Curiosity, Ignorance, and the Mechanicus Walk Down a Hallway
- Location
- Australia
My first omake! It doesn't suck! I'm happy!
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++Thought for the Day: Revere the Omnissiah, for it is the source of all knowledge.++
Six individuals walked down the heavily fortified hallway leading towards Governor Rotbart's office.
One was a veteran disciple of the Machine God, venerated within his organisation for his many miraculous discoveries - Archmagos Explorator Tranth.
Slightly behind him were two walking war machines even more augmented for battle than Tranth, fellow adherents of the Cult Mechanicus who had dedicated their lives to the protection of their idol. These Myrmidons were designated C-177789 and P-20562, though they went by Craxis and Pathos when forced to communicate with outsiders. Tranth had several more Myrmidons charged with guarding his life, but by decree of the Governor's bodyguard, the maximum amount of firepower that could be brought into the same room as Governor Rotbart could not exceed more than a single regiment of PDF.
The fourth and fifth stayed further behind the small procession and were one of the few warriors on Avernus who could match their mechanical equivalents. Clad in the most advanced power armour and the most powerful infantry weapons known to mankind, these were members of the Governor's Own, charged with the protection of the sixth individual who now walked down this particular hall of the Gubernatorial Palace.
The sixth and final person, smaller than the others and with a mere lascarbine slung over her shoulder, was none other than the Governor's daughter - Syr Rotbart. She was walking right beside Archmagos Tranth and had been asking about the ships he'd recently found; what kinds of guns they might have, how fast they could move, how much damage they could take, and other such related matters. Eventually the subject turned to the ships' machine spirits.
"What do you imagine the machine spirits of the ships to be like?" Syr was making sure to speak like her mother taught her to do when talking to nobles. She wasn't sure if Tranth counted, but he was telling her a lot about the stuff he found, so the least she could do was be polite.
Tranth responded in the same synthesised voice that he communicated to everyone with. "Behaviour, capability, or both?"
"Capability, I gue- I suppose." Glad Mother wasn't around to hear that. "I heard that some machine spirits make their machines work more than what they should be able to. Would these ones be the same or would they be more like the AIs of old?"
Tranth for his part barely noticed the slip-up and continued on calmly. "Dependent on individual ships. Time, maintenance, and rituals a factor. Machine Spirits incomparable to Abominable Intelligence."
Syr was quite puzzled at that and momentarily forgot to use lingua nobilis. "Incomparable? Aren't they basically the same thing?"
Tranth stopped. The Myrmidons with him stopped. At this, Syr and her bodyguards also stopped. Within milliseconds, the Myrmidons began simultaneously running dozens of calculations. Chance of Target 1 being tainted. Capabilities of targets. Known capabilities of Tzeenchian sorceresses and counter-tactics. Reaction time of targets. Optimal positions to protect charge. Optimal firing solutions to maximise damage. Optimal extraction routes. Mean time to arrival of reinforcements. They showed no outward sign of anything changing and had yet to act on their calculations, but they were well prepared for whatever might happen.
The Governor's Own were themselves no mere novices and had guessed what the reaction of the Myrmidons would be to what Syr just said. Just as quickly, they were thinking of their battle strategy to protect their own charge and extract her from danger. This was assisted by the machine spirits of their armour taking data of the Myrmidons' weapons and armour to determine which of the two were the greatest immediate danger to Syr. The odds of a firefight breaking out where extremely low, but the Governor's Own never take any chances when it comes to protecting their lords.
Syr herself thought something was off, but attributed it to everyone being dumbstruck by how inane what she said apparently was. Her reddening face did not make the Myrmidons any less relaxed.
After he had finally gotten over the text string voxed by the young female and resumed his walk, he replied to her inquiry as completely as was possible within the time limit imposed by the speed of his movement and the distance that remained between him and the Governor's office, "No."
Exchanging farewells with Syr, Tranth and the Myrmidons presented their credentials to the Governor's Own manning the gatehouse and were let in without incident. Inside the office, the Governor of Avernus was busy allocating factory quotas to create more Basilisks over the next few years. Seeing the gate opened, he turned up to look at the inhuman conglomerations of metal and guns that had arrived. "Ah, Tranth, you wanted to see me about something? Please, take a seat."
He did so, and then began to speak. "Original intention to speak about obtaining apprentice. New intention takes priority. Subject Frederick Rotbart's female spawn - designation 'Syr' - lacks adequate knowledge of Machine Spirits. Current template equates holy Machine Spirits with Abominable Intelligence. Recommend correction of this deficiency."
On Governor Frederick's part, he was just confused. "Well, aren't they the same thing? Just that one likes humans and the other doesn't."
Every member of the Governor's Own present in the room was aware of the massive increase in temperature within the Myrmidons' heads as they overheated from all the calculations being made.
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++Thought for the Day: Revere the Omnissiah, for it is the source of all knowledge.++
Six individuals walked down the heavily fortified hallway leading towards Governor Rotbart's office.
One was a veteran disciple of the Machine God, venerated within his organisation for his many miraculous discoveries - Archmagos Explorator Tranth.
Slightly behind him were two walking war machines even more augmented for battle than Tranth, fellow adherents of the Cult Mechanicus who had dedicated their lives to the protection of their idol. These Myrmidons were designated C-177789 and P-20562, though they went by Craxis and Pathos when forced to communicate with outsiders. Tranth had several more Myrmidons charged with guarding his life, but by decree of the Governor's bodyguard, the maximum amount of firepower that could be brought into the same room as Governor Rotbart could not exceed more than a single regiment of PDF.
The fourth and fifth stayed further behind the small procession and were one of the few warriors on Avernus who could match their mechanical equivalents. Clad in the most advanced power armour and the most powerful infantry weapons known to mankind, these were members of the Governor's Own, charged with the protection of the sixth individual who now walked down this particular hall of the Gubernatorial Palace.
The sixth and final person, smaller than the others and with a mere lascarbine slung over her shoulder, was none other than the Governor's daughter - Syr Rotbart. She was walking right beside Archmagos Tranth and had been asking about the ships he'd recently found; what kinds of guns they might have, how fast they could move, how much damage they could take, and other such related matters. Eventually the subject turned to the ships' machine spirits.
"What do you imagine the machine spirits of the ships to be like?" Syr was making sure to speak like her mother taught her to do when talking to nobles. She wasn't sure if Tranth counted, but he was telling her a lot about the stuff he found, so the least she could do was be polite.
Tranth responded in the same synthesised voice that he communicated to everyone with. "Behaviour, capability, or both?"
"Capability, I gue- I suppose." Glad Mother wasn't around to hear that. "I heard that some machine spirits make their machines work more than what they should be able to. Would these ones be the same or would they be more like the AIs of old?"
Tranth for his part barely noticed the slip-up and continued on calmly. "Dependent on individual ships. Time, maintenance, and rituals a factor. Machine Spirits incomparable to Abominable Intelligence."
Syr was quite puzzled at that and momentarily forgot to use lingua nobilis. "Incomparable? Aren't they basically the same thing?"
Tranth stopped. The Myrmidons with him stopped. At this, Syr and her bodyguards also stopped. Within milliseconds, the Myrmidons began simultaneously running dozens of calculations. Chance of Target 1 being tainted. Capabilities of targets. Known capabilities of Tzeenchian sorceresses and counter-tactics. Reaction time of targets. Optimal positions to protect charge. Optimal firing solutions to maximise damage. Optimal extraction routes. Mean time to arrival of reinforcements. They showed no outward sign of anything changing and had yet to act on their calculations, but they were well prepared for whatever might happen.
The Governor's Own were themselves no mere novices and had guessed what the reaction of the Myrmidons would be to what Syr just said. Just as quickly, they were thinking of their battle strategy to protect their own charge and extract her from danger. This was assisted by the machine spirits of their armour taking data of the Myrmidons' weapons and armour to determine which of the two were the greatest immediate danger to Syr. The odds of a firefight breaking out where extremely low, but the Governor's Own never take any chances when it comes to protecting their lords.
Syr herself thought something was off, but attributed it to everyone being dumbstruck by how inane what she said apparently was. Her reddening face did not make the Myrmidons any less relaxed.
After he had finally gotten over the text string voxed by the young female and resumed his walk, he replied to her inquiry as completely as was possible within the time limit imposed by the speed of his movement and the distance that remained between him and the Governor's office, "No."
Exchanging farewells with Syr, Tranth and the Myrmidons presented their credentials to the Governor's Own manning the gatehouse and were let in without incident. Inside the office, the Governor of Avernus was busy allocating factory quotas to create more Basilisks over the next few years. Seeing the gate opened, he turned up to look at the inhuman conglomerations of metal and guns that had arrived. "Ah, Tranth, you wanted to see me about something? Please, take a seat."
He did so, and then began to speak. "Original intention to speak about obtaining apprentice. New intention takes priority. Subject Frederick Rotbart's female spawn - designation 'Syr' - lacks adequate knowledge of Machine Spirits. Current template equates holy Machine Spirits with Abominable Intelligence. Recommend correction of this deficiency."
On Governor Frederick's part, he was just confused. "Well, aren't they the same thing? Just that one likes humans and the other doesn't."
Every member of the Governor's Own present in the room was aware of the massive increase in temperature within the Myrmidons' heads as they overheated from all the calculations being made.
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Why Syr was asking about the ships' military capabilities:
Why Syr was asking anything at all:
Why they failed their knowledge checks:
How I knew about the the sensors in the Governor's Own's armour:
Why Syr has a weapon at her age:
Why Syr was asking anything at all:
Why they failed their knowledge checks:
How I knew about the the sensors in the Governor's Own's armour:
Why Syr has a weapon at her age:
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