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The Galaxy is Flood, Not Food

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Omake by ThatTallGuy1992
  • Apocrypha
    • Ello everyone, on Space Battles Jackson Fox also posts this story, also on it is someone by the name of ThatTallGuy1992 who posts omakes, these typically are short and are from the perspective of other factions, they all detail something about the Flood amd take place well into the future. I recently asked if I could copy and paste these here and got permission from them to do so! I did NOT write any of them and ALL credit goes to them so check out their onakes on Space battles please! Il put a link to them at the end!



    (Note, the following is the stuff written by TallGuy and not me)


    Inquisition Data Packet =][=: Ordo of origin: Ordos Xenos...Subject: Children of the Mantle/Flood ...Authorization Alpha: Access Allowed

    Ordo Xenos analysis: Garden of Old station

    This document is for high ranking officials, Imperial officers, Astartes and members of our most holy Inquisition. Anyone found with this document whom is unauthorized will be executed.

    The Garden of Old is perhaps one of the most important stations in Imperial space and thus must be studied, not only does the station bring hope to an number of our Imperial citizenry but is also positioned in a area that could easily become a threat to Terra itself if not monitored and treated with respect. Many in our order are divided on what to do with the station with half of the Inquisition wanting to destroy the station whilst the other half wish to capture it for what it contains. This is compounded by other factions also wanting their own say of what happens to the station and its contents.

    So to give a better understanding this data packet has been made.

    Section 1: Outer structure and location

    The Garden of Old is a space station of Flood origin, developed as a ambassadorial station the station was placed in the Epsilon Eridani system. Before the station had arrived in the system, the solar system was deemed little in worth with a few uninhabitable moons and large asteroid belts that were formed from a number of destroyed worlds. Who inhabited these worlds were unknown but were believed to be ancient human settlements thanks to their closeness to Terra. When the Flood arrived with their station, they had confirmed that this system was once inhabited by humanity. Greater news still was that this system was in fact the first successful Human colony, the colony in question was called Reach and was consider also to be the first fortress world of mankind. Thanks to this news many consider the system Holy grounds with many pilgrims traveling through the system before arriving in Sol.

    When asked what happened to Reach and the rest of the system, the Flood answered saying that the world was destroyed in the age of Bitter Whispers with the rest of the system soon abandoned after. When ask what exactly destroyed the planet they answered "those whom tasted bronze and iron, those whom lost their way to all but bitter spice". As far as we can translate from Precursor methodology Bitter means twisted, whilst spice means conflict. We have took from this that Reach had been destroyed thanks to the influences of Khorn. A... worrying fact if true given how close it influence got to Terra.

    The station itself lays outside of the asteroid belt that was once the holy colony, in geosynchronous orbit from the belt the station takes a year to make one full rotation around the system. The station is ten kilometers 'long' and 'wide' with a five kilometer of 'height' to the structure. Diamond like in shape the station is one near homogeneous piece, made from glistening materials of a neural physics nature making it difficult for our academics to understand or even quantify.

    The station although considered 'under armed' by the Flood is still armed with currently unknown weapons, and with the materials of the Garden believed to be nearly if not actually indestructible many military analysts classifying the Garden as a Black Fortress level threat.

    This had many worried that the Garden could easily be turned into a staging point for the Flood and their allies for any attack on Terra and Mars. However what is inside the station itself has many people trying to prevent the station from ever being destroyed.

    Section 2: internal structure

    The Internal structure of the Garden is a marvel and miracle in of itself. Even those staunchly against the Flood and their Children knowledge it! But what makes this internal structure is something that many in the mechanicus question on where the ancient archotech beings and the enigmatic Neural physics begins.

    The beginning of the internal structure beings with the docking ports of the Garden, there is little special about the docks themselves other then their advanced gravity and atmospheric systems that surpass ours. The docks also use advanced automated systems derived from Forerunner designs to maintain and repair docked ships that rest in its ports.

    The travel into the inner structure of the Garden is considered quick with a number of options to travel further into it, first is the gondola's. Floating platforms that can take one to the Gardens themselves, this is the most common form of travel until entering the gardens. Second is the teleportation grid, this system is highly resisted and is only available to the security forces on the station and high ranking designates. The third and final form of transport that isn't walking is the internal star road that is in the Gardens, however the Road only takes the user to the center of the station. Which is called Alexanders Library.

    When on enters further into the station one realizes the greater nature of the station, thanks to advanced archotech the inside of the station is far larger inside. The gardens, of which four exist are each the size of a continent.

    Each Continent is a self contained biosphere of the nature of past world inhabited by mankind with each continent containing life once extinct.

    These 'Gardens' are Reach, Harvest, Onyx and finally....Terra.

    As one can imagine, the recreation of Terra's past life on the station has made many in the Imperium...Divided. Many consider the Gardens as holy as show the past beauty of Terra, and with rumors being confirmed by Roboute Guilliman that the The Emperor had wanted to restore Terra's biosphere, many see it with hope and what can be best religious enlightenment. Even some of the most zealous of the Ecclesiarchy see any possible damage to this Garden as one of the highest levels of heresy. The Terran Garden itself though has rebirth the life once found in the Africa continent and is considered to be the most holy of the Gardens.

    The other three are also of interest, Onyx in particular. Reach as has already been told was Humanities first successful extra-solar colony so it considered holy thanks to it. Harvest was the world where first contact was made with the Covenant and thus the first intelligent xenos life, it was also the place where the first peace treaty of the Covenant races and the beginnings of the second Covenant began, it is considered the least holy but still of import. The final one is perhaps the most interesting outside of Terra Garden.

    Onyx was Humanity first world that was created by humanity, as in we built the world. Although thought to be possible in the Dark Age, there had been no confirmed case of if certain worlds were built by human hands. The Flood showing us the Onyx Garden has gave strong evidence of World construction once being a achieved human technology, and possibly a later common one at that. Onyx's biosphere is unique as it was a experimental biosphere that had a number of designer species as well as transplanted Terran animals, giving the Onyx garden a disproportionate amount of lifeforms. The Mechanicus consider the Onyx Garden nearly as holy as Terra's, considering Onyx as master piece of Human Technology with many a magos biologis considering a pilgrimage to the Garden a holy duty as of late.

    The Gardens themselves are considered by many to be holy sights, even with the controversy of it being of Flood origins. However there is one more place in the Garden of Old that is considered to be as important as the Gardens.

    Section 3: The Great Alexander Library

    The Alexander Library is a artificial structure found in the heart of the Gardens, being ten kilometers wide and thirty high the Library is the only artifact structure in the station that wasn't made by us after the Garden had opened it gates. The structure holds although holding a significant population has only one occupant of real import.

    A Flood diplomat form simply known as 'The Librarian'.

    The Librarian is of import for two reasons, first is that the Librarian shares past knowledge of the galaxy to any that will listen. Even assisting a number of groups in finding artifacts once thought lost, as well as telling us of things stolen such as the Pancea that the Durkhari took from us. The second thing of interest is more...worrying.

    The Librarian was reportedly, once Human.

    In their own words, the Librarian was reincarnated from a Human of a hive world. That they had died of Old age and had been brought into the Floods afterlife. Overtime the Librarian learnt from all the collective knowledge of the Flood and Humanities distant echos and wished to assist in building a better future. The keymind that is Tide allowed this reincarnated them as the Librarian. The Librarian was given a diplomatic role and was allowed to chose his own form to take, the Librarian chose to take a form similar to the past Precursors to honor their past.

    As one can imagine, the Ecclesiarchy wasn't not happy to learn this. The Librarian has debated his views with the Cult members many times at this point with his belief that the Human soul and the Precursors are tightly linked, so much so that they are family and can be sometimes interchangeable. This has many a zealot furious at the Heresy, so much so that there has been at least a hundred assassination attempts on the Librarians existence. All of which have failed.

    The Garden of Old is perhaps one of the most important objects to come out of the Floods reveal, with much of its contents being considered some of the holiest and heretical objects and knowledge to come to light. Its place in the galaxy has left many to wonder on what we have and could lost and what we can gain. This Inquisitor feels that the Gardens of Old could become a obsession for the Imperium and worries where it could lead.

    This one prays that such obsession does not destroy all that we have worked for. End of log, Emperor guide us.

    Log End

    Log end...Please insert new Data pack: God-Emperor be with you =][=

    AN: This one was longer than expected, had wanted to make a short on before going onto the second part of the Precursor history. Aka Humanities golden age. Although after it I think I'm gonna do some character driven Omakes and then army building.

    Although that may not be for a bit, I'm going abroad in a week to France so, next Omake might be a while. Anyways enjoy!

    EDIT: Spelling a gramma

    (Link: The Galaxy is Flood, Not Food )
     
  • Apocrypha
    • Thats all 4 for this week! Il post the final 3 either on sunday (If im not captured by the reading monstor again) Or tuesday!
     
    A couples excerpts on dark eldar childhood:

    source: da big dakka

    "And, by all the void, *the noise*.

    Drukhari knew torture. They were the galaxy's pre-eminent experts in the subtlest torments, the most creative excruciations, in prolonging and wringing out the very last dregs of pain and suffering before a victim's body and mind finally succumbed and they gleefully embraced the release of death. Dhaemira could still remember the first time she had seen her mother flay something alive in front of her. She had screamed too, at first, not knowing why this creature was being hurt. She had wanted it to stop, for not even drukhari were born with the innate impulse to inflict such pain on other living beings. That came later, as a child grew to understand their culture. Soon, the necessity of others' suffering in order to stave off death became pleasurable in and of itself, and cause and effect merged into one. Those that could not accept such reality left Commorragh, to seek solace with the rustics on the maiden worlds or with the spineless ascetics on the craftworlds, to wither and die and have their souls trapped forever, rather than constantly replenish them from the agony of others.

    Yes, drukhari knew torture, to the point where the blunt methods used by other species were akin to a warm bath and a massage. Nonetheless, Dhaemira winced as the sheer volume of the orkish horde crashed into her ears, all jagged noise and brutality, painful in its discordant simplicity and volume. There was no sense to which these creatures were not offensive!"
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    How lelith hespherax was raised:

    The old haemonculus Yukor had overseen Lelith's youth, but there had been no gentle parenting from him, no coddling or protection. He had been charged with raising a new generation of slaves, no more and no less; they had to reach adulthood to be properly useful, but no one was concerned about how they got there, or overly bothered in what condition they reached it.

    Lelith and a few others, the ones with spirit and backbone and cunning – Morghana, Dhaimul, Rhudraex, a handful more – had broken free to carve their own names into the world, but that was all part of the process. The best became predators in their own right, new warriors or wyches or hellions, or anything else in Commorragh that required independent thought and viciousness of mind. The rest became the drudging classes, those too weak to do anything but serve others until their bodies or spirits broke under the strain, or were simply harvested so that their torment could nourish their betters.
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    A entire society built off in the idea of cycles of abuse making victims into new abusers



    Useful for the future portrayal of dark eldars
     
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    Chapter 58 - A New Pattern
  • Threadmarks
    • Day 49



    So, what do we know?

    Tide's tree-form stood within the tree interior, that section of his Domain he essentially kept as a permanent meeting place now, which he had come to call the Hollow. Perhaps a not very unique name, but he liked it. Three others stood with him now, Sathar, Ellen, and Purilla. The Inquisitor and the Psyker appeared as they did in life. Sathar, in defiance of the fact that he was in the presence of a member of the Inquisition, had chosen to take on the form of the collection of worms he'd been using as a body while making his modifications.

    He'd have invited Vidriov, but the tech-priest was going through something at the moment.

    "They are not any known kind of xenos," Ellen said. Tide had known she was intending to speak, but the fact she was first surprised Purilla. Tide would say the Inquisitor was slowly opening up, but she was not to the extent that she'd willingly share information like that. At least, she wouldn't have were it not something of an interest for her. There was a reason Ellen was in the Ordos Xenos beyond mere hatred of the alien. Scholarly fascination, at least for the lesser known xenos with all their strangeness and variety, was strong in her. "Although, based off the images you showed me, they share outward similarities to the Cythor Fiends. Their homeworlds are within the Ghoul Stars, though they were exterminated by the Black Templars chapter, last I recall."

    "The Chapter was accompanied by the 232nd​ and 245th​ Monstrum Urban Cohorts," Sathar stated. His voice was strange, like many smaller ones speaking in unison. It made Ellen and even Purilla seem put-off. "No survivors from either regiment were documented."

    I do recall Cyhor Fiends possessed some kind of technology that permitted them to shatter into pieces and reform, but I have never heard of them possessing powers over the cold.

    "Their technologies are strange and our data on them is limited," Ellen argued. "They could possess all manner of unheard of weapons."

    Regardless, until then, I think we should hesitate to assign any associations between these creatures and any others. Let's go with… Wendigos, until a better name comes along. Nor do I think we should immediately resort to hostile countermeasures.

    Ellen's brow furrowed. "They have attacked you, showed no indication of a willingness to talk, and easily defeated two power-armored warriors."

    We might be trespassing on their territory.

    "This world belongs to the Imperium of Mankind," Ellen scoffed. "If anything, they're trespassing on our territory."

    Assuming the wendigos did not come to this world before humans ever colonized it. The number of records of this world that date back past a mere six thousand years can be counted on one hand. If they evolved naturally upon this world, they would have been here for at least millions of years, if not longer.

    "This world belongs to us!" Ellen insisted. "If not because we came here first, then because we conquered it."

    Did you? The hives and even the ashen sea that might be called your territory covers only a small portion of the surface. The Barren Lands cover nearly as much and the only structures within it are the tunnels that stretch between cities. The Freezing Wastes cover well over half the planet. You might claim it on your star maps, but how much of this world actually belongs to you?

    Ellen was silent at that, glowering at him. However, he could see the gears turning inside her head, almost literally. In the case of Sathar, that was literal, at least for his real body.

    Regardless, I will not simply begin slaughtering them or bombing the area surrounding the wreck until we know whether they are xenos, Immaterial, or even machine in origin. I still wish to send troops to retrieve the Space Marines, but I would prefer to avoid these creatures rather than engage. They have yet to attack Sentinel-01, despite the presence of several bioforms within it. I want to know what they are, why they've done what they've done, and whether or not we can cooperate.

    "And… if we can't?"

    I'm hopeful, not foolish. If they are a threat that cannot be reasoned with, they will be dealt with.



    Vidriov stared through borrowed eyes at the hazy sensor outlines of the area where the two modified power armors had been, looking hard at what was essentially a blanket of freshly fallen snow and nothing more. Whatever had attacked the pair of scouts, the creature or creatures Tide had dubbed Wendigo based off an ancient Terran myth, had left the bodies behind. Except, that wasn't quite correct, because it was only the armor that remained now. The bodies inside had vanished not long after their deaths. Their sensor logs of the moment where it happened were poor, but it almost had looked like the bodies were leaking out of the armors.

    Sathar's suit had stood in the snow, the body within it having frozen solid, despite a large hole having been ripped into its torso, but then it had collapsed without the body to keep its balance. Vidriov's armor was in an even sorrier state, having been tossed about like a ragdoll and nearly having been bisected by the wendigo's claws. It too was now missing its body, something Tide had confirmed with a bioform protected by the Star Road.

    It was clear to them all that the creatures possessed some power over the cold. The bioforms that had been attacked had almost seemed to have their heat ripped away from them faster than the laws of reality should allow. Their disappearance was yet further proof that their powers unnaturally affected rea`lity. While Vidriov knew Tide was questioning whether these Wendigos were intelligent or even some kind of non-organic lifeform, it was clear that they were a threat and an obstacle towards reaching the crashed Chaos vessel. Their ability to vanish or sink into the snow was also as concerning as it was baffling. The disappearance of the biomass, while no great loss in and of itself, was also something that needed to be looked into.

    Strangely, no attacks on Sentinel-01 had occurred. The forward outpost's sensors had already proven inadequate when it came to observing the creatures, which seemed to possess some kind of auspex-defying stealth, but Vidriov doubted very much that it was hidden from them in turn. The base was made to be slightly camouflaged in the white and black environment of the Wastes, but even just being near it would allow one to hear the hum of its generators. The armor that protected the large pod was even weaker than the armor of the Sororitas gear and would not have withstood an attack from those strange claws. Yet, no attack had come.

    These were not the thoughts going through Vidriov's mind, at the moment. Instead, he could not help but feel… listless.

    The Faux-Mjolnir armor had never earned its name as much as the moment where the Callidus Assassin had cut it down with insulting ease. Tide, the Omnissiah's Chosen, had given him the outline. And yet… Vidriov had failed to deliver something truly worthwhile.

    It was just a prototype, yes. It had proven effective against a myriad of enemies, only failing before an assassin equipped with weaponry more advanced than anything Vidriov had ever worked with, yes. The battles it had fought had earned invaluable data for future iterations, also yes.

    But he had failed, nonetheless. And yet, the Chosen of his god had given him a second chance. Permitted him to continue working on power armor, had even given him a set of the Sororitas-pattern to work on in his spare time and asked for his help in reaching the Chaos vessel and inflicting righteous judgement on the treacherous Astartes within. More than he deserved.

    And he had failed again. He had been so busy bickering with Sathar, trying to prove himself the superior tech-priest and servant, that he had failed to account for other dangers beyond the cold in the Wastes. That Sathar had failed as well was of no comfort, as it simply meant nothing was accomplished. Tide had been understanding, told them both that the Wendigos were an unexpected obstacle… But Vidriov's mistake had still damaged two sets of power armor that were nearly irreplaceable. They were already being taken apart in a warehouse somewhere in Malum, but there was a high chance that some core components had been damaged beyond repair, nor did their retrieval solve their immediate predicament.

    To reach the Chaos vessel, they needed power armor. There were other means to enter the Wastes, but not without expending an exponentially greater amount of biomass or material to withstand the cold through brute force. Power armor provided the protection and strength to survive with the versatility to reach, enter, and operate within the Chaos vessel. Something like a modified Chimaera would be unable to clamber over the snowy mountain's difficult terrain, while anything larger would simply fall off its side or be buried in the snow. Hover vehicles had been suggested, but such extreme conditions, with so much matter flying around at high speeds, could confuse the control systems, assuming the craft wasn't simply tossed about by the winds itself. Power Armor was not the only way… but it was certainly the easiest.

    However, seeing how easily the armors had been destroyed by the Wendigos, Tide was rightfully hesitant to send further modified units in. It was possible the Wendigos had infested the downed ship, so their issue might not be solved simply by transporting themselves closer to the vessel.

    Vidriov was tempted to simply say that there was no way the Astartes could survive an encounter with those creatures, assuming there were indeed more than one. Even a lone individual might have been dangerous to a Chaos sorcerer, if they could get the drop on them as they had the two suits. Unfortunately, there was a distinct possibility that the creature was not native to Monstrum, but something the sorcerer had summoned or controlled.

    They needed power armor to reach the vessel, but they could not use power armor for fear of it being damaged or even rendered unsalvageable by the Wendigos. To lose so many of those relics for the price of killing a single sorcerer would be unbearable in all their eyes.

    So, what was to be done? Vidriov just didn't know, hence his mood. He felt so very… powerless.

    Vidriov, may I ask something of you?

    Suddenly, Vidriov was no longer looking through the eyes of one of Sentinel-01's bioforms but standing in what almost looked like the repurposed warehouse where they had gone about modifying the armors. It was not that warehouse, however, and Vidriov felt the familiar, welcoming embrace of the Domain all around him. Tide stood before him, in the tree form he seemed to have taken a liking to. Vidriov's own form was that of a man with only a few augmentations, garbed in a red cloak. However, the two were not alone. Sathar was also present, wearing a humanoid, but far more augmented form that was wholly mechanical, as well as their own cloak.

    Strangely, Vidriov felt he could almost see expression in the metal mask of Sathar's face. The Domain often had such wonders, though only when its master desired it to.

    I would like to reassign you both from the Faux-Mjolnir project.

    Shame filled Vidriov at that. Tide was right to be displeased with him and Vidriov was just as displeased with himself. He had dishonored the Chosen with his failures and he opened his mouth to speak thus, only to be cut off by Sathar's own mechanical tone.

    "Forgive my impudence, but I believe you would be mistaken to remove Genetor Vidriov," Sathar stated, looking down at their own metal boots. "His unit proved its superiority from the beginning, being able to survive and operate at full capacity even outside of the Wastes. Furthermore, his experience with the prototype Faux-Mjolnir Mk.0 from the very beginning of the project would be highly valuable."

    Vidriov stared almost slack-jawed at the Logis, barely able to contain his shock at the endorsement from his fellow tech-priest. Even Tide's form seemed surprised, tilting its head as if in genuine shock.

    That is quite-

    "Logis Sathar's design was innovative, exactly what you have stated you wished to cultivate within us tech-priests," Vidriov cut-in and it was Sathar's turn to stare in surprise. "Furthermore, it proved superior by surviving longer in the encounter with the Wendigo than my own did."

    Well, I think-

    "Vidriov's prototype was nothing short of an ingenious work of art!" Sathar blurted out. "I was jealous of the Faux-Mjolnir's ingenuity, I wanted to create an armor that could surpass it in speed, rather than focusing on the commission you desired for me."

    "I was needlessly antagonistic towards him, no doubt slowing his work!" Vidriov almost yelled.

    This is really-

    "Everything you told me was absolutely true and of great benefit to my work!" Sathar whirled around to face Vidriov.

    "The same is true of everything you said to me!" Vidriov spat in reply.

    "Your work with improving the strength of the power conduits to compensate for the added reactor was nothing short of a masterwork!" Sathar all but screamed.

    "Your calculations for the amount of heat the suit would need to give off to remain operational were genius!" Vidriov reached out as though to throttle the other tech-priest, though he only grasped the air.

    At some point, Tide had just fallen silent, watching the two go back and forth, listing off one another's accomplishments and reasons why they shouldn't be removed from the project. It went on for a while, long enough that Tide chose to grow a seat from the ground, branches sprouting out and up to form a cradle for him to rest within, as though that were even necessary. It seemed like the two would go until they ran out of breath, something that wasn't possible in the Domain.

    At least, until Tide decided it was.

    The two tech-priests breathed hard, sweat covering their forms, a strange look given that Sathar was made of metal. And yet, all things were as Tide desired it in this place and the two finally fell silent, too tired to speak more in defense of one another. It was an almost nostalgic experience for them both, given they had not felt exhaustion since many, many augmentations ago.

    You know, despite knowing the two of you on a literally cellular level, you can still surprise me. I was going to say that I would like you both to know that the removal would only be temporary and solely because I have another project that I'd like the both of you to head. Together.

    The pair blinked. Vidriov felt his face heat up in a way it hadn't since he'd had an organic circulatory system, while Sathar looked anywhere but at Vidriov in an attempt to hide their own expression, which no doubt had changed in some way according to whatever rules Tide had set for this encounter.

    "A-ah, I see," Sathar said, straightening and smoothing out their perfectly smooth robes.

    "Yes, that's, uh… yes," Vidriov said. Momentarily, his shame about his failures was overshadowed by another and far less familiar feeling.

    The work is not that different. You will still be working on power armor. Rather than attempting to modify or redesign existing suits, however, I wish for the two of you to create a new pattern of armor entirely.

    That     got their attention. Modifying power armor was one thing, but to design a new suit was… Well, it would put them on the level of the ancestors who were first granted the Omnissiah's wisdom, discovering the technology through their old methods.

    I have a specific idea for this armor, much like I did for the Faux-Mjolnir. Rather than attempting to match the relics we currently possess, this armor must be something that can be produced in large numbers… and quickly. The longer the Astartes remain unaccounted for, the greater a threat they become.

    Sathar and Vidriov nodded, their eyes focused wholly on the tree-shaped being before them. Tide stepped aside, revealing something that hadn't been there a moment before. It was similar to the crane-like harnesses used to support an unpowered and unoccupied set of Sororitas power armor, Vidriov realized, painted a bright yellow. Something large and bulky stood under it, unsupported, and covered by a thin tarp.

    Tide reached out with one limb the size of a man and, with two fingers, drew away the tarp. Both tech-priests felt their hearts quicken a little, despite the impossibility of that, at the sight of the design.

    It was simple, brutish even, with armor that would be of roughly the same protective value as carapace if they made it of mass producible materials. Sections of the exterior plating were missing, and Vidriov thought at first that it was a design flaw, as he could see the occupant of the armor, only to realize his mistake. That was not the occupant, but a secondary suit, a powered frame which the armor was added on top of. The frame provided the bulk of the power and strength, while the armor, easily removed and replaced, provided protection.

    The helmet was of an unusual design, very different from the Faux-Mjolnir and ODST gear Tide had used in the past. A pair of eye holes, covered by layers of bulletproof glass, wrapped in thick armor. Vidriov reached out with both hands and pulled it off, revealing there was no layer below. The helmet sealed itself to the frame and was easily returned.

    It's little more than a modified version of an old design I know of, but it suits our needs. I will give you everything I know of the types of armor that this one is based off of and provide whatever research and production materials you require. I do not want you to think that I expect these armors to rival the relics we currently possess. I only require they survive in the Wastes and are easy enough to produce to garb an army in them. We have nothing that can withstand this Wendigo creature on an individual level, so we shall not strive to face it individually, but with numbers on our side.

    "What is this new kind of armor called?" Vidriov wasn't sure if he'd asked the question or if Sathar had.

    I have been using 'powered frame' as the name of this new kind of armor. Further patterns will also be made, assuming this armor performs its task well. The first, however, shall be the Anchorage-pattern.



    Lord Janiel had not always been a nobleman. Once, he had been nothing but one of the scavengers in the depths of the hives, eking out a paltry existence, covered in grime and soot. It had been on the darkest of those days when he'd gotten a taste of the finer things in life.

    A young man, a noble with a heart full of ideals and the God-Emperor's word, had travelled to the lower levels of the hive city Eris, where Janiel had grown up. He had come with a bag full of money, handing it out to every beggar he could find. Many had received alms from him and many loved him.

    Janiel had found him in an alleyway, stabbed him in the guts, and taken everything he owned, leaving the noble to bleed out. Among those items, he'd found a bottle of what he would later learn was called perfume. Perhaps it was for the noble himself, perhaps it was a gift he intended to give to a friend or lvoer. Janiel had never found out, nor did he care to. But he did care about that perfume.

    It had been a scent beyond anything he had ever experienced before. Strong, yes, yet subtle. Sweet, cloying even, yet tantalizing. So different from the rot and exhaust of the lower hives, Janiel had gone to sleep each night after that smelling that perfect scent and having dreams of going and taking that noble lord's place.

    And then the perfume had run out and Janiel was back among the trash. It was that day, whether he knew it or not, that he had sworn himself to the Dark Prince as he swore he would do anything to regain those sensations.

    Many years and more corpses later, Janiel ruled the hive city of Ate in all but name. The governor, poor, foolish Urien, was nothing more than a worm wrapped about Janiel's little finger. Janiel had found it easy to slip into the governor's confidence, providing him with all manner of delights normally looked down upon by the Ecclesiarchy and noble society. It hadn't even been a month, but the governor already treated Janiel with the respect and reverence he was due, as the deliverer of those delights and more. The same was true of the court.

    Of course, that wretched Ahsael's betrayal had come sooner than expected. Janiel's own betrayal was years in the making and had still been years away from its resolution, but he supposed that was what he got for his loyalty. Janiel had enjoyed watching the scar being torn across the sky by the burning Gallow's Eye. Unlike other sensations, the sight of one's enemies being blown out of existence never got old.

    After the destruction of his former master's ship, Janiel had thought he really should have thanked the Astartes. A stunt like that had ensured Janiel and his cult were ascendant. With the Blood God's followers slaughtered and the Plague Lord's beloved children buried, only the Dark Prince's worshippers remained at any actual strength now that the Architect of Fate's schemers had ripped one another apart for what was, no doubt, a part of some needlessly convoluted scheme. And Janiel had worked his way into the heart of Eris' governor long before he'd ever even set eyes on Ate, giving him practical control over both hives.

    Really, things should have been nothing but easy for him. While the wider Imperium likely wouldn't have accepted it, nor would the Inquisitor, he had it on good authority that Selvik had all but confined the Inquisitor to his palace and had taken control of the war himself. Selvik thought highly of himself and should have been easy to appease with an offer of the heads of the supposed leaders of the rebellion. While losing the governors and their courts would be a setback to his plans for this world, their successors would be easy enough to corrupt. With peace restored and the Imperium none the wiser, he should have only needed lay low until the Inquisitor took her regiments of Guardsmen away or ended up with a knife in her back and then get about to having this planet become dedicated to Slaanesh in mere decades.

    Except, things had not been nothing but easy for him. In fact, he was quite certain that Ahsael's patron god or someone else had decided to punish him for taking satisfaction in the Space Marine's certain demise.

    Both Ate and Eris were now under assault by the damnable Imperials, who had refused his offer of the heads of the governors and their courts served on silver platters. They had even refused his subsequent offers, even more generous than the first.

    Janiel had sent inquiries to his spies across the different hives, but confusing and contradictory answers came back in reply. Some claimed that the Inquisitor demanded the heads of the ringleaders of the uprising, but didn't care about the governors. Others said that Selvik himself was leading from the front, as though that bat-faced bastard would ever leave Deimos. Still more claimed that some colonel from Malum who was either a hero, a living saint, or the God-Emperor reborn had arrived and was responsible for the capture of Janus and the retaking of the three genestealer hive cities in less than a month! As if that was even possible!

    Janiel sat within the throne room of the Ate governor's palace, upon a chair with too high a back and not enough pillows for his liking. The air was laced with drugs and perfume thick enough to claw at the throat and burn the nostrils. The floor around him was covered by the bodies of the governor and his courtiers. They were still alive, judging by the writhing as they enjoyed and suffered the effects of the air, yet Janiel himself felt barely a thing.

    Bringing a pipe, carved of the leg bone of the previous leader of Janiel's cult, up to his lips, he breathed in the toxic fumes that would have killed any of the people before him, though not quickly. He sighed at the concoction, the latest of numberless others, all failures to recreate that perfect scent he'd discovered. They still brought pleasure, but each concoction quickly grew wearisome after only a few repeats.

    Janiel let out a sigh. Was he just waiting here for the enemy to reach the doors? For his head to be taken as the trophy of some Inquisitor? To die like Ahsael, accomplishing nothing but his own downfall? Enraged by the thought, he threw the pipe and there was a half-yelp, half-groan from one of the courtiers as it struck them in the head.

    Suddenly, the doors to the throne room creaked open. Too heavy for mortal hands to move, the mechanical components cried out with unusual strain and the clicking of gears almost sounded like the tapping of dancing hooves. For just a moment, Janiel was reminded of that brute Kalak, but the thought was quickly banished.

    Striding into the chamber was a tech-priest clad in a black cloak made of silks, purple and pink accents stitched along the length of the holy robes, forming sensuous patterns. He was clearly heavily augmented, but where the higher-ranks of the Mechanicus often preferred to depart heavily from the human form, this one seemed to have idealized his. Cords ran under masterfully sculpted metal, made in the form of musculature, with carefully placed coverings ensuring gaps only appeared when he moved. Even the many mechadendrites that so many Tech-Priests possessed were seemingly absent on this one. Covering their face, if they even had one under there, was a metal mask that Janiel was somewhat surprised to see his own features in. Had he stood still, Janiel could have easily thought the priest to be a statue wrought in his own likeness.

    Coming to a stop a respectful distance away from the throne, completely ignoring the wretches that covered the ground around him, Janiel noticed a slight haze clung to the robes of the tech-priest, like he was wreathed in some kind of pinkish fog.

    "Lord Janiel, Master of Monstrum, it is my deepest honor to come before you," The tech-priest said, bending low at the waist in a perfect bow. Even his voice seemed sensuous, deep and rich, with only the barest hint of its mechanical origins. Janiel couldn't help but smile at the empty flattery.

    "And who are you to enter my throne room, tech-priest?" Janiel asked. Perhaps he should have been more upset by the intrusion, yet something about this one had caught his interest.

    "I am nothing, Great Lord, merely a humble emissary." Janiel raised a carefully groomed eyebrow.

    "Oh? And you serve the tech-priests who converted in Eris to worship of the gods? Of the Dark Prince?"

    "I serve the Dark Prince, but I am not from Eris, Great Lord," The emissary stated. Janiel cocked his head. His guards were outside, he realized, under orders not to let anyone through. He'd forgotten. What if this wasn't just some tech-priest, but an assassin? Janiel shifted in his seat uneasily. He had a weapon, of course, but he had never been a great warrior and it was never a good idea to face a tech-priest with unknown capabilities without fodder to test them first.

    "Then who are you?" Janiel demanded. His tone was no longer friendly.

    "I am nothing," The emissary repeated, but continued before Janiel could snarl a reply. "I bring news from beyond this world."

    "What are you blathering about?" Janiel hissed.

    "My master is another great servant of the Dark Prince," He said, as though barely hearing Janiel's words. "They reside now in orbit of this world."

    "There are no ships in orbit," Janiel said with a laugh that was almost a giggle. "The last vessel to take flight, if you haven't noticed, was destroyed and no new ships have entered this system with the Warp Storm in place. And, if you claim to be a servant of Ahsael, we will have no words left between us."

    "I do not serve the Sorcerer," The tech-priest replied and Janiel thought he detected a hint of disgust in his tone. "But my master does reside in orbit."

    "And where exactly do they 'reside', hm?" Janiel asked, scoffing. "One of the airless moons perhaps? That wreck of a space hulk brimming with Orks?"

    Janiel laughed until the emissary's voice cut him off.

    "That is correct."

    Janiel's voice caught in his throat and he sputtered. "You expect me to believe a servant of the Dark Prince resides on an Ork-infested wreck?"

    "There are no Orks on that hulk. Not anymore."

    "Let me guess, the work of your master?" Janiel asked, mockingly, but the tech-priest shook his head.

    "Another has taken control of much of the hulk, a creature who you and I share as a common foe," The tech-priest replied and Janiel cocked his head to the side.

    "A 'creature'?" Janiel repeated. "If you haven't noticed, I'm rather busy fighting the corpse-worshippers."

    "You may believe so, but that is by its design," The tech-priest stated. "It has taken their forms, hidden among them, and now fights their wars."

    "You expect me to believe a race of shapeshifting xenos are responsible for all my woes?" Janiel asked, not sure whether to laugh in his face or call the guards to have his mechanical body reduced to scrap.

    "The Ghoul Stars hold many monstrosities, scattered throughout time and space, which slip into the Materium where lines between realities have thinned," The tech-priest stated, as though that explained anything. "They are creatures from beyond both our realm and the realm of the gods."

    "Oh, of course," Janiel replied, nodding with mock enthusiasm, before falling into the back of his chair, a scowl upon his face. "The Warp and the Materium are all that exist in this universe, fool."

    "The creatures that come to the Ghoul Stars are not from this universe," The tech-priest answered. "They may be of little consequence to the wider galaxy, for even those rare few that do venture beyond these stars are destroyed by the corpse-worshippers, but they can be dangerous to those within this region of space. Usually, that is of benefit to the gods, as the corpse-emperor's followers are inevitably the ones who take the brunt of any damage. However, for those servants of the gods such as us who operate here, they can be… disruptive to our plans."

    "Yes, I'd imagine getting captured by them could be disruptive," Janiel said with a sneer. "In case you haven't noticed, I've already got plenty of difficulties to deal with. If you're asking for me to rescue your master from this bogeyman, I couldn't even if I desired it, which I don't. Ate is under attack, though given the laxity of my guards in allowing you in here, I can well see you might not have realized it. Perhaps I should have you scrapped for servitor parts and use them for the flesh components."

    "You misunderstand, Great Lord," The tech-priest said. "I have not come requesting rescue but offering aid. My master's forces are few in number, but powerful in the destruction they can cause. They would be of great value to your war."

    "Really?" Janiel asked, unimpressed, a single eyebrow raised. "And how exactly does your master intend to aid me when they cannot even rid themselves of some… What was it? Extra-universal monster?"

    "The creature is unaware of our presence and has not attempted to penetrate into the depths of the hulk where my master and their forces reside behind strong seals," The tech-priest answered. "If you require proof, I should be more than happy to demonstrate the power my master and their creations can provide you, Great Lord."

    Once more, a moment of unease passed over Janiel. On the one hand, this tech-priest had somehow made it into the innermost and well-guarded sanctum in Ate and, while Janiel was displeased by them, he didn't think his guards were that incompetent. On the other hand, this could just be some madman or con artist seeking to gain power. It would not be the first Janiel had dealt with.

    And, if he was mad, this would not be the last one either, Janiel decided. The 'Great Lord' nodded his assent.

    "Very well then," Janiel said as the tech-priest rose one hand and snapped his fingers. "Show me these great-!"

    Janiel was cut off by the sound of a thunder clap and a flash of impossible colors. The governor and his courtiers screamed in agony and ecstasy as their flesh and organs were flensed away by some rupture of air and, suddenly, the throne room was no longer so empty.

    His voice caught in his throat at the sight of the monstrosity that now took up the bulk of the throne room, while the tech-priests metal face seemed to shift into a knowing smile. The smell of spilled oil and blood mixed with the perfumes, creating a tantalizing scent that burned his throat. He stared with horrified fascination at the whirring cogs, clanking limbs, and sensuous flesh that merged together to create the abomination in front of him. After what could have been minutes or hours of feeling countless emotions from terror, hope, dread, joy, and disgust, Janiel's attention fell to the tech-priest, though his eyes never left the perfectly horrible giant before him.

    "What do you ask for in return?"

    "Merely a tribute of souls, Great Lord. A paltry sum, truly."

    Janiel swallowed thickly, wondering if this deal was, perhaps, too good to be true. It was only then that the scent of the fog that clung to the tech-priest finally wafted over to him, cutting through the scent of the daemon engine. His nostrils flared as they breathed in the scent of a familiar perfume. When he answered, it was without reservation.

    "Deal."
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Jackson Fox said:
    That wreck of a space hulk brimming with Orks?"
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    Jackson Fox said:
    "You expect me to believe a servant of the Dark Prince resides on an Ork-infested wreck?"

    "There are no Orks on that hulk. Not anymore."
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    Jackson Fox said:
    "The creature is unaware of our presence and has not attempted to penetrate into the depths of the hulk where my master and their forces reside behind strong seals," The tech-priest answered.
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    Well I guess that answers what's left on the Space Hulk. Wondered why Tide wasn't talking about finding anything new on board. Pity that the Orks are gone. Might have gotten past those seals to mess with the Dark Mechanicus by now.
     
    Jackson Fox said:
    The work is not that different. You will still be working on power armor. Rather than attempting to modify or redesign existing suits, however, I wish for the two of you to create a new pattern of armor entirely.

    That     got their attention. Modifying power armor was one thing, but to design a new suit was… Well, it would put them on the level of the ancestors who were first granted the Omnissiah's wisdom, discovering the technology through their old methods.

    I have a specific idea for this armor, much like I did for the Faux-Mjolnir. Rather than attempting to match the relics we currently possess, this armor must be something that can be produced in large numbers… and quickly. The longer the Astartes remain unaccounted for, the greater a threat they become.

    Sathar and Vidriov nodded, their eyes focused wholly on the tree-shaped being before them. Tide stepped aside, revealing something that hadn't been there a moment before. It was similar to the crane-like harnesses used to support an unpowered and unoccupied set of Sororitas power armor, Vidriov realized, painted a bright yellow. Something large and bulky stood under it, unsupported, and covered by a thin tarp.

    Tide reached out with one limb the size of a man and, with two fingers, drew away the tarp. Both tech-priests felt their hearts quicken a little, despite the impossibility of that, at the sight of the design.

    It was simple, brutish even, with armor that would be of roughly the same protective value as carapace if they made it of mass producible materials. Sections of the exterior plating were missing, and Vidriov thought at first that it was a design flaw, as he could see the occupant of the armor, only to realize his mistake. That was not the occupant, but a secondary suit, a powered frame which the armor was added on top of. The frame provided the bulk of the power and strength, while the armor, easily removed and replaced, provided protection.

    The helmet was of an unusual design, very different from the Faux-Mjolnir and ODST gear Tide had used in the past. A pair of eye holes, covered by layers of bulletproof glass, wrapped in thick armor. Vidriov reached out with both hands and pulled it off, revealing there was no layer below. The helmet sealed itself to the frame and was easily returned.

    It's little more than a modified version of an old design I know of, but it suits our needs. I will give you everything I know of the types of armor that this one is based off of and provide whatever research and production materials you require. I do not want you to think that I expect these armors to rival the relics we currently possess. I only require they survive in the Wastes and are easy enough to produce to garb an army in them. We have nothing that can withstand this Wendigo creature on an individual level, so we shall not strive to face it individually, but with numbers on our side.

    "What is this new kind of armor called?" Vidriov wasn't sure if he'd asked the question or if Sathar had.

    I have been using 'powered frame' as the name of this new kind of armor. Further patterns will also be made, assuming this armor performs its task well. The first, however, shall be the Anchorage-pattern.
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    Aw yeah baby! T-51 Power Armour here we come!

    Though perhaps it's some mix of T-51 and T-60?
     
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    Jackson Fox said:
    I don't want to set the world on fire... I just want to start a flame in your heart...
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    So the Anchorage pattern armour is a Fallout set? Smart. They're probably some of the best designs to aim for if you're starting from scratch. The critical bit is technically just the frame and power supply, and if that's all you made you would still have a moderately superhuman workforce or heavy weapons platform the same as any other setting's power loaders. But given they're designed to mount increasingly advanced armours with incredibly modularity, its actual functionality as armour can range quite widely, potentially exceeding anything seen in their native universe. Ultimately anything the frame can physically lift, mount, and power is a go. And it's not like the frame couldn't be improved as well.

    Big question is, what suit is the Anchorage pattern specifically? Or is it a custom model? Well, it'll be a custom model regardless as imagined by a Techpriest, but I mean the initial mental image. Fallout 76 has a good selection but I'm not sure any of them are appreciably better than the T- or X- series.
     
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    Jackson Fox said:
    "Although, based off the images you showed me, they share outward similarities to the Cythor Fiends. Their homeworlds are within the Ghoul Stars, though they were exterminated by the Black Templars chapter, last I recall."
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    Tide might be one of the few beings outside the Cythor Fiends that can use their tech unaugmented. Given that he also can break down into tiny forms.
    Jackson Fox said:
    It was simple, brutish even, with armor that would be of roughly the same protective value as carapace if they made it of mass producible materials. Sections of the exterior plating were missing, and Vidriov thought at first that it was a design flaw, as he could see the occupant of the armor, only to realize his mistake. That was not the occupant, but a secondary suit, a powered frame which the armor was added on top of. The frame provided the bulk of the power and strength, while the armor, easily removed and replaced, provided protection.

    The helmet was of an unusual design, very different from the Faux-Mjolnir and ODST gear Tide had used in the past. A pair of eye holes, covered by layers of bulletproof glass, wrapped in thick armor. Vidriov reached out with both hands and pulled it off, revealing there was no layer below. The helmet sealed itself to the frame and was easily returned.

    It's little more than a modified version of an old design I know of, but it suits our needs. I will give you everything I know of the types of armor that this one is based off of and provide whatever research and production materials you require. I do not want you to think that I expect these armors to rival the relics we currently possess. I only require they survive in the Wastes and are easy enough to produce to garb an army in them. We have nothing that can withstand this Wendigo creature on an individual level, so we shall not strive to face it individually, but with numbers on our side.

    "What is this new kind of armor called?" Vidriov wasn't sure if he'd asked the question or if Sathar had.

    I have been using 'powered frame' as the name of this new kind of armor. Further patterns will also be made, assuming this armor performs its task well. The first, however, shall be the Anchorage-pattern.
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    Fallout Power Armor says hello. If Tide can get it to at least to Mk. 1 Thunder pattern levels of output, then we are off to the races. Being able to field an army of Thunder Warriors minus the horrible biological breakdown would be one heck of a potent force.
    Jackson Fox said:
    Janiel had never found out, nor did he care to. But he did care about that perfume.

    It had been a scent beyond anything he had ever experienced before. Strong, yes, yet subtle. Sweet, cloying even, yet tantalizing. So different from the rot and exhaust of the lower hives, Janiel had gone to sleep each night after that smelling that perfect scent and having dreams of going and taking that noble lord's place.

    And then the perfume had run out and Janiel was back among the trash. It was that day, whether he knew it or not, that he had sworn himself to the Dark Prince as he swore he would do anything to regain those sensations.
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    Jokes on Janiel, he probably passed by tons of those perfume bottles murdering his way to the top, but was too corrupted to really enjoy them again.
    Jackson Fox said:
    Striding into the chamber was a tech-priest clad in a black cloak made of silks, purple and pink accents stitched along the length of the holy robes, forming sensuous patterns. He was clearly heavily augmented, but where the higher-ranks of the Mechanicus often preferred to depart heavily from the human form, this one seemed to have idealized his. Cords ran under masterfully sculpted metal, made in the form of musculature, with carefully placed coverings ensuring gaps only appeared when he moved. Even the many mechadendrites that so many Tech-Priests possessed were seemingly absent on this one. Covering their face, if they even had one under there, was a metal mask that Janiel was somewhat surprised to see his own features in. Had he stood still, Janiel could have easily thought the priest to be a statue wrought in his own likeness.
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    Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. It is something that will guarantee a Slanneshi cultist will at least think about not killing you for a moment.
    Jackson Fox said:
    "Then who are you?" Janiel demanded. His tone was no longer friendly.

    "I am nothing," The emissary repeated, but continued before Janiel could snarl a reply. "I bring news from beyond this world."

    "What are you blathering about?" Janiel hissed.

    "My master is another great servant of the Dark Prince," He said, as though barely hearing Janiel's words. "They reside now in orbit of this world."
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    Taking bets, who wants to guess this tech-priest is a Vashtorr cultist pretending to work for Slannesh?
    Jackson Fox said:
    "What do you ask for in return?"

    "Merely a tribute of souls, Great Lord. A paltry sum, truly."

    Janiel swallowed thickly, wondering if this deal was, perhaps, too good to be true. It was only then that the scent of the fog that clung to the tech-priest finally wafted over to him, cutting through the scent of the daemon engine. His nostrils flared as they breathed in the scent of a familiar perfume. When he answered, it was without reservation.

    "Deal."
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    You fool! You didn't specify whose soul you were giving him. Now he can take your soul while still adhering to the deal. That's demonic deals 101!
     
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    I wonder if it actually is a Slaneeshi Dark Mechanicum member, or if it's Vashtorr doing what he does best by playing all sides so he comes out on top.

    That being said, for the power armour, it sounds like it would be an X series power armour. The T series universally used slit lensed helmets except for the some what dubious T-65. Which, in my opinion, might actually be the prototype for the X-01 rather than a straight successor of the T-60.
     
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    Jackson Fox said:
    "The Ghoul Stars hold many monstrosities, scattered throughout time and space, which slip into the Materium where lines between realities have thinned," The tech-priest stated, as though that explained anything. "They are creatures from beyond both our realm and the realm of the gods."
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    I think this detail is being overlooked, as it implies there are other potential crossovers amongst the ghoul stars. Perhaps even our Wendigo is not of this Galaxy
     
    Arjac said:
    I think this detail is being overlooked, as it implies there are other potential crossovers amongst the ghoul stars. Perhaps even our Wendigo is not of this Galaxy
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    So...Tide could actually encounter some Weeping Angels. Or Borisin. Hmm, Abundence vs the Flood, now that would be an interesting fight. So would Propergation vs the Flood, but that's basically the Tyranids.
     
    Jackson Fox said:
    His voice caught in his throat at the sight of the monstrosity that now took up the bulk of the throne room, while the tech-priests metal face seemed to shift into a knowing smile. The smell of spilled oil and blood mixed with the perfumes, creating a tantalizing scent that burned his throat. He stared with horrified fascination at the whirring cogs, clanking limbs, and sensuous flesh that merged together to create the abomination in front of him. After what could have been minutes or hours of feeling countless emotions from terror, hope, dread, joy, and disgust, Janiel's attention fell to the tech-priest, though his eyes never left the perfectly horrible giant before him.
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    Tide will be extremely enraged when he discovers what they've done to a sample grown from captured flood. He will go berserk.
     
    Ambiguous on what the master is exactly... mayhaps a corrupted ai in service to the dark prince? Manufacturing demon engines with its heretek/heretic minions.
    Arimai said:
    Tide will be extremely enraged when he discovers what they've done to a sample grown from captured flood. He will go berserk.
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    I'm pretty sure its not flood grown, rather it is a daemon engine.

    Edit: sorry fixing double post
     
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