no real difference between our reality and the Warp once we cross the barrier. The only way we can get through is to get the Shroud to deal with it."
True. I would have long since eaten the Warp Storm itself, but only two things had stopped me. The first was the potential consequences.
After all, the entire star system had been swallowed. The planet no longer orbited anything, just floated in the middle of the Warp Storm. The moon worked because of Warp shenanigans, but the rest of the planet?
If the Warp Storm went away, there was no telling what would happen. Life in Sanctuary was sustainable, yes, but there was no point in risking it needlessly. The people of Sanctuary knew it, too.
"But if the Storm dies down, there's no telling what will happen to the planet. We could be anywhere. Even in dark space. Our star has long since vanished into the Empyrean, and without it to provide light, this planet will die in fairly short order."
"We discussed this last time." Lucy noted. "MUM, bring up the plans for Project Moth."
"Confirmed."
The hologram shifted, diving into four parts. The first had a representation of the planet, while the second had a series of ship designs, the third a number of information points about the Warp Storm, and the fourth an image of several of my bodies.
"We chose a fleet, for mobility." Lucy noted, gesturing at the second part. MUM, reading the gesture, switched to it, expanding the information about that stage of the plan. "And also because it would let us get out quicker, since the Shroud would only need to create a tunnel that we can pass through instead of consuming the entire storm."
"And there's nothing wrong with that part." Mikah agreed. "There's no problem with any of the parts, really. It's just time-consuming. We need fleets in order to escape any problems with the planet, we need more resources for the fleets, we need resources to defend our resources or we need the Shroud to cover our resourcing efforts so they aren't disrupted by Empyrean incursions, we need more population to sustain more Shroud lifeforms, and then we need bigger fleets." He sighed. "And while the loop eventually hits the point where it becomes feasible for the 'make a tunnel' plan, that's at least two centuries away with a dedicated population growth program that will also consume part of the resources. Mathematically, it works. Theoretically, we'd need a population of at least fifty billion, with all the requirements to sustain that. Practically, we can do it, it'll just require us to build Nucleo-Synthesis Plants by the millions, or strip mine basically half the planet in order to get all the resources we need all the while maintaining a population growth rate of 3% for... two hundred and fifty-ish years."
"I guess that would solve the Cultist problem, too." Leo noted. "Can't hide on a planet if there's no planet left to hide on."
"That's awful." Vivian said, flatly, shooting him a look.
Also accurate.
"They're Cultists." Tori said, softly. "When you're affected by Warp Madness like that, there isn't anything that can be done. We've tried, Vivian. No amount of therapy can fix them, and their souls are so corrupt that cutting the corruption out wouldn't leave anything left. Putting them out of their misery is... the best we can do."
Well, that subject turned dark quickly.
"There is also the matter of what should be revealed about tonight." Singleton stated.
Lucy's expression took a note of distaste. "The truth." She said, flatly. "All of it. There's no need to hide anything. This knowledge isn't dangerous."
"If you wish." He agrees.
She breathes in, then out. "What about the baby, Vivian? Any volunteers for his care?"
"I haven't begun searching, yet." She shakes her head. "I should be able to find one-"
"I'll do it." Singleton interrupted.
Hmm?
The room went quiet. Everybody turned to him, surprised.
"You?" Lucy asked, confusion blatantly obvious. "I mean- I'm sure you can do it, but I've never heard you volunteer to raise a child."
This... seems unlike you, Singleton.
Although, now that I think about it...
"I expect a Valiant will be necessary." Singleton stated. "A baby as heavily augmented as he is will require full attention."
Your hand had lingered on that symbol, Singleton.
"There are other Valiants." Vivian said. "Howard's children are adults, now. He wouldn't mind if I asked."
Do you know something that they don't?
"It is fine." Singleton shook his head. "I believe I am the best choice, in this scenario."
Yeah, you definitely do. There's a history there, one that I'd be interested in hearing. You're old enough to have met the guy, I suppose.
"It still seems... out of character, for you." Lucy leaned back. "Well, it doesn't matter too much, I suppose. Better if it's you, really. You've seen a lot in your life. You should be able to handle whatever the baby throws at you."
How exciting. And terrifying.
"I'll make sure everything is ready for you, then." Vivian shook her head. "Is that all, Lucy?"
"For the most part." Lucy nodded. "I need to prepare an announcement. Mikah, I need you study that pod. Anything you can glean from it is only going to help us, in the end."
"I'll see what we can do." He agreed.
"Thank you. The meeting is dismissed. Singleton, a few words."
The room emptied fairly quickly. I stayed. Lucy didn't even glance my way before looking at Singleton. "You know something about this baby."
He nodded, not denying it. He waved a hand, and I could taste a brief burst of electromagnetic radiation.
The hologram changed, back to a representation of his pod. Singleton turned his finger, and the pod rotated with it, the symbol on it facing towards them.
"I am familiar with that symbol." He explained. "It belonged to a friend."
Oh my~ You call him a friend, huh?
She blinked. "Not a coincidence?"
"It is exactly the same." Singleton pointed. "Exactly the same angles, exactly the same ratios. He was... precise enough that make sure of that. It is either an exceedingly accurate recreation, or it is his work."
"What's the chance of the former?" She asked.
"Effectively zero." Singleton stated. "Alone, I might not be able to be sure. With the rest of the pod, the technology within, and the genetic code of the baby? I can't imagine that it's anything other than him."
"So, this is because of him, then?" She sighed. "Fine. It's up to you. I trust you."
"Thank you, Lucy."
Let's just hope that trust pans out.
+++
From anybody else, it might have been a dirty shot. Lucy, however, believed in that ideal just as much, perhaps even more so, than Singleton himself did.
"It would be a long and difficult task." Singleton stated.
"That doesn't make it any less worth doing." She replied, softly. "The galaxy being a cruel place doesn't mean we should just submit to it. Humanity fought its way to the top, once. We can do it again- and we owe it to every sane person still in the galaxy to try."
It was a sentiment that resonated with everybody present.
"It will take time." Mikah sighed. "It's... it's exactly the same as last time, really. The problem is still the storm. We can't get out of it through Empyrean Jumps because not only is that an awful idea, receiving Symbionts made us unable to stay there for more than ten seconds. Flinging ourselves into the storm itself it is just going to get us pushed back because there's no real difference between our reality and the Warp once we cross the barrier. The only way we can get through is to get the Shroud to deal with it."
True. I would have long since eaten the Warp Storm itself, but only two things had stopped me. The first was the potential consequences.
After all, the entire star system had been swallowed. The planet no longer orbited anything, just floated in the middle of the Warp Storm. The moon worked because of Warp shenanigans, but the rest of the planet?
If the Warp Storm went away, there was no telling what would happen. Life in Sanctuary was sustainable, yes, but there was no point in risking it needlessly. The people of Sanctuary knew it, too.
"But if the Storm dies down, there's no telling what will happen to the planet. We could be anywhere. Even in dark space. Our star has long since vanished into the Empyrean, and without it to provide light, this planet will die in fairly short order."
"We discussed this last time." Lucy noted. "MUM, bring up the plans for Project Moth."
"Confirmed."
The hologram shifted, diving into four parts. The first had a representation of the planet, while the second had a series of ship designs, the third a number of information points about the Warp Storm, and the fourth an image of several of my bodies.
"We chose a fleet, for mobility." Lucy noted, gesturing at the second part. MUM, reading the gesture, switched to it, expanding the information about that stage of the plan. "And also because it would let us get out quicker, since the Shroud would only need to create a tunnel that we can pass through instead of consuming the entire storm."
"And there's nothing wrong with that part." Mikah agreed. "There's no problem with any of the parts, really. It's just time-consuming. We need fleets in order to escape any problems with the planet, we need more resources for the fleets, we need resources to defend our resources or we need the Shroud to cover our resourcing efforts so they aren't disrupted by Empyrean incursions, we need more population to sustain more Shroud lifeforms, and then we need bigger fleets." He sighed. "And while the loop eventually hits the point where it becomes feasible for the 'make a tunnel' plan, that's at least two centuries away with a dedicated population growth program that will also consume part of the resources. Mathematically, it works. Theoretically, we'd need a population of at least fifty billion, with all the requirements to sustain that. Practically, we can do it, it'll just require us to build Nucleo-Synthesis Plants by the millions, or strip mine basically half the planet in order to get all the resources we need all the while maintaining a population growth rate of 3% for... two hundred and fifty-ish years."
"I guess that would solve the Cultist problem, too." Leo noted. "Can't hide on a planet if there's no planet left to hide on."
"That's awful." Vivian said, flatly, shooting him a look.
Also accurate.
"They're Cultists." Tori said, softly. "When you're affected by Warp Madness like that, there isn't anything that can be done. We've tried, Vivian. No amount of therapy can fix them, and their souls are so corrupt that cutting the corruption out wouldn't leave anything left. Putting them out of their misery is... the best we can do."
Well, that subject turned dark quickly.
"There is also the matter of what should be revealed about tonight." Singleton stated.
Lucy's expression took a note of distaste. "The truth." She said, flatly. "All of it. There's no need to hide anything. This knowledge isn't dangerous."
"If you wish." He agrees.
She breathes in, then out. "What about the baby, Vivian? Any volunteers for his care?"
"I haven't begun searching, yet." She shakes her head. "I should be able to find one-"
"I'll do it." Singleton interrupted.
Hmm?
The room went quiet. Everybody turned to him, surprised.
"You?" Lucy asked, confusion blatantly obvious. "I mean- I'm sure you can do it, but I've never heard you volunteer to raise a child."
This... seems unlike you, Singleton.
Although, now that I think about it...
"I expect a Valiant will be necessary." Singleton stated. "A baby as heavily augmented as he is will require full attention."
Your hand had lingered on that symbol, Singleton.
"There are other Valiants." Vivian said. "Howard's children are adults, now. He wouldn't mind if I asked."
Do you know something that they don't?
"It is fine." Singleton shook his head. "I believe I am the best choice, in this scenario."
Yeah, you definitely do. There's a history there, one that I'd be interested in hearing. You're old enough to have met the guy, I suppose.
"It still seems... out of character, for you." Lucy leaned back. "Well, it doesn't matter too much, I suppose. Better if it's you, really. You've seen a lot in your life. You should be able to handle whatever the baby throws at you."
How exciting. And terrifying.
"I'll make sure everything is ready for you, then." Vivian shook her head. "Is that all, Lucy?"
"For the most part." Lucy nodded. "I need to prepare an announcement. Mikah, I need you study that pod. Anything you can glean from it is only going to help us, in the end."
"I'll see what we can do." He agreed.
"Thank you. The meeting is dismissed. Singleton, a few words."
The room emptied fairly quickly. I stayed. Lucy didn't even glance my way before looking at Singleton. "You know something about this baby."
He nodded, not denying it. He waved a hand, and I could taste a brief burst of electromagnetic radiation.
The hologram changed, back to a representation of his pod. Singleton turned his finger, and the pod rotated with it, the symbol on it facing towards them.
"I am familiar with that symbol." He explained. "It belonged to a friend."
Oh my~ You call him a friend, huh?
She blinked. "Not a coincidence?"
"It is exactly the same." Singleton pointed. "Exactly the same angles, exactly the same ratios. He was... precise enough that make sure of that. It is either an exceedingly accurate recreation, or it is his work."
"What's the chance of the former?" She asked.
"Effectively zero." Singleton stated. "Alone, I might not be able to be sure. With the rest of the pod, the technology within, and the genetic code of the baby? I can't imagine that it's anything other than him."
"So, this is because of him, then?" She sighed. "Fine. It's up to you. I trust you."
"Thank you, Lucy."
Let's just hope that trust pans out.
That has some implications.
Chloe Sullivan
Subdefective
- Location
- 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale CA
So what i'm getting from this is that Singleton is a badass on par with Malcador at the least.
- Location
- Sol system, milky way galaxy
Huh, I thought emps hated AI.
jwolfe_beta
Semi Genre-Savvy Overlord
- Location
- Canada
Well he hates it now at the very least. The problem is that the man is rather tight-lipped about the pre-Imperium eras so just about anything goes.
Machine Spirits(shackled AI) are alright to use.
AzureShogun
Tanks are better than Mechs
- Location
- United Kingdom
Can the Shroud talk to people? Why isn't he taking a more active part in this I wonder?
Yeah, it's going to be a very tragic meeting.
The old Man Of Stone who still held to his values, meets Him who forsook most morality because of practicality and declared all Men of old destroyed, Iron, Stone and other all.
The old Man Of Stone who still held to his values, meets Him who forsook most morality because of practicality and declared all Men of old destroyed, Iron, Stone and other all.
Last edited:
- Location
- In a stand
The AI were banned after the Men-of-Iron fiasco. And the Imperium has a tendency to immensly exaggerate every opinion Big E had.
Self-evolving AI going rampant for whatever reason did its part to end the golden age of humanity.
Actually, Machine spirits are either superstition from the mechanicus (to explain all the quirks from individual pieces of tech they dont understand the causes of) or actual nascent warp entities centered on the belief that machines can have spirits, altough the last one hasn't shown much evidence.
- Location
- USA
I have to state again but I love how little we see into the shroud. We can see their actions but very little of their thoughts and that give this story a very unique trait. I mean the little we see into the shroud does not clarify anything about it other then give us (the readers) more questions. And when we do see its thoughts its less a though and more an observation. EX:
Please keep up the good work.
This is nothing but observations about its surroundings. Nothing about itself. And the rest of the chapter follows a similar thread.
Please keep up the good work.
Jordisk
<Unverified N00B>
- Location
- Blind Eternities
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
At least the Ships, those Battle Barges and the like, have either shackled AI, or a controlling spirit of some kind. Considering that they are vulnerable to Scrap Code, they are at least partially computer-based, but nothing says a Computer can't have a Soul.
- Location
- USA
There are reports of energy guns being much more efficient then others of the exact same make. There are even reports of guns, in perfect working condition, that are treated badly not working when fired even though there is no reason that they should not work.
There are also reports of tanks and vehicles still moving and fighting after their crew was killed.
Ex: Rynn's Might - Rynn's Might is a Land Raider Phobos of the Crimson Fists Space Marine Chapter, after surviving a rouge missile that destroyed the Chapter's Fortress-Monastery the Machine Spirit of this vehicle waged a solo war against the Orks that attacked the Crimson Fists' homeworld of Rynn's World, even though the tank did not survive the battle it managed to kill the Ork Warboss and many of his followers in a single night, this act remains a testament to the awesome power of the Land Raider and its Machine Spirit.
Last edited:
- Location
- Australia
That isn't a great example.
Both are theories are fanon. Machine Spirits are AI that serve a specific function, and they cannot deviate from it.
Deep in the heart of the star fort, infernally hot and lit by the winking green lights that studded the menhirs of black datamedium, Techmarine Korgon waited for the machine-spirit of the Bastion Inviolate to unfurl. The intelligence was encoded in the millions of sheets of datamedium, untold trillions of calculations in every fraction of a second weaving together to create a sentience as old as the Imperium. Forged in the age before the Emperor had united humanity, the Bastion Inviolate had accumulated more battle-wisdom than a whole Chapter of Space Marines could boast.
From a well lined with black crystal a swarm of flickering motes rose, glowing blue and green. They coalesced into a shape that could have represented something alive, perhaps a serpent squirming in knots or a colony of polyps. Or it could have been an expression of something mathematical, a fractal constantly splitting and turning in on itself.
'Bastion!' called out Techmarine Korgon. 'We are at war!'
'Who,' demanded the machine-spirit, 'is the enemy?' Its synthesised voice filled the datacore of the Bastion Inviolate. The spirit was known to be curt and crude, constantly angry about something.
'The Iron Warriors,' replied the Techmarine. The servo-arm on his armour's backpack inserted a dataprobe into a socket on the crystal wall behind Korgon, inputting the data the star fort's sensorium had collected on the enemy ship. 'The Ferrous Malice, known to be the flagship of Warsmith Shon'tu. Less than half an hour ago it emerged into real space within striking distance of us.'
'Filth-licking dogs!' spat the machine-spirit. 'Would that I had hands to wring their necks! Would that I had bowels that I might void them on their corpses!'
There was a reason Techmarine Korgon tended to converse with the machine-spirit alone. He was used to its temperament, but the same could not be said of the other Imperial Fists and Chapter crew who staffed the Bastion Inviolate. 'You echo our own sentiments,' he said. 'The Ferrous Malice is a Castigation-class grand cruiser and is a formidable foe. We ask that you lend your wisdom to the battle sure to come.'
'My wisdom?' snapped the machine-spirit. 'Wisdom counts for nothing against such a foe! No, it is hatred that will count! Rage! They stew in their filth and imagine our heads on spikes. But I'll split their hull open with my lance fire and turn them into frozen mist! My servitors will string their entrails on my battlements! Whatever foetid data festers in their systems, I'll delete it zero by one and scrape that ship bare! Long ago the Ferrous Malice opened its machine-spirit up to traitors and daemons! Whatever's left, I'll kill. You'll be lucky if there are any Iron Warriors left on whom to practise your aim.'
'Then I shall cede the primary weapons to you, machine-spirit,' continued Korgon. 'And retain the defensive systems under the command of my crew that you might focus on the enemy. I have ordered them to make ranging shots at–'
'Quiet!' bellowed the machine-spirit. The fractal of light flattened and spread out, the holo-image rippling over the Techmarine's armoured form and up the crystalline walls. 'I can hear them.'
'Hear them?' said Korgon. 'They are still beyond medium sensorium range. We can barely pick up any comms at all.'
'They are here,' said the spirit. 'I can taste them. I can smell their filth! Filling the radio spectrum with their ordure! Flooding the data network with seething rot! Techmarine, this is no physical assault! I am… I am besieged!'
The fractal darkened. Flecks of yellowish light flickered like fireworks in the datacore. A tendril of fractal spilled against the edge of the well, like a weary hand steadying a battered fighter.
'Bastion!' said Korgon in alarm. 'Speak! What ails you?'
'Witchcraft!' spat the machine-spirit. 'Daemon-magic! Flee this place, Techmarine! Flee! These rancid frag-holes, these rot-belching vermin, they have undone me! Ten thousand years, an entire age of Imperium, and now by these cowards I am undone!'
The whole datacore shook. Shards of black crystal fell as the stacks of datamedium fractured. The floor tilted and split, crevasses opening around Korgon's feet.
'What must I do?' shouted Korgon over the din of tearing metal.
'Go! Now! Run! Take my guns and blast them from the void!'
'I cannot leave you! I have my duty!'
'Your duty is the destruction of our foes!'
From a well lined with black crystal a swarm of flickering motes rose, glowing blue and green. They coalesced into a shape that could have represented something alive, perhaps a serpent squirming in knots or a colony of polyps. Or it could have been an expression of something mathematical, a fractal constantly splitting and turning in on itself.
'Bastion!' called out Techmarine Korgon. 'We are at war!'
'Who,' demanded the machine-spirit, 'is the enemy?' Its synthesised voice filled the datacore of the Bastion Inviolate. The spirit was known to be curt and crude, constantly angry about something.
'The Iron Warriors,' replied the Techmarine. The servo-arm on his armour's backpack inserted a dataprobe into a socket on the crystal wall behind Korgon, inputting the data the star fort's sensorium had collected on the enemy ship. 'The Ferrous Malice, known to be the flagship of Warsmith Shon'tu. Less than half an hour ago it emerged into real space within striking distance of us.'
'Filth-licking dogs!' spat the machine-spirit. 'Would that I had hands to wring their necks! Would that I had bowels that I might void them on their corpses!'
There was a reason Techmarine Korgon tended to converse with the machine-spirit alone. He was used to its temperament, but the same could not be said of the other Imperial Fists and Chapter crew who staffed the Bastion Inviolate. 'You echo our own sentiments,' he said. 'The Ferrous Malice is a Castigation-class grand cruiser and is a formidable foe. We ask that you lend your wisdom to the battle sure to come.'
'My wisdom?' snapped the machine-spirit. 'Wisdom counts for nothing against such a foe! No, it is hatred that will count! Rage! They stew in their filth and imagine our heads on spikes. But I'll split their hull open with my lance fire and turn them into frozen mist! My servitors will string their entrails on my battlements! Whatever foetid data festers in their systems, I'll delete it zero by one and scrape that ship bare! Long ago the Ferrous Malice opened its machine-spirit up to traitors and daemons! Whatever's left, I'll kill. You'll be lucky if there are any Iron Warriors left on whom to practise your aim.'
'Then I shall cede the primary weapons to you, machine-spirit,' continued Korgon. 'And retain the defensive systems under the command of my crew that you might focus on the enemy. I have ordered them to make ranging shots at–'
'Quiet!' bellowed the machine-spirit. The fractal of light flattened and spread out, the holo-image rippling over the Techmarine's armoured form and up the crystalline walls. 'I can hear them.'
'Hear them?' said Korgon. 'They are still beyond medium sensorium range. We can barely pick up any comms at all.'
'They are here,' said the spirit. 'I can taste them. I can smell their filth! Filling the radio spectrum with their ordure! Flooding the data network with seething rot! Techmarine, this is no physical assault! I am… I am besieged!'
The fractal darkened. Flecks of yellowish light flickered like fireworks in the datacore. A tendril of fractal spilled against the edge of the well, like a weary hand steadying a battered fighter.
'Bastion!' said Korgon in alarm. 'Speak! What ails you?'
'Witchcraft!' spat the machine-spirit. 'Daemon-magic! Flee this place, Techmarine! Flee! These rancid frag-holes, these rot-belching vermin, they have undone me! Ten thousand years, an entire age of Imperium, and now by these cowards I am undone!'
The whole datacore shook. Shards of black crystal fell as the stacks of datamedium fractured. The floor tilted and split, crevasses opening around Korgon's feet.
'What must I do?' shouted Korgon over the din of tearing metal.
'Go! Now! Run! Take my guns and blast them from the void!'
'I cannot leave you! I have my duty!'
'Your duty is the destruction of our foes!'
Last edited:
Chloe Sullivan
Subdefective
- Location
- 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale CA
I'd say that WH40k contradicts itself quite often, and you can set your own canon.
Your Machine Spirits can be machines, spirits, both, or none of the above.
I imagine the cast would be much bigger. I call Singleton and Malcador incredible badassess because they are still around after all that.
The emperor's track record for keeping his supposed friend or allies alive is not great, IIRC.
Your Machine Spirits can be machines, spirits, both, or none of the above.
I imagine the cast would be much bigger. I call Singleton and Malcador incredible badassess because they are still around after all that.
The emperor's track record for keeping his supposed friend or allies alive is not great, IIRC.
- Location
- Kansas
With Orks being involved, the Tank might have remained functioning and able to fight, because Orks think a tank should be able to fight. The collective belief of Orks don't always cause things to work in the Orks favor. Then again, Orks like to fight, so the tank still fighting them even after the crew is dead might be considered a good thing by the WHAAARG.
The whole Ork belief system only works on their own tech.
- Location
- In a stand
Isn't 'scrap code' just a mechanicus word for a virus or similar?
"Exact same make" is not really a good benchmark coming from the mechanicus. They dont really know how much of their remaining tech actually works and most of their blanks are filled by superstition, Machine spirits needing appeasing was an explanation to why somehing didnt work, and the rituals to appease are just mantenance and luck that the issue was solved. That said, it wouldnt be out of place for actual machine spirits to exist, just not for them to be common.
As for ships, well, the inards are mostly what was recovered from pre-strife humans but butchered when it came in contact with mechanicus dogma and upkeep. It was only because human ships were to robust that they still work despite being subsandard by original expectations. And sure, some machines like Titans do have an AI.
Also, it might have been the Ork WAAAAHG, powering it. Kinda like Yarrick being so tough as to use a powerklaw
The mechanicus sustains that every piece of tech has a MS, despite said piece not having a way to carry an AI, like say, a lasgun
Last edited: