Sterbelicht - One Sacrifice At A Time Against The Galaxy (40K)

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There are good news, and there are HOLY FUCK! news.

In order;
The first good news is that Scout-Monitor 001-A (a name chosen for its highly optimistic outlook on how many will be produced in the future and used at any one time) slipped its mooring without any more significant failures or mistakes by the crew; only a little bit of the exterior scraping against a gantry that hadn't been retracted due to mechanical failure. No non-cosmetic damage was done to the ship, and the gantry was repaired within a week, so it wasn't noteworthy for a first attempt at steering a voidship.

After a few months of flying around the station, SM-001-A took her crew out of the protective embrace of the three stars surrounding our station, eager to take passive scans of the system with its sophisticated sensor systems installed for that very purpose from mothballed stock, captain and bridge-crew eagerly staring at the large velum being written onto by scribe-servitors to display the technical data harvested by the venerable and consecrated sensor machines, alongside visual representations of the data.

That is where the good news end, and the HOLY FUCK! news begin.

There are 79 celestial bodies within the system in stable orbits (8 other celestial bodies were not included due to being too far out of the system for 98% of their cycle or due to other factors). Of them, 13 had been subjected to either an Exterminatus or heavy orbital bombardment.

There are also wreckages of unidentified Xeno-ships everywhere; most are clustered around four of the 13 destroyed planets, alongside Imperial ships of both High and Low Imperial Technology, the latter explained by two very interesting discoveries.

But back to the ships. As far as SM-001-A and her crew could determine, there are a total of 203 shipwrecks within the system (149 Xenos, 54 Imperial), and all can be salvaged for materials and components (such as naval weapons and Warp Drives and Gellar Fields) alongside serving as the skeletons of new ships to be built. The longest is around 3.2 kilometers long, with the smallest barely reaching 200 meters. As far as we can determine, the Xeno ships are technologically inferior to their Imperial counterparts, even compared to the Low Imperial ones. However, their overall larger sizes (the largest Imperial ship is at 2.3 kilometers about ~200 meters smaller than the smallest Xeno ship) and superior numbers explain the losses taken by each side.

A winner in the tactical battle within the system could not be determined, but the strategic one can due to the presence of three inhabited worlds within the system: a savannah and desert world where low amounts of minor high-energy systems are being used, a water-world brimming with Low Imperial Technology emitting a storm of signals without care, and a small moon on the outside of the habitable zone, tall forests reaching into the sky with the crashed remains of two ships, one Imperial and one Xeno emitting energy signals continuously.

The crew of SM-001-A has now returned and restocked its holds, awaiting further instructions on what to do. Though beginning with a scavenging action of the derelict ships is possible, the station does not have the industry to receive the materials, nor is SM-001-A equipped or built to do more than scouting and transporting small amounts of goods or passengers/troops. The matter of stealth is also to be taken into account and is why SM-001-A failed to uncover more details in the system after becoming aware of a possible chance of detection. The best use for the ship would be to poke at the Frozen Forest Moon, the High-Energy Desert, or the Inhabited Water World while Void Industry is prepared to spool up scavenging and salvaging efforts.

Beyond these efforts, the songs of the station have begun to change, minutely and almost imperceptibly so, but if one listens, they can hear that words and cadence within songs have been exchanged and shifted, emphasis and weight taken from one place and added to another, each minute adjustment seemingly nothing, but they each were given by a Choir of five resting within a new home created purely for them and those like them to come.

Though the Symphonium is not much to look at now, merely twenty-five barracks with five rooms for each choir to come, the facilities can be expanded quickly and without hassle as long as no sprawl begins to creep against the reinforced exteriors of the Symphonium. Nestled within the near center of the station, the (relatively) small set of rooms and halls has also been created with an eye toward defense against enemies from within and without, and security details equipped with both anti-swarm and anti-armor weaponry blessed by what priests were available when Teeln, Prophet of the Star Child, was busy or "busy" at the time.

So now granted a place to begin their long journey of discovery and tuning into the lullaby of the Star Child, the Celestial Choir will start to write and create harmonies that shall last until the end of man.

In contrast to a mission yielding much information and creating more questions and a bastion of song created, the efforts to bring forth four more Space Marines proceeded in equally successful and uncertain outcomes.

Four Neophytes have been sworn into the Lamenters Chapter, Brothers Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta now tasked with carrying the legacy of the Chapter beyond their lives as exemplars of the Chapter and its duties to Humanity, and each has been given missions and training to succeed in by Chapter Master Chyron. However, this came at the cost of him needing to enter the Long Sleep, his mind once more resting for possibly decades to come as the four Neophytes train and prove themselves worthy to enter the ranks as full Space Marines once he wakes again.

Though while he does so, the sixty Gene-Seeds harvested from loyal Chapter Serfs have been installed once again, a hundred-and-twenty to be taken in ten years again, where twenty shall be used to create new Neophytes should the Chapter Master awake then or go into making forty Gene-Seeds should he not.

For now, he sleeps, and the station prays for good dreams and soft slumbers with prayers in solitude and communal to the one that had helped their parents and the elders so long ago.

New System:
Red - Time Dependent Action.
Yellow - Text has changed.
Green - New Action.

You Have 3 [Three] Actions.
[] [General] Instruct SM-001-A To Investigate (Location)
Each has its ups and downs, and each is a challenge. The Frozen Forest Moon is the one with the least danger to ourselves and has the highest chance of yielding actionable intelligence about the state of the galaxy at large, but if we do not investigate now, any survivors will likely be dead. Which means no information. The High-Energy Desert is unlikely to offer more than a look into the system we now reside in, but it will open doors that will not allow others to peek back at us. In contrast to the two, the Inhabited Water World will likely be a danger of exposure and can easily be filled with those unlikely to keep shut about us, but it will have a wealth of information that the other two locations likely won't be able to offer us.
(Locations: Frozen Forest Moon, High-Energy Desert, Inhabited Water World.
Gain: Knowledge? Warning? Opportunity?)

[] [General] Construct Something
-[] Food Production
-[] Civilian Infrastructure
-[] Heavy Industry
-[] Void Industry
-[] Medical Services
With much of the station freed up, we can begin filling the empty parts again with industry and things we need, from clinics to starch vats feeding us in the void.
(Gain: A district focusing on the chosen option.)

[] [Military] Raise A Specialised Light Infantry Unit - [Choose: Sabotage/Assault/Engineering/Demolition/Ogryn]
With a chosen direction, your Military can now focus on giving the Units you will raise the proper training for the right job. Sabotage Units will focus on raiding and disrupting the enemy with lighting raids and plundering logistics; Assault Units will punch through the enemy in weak points and sow confusion with overwhelming firepower; Engineering Units will focus on creating fortifications and using turrets, mines, and barricades; Demolition Units will be comprised out of heavy weaponry squads with plenty of explosives, from mines to rockets; and Ogryn Units will be Ogryns armored in heavy metals and armed with shields and Beatin' Sticks led by men and women with spiffy hats that will not be disobeyed.
(Gain: A chosen Specialised Light Infantry Unit.)

[] [Psykana] Hunt down the remaining Psykana Experiments
The Dark Prieshad mainly used their non-production related time for psykana experiments, alongside a dash of biological and demon summoning experiments, the latter of which was sometimes aided by Chaos Space marines that demanded a heavy toll from the people aboard in flesh and souls. Some of the psykana experiments have escaped containment in the chaos of the Waking Rising, and they now hunt the dark and forgotten parts of the station, where they take the souls of the unlucky and those caught off-guard. They need to be hunted down and destroyed, ere they do something worse than merely killing randomly. The Military strongly opposes any attempt to dislodge or hunt the Psykana Experiments before at least two units or heavy support from the Lamenters or Celestial Choir can be brought to bear.
(Gain: Clear the station of Dark Mechanicu Psykana Experiments.)

[] [Psykana] Conduct a Melody (Choose one below.)
The Celestial Choir has been given the means, and now, with time, they shall conduct their songs. They will listen to the Warp and filter out the false whispers from the slumbering guidance of the Star Child. In halting prayer and stumbling humming, truth will be stripped until nothing but it remains in the hands of those who shall make it anew into power to be wielded by the Choirs to come.
(Available: Hope, Compassion, Humanity, Song, Mercy, Creativity, Health, Unity, Innovation, Machinery, Logic, Progress, Protection, Justice, Wisdom, The Sun, The Home, Death, Ruthlessness, Brutality, and Fire.
Gain: A Melody newly Conducted.)

[] [Faith] Motive Force And Cradle Slumbers
The nascent Cult of the Star Child has been established, yet it must answer a lot of questions for itself, chief among them the doctrine and truth they shall follow to unite the Omnissiah and the God-Emperor with the Motive Force, or if that will not be needed should Teeln, Prophet of the Star Child, be graced with another vision that would lay this debate to rest.
(Gain: Nail down the technical aspects of the Cult of the Star Child, improving your technological means by proxy.)

[] [Faith] Begin The Great Education
People cannot read, write, or do numbers beyond the bare minimum, and any hope of establishing a nation that will last beyond the next crisis must address this lack of education now that the unwashed masses have eliminated the educated class. As knowledge and technology are the purview of the faith, this shall be a burden and duty of the Cult to bear, gladly worn with the knowledge of the greater tomorrow their works will bring.
(Gain: Start educating your population in basic numbers and literacy.)

[] [Faith] Construct Cradle-Shrines
Five shrines will be built, one in the center, four on a cross centered on the first. There, our preachers will give sermons; there, our faithful will gather, and there, we will be united in faith and belief. From there, all of our works shall be elevated, and all our struggles made holy. We are but candles in the dark of the galaxy. Time to light five fires to gather around and provide guidance to all who are yet lost but wander still. With so much time having gone by since the initial zeal of conversion during the Rising, and no places to gather in truth, the people's fervor has begun to waver. As does the protection of Faith against Chaos.
(Gain: Five Cradle-Shrines, beginning the creation of something greater than yourself.)

[] [Chapter] Fail Not The Ancient That Sleeps
They have been given a task, and they were given missions. With trust extended from one end, they shall reach back with triumph and glory in turn. For those we cherish, we die in Glory!
(Gain: Aid the Four Neophytes in their trials.)

[] [Other] Take Care Of [Future Or Current Problems]
(Write-In the problem being addressed.)
(Gain: Turn to address the issue.)

 

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Twenty-one years.

Twenty. One. God-Emperor damned years.

All of them spent on that frozen hell with its too-large trees and too-weak gravity, trying to survive against the worst that the damned planet could throw at them, from the weather to the animals to even a carnivorous plant!

Had it been under any other circumstance he had been forced to live on that frozen rock, he would have gladly welcomed this test and duty to the God-Emperor. As a Commissar, he knew, above all else, that challenges were meant to be overcome and that He On Holy Terra did not give battles to his soldiers that could not be won in one way or another. Had it been under any other circumstance, he would have cherished living on that karking planet, claiming another world for Humanity in the name of the Hallowed Sun, pushing back its nature to make way for his regiment (or what had remained after crash-landing) and their descendants to bring forth more soldiers to fight and die in His Holy Name.

Were it not for the karking Xenos!

Had they just died before the crash, had they just succumbed to the temperatures like so many good men had in those first few years, had they been eaten and swallowed by the very stones they walked upon, had they, had they, had they...

He let out a breath, leaning back into the rumbling metal seat of the large shuttle as he let go of his anger from his incompetence in vanquishing the Xenos and failing to save more of his charges. But that was of no matter now. The Inquisitor had dispatched a force to grab his regiment after he somehow found out they were still alive and fighting that good fight (probably the karking nobles on Droma III had deigned to actually look at what was happening outside their world and found them). They would finish what he couldn't. Even if it meant he would likely end up in front of a firing squad for general incompetence. Yet most of his people would be let go with nothing more than a slap on the wrist...or a mandate to return and start an actual colony.

A giggle caught his attention; one of the younger children born on that moon had apparently discovered that, yes, Ogryns, even those serving the Inquisition, were very dumb. Still, it brought some semblance of a smile to his lips and soothed his mind. They had been a mixed regiment when they crashed, in a stressful situation, without the right medicine after a year, and lacked a lot of other entertainment options usually available, so the children and young teens now filling the shuttles flying from ground to orbit weren't a surprise to him, nor would they be to anyone who thought for a moment about it.

LANDING PROCEDURES WILL COMMENCE IN 60 SECONDS.

A loud blaring horn suddenly announced, a slight warble telling of the age of the system and that not even the Inquisition was save from the ponderous nature of Tech-Priests. He settled in to wait.

LANDING PROCEDURES WILL COMMENCE IN 20 SECONDS.

A shock ran through the shuttle, rattling everyone and everything within, though the Inquisitorial troops remained unfazed. Blessed routine would do that for everything, even latrine duty.

LANDING PROCEDURES WILL COMMENCE IN 01 SECOND.

And with a mighty "THUNK" heard, yet mostly felt in one's bones, the shuttle sat down. What tension had remained within his frame left him, and he felt like nothing more than a sack of meat on a scaffolding of bones. They were safe now. He had done his duty; now, it was only a trial and an execution, and he would leave to aid the God-Emperor as all loyal servants ought to do once they are dead.

He barely even noticed walking out of the shuttle and into the large shuttle bay, too occupied with his thoughts, until a small hand tugged at his heavy coat, followed by the reedy voice of a young pre-teen child asking him: "What's that under the eagle?" while pointing at what she meant.

Looking up, the Commissar did indeed find the Aquila adorning the wall, as was proper, but there was another symbol underneath. A star with five points resting in a half-circle of a gear beneath and a radiant halo above.

In any other time, any other place, he would have dismissed it as some local signifier, maybe a stamp or mark of a noble House that had lent this ship.

But when he looked at that symbol this time, he realized three things.

The calm and peace he felt emanating from it was not natural. Psyker!
The Ogryn at that wall did not have black skin; it was black scales! Mutant!
Not once had he asked if the troopers were from the Inquisition. He had assumed, and they had not spoken about it before disarming him and the others until they could be assured no Xeno-taint had been brought aboard. LIES!

Old instincts roused themselves; paranoid eyes that had once been under the spell of foul sorcery grabbed past memories and reviewed them, finding all utterly lacking in reason. He had been ensorcelled, he had told his people to disarm without a fight, and now they were aboard a ship filled with traitors at best and heretics at worst.

A hand had already half-drawn his (not present) pistol from muscle memory alone as he realized with a deep burning shame and rage what had been done and what he had allowed to happen, and he opened his mouth to scream a warning to the others. Maybe they would be able to kill at least some of these bastards!

"No, bad!" A rumbling voice mumbled, and an Ogryn stepped to him, raising his arm as the first words had left his mouth. Then...Fist. Darkness.

---

Aside from one incident, the evacuation and scouting mission to the Frozen Moon (identified as Lady Ghiselle's Heart) went nearly as perfectly as hoped! With information, people, some resources, and a situation in tow, SM-001-A, SM-001-B, and SM-001-C returned to the station, giving over the people to be inducted into the Cult of the Star Child, while the resources went to the forges and the information and situation went to the Council.

Starting at the start: the current year (or best estimate) in the galaxy is around ~040.M42, though that is of no greater interest to us. What is, is the state of the universe. Apparently, some back-alley third-grade planet decided to blow up near the Eye of Terror, and that allowed, for some reason, Chaos to split the galaxy in two. We are currently located in the North-East of the Milky Way, the Ultima Segmentum, and no longer the western-most part of the Segmentum Solar, above the warp storm splitting us from Holy Terra, within what is referred to as the Imperium Nihilus. Specifically somewhere "in a sector near Formund." What Formund is beyond a "holy bastion of the faithful" has yet to be determined.

Aside from that, the local history is of far more interest to us, particularly the reason for the multiple Exterminati' executed in the system, which is closely linked to the situation at hand.

Around ~40-50 years ago, a Xenos fleet arrived within the system and, promptly, began to settle down onto the 13 planets subjected to orbital bombardment, establishing mines, forges, industry, and harvesting chemicals and fuel from the local gas giants, while also not engaging the local population of humans in combat despite having more ships than them. That wasn't why these Xenos were here.

The Kil'drabi (also called "We who yet wander" once translated into Gothic) were here to build ships and continue onward. If we believe their speaker's words, they were even preparing 50.000.000 Standard Imperial Tons of various processed metals as payment for utilizing the local resources to be used by local rulers as they saw fit. (This was cross-checked thanks to the survivors, who told us that there were indeed large quantities of metal being mentioned as one reason for the attack.)

This peaceful trade, after long co-existence...did not come to pass.

Instead, a task force of an Inquisitor holding down the fort in the local sector arrived and began to fight and kill every Kil'drabi they could get their hands on, which meant the vast majority of them.

Organized in Grand Pathfinding Fleets after their home system was destroyed nine millennia ago (Not by humans. Their star just died naturally.), the Kil'drabi made a habit of settling down for some time to build ships and repair those they had before continuing onward in two fleets flying separate paths whenever their populations got too high and couldn't be reasonably sustained by one fleet alone anymore.

The Inquisitorial Task Force and the local SDF caught them with their metaphorical pants down, most of their civilians on planets, and ships tied up in various tasks. What followed was a slaughter only barely kept from being one-sided thanks to the utter ineptitude of the SDF and the Kil'drabi's larger ships scoring several lucky hits early on. The result was the massacre we had seen, with nearly 99% of the Kil'drabi in the system wiped out, except for a single ship. The ship that had crashed on the Frozen Moon with the Imperial ship. Both of the surviving crew and passengers had proceeded to fight a defensive war against each other, lasting long after the war in the heavens was over, terrified miners and technicians on one side and injured and furious soldiers on the other. However, the Kil'drabi had a few key advantages that helped them stay alive long enough to reconstruct some semblance of functional industry while the humans slowly turned into feral worldlers.

Looking like a ~2-3 meter long grey conduit tube, with three legs on each side of the "tube," and a ~40-60cm long, very dextrous, maw filled with sharp teeth at one end, the Kil'drabi do not look like adept tool users, but that only lasts until they unfold their four "arms" from the sides of their maw, each far weaker than a human arm but able to manipulate objects in far better detail than a human could. Added to that is a biology well-adapted to cold climates and an aversion to prolonged conflict due to their herbivorous-prey nature, with an education level far outstripping their human counterparts on the planet.

Meaning that you had technicians who knew how their machines worked and could replicate them and didn't mind the cold on one side, and humans greatly hindered by the cold and a lack of any industry at all on the other.

The fact that the soldiers lasted that long is a testament to their skills and determination.

But all of that brings us back to the situation at hand.

There are Xenos in the system.
The Xenos killed a great deal of humans.
The Humans fired first.
The last survivors of the Xenos are on a single planet that we can subject to ortillery.
They are not hostile.
They are Xenos.

What do?
[] Leave Them Be
They are no threat to us now, and they have openly stated their desire to leave after building a ship within the next three centuries. Let them be, and let them leave. Better not tie ourselves so blatantly to something that will make the Imperial forces here try to kill us at first sight.

[] Offer Protection And Aid For Loyalty And Tithes
Though these Xenos fought against and killed humans, they did not do so out of malice or aggression but in defense. If the local rulers had merely attempted to communicate with them, they would have been more prosperous than before, and the Kil'drabi would have gone away on their own. Forty years is a long time to spend without aggressive moves if you wish to conquer or despoil a system, long enough that not talking to them before attacking becomes a malicious act in itself. These survivors now hide underneath the Frozen Moon and try to rebuild their industry, hoping that a few centuries are enough to build a ship and peacefully leave. But we can offer them another choice. Stay, live under our protection, accept our machines as aid, and help us help everyone by supplying us with metals now and ships far later. The universe is a dark place; will you light another candle by the flame of ours?
(Gain: The Kil'drabi Protectorate, the effects of one Heavy Industry action.)

[] Commence Orbital Bombardment.
Wipe this filth from the face of the galaxy!
(Warning: x0.2 Voting Weight attached due to [Iconoclast] traits!)

 

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The Kil'drabi were...surprised to be offered aid and protection as a protectorate of the Star Child. Yet, after a few days of internal deliberation, they agreed to the terms stated and given. However, they wished to retain the right to reconsider once the first shipment of machinery had been delivered and once they managed to build a new ship for their people here. The first was to ensure that we meant to uphold our offer in good faith, while the latter would allow them to look back at our combined history and make a definite conclusion from there.

The Council agreed, with nobody having any objections, and soon metal began to flow in one direction while low-tech machines and rudimentary tools flowed in the other. However, a piece of information given to Herkata-55/C, captain of the SM-001-D, during the second exchange of goods garnered a large amount of sympathy for the Kil'drabi from our population while also giving us a lot of buy-in from them some months later and ever since. As a nomadic space-faring species, the Kil'drabi are well aware that genetic bottlenecks can occur if they are not careful in their population controls and reproduction, and have, therefore, an extensive reservoir of genetic materials and growth vats on their ships to decant new generations to correct their lineages once they inevitably slip from the desired health-levels.

Most of those have, naturally, been lost thanks to the battle, but they hope that enough could have survived to correct any mistakes made once they lift themselves to the stars once more and can salvage them. Herkata-55/C, herself one of the many decanted humans born themselves within growth vats, found the idea of leaving these machines and gene lineages to decay and die within the void more than unsettling and has since then spent what time could be spent between exploration of the system retrieving those systems before they are given over.

The Kil'drabi have given her the title of "Mak'hati" or "Saviour of Legacies" after she gave them the first batch of many. We estimate that most of the intact growth vats and gene lineages have been retrieved. Still, orders will be given once salvaging efforts commence to hand over the same systems, damaged, intact, or destroyed, after they are found at the earliest opportunity.

The given tribute from the Kil'drabi Protectorate has since grown by 7.439% thanks to the likely improvements in morale our acts have generated.

Though that improvement to morale is likely nothing compared to the general upswing in moods and fervor that gripped the people after the Cradle-Shrines were opened to the public, and sermons have begun to be held within them nearly every day and shift for the millions seeking the words and guidance of the Star Child as given unto us by Teeln, Prophet of the Star Child. Acting not merely as straightforward gathering places for worship, the Cradle-Shrines also allow newly decanted and born children to be inducted into the faith by drawing the symbol of the Star Child onto their forehead with cleaned and purified water before their names are spoken aloud and a prayer of protection for them is spoken by the congregation. Alongside that, community events such as laying the dead to rest begin here, where processions have started to march from their doors to the corpse-starch and Soylens Viridian-producing vats and processing chambers, a final farewell to the deceased spirits and a final duty to the community by the departed. Celebrations of important events, like a promotion for Work-Units or the annual celebration of the Waking Rising, happen within side chambers or the main chambers too, and any sermon held by Teeln, Prophet of the Star Child, is basically a festival of its own by now. Counseling by priests to those who struggle with faith, body, or mind is also held and often used; nightmares and sudden unnatural urges (such as the desire to skin one's own lineage-units on the more extreme end) are among the most common Chaos-related ones. However, they are either swiftly resolved by prayer and purification by the Celestial Choir if minor enough or a Free Death if too advanced. Their bodies usually become the center of a sermon, tens of thousands praying for their soul while their bones are laid to rest in sanctified resting places dedicated to the embrace of the Star Child to deny Chaos even one speck of their being.

In other news, the Neophytes have managed to hunt down and kill three Psykana Experiments, allowing some more space on the station to be reclaimed, repaired, purged, cleaned, and readied for future expansion.


You Have 3 [Three] Actions.
[] [General] Instruct SM-001-A To Investigate (Location)
Each has its ups and downs, and each is a challenge. The High-Energy Desert is unlikely to offer more than a look into the system we now reside in, but it will open doors that will not allow others to peek back at us. In contrast to the two, the Inhabited Water World will likely be a danger of exposure and can easily be filled with those unlikely to keep shut about us, but it will have a wealth of information that the other two locations likely won't be able to offer us.
(Locations: High-Energy Desert, Inhabited Water World.
Gain: Knowledge? Warning? Opportunity?)

[] [General] Construct Something
-[] Food Production
-[] Civilian Infrastructure
-[] Heavy Industry II
-[] Void Industry
-[] Medical Services
With much of the station freed up, we can begin filling the empty parts again with industry and things we need, from clinics to starch vats feeding us in the void.
(Gain: A district focusing on the chosen option.)

[] [Military] Raise A Specialised [Light/Medium] Infantry Unit - [Choose: Sabotage/Assault/Engineering/Demolition/Ogryn]
With a chosen direction, your Military can now focus on giving the Units you will raise the proper training for the right job. Sabotage Units will focus on raiding and disrupting the enemy with lighting raids and plundering logistics; Assault Units will punch through the enemy in weak points and sow confusion with overwhelming firepower; Engineering Units will focus on creating fortifications and using turrets, mines, and barricades; Demolition Units will be comprised out of heavy weaponry squads with plenty of explosives, from mines to rockets; and Ogryn Units will be Ogryns armored in heavy metals and armed with shields and Beatin' Sticks led by men and women with spiffy hats that will not be disobeyed. Light Units are better for Low-Logistic scenarios, while Medium Units rely more on regular shipments yet strike a good balance between supply consumption and effectiveness.
(Gain: A chosen Specialised Light/Medium Infantry Unit.)

[] [Psykana] Hunt down the remaining Psykana Experiments
The Dark Prieshad mainly used their non-production related time for psykana experiments, alongside a dash of biological and demon summoning experiments, the latter of which was sometimes aided by Chaos Space marines that demanded a heavy toll from the people aboard in flesh and souls. Some of the psykana experiments have escaped containment in the chaos of the Waking Rising, and they now hunt the dark and forgotten parts of the station, where they take the souls of the unlucky and those caught off-guard. They need to be hunted down and destroyed, ere they do something worse than merely killing randomly. The Military strongly opposes any attempt to dislodge or hunt the Psykana Experiments before at least two units or heavy support from the Lamenters or Celestial Choir can be brought to bear.
(Gain: Clear the station of Dark Mechanicu Psykana Experiments.)

[] [Psykana] Conduct a Melody (Choose one below.)
The Celestial Choir has been given the means, and now, with time, they shall conduct their songs. They will listen to the Warp and filter out the false whispers from the slumbering guidance of the Star Child. In halting prayer and stumbling humming, truth will be stripped until nothing but it remains in the hands of those who shall make it anew into power to be wielded by the Choirs to come.
(Available: Hope, Compassion, Humanity, Song, Mercy, Creativity, Health, Unity, Innovation, Machinery, Logic, Progress, Protection, Justice, Wisdom, The Sun, The Home, Death, Ruthlessness, Brutality, and Fire.
Gain: A Melody newly Conducted.)

[] [Faith] Motive Force And Cradle Slumbers
The nascent Cult of the Star Child has been established, yet it must answer a lot of questions for itself, chief among them the doctrine and truth they shall follow to unite the Omnissiah and the God-Emperor with the Motive Force, or if that will not be needed should Teeln, Prophet of the Star Child, be graced with another vision that would lay this debate to rest.
(Gain: Nail down the technical aspects of the Cult of the Star Child, improving your technological means by proxy.)

[] [Faith] Preach To We Who Yet Wander
Having been brought under the gentle embrace of the Star Child and giving tribute to those who fight in its name for a better galaxy, the Kil'drabi represent the first among many Xeno species we shall show an existence beyond fighting for only themselves. Already culturally compatible with the ideals and tenets of the Star Child, focusing on community and cohesion against the dangers of the void and long travels, bringing them fully into the fold would be a boon for all. Though that will most likely happen naturally over a century or two, just not as thorough as some may like, thanks to their small numbers and frequent contact with us.
(Gain: The Kil'drabi are slowly converted to the Cult of the Star Child and given more resistance to the predations of Chaos.)

[] [Faith] Begin The Great Education
People cannot read, write, or do numbers beyond the bare minimum, and any hope of establishing a nation that will last beyond the next crisis must address this lack of education now that the unwashed masses have eliminated the educated class. As knowledge and technology are the purview of the faith, this shall be a burden and duty of the Cult to bear, gladly worn with the knowledge of the greater tomorrow their works will bring.
(Gain: Start educating your population in basic numbers and literacy.)

[] [Chapter] Fail Not The Ancient That Sleeps
They have been given a task, and they were given missions. With trust extended from one end, they shall return with triumph and Glory. For those we Cherish, we Die in Glory! Thanks to your aid and the refined materials shipped from the Kil'drabi, the Neophytes have been equipped with rudimentary power armor and suitable weapons like bolters and power swords.
(Gain: Aid the Four Neophytes in their trials.)

[] [Other] Take Care Of [Future Or Current Problems]
(Write-In the problem being addressed.)
(Gain: Turn to address the issue.)

 

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Shouting can be heard all day long whenever a Mining Monitor, like MM-0001-01-T here, arrives back in an anchorage to trade materials, metal, machinery, and things of interest for food, air, medicine, crew, tools, and orders to sail to a new section of the battlefields to salvage in the void. Here, Work Captains organize their Work Units to plug in the great hoses pumping tons of promethium every second from tanks deep within the station, or coolant into engines and other sections are exchanged and topped off, providing significant relief to overheating machinery. In contrast to the smooth exchange of fluids above, great heaps of processed and unprocessed metals spew forth from holds and bays, thousands clambering across titanic machines and lorries to ensure not more than these behemoths of machinery could carry before rumbling onwards to smelters or industries eagerly awaiting the bounty from the stars. Down below, on the bottom, throngs of people move here and there; children eagerly run between the tracks and underneath the dumping chutes once clear of lorries to snatch missed pieces of metal from the ground for an extra token at the end of the day. At the same time, adults organize the movement of goods and people, crews seeking relief from challenging voyages and harsh shifts in liquor, prayer, and flesh of all kinds.

Officials shout and count, numbers slowly brought down to those in the greatest need of learning them first, having had them taught to them within the Cradle-Shrines to allow the economy and industry to function better with every day. Each successful voyage brings more than "mere" metals and machinery, as each ship contains hidden and found stashes from now long-dead crew and the secrets of vessels ripped from their bellies. Those ships that salvaged the Kil'drabi craft offer the machinery and genetic history of now-dead lineages to a representative of the Protectorate, solemn lines of crew offering the chance for a last farewell or glorious return to a stoic male, each a testament of the grim nature of warfare in the void.

But those who salvage Imperial ships sometimes return with more than mere prices, technology foreign or superior to some things able to be produced on the station entering its repertoire, with the fragments of various STCs improving crucial industrial processes with refined methods or better tools. And then there was MM-0001-01-T, which had found something beyond a mere price or treasure. Something that could alter how the station would sail into the future altogether.

What was found?
[] A Rho-Tau 17 Surveillance Robot STC Fragment
Basically nothing more than a pict-recorder, two legs, and a bolter stapled together with an utterly rudimentary if-then cogitator decision-making program, the Rho-Tau 17 automata would be a tremendous boon for our troops in scouting out hostile terrain, enhancing their combat capabilties, and provides extra firepower for acceptable comparative costs.
(Gain: Infantry Units are augmented with Scout Automata.)

[] A Damaged Void Abacus
Ships that brave the Warp without a Navigator are not comparable to the titanic lengths those ships can traverse. They are reduced to hopping between two systems for weeks if they wish to ensure their arrival or a singular week if their captain feels brave or foolish. But ships equipped with a Void Acabus can drastically increase the speed of their journey by four to five times as much. However, each Abacus will require a great effort by the station, as they are not cheap or easy to produce.
(Gain: The ability to produce a Void Abacus for one Action, drastically improving non-navigator Warp travel.)

[] Spiced Chocolate
"Okchinta Simga has fallen?! Quick, dispatch a Crusade to retake the world; our chocolate is grown there! We cannot lose access to that critical resource!"
-High Administrator Olaistus van Van Van.
(Gain: Genetically engineered chocolate beans that produce spiced chocolate significantly improve morale and caloric availability for your people once grown industrially while massively boosting diplomatic or subversive actions against fellow human planets and organizations.)

 

[HeroCooky]

Smoldering with the desire to fully push out the last vestiges of the Dark Priests upon the station, the Council ordered for the gathering of volunteers to create the first military unit of their people, one tasked with creating and maintaining fortifications and defensive perimeters with the aid of turrets, mines, barricades, and all manner of things created by hands and tools versed and trained in technical skills and knowledge.

The training commenced at once, and due to the lack of experience in military matters, the Neophytes of the Lamenters spent some time aiding us. At the same time, they hunted four more Psykana Experiments with the first batches of soldiers, greatly assisting and helping us avoid a few mistakes that could have been fatal for far too many in actual unassisted mas or long-term combat. The rest of the errors and organizational failures are being smoothed out with every year and constant training, the idea being to create the muscle memory and institutional experience that shall keep further generations of soldiers alive and well even once away from the station.

Aside from that, the batches of learned workers able to read and write at an acceptable level have begun in a great deluge and are expected to continue for at least another few decades, with tens of thousands educated by hundreds before the cycle repeats. The workers themselves educated those within their Work Units who could not attend for one reason or another or were split up, or neighboring Work Units too low on the list to receive their teachings for a few more years yet.

Alongside them, many who were more spiritually inclined have been inducted into the faith as new members of the clergy en-mass, sermons held and aided by fresh faces and scores of priests and priestesses that have been beckoned to one of the emerging branches of the Cult of the Star Child. Focusing on areas like welcoming new members and giving them a farewell, counseling the spirits of the flocks, overseeing the proper veneration of the Machine Spirits, the consecration of the Star Child's holy symbols and icons, and some others besides.

In celestial news, the Celestial Choir has welcomed two new members, a male child of seven to be made a full member thanks to his available powers and a girl of nineteen that will become an auxiliary supporter of the Celestial Choir as her powers are too diminutive to be developed meaningfully but still considerable enough to let her roam the station freely.

Alongside that, we have come to a slightly baffling realization: there is no copper within the system's celestial bodies. None. No place we have yet poked at has had any indication of having any deposits, not even a few kilos. Though we are not in critical need of copper right now, the Council should consider searching for a source of that material and how it should be obtained, as the only other places we have yet to examine are the High-Energy Desert and Inhabited Water World, and what information we have available point us to look at the High-Energy Desert first.

You Have 3 [Three] Actions.
[] [General] Instruct SM-001-A To Investigate (Location)
Each has its ups and downs, and each is a challenge. The High-Energy Desert is unlikely to offer more than a look into the system we now reside in, but it will open doors that will not allow others to peek back at us. In contrast to the two, the Inhabited Water World will likely be a danger of exposure and can easily be filled with those unlikely to keep shut about us, but it will have a wealth of information that the other two locations likely won't be able to offer us.
(Locations: High-Energy Desert, Inhabited Water World.
Gain: Knowledge? Warning? Opportunity?)

[] [General] Construct Something
-[] Food Production
-[] Civilian Infrastructure
-[] Heavy Industry II
-[] Void Industry II
-[] Medical Services
With much of the station freed up, we can begin filling the empty parts again with industry and things we need, from clinics to starch vats feeding us in the void.
(Gain: A district focusing on the chosen option.)

[] [General] Plant The Bean
Having recovered a few hundred crates of some unknown granulate from the bowels of a ship within one of the battlefields, it was first assumed to be an unknown industrial product or material that had been discovered, but that quickly proved itself wrong thanks to a discovered manual within a cogitator of the ship from where the crates originated from. After discovering that these plants were used to grow a morale-enhancing foodstuff that required little preparation, the Council ordered a test batch to be grown for investigation. The result was several tons of "Spiced Chocolate," which quickly proved to be a fantastic additive to a meal to raise morale and act as an adequate reward for exceeding quotas or outstanding labor.
(Gain: Improved Morale, more Food, better Diplomacy with Human Factions.)

[] [Military] Raise A Specialised [Light/Medium] Infantry Unit - [Choose: Sabotage/Assault/Engineering/Demolition/Ogryn]
With a chosen direction, your Military can now focus on giving the Units you will raise the proper training for the right job. Sabotage Units will focus on raiding and disrupting the enemy with lighting raids and plundering logistics; Assault Units will punch through the enemy in weak points and sow confusion with overwhelming firepower; Engineering Units will focus on creating fortifications and using turrets, mines, and barricades; Demolition Units will be comprised out of heavy weaponry squads with plenty of explosives, from mines to rockets; and Ogryn Units will be Ogryns armored in heavy metals and armed with shields and Beatin' Sticks led by men and women with spiffy hats that will not be disobeyed. Light Units are better for Low-Logistic scenarios, while Medium Units rely more on regular shipments yet strike a good balance between supply consumption and effectiveness.
(Gain: A chosen Specialised Light/Medium Infantry Unit.)

[] [Military] A Task For Specialists (Assign Unit/s)
-[] Medium Engineering Unit
There is war to be had and battle to be made. Send troops to resolve issues and squash opposition to the Star Child and Humanity and all His Protectorates.
(Gain: Military dispatched to violently put down opposition.)

[] [Psykana] Hunt down the remaining Psykana Experiments
The Dark Prieshad mainly used their non-production related time for psykana experiments, alongside a dash of biological and demon summoning experiments, the latter of which was sometimes aided by Chaos Space marines that demanded a heavy toll from the people aboard in flesh and souls. Some of the psykana experiments have escaped containment in the chaos of the Waking Rising, and they now hunt the dark and forgotten parts of the station, where they take the souls of the unlucky and those caught off-guard. They need to be hunted down and destroyed, ere they do something worse than merely killing randomly. The Military strongly opposes any attempt to dislodge or hunt the Psykana Experiments before at least one more unit or heavy support from the Lamenters or Celestial Choir can be brought to bear.
(Gain: Clear the station of Dark Mechanicu Psykana Experiments.)

[] [Psykana] Conduct a Melody (Choose one below.)
The Celestial Choir has been given the means, and now, with time, they shall conduct their songs. They will listen to the Warp and filter out the false whispers from the slumbering guidance of the Star Child. In halting prayer and stumbling humming, truth will be stripped until nothing but it remains in the hands of those who shall make it anew into power to be wielded by the Choirs to come.
(Available: Hope, Compassion, Humanity, Song, Mercy, Creativity, Health, Unity, Innovation, Machinery, Logic, Progress, Protection, Justice, Wisdom, The Sun, The Home, Death, Ruthlessness, Brutality, and Fire.
Gain: A Melody newly Conducted.)

[] [Faith] Motive Force And Cradle Slumbers
The nascent Cult of the Star Child has been established, yet it must answer a lot of questions for itself, chief among them the doctrine and truth they shall follow to unite the Omnissiah and the God-Emperor with the Motive Force, or if that will not be needed should Teeln, Prophet of the Star Child, be graced with another vision that would lay this debate to rest.
(Gain: Nail down the technical aspects of the Cult of the Star Child, improving your technological means by proxy.)

[] [Faith] Preach To We Who Yet Wander
Having been brought under the gentle embrace of the Star Child and giving tribute to those who fight in its name for a better galaxy, the Kil'drabi represent the first among many Xeno species we shall show an existence beyond fighting for only themselves. Already culturally compatible with the ideals and tenets of the Star Child, focusing on community and cohesion against the dangers of the void and long travels, bringing them fully into the fold would be a boon for all. Though that will most likely happen naturally over a century or two, just not as thorough as some may like, thanks to their small numbers and frequent contact with us.
(Gain: The Kil'drabi are slowly converted to the Cult of the Star Child and given more resistance to the predations of Chaos.)

[] [Chapter] Fail Not The Ancient That Sleeps
They have been given a task, and they were given missions. With trust extended from one end, they shall return with triumph and Glory. For those we Cherish, we Die in Glory! Thanks to your aid and the refined materials shipped from the Kil'drabi, the Neophytes have been equipped with rudimentary power armor and suitable weapons like bolters and power swords.
(Gain: Aid the Four Neophytes in their trials.)

[] [Other] Take Care Of [Future Or Current Problems]
(Write-In the problem being addressed.)
(Gain: Turn to address the issue.)

 

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The last five decades for the Kil'drabi had been a journey of routine turned horrific struggle for survival, struggle turned to surprising encounters, and encounters that turned to humbling reminders of the paths they yet needed to travel within the endless voids.

When their fleet had taken anchorage within this system and had initiated communications with the local population of Those Who War Eternal, their Elders had been ignored, and their hails left unanswered, slotting the local Those Who War Eternal splinters here into the second category the Kil'drabi had encountered within their travels. The first were those who hunted and killed them, either hurt in the past too much by other alien peoples, or able to kill them thanks to superior technology and numbers or skill of voidcraft, urged onward with hatred's flames fanned by word and religion. The second were those who could not or would not, talk and converse with We Who Yet Wander but refrain from attacking them even if they held superiority in any or all matters of the void.

The path for those in the second category was clear, with ancient examples and old encounters recorded within history and stories guiding their steps and actions. A message was sent to explain their reason for staying within their home. Assurances were made to not leave the assigned places where the ships and the resources direly needed would be created and mined, alongside the oath to repay the locals with the refined bounty of their home at the end of a pre-determined period of time as payment for letting them stay there.

It had been assumed that Those Who War Eternal accepted their words, or at the very least had not chosen to refute them, as their fleet had stayed its hand while protecting their homes and watched closely for any trickery by We Who Yet Wander.

Only too late did they realize that they had been the subject of great deception years in the making, a fleet coming to aid the locals with fire and hatred. Yet, the Kil'drabi had given as hard as they had gotten, wrecks burning within the void as the greed of the local rulers had caused them to send a message in arrogance, claiming all the materials and all the ships of the fleet for "breaching the sanctity of a system owing fealty to the Lord Of Eternal Tides who resides on Holy Terra."

Though the only survivors were not those who would ever know of the message, their ship was too busy crashing onto an alien moon frozen over and sparse in a reprieve for the few that dragged corpse after corpse from the wreckage and ruin when the ship had given its last. What followed was death and murder, for the survivors of Those Who War Eternal that had crashed in their own vessel not far from them were intent on bringing no shame to their name, choosing fire and death for each.

And yet, the winds of war were not in their favor; the Kil'drabi could manufacture quicker and better weapons, tools, and equipment than Those Who War Eternal could, pushing back with overwhelming firepower what grit and skill could not hold back forever. The last months of the conflict had been rough on We Who Yet Wander, as it was known that Those Who War Eternal had given birth to children, and their kind was not known to leave children alive if it meant suffering in their future, but war did not leave choices when it was fought to the last.

And then craft descended from the sky and the war was over, leaving naught but a people now alone and thinking the last two decades of fighting would end with quick obliteration from ortillery or swift and brutal massacres by hordes of soldiers descending upon their new-found homes.

But struggle turned to encounter, and another category of Those Who War Eternal was found to reside within the system, one who talked and was willing to listen, to learn from those all others of their kind despised and feared. Much was shared on that fateful day, yet little was demanded from those high in the void and mighty in their armaments until an offer was made, given from the Elders of one station that had ripped itself free of the shackles crafted by Those Who Create Eternal In The Name Of Ruin Incarnate. Aid would be given, and protection from all others promised, in return for metals and loyalty that cost them little to swear and less to create.

Though it angered many that the aid would be in tools and machines of "technology low enough for you to use," it shamed far more when those were still almost too advanced to be of use to We Who Yet Wander.

And it shamed all when an idle discussion and hopeful request to recover some of those lineages lost in the battle returned with compassion and fervor beyond what could have ever been demanded. A captain, one Herkata-55/C, was named Mak'hati when she returned, again and again, with lost lineages and gene-stores thought to be forever out of their reach until the trickle turned flood. Each ship of their fleet was searched and had its most vital memories returned to them, alongside the names of all 197 Humans that had lost their lives retrieving them.

After their death, all those lost, the gene-lines of the Kil'drabi and those Humans now called Mak'hati, were carved into a monument within their settlement underneath the soil and flesh of stone of the Frozen Moon. A reminder of what had been taken and a reminder of what had been given. A call from this generation to those who would come to never let grief and anger delude them into thinking that one group spoke for all of their people, and that aid deserved aid.

So when Those Who War Eternal asked to be given the fruits and seeds of the Frozen moon, to have their holds filled with plants and animals they could eat, the Elders decreed that they would do so, but they would not lower their tribute in metals in return. Good deserved Good, and those who had given unto them hope beyond hope deserved to eat more than the corpses of their fallen and a singular plant that brought no joy to taste.

But in those days before the ships destined to carry this bounty of seeds and animals would arrive, something else happened, something that would have, once, given no pause to the families beyond mourning for an unborn soul taken by Ruin Incarnate.

We Who Yet Wander had no psykers, for all their kin that could harness the powers within that otherworldy and hostile realm hatched with skin tinged red, blue, green, and purple, and all would spell doom and fates beyond death if left alive. So they all were killed, none spared for the safety of all, yet their names recorded as if they had died newly hatched, for it was the least that could be given unto those who had everything taken before they had anything.

But the parents of the hatchling were those who had turned to pray to the Star Child of the humans alongside the 14 Trodden Ways, old talks having turned to conversion in half as they had taken a liking to the aspects preached by the book given to them.

And now it seemed that Faith answered Faith, as the hatchling wore a skin not of gun-metal grey or dusted black but of silver-gold.

This...had never happened.
[] No matter. No exceptions.
Hesitation or hope for the skin-changed had doomed many. We shall not join their numbers.
(The Silver-Gold Child is executed and mourned.)

[] Give the Silver-Gold Child to the Humans.
They have people who can harness the Warp safely; they may know what this is and warn them if something is wrong. If nothing else, a stay of execution is no exemption from the very same.
(Reveal Kil'drabi Psykana: Paths, The Void, Struggle, Community, and Family.)

 

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Lord High Admiral Shiru of House Schischi of the United Fleets of Droma III was a small man, and he was a very angry man.

The last three centuries had not been kind to his House, and the last sixty were among the worst it had ever had to endure, coming closer to extinction than it had been since its founding seven thousand years ago when this world had been brought into the embrace of the Holy God Emperor. Year after year, month after month, news and decisions would come and be reached that saw that little bit of power slip from his grasp that had once been though adamantium-clad and secure within their halls and branches, only to fall to intrigue and hostile schemes of the other Lord Admirals seeking their downfall and their ascension in the tide.

But that was something he could have dealt with; that loss of political power, hard in laws or soft in allies and means, could always be retaken with the right moves and the correct decisions on the journey through treacherous waters. Every law reversed or brought back under their control and now used against other Houses, every ally lost repaid with spilled blood and salty graves when taken by force, or with daggers in the back and their House Fleets rusting on the ocean-ground where none save the Kischka would nip upon their bones and creaking hulks.

He could have dealt with becoming just a minor player as the supposed ruler of this planet, a lure placed by far bigger fish, as that would have given him time and space to plan and enact reversals and meeting out of justice long overdue against those now arrogantly acting like they would always be their betters.

He could have endured that.

He could not endure the humiliation they now heaped upon him with every day and every opportunity. The very thought of the coming days and weeks and what cruel words and malicious snubs they would design in their disdain for him and his once so proud House brought a wave of great anger upon his mind. His hands once more clenched within his bedroom as he stared in the light of the stars out at the seas gently lapping upon the shores of his Palace-Fortress Island and the town nestled within its protective embrace. He could have endured much and would have endured more, but the humiliation had proven to him how little he could stand being looked down upon as a person rather than as a sailor upon the ship of governance.

It had started minor, some snubs that could be very well accidental and always apologized for here, a moment of wait when he visited their islands or city-fleets trawling across the safer waves explained as servants failing in their duties there. But these plays soon escalated with every drop of power slipping from the hands of his House. Snubs turned ever more unexplained, and apologies began to lack when he could not press and condemn. Waits became the norm instead of rare occurrences that greatly shamed those he graced with personal audiences on their fleets as per ancient traditions and customs.

It had been irksome, and he had charted ways to fortify his position before it sunk too far to become nothing more than a shallow instead of a mountain rising high.

But then the Xenos had come.

He had been content to secure his home against any aggression of theirs, especially when ancient documents had shown this brand of despicable Xenos to be of the lesser offensive ones, which would usually be plied with diplomacy before being wiped out once a sufficient force had been amassed. That this bunch sent minerals to the rulers of the systems they took anchorage within also weighed upon his mind, willing to wait and see before he would give the order to sail out and destroy if they did not pay or acted with hostility. And all the while, his lessers urged him to act, naked greed within their eyes as they argued that the Kil'drabi already had more than enough mineral wealth within their holds to make any loss null and void and that they should not suffer Xenos within a system of the God Emperor.

Their pleading became a moot point when Inquisitor Drilla arrived within the system ahead of a fleet, ordering the SDF to join him in his assault against the Xenos and their no doubt despicable machinations. House Freiwallia had joyously agreed and ordered, above his head, for the fleet to sail out and crush these Xenos, their orders heeded as they had long ago replaced the captains with their choices and picks.

The crushing defeat they had suffered and the loss of all their ships were naturally placed only upon his head rather than the shockingly thorough rot they had introduced to the SDF underneath his and all other Houses' noses.

Humiliation pure and simple, one that the other Houses had eagerly lapped up as truth and fact to use against him, but though it was the most visible form the loss of power and prestige had taken, it was not, in his opinion, the grandest and most cruelest portion the Houses had done.

House Schischi had always been a patron of the unfortunate but talented, be they pure human or abhuman, fostering their talents for the good of the House and to act as a shining beacon of what hard work and dedication could achieve under their just rule. A squad of Ogryn Bone'eads always accompanied the children of the House to safeguard them as the most visible example. At the same time, musicians and artists of all disciplines were sponsored, like a seamstress from Carlo McConnell...or a ratling musician that put all others to shame the most recent acquisition of the House, with hundreds more, abhuman or not, in his employ for their talents and future.

All other Houses knew that, and, with some glee, three had taken to "sponsor the talented" like his House had some seventy years ago. He would have been pleasantly surprised that they acted on more than immediate benefit or to create something better for their children, but those sponsored soon put that thought to an early and brutal grave. It had been just another mockery, as they had bought female beastmen and put them into fine livery or dress to parade around, a clear insult to him and his House.

It enraged him to see an ancient tradition like that be used to mock him, but what enraged him more was that these abhumans quickly were taken up by all other Houses and were used to mock him ever more. But nobles did as nobles do, and he quickly noticed that more Beastmen women joined their ranks when there should be none coming, and their beastly features had receeded. And so when tradition forced him to sail to another fleet, he was made to wait and be "entertained" by empty-eyed, bright-smiling, and mind-broken bastard daughters whose veins thrummed with beastmen and noble blood. He could feel his skin crawl when another generation joined these, too, features receding more. It was abomination, and it was utter humiliation to be made to wait with, and even have the very same, abhuman incest-mistresses be heard before he was "allowed" to enter.

Within his bedroom, where Lord Shiru had stared out at the star-lit sight, he felt his hands tremble in utter fury as his mind recounted every time he had seen their faces, every time he had to endure such disgrace upon his person and the time he had nearly done what would have ended his House right then and there.

Because he had decided nine years ago that this state of things could end in nothing other than with the blood of siblings tinging the ocean red in civil war, where he would rid himself and his world of the useless and the abominable.

But he had been invited and had to heed the call of tradition. So he had appeared for a feast held in honor of the new ships soon to sail the system once more, but he had been made to wait with the empty-eyed husks of bastard daughters born by Felinid blood who had been insistent in their attempts to "entertain" him while they waited.

Were it not for the fact that he knew none of them could have known what he had done...he would have given these broken children the release of death they deserved before purging every member of the Houses he could get his hands on in the feast with digi-flamer, power-sword, and hatred.

But that was the day he knew that death was how this all would end, and death he would give them all, as he had one advantage the others did not: he knew about the station in the heart of the stars. A hateful grin split his face, hands gripping the balustrade, as he recalled the lucky find thanks to his family's ancestral artifacts guarded well and the conversations he had listened to from the ships stealthily crossing the system in search of salvage and materials. As well as the fact that there were Angels of the Emperor on the station, and they valued their secrecy. He would swear an oath to them to uphold that secrecy...provided they would aid him in ripping apart these KARKI-

"Grandpa?" A small voice suddenly spoke up behind Lord Shiru, and he whipped around, adrenaline coursing through his veins as his heart beat the drums within his ears.

Breath caught in his throat.
Eyes trembled as he beheld a nightmare deeper than any others he held.
His brain screamed.

Then his granddaughter stepped from the shadows of the entrance with her plush in her tiny arms, the large sharpuktu grinning viciously in contrast to her sniffling face and her tussled hair.

Hair. Not ears.

He let out a breath, his mind steading itself as truth reasserted itself over primal fear. His wife had been scrubbed of her heritage, and his daughter once again of all that could potentially have slipped through. His granddaughter was safe. She was safe.

"I had the bad dream again," she said, walking closer to him and looking down at the floor in shame. "I do not want to sleep alone," she continued, a tremble in her voice.

His heart nearly broke, and he closed the few steps between them in a second before he kneeled gently and hugged her, letting her cry. "The drowning again?" She could only nod in his embrace.

He opened his mouth:
[] I will watch over you.
(Lord Shiru reveals his trait: Heart of Gold. The coming civil war will be far bloodier.)

[] I know it's scary. But fears are meant to be overcome.
(Lord Shiru reveals his trait: Patriarch. You make a little girl cry bitter tears of fear for many nigths to come.)

 

[HeroCooky]

Chyron awoke.

Like a lumbering beast of a high-grav world, his consciousness roused itself from the Long Sleep, and the deepest parts of his mind slowly returned to him, eyes unseeing focused once more as shapes held meaning within his mind, and memories rushed back to him.

For a long moment, he wished, with an aching pain within his soul, to stay there, in the lands of dream and past. He had been with his Brothers there, bolter and chainsword in hand, roaring deathly defiance against the abominations that defied Humanity and the rule of the Emperor. Back in those days when they had numbered in the hundreds, when he could walk the hallways of their ships and meet others on their way to duties eternal and manifold, chapter-serfs long since accustomed to the passing of their manifold masters.

His great frame shook itself loose from its slumber, data roaring back into his skull and into his brain, reports and numbers as quickly read as they were used to plan for the future. At the same time, he looked at the only other Lamenters in the universe kneeling before him with swords before them, heads bowed in like with the other chapter-serfs within the room muttering prayers of protection and jubilation.

Chyron stood to his full height and knew the pull of the Long Sleep once more, already calling him and calling him deeper still. He had little time to impart all that it meant to be a Lamenter upon these Neophytes. Maybe another century before his mind would fracture too much and he would be entirely gone, perhaps half of that if the Red Thirst took him before that. No matter, he had a duty to the Chapter, and he would see it done until the last moment of his death.

"I awaken," he began the ritual that had always followed after his activation, lines and declarations blurring before his mind as he let routing soothe his aching soul at the sight of his Chapter reduced to a mere four Neophytes, though he...wait. He looked once more at their forms and the armaments they wore, and spoke again after ceremony had been done and observed enough. "What are those swords you wield?" He asked, head turning to the side as he looked them over again in more detail, his internal cogitators spitting back answers that couldn't be true.

"These are Power Swords, Matanel Mk.64-Pattern to be exact, honorable Chapter Master. We began with their construction shortly after you went to your Long Sleep," Alpha replied dutifully, holding the sword level to the ground with both hands for him to see, and his mind whirled a bit. Power Swords? Four? For Neophytes? And recently constructed, too? Confusion raced through his mind, and he tried to understand what he was hearing.

"You...constructed four Power Swords?" He asked, and there was a minute shifting in the stances of the four Brothers before him, nervousness bleeding through their bodies where their faces betrayed nothing.

Unfortunately, they must have considered his question a reproach for the number of swords made as Beta spoke up. "Twenty more are within the Chapter Armory," he said steadily, "and twenty more will be produced by the decade's end thanks to the facilities constructed with the aid of the Council. Enough will be made to outfit the Chapter in full with time," he added. It was only thanks to the fact Chyron had been entombed within a Dreadnought that he didn't fall over. Four Power Swords was already a minor boon he had expected to have to make without, but twenty more? And the same again in a decade? Until all of the to-be-made Lamenters would wield such rare and venerable weapons? There was something wrong here, some catch; this was too good to be true. Wait, the Council helped?

"The Council? What have they been up to during my sleep?" He asked, hoping that they were trying to hide more than their unusual attitude toward Mutants, something that would explain this monumental bribe.

"They have recently finished aiding a remnant of the Xeno species known as Kil'drabi establish a small enclave under their guns in exchange for tribute," Delta spoke, and the relevant information rose from Chyron's memories, giving context where only confusion existed before.

"And they have also asked for your attendance when they were informed you would wake," Gamma continued. "The Planetary Governor of Droma III is making demands of the Chapter with blackmail and trickery," he added with distaste in his voice, but Chyron barely listened.

Xenos. Kil'drabi. Extremely minor threat, target of opportunity, do not seek out human populations to kill or enslave, do not practice sorcery or tech-heresy of more than Xenos nature. The Ordo Xenos had a standing order to report the migrations of their fleets to them, and that was all the pretense Chyron needed. He'd keep his mouth shut, blame the lack of communication on the general dearth of astropaths here, and tell the Inquisition that his job was not to do their work for them. His dismissal of the matter of the Xenos and Swords done and justified, he began to turn and lumber out of the chamber.

"Then let us show this arrogant fool why you do not blackmail His Angels."

---

"What do you mean I should accept being blackmailed?" Chapter Master Chyron asked Teeln, Prophet of the Star Child, as the man looked back unafraid and unbowed by the decades that had gone past. Could also have been the juvenat, but that was not important here.

In lieu of an answer, Teeln, Prophet of the Star Child, gestured to the mutant sitting beside him, her gaze a mix between reverential and far away. "The Planetary Governor, Lord High Admiral Shiru, knows that we are here, within the system, even though we have not detected any attempt at spying on us, nor have we had any ship fly under any order other than to be as stealthy as possible. As far as we know, he found us out with archeotech means," she spoke, and Chyron felt his brow crease at that revelation and suspicion. Yet, she continued before he could speak up. "But the important thing is not that he knows we are here, but that he wishes for you to send what forces you can spare to bolster the morale and legitimacy of his side once he begins a purge of the planetary nobility and their supporters. A task that may be more important than we think, or an ask that could end up with us supporting the wrong side, as we have detected subtle Chaos Corruption from Droma III."

Chyron stared. He raised his twin-linked cannon as if to raise a finger, paused, and lowered it. "We are several AUs away from that planet. How did you notice the taint of Chaos from there, much less from a place that isn't already on its way to becoming a Daemon World?"

"We had a lot of free time to refine our control and ability to listen. Well, most of us," she said, a sly side-eye directed at Teeln, Prophet of the Star Child, who looked away inconspicuously. "But the Warp sings of many things if you know what melodies to discard and mistrust. And Droma III hums a tone of pleasure and pain growing louder every month."

"...so we have a developing Chaos Incursion on a planet about to be ripped apart by a civil war, and we have no more information than that its Governor wants to blackmail a Chapter of Space Marines to receive aid in return for silence about your existence? With not even an idea as to who is the side being corrupted?" Chyron grumbled, cursing up a storm about lacking information, when Hymnal Bnuy nodded gravely to both his questions.

He sighed. "Well, all's in a day's work for His Angels. Can I at least count on orbital support should ortillery be required to purge large-scale corruption? And what about additional reinforcements from regular units?"

"We'd need to discuss sending additional units, but I can give a confident yes to the ortillery," Thule-Omicron 55 replied, though she looked slightly sheepish at the next part. "However, we have only seven Scout Monitors available due to industry and logistic concerns, and they are only equipped with a light lance turret. So keep that in mind, especially if close-fire support is requested. We simply do not have the means to deploy more ships or advanced weaponry to the cause," she started, only to be interrupted when one of the Labor Captains spoke up.

"And you know damn well that we'd require a tripling of our current Void Industry to design that Destroyer you desire!"

"Well, it would have been a good idea!" Thule-Omicron 55 snapped back, and Chyron mentally checked out as the Council began to bicker on a low simmer, his mind going over the preparations that needed to be made to ensure his Neophytes would get more from this excursion and live-fire exercise than would presumably be shot from them.

All in a day's work.


You Have 3 [Three] Actions.
[] [General] Instruct SM-001-A To Investigate (Location)
Each has its ups and downs, and each is a challenge. The High-Energy Desert is unlikely to offer more than a look into the system we now reside in, but it will open doors that will not allow others to peek back at us. In contrast to the two, the Inhabited Water World will likely be a danger of exposure and can easily be filled with those unlikely to keep shut about us, but it will have a wealth of information that the other two locations likely won't be able to offer us.
(Locations: High-Energy Desert, Inhabited Water World.
Gain: Knowledge? Warning? Opportunity?)

[] [General] Construct Something
-[] Food Production II
-[] Civilian Infrastructure
-[] Heavy Industry II
-[] Void Industry II
-[] Medical Services
With much of the station freed up, we can begin filling the empty parts again with industry and things we need, from clinics to starch vats feeding us in the void.
(Gain: A district focusing on the chosen option.)

[] [Military] Raise A Specialised [Light/Medium] Infantry Unit - [Choose: Sabotage/Assault/Engineering/Demolition/Ogryn]
With a chosen direction, your Military can now focus on giving the Units you will raise the proper training for the right job. Sabotage Units will focus on raiding and disrupting the enemy with lighting raids and plundering logistics; Assault Units will punch through the enemy in weak points and sow confusion with overwhelming firepower; Engineering Units will focus on creating fortifications and using turrets, mines, and barricades; Demolition Units will be comprised out of heavy weaponry squads with plenty of explosives, from mines to rockets; and Ogryn Units will be Ogryns armored in heavy metals and armed with shields and Beatin' Sticks led by men and women with spiffy hats that will not be disobeyed. Light Units are better for Low-Logistic scenarios, while Medium Units rely more on regular shipments yet strike a good balance between supply consumption and effectiveness.
(Gain: A chosen Specialised Light/Medium Infantry Unit.)

[] [Military] A Task For Specialists (Assign Unit/s)
-[] Medium Engineering Unit
-[] Medium Assault Unit
-[] Light Scout Monitor Ship Squad - (Temporary)
-[] 1 Choir - (Temporary)
There is war to be had and battle to be made. Send troops to resolve issues and squash opposition to the Star Child and Humanity and all His Protectorates.
(Gain: Military dispatched to violently put down opposition.)

[] [Psykana] Hunt down the remaining Psykana Experiments
The Dark Prieshad mainly used their non-production related time for psykana experiments, alongside a dash of biological and demon summoning experiments, the latter of which was sometimes aided by Chaos Space marines that demanded a heavy toll from the people aboard in flesh and souls. Some of the psykana experiments have escaped containment in the chaos of the Waking Rising, and they now hunt the dark and forgotten parts of the station, where they take the souls of the unlucky and those caught off-guard. They need to be hunted down and destroyed, ere they do something worse than merely killing randomly. The Military is confident of only suffering moderate casualties in any attempt to dislodge or hunt the Psykana Experiments. However, Lamenters or Celestial Choir support would further lower that estimation. Additionally, the sections taken by the Experiments have been unusually quiet for years, with no additional victims or breakout attempts detected.
(Gain: Clear the station of Dark Mechanicu Psykana Experiments.)

[] [Psykana] Conduct a Melody (Choose one below.)
The Celestial Choir has been given the means, and now, with time, they shall conduct their songs. They will listen to the Warp and filter out the false whispers from the slumbering guidance of the Star Child. In halting prayer and stumbling humming, truth will be stripped until nothing but it remains in the hands of those who shall make it anew into power to be wielded by the Choirs to come.
(Secret: Slumber, Silence, and Perception.
Star Child: Hope, Compassion, Humanity, Song, Mercy, Creativity, Health, Unity, Innovation, Machinery, Logic, Progress, Protection, Justice, Wisdom, The Sun, The Home, Death, Ruthlessness, Brutality, and Fire.
Kil'drabi: Paths, The Void, Struggle, Community, and Family.
Gain: A Melody newly Conducted.)

[] [Faith] Motive Force And Cradle Slumbers
The nascent Cult of the Star Child has been established, yet it must answer a lot of questions for itself, chief among them the doctrine and truth they shall follow to unite the Omnissiah and the God-Emperor with the Motive Force, or if that will not be needed should Teeln, Prophet of the Star Child, be graced with another vision that would lay this debate to rest.
(Gain: Nail down the technical aspects of the Cult of the Star Child, improving your technological means by proxy.)

[] [Faith] Preach To We Who Yet Wander
Having been brought under the gentle embrace of the Star Child and giving tribute to those who fight in its name for a better galaxy, the Kil'drabi represent the first among many Xeno species we shall show an existence beyond fighting for only themselves. Already culturally compatible with the ideals and tenets of the Star Child, focusing on community and cohesion against the dangers of the void and long travels, bringing them fully into the fold would be a boon for all. Though that will most likely happen naturally over a century or two, just not as thorough as some may like, thanks to their small numbers and frequent contact with us.
(Gain: The Kil'drabi are slowly converted to the Cult of the Star Child and given more resistance to the predations of Chaos.)

[] [Chapter] It's Not Blackmail When You Get Something Too
The Governor of Droma III may think he managed to blackmail the Lamenters into doing his bidding, but in reality, the five of them will crash the civil war by combining it with a learning exercise and a fact-finding mission to see who is getting Corrupted here.
(Gain: The Governor of Droma III gains the aid of five Space Marines. You figure out who is getting Chaos Corrupted, and several Ortillery strikes will likely follow.)

[] [Other] Take Care Of [Future Or Current Problems]
(Write-In the problem being addressed.)
(Gain: Turn to address the issue.)

AN: Adding troops/taking Actions to help in the civil war will shift the outcome by degrees in the direction of the non-corrupted side of the war.

 

[HeroCooky]

Three years.

That was how long it took until the last of the Corrupted Nobles had been slain and killed, their corpses burned to ashes and the same placed into leaden boxes quickly flung into the stars of the system.

It took only one year for Bnuy to already wish she was away from this wet and damp world filled with the noise of silent anticipation underneath the waves, though the largest part was that she missed the touch of anything other than fabrics and metal upon her fur and frame. Picts and recordings were no replacement for feeling his warm hands upon her body. Yet, she, like all other Hymnals or Mutants, could not show her body to the people here, neither in combat when they supported their fellow siblings in faith by singing songs of aid and strength or during times of rest when they faced those of import in the liberated city-fleets or rare fortress-islands, or when they attempted to carve a new Melody within the Warp, one of protection and safeguarding. It would have ended very badly for everyone involved. So they had become a regiment of void suit-clad offworlders fighting viciously aside a group of terrifying psykers and noble Angles of the Emperor. But that would soon be a non-issue, as they would reside upon this world for only this night before they would return home, and Bnuy hungered deeply to make up for lost time once Teeln had been cornered by her.

Even if...some portions of the planet weren't as irritating as others, she thought, looking back from the balcony she stood upon and back into the sizeable feasting hall where the remaining loyal low nobility had gathered to throw a farewell celebration to Chapter Master Chyron and the Neophytes, alongside the officers of the Assault Regiment. The discordant noise from within bordered on a cacophony, souls meshing and clamoring within the Warp to scream and mingle their song and sound amidst the others for words within the right ears and at the correct time, knives of dark notes carefully sheathed even as each and every noble within nervously tapped their hilts as they watched all others do the same.

Or, at least, those who weren't baffled and silent as they spoke to Chyron or beheld his form gently walk here and there, all directed by a giggling young girl sitting atop his frame in a dress that contained more fabric than Bnuy had ever had on her person within the first two decades of her life combined. And whenever a noble tried to comment on the child sitting atop his frame, purring happily away as she surveyed her realm to the awe and jealousy of her peers at the sidelines, he denied any knowledge and acted dumb, only to be directed somewhere else once a mewl escaped the tiny soul sitting atop to drive him somewhere else her childish mind had found more interesting.

And speaking of something interesting...it was not with a mewl, nor a purr, and neither a growl that another dimmed soul entered the balcony with her. It came with the hushing of the Warp, noises and melodies silencing themselves as the Queen of this world stalked forward, proud drums beating at her every step and fierce strings swishing across the world with a subtle twist of hips that did not belong onto her frame. This was not a noble, neither a commoner nor merely one who held power. No. This woman breathed with her domain in like, a soul of unbent fire crackling within eyes and vicious fangs staying from Bnuy's throat by contemptuous will.

A woman whose soul did not belong in her body. Interesting.

And a woman who leaned against the balustrade, smelling the ocean wind with a smile upon her lips and eyes turning to Bnuy, utterly feeling at ease in her company despite her psyker nature.

"You are not human," she spoke. Ice cracked within the Warp, and powers swirled their discordant tunes as Bnuy called upon them, ordering those she needed with fingers twitching under her cloak and subtle movements of her head.

"I am," she replied, a melodious tone escaping lungs and forming upon lips as both women stared at each other, anticipation swirling around the two.

"No, you are not," the Queen said and turned fully to regard the ocean, causing Bnuy to pause the drawing of her power. "I know the way you walk. Those legs you hide beneath your robes are not of human shape. You are not human," she continued, breathing deeply once more.

"And I could hear the growls of your soul when you resided over the trials of your foes, the purring aside the one it claimed as mate and those protected as kith and kin, and the pride with which it stalked among those regarded prey. Your body is not the one you were born with," Bnuy whispered, subtly struggling to hold her song at the ready, though it strained to be either let go or used.

A grin stretched across her face, and there was a wild beating of the hunt within her soul, eager spirits answering calls for feasts and chase joining the melody. "Then I think we both better still our tongues, lest we bring death to our shores," the Queen declared, not suggested, to her, and Bnuy slowly let go of the powers she had called upon. But a note of melancholy and yearning entered the soul of the woman opposite her. "Are you Felinid?" She asked.

"No," Bnuy answered. A head was hung, and dismay warred with stony acceptance while a sigh left her body.

"I had guessed so. And yet, I had hoped you were so I could have the chance to talk to one not traumatized by the cruel hands of those with power over those with none."

A beat passed, and Bnuy began to speak, urged on by a feeling and a hunch given by the Warp. It was her part to talk now, lest she let this duet become a dirge. "Was your mate not one with power over you when you had none?"

"He was, and when I had been naught but a seamstress on unknown shores and within a foreign port, catching the eyes of a young noble boy had been a fate I had nearly despaired at," she said, body turning to look back into the hall where she spied her mate and had her soul sung primal tones Bnuy had rarely ever heard, rarer still returned as the two did whenever they stood beside another. She knew beyond knowing that, should the two have their souls ripped from their bodies upon their death and stuffed into another one for one more attempt at life, then they would find each other again and know beyond knowing love pure and eternal once again. "I was lucky that though his eyes found my body pleasing, his mind demanded courtship as tradition demanded, no matter our stations, and I found myself his when he swore to become mine."

"Then I will pray that your lives hold for centuries yet. Love is rare, and love beyond death shared deeply between two souls all the more," Bnuy spoke, meaning every word, a string within her soul plucked to remember this oath eternal until fulfilled.

The Queen merely smiled and looked with contentment at her mate for moments stretching into eternity. Yet, that moment passed as true as any, and she turned once again to regard Bnuy standing beside her in anticipatory silence. "A neat trick," she commented idly, her soul unperturbed at the idea of mental manipulation, "though I hope you do have the decency to answer two questions of mine own for one of yours?" Bnuy nodded, slightly puzzled at the notes within the Warp, as she had let go of her song and let it fizzle without effect. "If not Felinid, but still of Human lineage, what manner of Abhuman are you?"

Bnuy felt her thoughts race and quickly settled on a name Teeln had given her when he had spoken to her of the visions of Old Terra and wondrous worlds given to him by the Star Child. "A Lagomorph from the lands of Celtic," she said, though neither name meant anything to either woman beyond being a people and a place unheard of in millennia.

"The second question is more of idle curiosity, as I know by now that your people and station were transported here through a warp storm," the Queen said, unwittingly etching the cover the Council had decided upon for how they came to be here deeper into the narrative of the Warp.

"But what do you actually call yourself? I have heard so many variations..."

Bnuy spoke freely:
6-HOUR MORATORIUM
[] (Write-In Faction Name)

An: That's how your forces look right now:

Spoiler: Picture

 

[HeroCooky]

Protection.

The act of keeping something safe from another thing. Defending from something, shielding, sheltering, preserving, or conserving a designated state or being.

Protection offers safety from harm, security from a threat, and sanctuary amidst dangerous places and situations.

The Warp sings of many things, but it sings to the meaning of things far before it speaks about anything else. So, any attempt to utilize the melodies the Celestial Choir hears within the Warp must be made with the utmost care, slow exploration, and repeating of the shape and size of what Psykana is sought.

Ony may sing a Melody to make the skin of your allies bounce away rounds and fragments, yet a single note off and a minuscule weight placed at the wrong time and no longer is harm turned back, but a zone designated for the minds of soldiers to relax and rest from the toll that war reaps from their souls.

To use the Warp was to know that the outcome was never guaranteed, but it was also to harness powers beyond knowing to your will and goal.

For the Celestial Choir, that goal was to Protect.

And now they could sing in harmony of such Melodies and Hymns.

---

Celenua was a 24-year-old Adept of the Administratum of the Imperium of Man, serving for three years now directly underneath Lord High Inquisitor Nakk Astrobus and His Holy Inquisition in their endless task to ensure the battle for the Human Soul was neither lost nor was the one within the Materium, striking down The Xenos, The Mutant, and The Witch with the same hand that wielded Bolter and Flamer against the Heretic, Heretek, and Traitor.

And for those three years after her Lord had rescued her family from execution by a corrupted official, Celenua had never seen one person look at her Lord with anything other than awe and fear, dread in their voices and bodies when they witnessed his displeasure and when they beheld the judgment of the God-Emperor meted out by his even and terrible hand, his very soul seeming to radiate malice from the way he walked and the sneer upon his scarred face. And it was not merely the office and his station that had awarded him fear and loyalty, but his stature and demeanor.

Though not tall, he still stood a good bit taller than Celenua by a half-head, having been born on a higher-grav world had stunted his growth in the same twist as it had allowed him to grow strong. Strength he dearly needed, as the manifold scars across his entire body showed, the delicate and rough lines criss-crossing across his broad shoulders and back, from his torso to his neck and face. And although he had avoided strikes to his eyes thus far, his mouth was a different beast, a despicable Xenos having taken a swipe at him that now permanently marred his face, once mayhaps called ruggedly handsome, now turned into a cold sneer upon the world.

Celenua knew the scars and the tales of hardship in the name of humanity they told he had endured well, for she had never seen her Lord go a day without training with dogged determination against retainer and machine alike, honing his body to a weapon fit to be wielded by the God-Emperor. But where for others it would have resulted in a body of sculpted muscles set in stone, his always seemed to carry a soldier's fat within. As if his body recognized that it would see days of long hardship with little food again and again, it added a solidness to his frame that mere muscles could not add, turning a sculpted statue into a man ready to fight for days on end.

And, in her eyes, it added a hint of the softness within that none but she seemed to have seen. Celenua had never known a Lord that had talked to their subjects just as he did daily; never had them seen remember faces and names with such ease as her Lord did or take an interest in their lives. And never had she read about a man as dedicated to the people he was tasked with guarding as him, the fleets under his command ferrying out planetary evacuations of not only industry and military but also its people on the regular. Tens of billions had been saved thanks to his endless work, and billions more had taken up the calls to arms he sent into the void, armies marching under the banner of humanity still loyal to the God-Emperor, whereas others had turned their backs and exchanged their faith for heresy and treason.

Lord High Inquisitor Nakk Astrobus was a man who carried the fate of hundreds of billions upon his back, who had seen the monsters within the dark and dared them to come at him with flamer and bolter in hand, who stood in front of a thousand innocents at every second of his life and budged not one step if he could save them from the predations of The Mutant, The Xenos, and The Witch. One who never forgot the days of joy and grief of his servants, who tore down the corrupt judges and nobles to elevate the true nobility of every world to the top, and who always seemed to have a piece of candy on him in case he came across a child in need of some light in the dark.

And yet, walking into his office with the newest reports in her arms, Celenua could not help but weep at the sight she saw; a man who shouldered worlds without complaint, being worn down by the billions he could not save, and the billions that turned away from the light of the God-Emperor under his watch. Laying down the scrolls and tablets to a quiet thanks from him, she lingered, watching his face grow ever darker with every line, and she oh-so dearly wished she was no coward. To say that he was not alone, to press him against her chest so that he may rest for but a moment and let her carry a fraction of the burden he did.

He was a man who had grown used to being feared and wielding fear.

Celenua wished she could hold him just one time, to tell him that he was loved, and see that dark shadow over his face retreat for but a second, even if it would cost her her life.

But she was a coward, so she left after standing uselessly for a moment within his office, her body not moving closer as she demanded, but away. Away and out, to leave him to shoulder burdens greater still.

---

Lord High Inquisitor Nakk Astrobus was an 846-year-old Inquisitor of His Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition, Ordo Hereticus, and for nearly 80-odd years, he has defended the Sectors of the Imperium that had the misfortune to lay near the Somnium Stars and on the wrong side of the galaxy after it had been split in two by the Cicatrix Maledictum.

It had been 80 years of constant retreats, giving up planet after planet for time and consolidation, erasing any use of those once-mighty bastions of humanity with planet-shattering finality wherever bold stands could not be made, as force-preservation was the name of the day. He needed the years to build the fleets to ferry the armies that were to beat back the darkness once more.

And it seemed another evacuation may be needed in Sub-Sector Archwan, as the damned Orks were threatening to overwhelm the traitors in Gnatiila, and if not given a fight in Ubraka would strike through Neumidia into lacking defenses and low-populated planets he had hoped to bolster with the refugees from every corner of the galaxy.

Frowning, he mentally went through the list of his forces and settled on sending the 9th and 11t Felinid Auxilia, the 431st Scriptori Skitarii Cohort, and the 1.344th, 1.421st, and 885th Urbanata Infantry Regiments once they had been declared free of taint after cleaning up that Chaos insurrection on Ysitzorn's World. He could even-no. His mood instantly soured for the worse as he reminded himself that he could not place an Officer of the Auxilia in charge of the holding operation; the morale would be too significantly weakened by following the orders of an Abhuman instead of a human. No matter that he had found the Felinids to be, to the shame of every son and daughter of the Imperium within these Sub-Sectors, far more loyal and fierce in defense of the same, no matter the derision heaped upon them. It enraged him that he had to waste such exemplary assets to the Imperium by placing them under men and women who handled them like they were expendable if not suitably advised by him.

With long-used practice, he tore himself from that train of thought and instead mentally scheduled transports for the force, and penned in some time later today to give them the right to raise tithe-regiments from Droma Tertius. The planet should have recovered by now after the shit show his former apprentice left there and should be able to provide ships for the transport of those regiments themselves, provided the nobility wasn't doing something stupid, like waging a civil war. He paused. Then he mentally added another ship to ferry the tithe-regiments, as the nobs would absolutely do something like that if it gave him another headache.

It was at this moment that the closing door notified him that the girl had left, and some manner of tension left his body.

"I've been at this for over 800 karking years," he muttered to himself while working on various orders and signing papers, "and I still don't know how to deal with that brand of groxshit. At the very least, Celenua just stands there...yearning. The other three are trying to be seductive." He shuddered at the thought. None of them were over forty; even the idea of entertaining them felt like he was cradle-robbing, and he had no intention of starting anything with these children.

Nakk Astrobus still didn't know just why there always seemed to be a gaggle of men and women trying to catch his eye, and the paranoid part of him was sure that once he did, he'd know how to make them stop. At this point, he had tried everything and had already circled back again once more to trying to ignore it all. It still vexed him that he could never figure out the why, as he had neither a good-looking face nor had he ever managed to rid himself from that pudge he had gained when he had slutted it up back in the Guard where he was ridden like a horse by more than the instructors.

He almost missed the days of shit-detail and simple duties.

Almost.

You Have 3 [Three] Actions.
[] [General] Instruct SM-001-A To Investigate The High-Energy Desert
Each has its ups and downs, and each is a challenge. The High-Energy Desert is unlikely to offer more than a look into the system we now reside in, but it will open doors that will not allow others to peek back at us.
(Gain: Knowledge? Warning? Opportunity?)

[] [General] Construct Something
-[] Food Production II
-[] Civilian Infrastructure
-[] Heavy Industry II
-[] Void Industry II
-[] Medical Services
With much of the station freed up, we can begin filling the empty parts again with industry and things we need, from clinics to starch vats feeding us in the void.
(Gain: A district focusing on the chosen option.)

[] [Military] Raise A Specialised [Light/Medium] Infantry Unit - [Choose: Sabotage/Assault/Engineering/Demolition/Ogryn]
With a chosen direction, your Military can now focus on giving the Units you will raise the proper training for the right job. Sabotage Units will focus on raiding and disrupting the enemy with lighting raids and plundering logistics; Assault Units will punch through the enemy in weak points and sow confusion with overwhelming firepower; Engineering Units will focus on creating fortifications and using turrets, mines, and barricades; Demolition Units will be comprised out of heavy weaponry squads with plenty of explosives, from mines to rockets; and Ogryn Units will be Ogryns armored in heavy metals and armed with shields and Beatin' Sticks led by men and women with spiffy hats that will not be disobeyed. Light Units are better for Low-Logistic scenarios, while Medium Units rely more on regular shipments yet strike a good balance between supply consumption and effectiveness.
(Gain: A chosen Specialised Light/Medium Infantry Unit.)

[] [Military] A Task For Specialists (Assign Unit/s)
-[] Medium Engineering Unit
-[] Medium Assault Unit
There is war to be had and battle to be made. Send troops to resolve issues and squash opposition to the Star Child and Humanity and all His Protectorates.
(Gain: Military dispatched to violently put down opposition.
Note: For use outside your territory or in support of forces specified within another Action.)

[] [Psykana] Hunt down the remaining Psykana Experiments
-[] Use Excessive Caution
We do not know what is happening, but most Psykana-held sections are utterly silent, with some having had their occupying Experiments ripped apart by something. In contrast, others have gained the confusing addition of a scrap heap twisted into a rough approximation of the Star-Child's symbol. What is happening here?
(Gain: Clear the station of Dark Mechanicus Psykana Experiments.)

[] [Psykana] Conduct a Melody (Choose one below.)
The Celestial Choir has been given the means, and now, with time, they shall conduct their songs. They will listen to the Warp and filter out the false whispers from the slumbering guidance of the Star Child. In halting prayer and stumbling humming, truth will be stripped until nothing but it remains in the hands of those who shall make it anew into power to be wielded by the Choirs to come.
(Secret: Slumber, Silence, and Perception.
Star Child: Hope, Compassion, Humanity, Song, Mercy, Creativity, Health, Unity, Innovation, Machinery, Logic, Progress, Protection II, Justice, Wisdom, The Sun, The Home, Death, Ruthlessness, Brutality, and Fire.
Kil'drabi: Paths, The Void, Struggle, Community, and Family.
Gain: A Melody newly Conducted.)

[] [Psykana] Sing a Song (Choose at least Three below.)
Mere Melodies are not the end of the journey, nor should they be the start. They are the middle, from which all things shall grow and wither.
(Available: Protection I
Gain: A Song.)

[] [Faith] Motive Force And Cradle Slumbers
The nascent Cult of the Star Child has been established, yet it must answer a lot of questions for itself, chief among them the doctrine and truth they shall follow to unite the Omnissiah and the God-Emperor with the Motive Force, or if that will not be needed should Teeln, Prophet of the Star Child, be graced with another vision that would lay this debate to rest.
(Gain: Nail down the technical aspects of the Cult of the Star Child, improving your technological means by proxy.)

[] [Faith] Preach To We Who Yet Wander
Having been brought under the gentle embrace of the Star Child and giving tribute to those who fight in its name for a better galaxy, the Kil'drabi represent the first among many Xeno species we shall show an existence beyond fighting for only themselves. Already culturally compatible with the ideals and tenets of the Star Child, focusing on community and cohesion against the dangers of the void and long travels, bringing them fully into the fold would be a boon for all. Though that will most likely happen naturally over a century or two, just not as thorough as some may like, thanks to their small numbers and frequent contact with us.
(Gain: The Kil'drabi are slowly converted to the Cult of the Star Child and given more resistance to the predations of Chaos.)

[] [Faith] Preach to Droma III
The people of Droma III are uneasy that heresy and Chaos have managed to take root within their society, short as it was, especially within those charged with steering them clear of such dangers lurking beneath the waves of the world. There are also many that have been hurt and displaced by the war, and more have become pariahs as servants of heretics, ignorance of their lieges allegiances no defense in the eyes of many. Food too will be a problem for a short time, and more could be provided. All things that can be used to preach of the world to come with the waking of the Star Child and prepare another world for the inevitable end and birth of this and the next Age.

[] [Chapter] Another Start Anew (0/2)
After the battles on Droma III, Chapter Master Chyron has deemed the current Neophytes of the Chapter as trained enough to take some of his duties, particularly in training another batch of Neophytes that will be selected and then trained until they meet the absolute minimum standard of the Lamenters to be classed as Scouts. It should only take some forty years if done without aid by the Candle Keepers.
(Gain: The Lamenters gain another 40 Neophytes.)

[] [Other] Take Care Of [Future Or Current Problems]
(Write-In the problem being addressed.)
(Gain: Turn to address the issue.)

An: Places of Importance has been updated.
Also, Felinid Auxilia:

Spoiler: Felinid Commissar

Spoiler: Felinid Scout

Spoiler: Felinid Trooper

Spoiler: Felinid Heavy