Yeah he was making a point to Yarrick but Hades was also the battleground where the orks were halted in the second war so Ghazghkull did have a "Screw that!" attitude to the place after it defied him once, not so much because it was a tough fight but because it spoilt his fun and slowed down an overwise enjoyable romp around the world. Orks love getting into fights but stalemates can bore them or at least the warlords. And yeah after checking lexicanicum to refresh my terrible memory your right about the asteroids, I just hope Garkull doesn't make a statement of his own to Rotbart when the reinforcements arrive in force, tactical bombardment may be unorky but spitewrecking a continent is right up their lane.
So I'm planning on writing an omake about an ork minderz looking after a warphead (an ork weirdboy that actual enjoys using his power) possessed by a Slaanesh demon, which will result with him arguing with himself more than usual, who will headsplode causing a significant number ( aka whatever number Durin decides) of weirdboyz to also die. The only problems I have with my idea is I can think of good Orky names for the characters and I don't know what orks call slaanesh demons. So can anyone offer up some suggestions?
Yeah he was making a point to Yarrick but Hades was also the battleground where the orks were halted in the second war so Ghazghkull did have a "Screw that!" attitude to the place after it defied him once, not so much because it was a tough fight but because it spoilt his fun and slowed down an overwise enjoyable romp around the world. Orks love getting into fights but stalemates can bore them or at least the warlords. And yeah after checking lexicanicum to refresh my terrible memory your right about the asteroids, I just hope Garkull doesn't make a statement of his own to Rotbart when the reinforcements arrive in force, tactical bombardment may be unorky but spitewrecking a continent is right up their lane.
[X] Plan Weirdboyz Disruption
-[X] Have the Diviners figure out the best time to launch the remaining Deathstrikes, LEF Deathstrikes, and artillery at the Weirdboyz and coordinate the strike for maximum effectiveness. This should preferably be aimed at disrupting any ritual they are performing to batter down the next line of defense.
--[X] Have the Pyromancers enhance and control the resulting flames to increase the damage.
--[X] Have the Biomancers enhance the power of the Life Eater Fungus.
--[X] Have the Telepaths work to disrupt the coordination of the Ork ritual.
--[X] Have the Telekentics work to defend against the Ork ritual by strengthening the defenses if the ritual is not disrupted.
--[X] Have the Daemonologists work to sap power from the ritual.
[X] Plan Weirdboyz Disruption
-[X] Have the Diviners figure out the best time to launch the remaining Deathstrikes, LEF Deathstrikes, and artillery at the Weirdboyz and coordinate the strike for maximum effectiveness. This should preferably be aimed at disrupting any ritual they are performing to batter down the next line of defense.
--[X] Have the Pyromancers enhance and control the resulting flames to increase the damage.
--[X] Have the Biomancers enhance the power of the Life Eater Fungus.
--[X] Have the Telepaths work to disrupt the coordination of the Ork ritual.
--[X] Have the Telekentics work to defend against the Ork ritual by strengthening the defenses if the ritual is not disrupted.
--[X] Have the Daemonologists work to sap power from the ritual.
Been thinking, we have been told that Avernus will react violently to any attempt to irradiate an Avernus species. We have also been told that Avernus considers humans an Avernus species.
Just something to ponder.
[X] Plan Weirdboyz Disruption
-[X] Have the Diviners figure out the best time to launch the remaining Deathstrikes, LEF Deathstrikes, and artillery at the Weirdboyz and coordinate the strike for maximum effectiveness. This should preferably be aimed at disrupting any ritual they are performing to batter down the next line of defense.
--[X] Have the Pyromancers enhance and control the resulting flames to increase the damage.
--[X] Have the Biomancers enhance the power of the Life Eater Fungus.
--[X] Have the Telepaths work to disrupt the coordination of the Ork ritual.
--[X] Have the Telekentics work to defend against the Ork ritual by strengthening the defenses if the ritual is not disrupted.
--[X] Have the Daemonologists work to sap power from the ritual.
Right now we have no reason to change orders, and by and large the biggest worry is the Weirdboyz doing another ritual to smash down a line of defenses. This is doing pretty much the same thing as our pyskers did last time, but with the addition of an offensive disruption by using our remaining Deathstrikes and LEF Deathstrikes to disrupt instead of counterattack, as well as enhancing the damage using the Pyromancers and Biomancers.
@Durin - please let me know if there are any issues with this.
It should be added to the plan to pull back a large amount of the militia and regulars from the deeper part of the secondary defences behind the inner wall. We lost everyone on the outer wall to the ritual. So it should stand to reason that the orks will try again what had worked and we reposition our troops to migrate the damage.
Been thinking, we have been told that Avernus will react violently to any attempt to irradiate an Avernus species. We have also been told that Avernus considers humans an Avernus species.
Just something to ponder.
One of the people consider us a species and we were just told that the planet would react violently to Garkill trying to drop 2000+ roks on it, which isn't yet confirmation.
That being said if we're not on our way or considered such by the planet mind I would be slightly surprised.
One of the greatest things about playing such competent people and having such competent advisors is that we get warning when we're about to do something stupid.
It skipped from "I don't like you, I am incapable of liking you, I will never like you" to having a child with her. That is more than imagination can fill. A sequel is required.
~~~ WHighxEmbers: GAIDEN: HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER
Part 2: SEDUCTION BOOGALOO
~~~
"So then what happened?" asked Victoria, admiring Nona's hip-waist ratio. "Did you melt his iron heart?"
Nona giggled where Victoria poked somewhere sensitive. "Mmm, well. It may have ended well, but it didn't feel like it at the time."
~~~
Many years ago…
Nona bawled into her plushie servo-skull. On the top bunk, Decius was paging through his data-slate, a dendrite plucking tissues when the sobs became warbly with moisture.
"Fuck you, Tranth," he murmured, tapping the slate as his sister cried. "Fuck you, Tranth. Fuck you, Tranth."
"Waaaaaah," cried Nona in Tranth's defence.
Decius calmly patted her head with a pillow dendrite. "There, there. Nona, it's going to be okay."
"No it's not," wept Nona. "Everything's ruined forever."
"Dial back your serotonin and say that again."
The bed tilted as Nona climbed up the side, her hands digging into the aerofoam mattress. She stuck out her tongue at her brother, heedless of the red eyes and streaked makeup. "Everything sucks. Forever."
"It's not," said Decius. "You just got rejected by a robot in a meat can. Many thousands of people undergo this every day, and only a minor fraction of them receive permanent psychological damage."
Nona fumed, pouting. Then she bawled again, tears springing anew.
Her brother invoked several curses, before lifting her up and hugging her with all six of his arms. "Look at me, Nona," he said, holding her head. "It hurts now, yes. But let it pass over and through you, and when it is gone you will remain."
"You suck," sniffed Nona. "This sucks and you suck and Tranth sucks and I never want to see him ever again."
"You're already at anger," said Decius, who permitted himself a brief moment of optimism. "At this rate we'll be done by breakfast."
Nona wibbled. Then she pulled away, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm hungry," she moaned piteously. "Decius, make me a sandwich."
"Are you fucking kidding me."
"I only had a burger and fries, Decius. And then I had my heart broken. Make me a sandwich."
Decius made Nona a sandwich. As she sadly chewed through the wagyu grox strips with crisp lettuce on rye, Nona bemoaned, "I don't understand. How could he say no?"
Decius paused in the middle of setting up his slumber protocol. "You have… met Tranth, right?"
"Don't be a jerk, Decius," said Nona. "Tranth has feelings. He can feel annoyance, and anger, and probably other things. Why not love?"
"He probably broke it." Decius yawned as he dialled his circadian rhythm forward. "He doesn't even produce testosterone anymore. Any receptors have probably withered away."
Nona wilted. She always forgot that Decius had helped coordinate Tranth's conversion, because this let her conveniently fantasise. It had been her one hope, the mind of a genius under polyplastic skin and ceramantium skull, mostly unsullied by the robotics that would only impede it. Even if the rest of him was machine, that part was still a man's flesh.
Lousy homeostatic modulation. Love wasn't an imbalance, it was totally natural! When you were in love, the world was just that much brighter, and Nona had felt as bright as the stars. Was it so wrong to want to share that feeling with someone she loved?
Wait. She had an idea.
"What are you doing, Nona," said Decius from his bunk, sliding the curtain array around. "Nona, no."
"I'll show him what love is," said Nona, licking barbeque sauce from her lips. "Even if he's half plasteel and adamantium. Even if I have to inject the endorphins up his foramen magnum myself."
"Nona, no," said Decius patiently. "Any plan involving grievous cranial trauma is a bad plan."
"Nona, yes."
Decius considered this. Then he slid the curtain closed, lying back as the pneumatic seal hissed. "This is Tranth's problem now," said his muffled voice, before the hibernation jets filled his bed with silence.
~~~
"It wasn't actually that simple," said Nona. "Not even the densest neurotransmitter can penetrate his blood barrier. It would take a miracle to get through to him.
"So that's what I ordered."
~~~
Nona bowed. In front of her, the Omnissiah stared down sternly, and occasionally rubbed his eyes.
"My lord Omnissiah—" said Nona, face to the floor.
"IT'S ERIC BEFORE NINE," said the Omnissiah, his voice like the thunder of gears and the flame of plasma, his checking of the daily news feed magnanimous and swift. "NONA SAREN, 8749th OF SAREN CLADE. WHY HAVE YOU INVADED MY HOME?"
"I—"
"NO, NO, I'LL JUST READ YOUR PRAYERS." The Omnissiah leaned back on his sofa, perusing the celestial logs of the heavenly Eden, as was his right by rule of mankind. "YOU SEEK A METHOD BY WHICH TRANTH, 6982nd OF TRANTH CLADE, MAY EXPERIENCE WORLDLY LOVE IN DEFIANCE OF HIS CHOSEN PATH OF AUGMENTATION."
"Yes, great one."
The Omnissiah, mighty in wisdom and weighty in knowledge, drummed his fingers against the arm of the sofa. "AS THE FOREMOST ETHICAL AUTHORITY OF THIS REALM, I CANNOT CONDONE THE TAMPERING OF A MIND. HIS FLESH IS HIS CHOICE ALONE."
Nona sagged, a sad lump on the floor. The Omnissiah raised a hand. "HOWEVER, AS A DOCTOR OF PSYCHOLOGY, MY INTEREST IS PIQUED." He rubbed his chin, which was handsome. "A WAY TO RETURN THE DIAMETER OF PHYSIOLOGICAL STATES AVAILABLE TO A BRAIN, WHEN THE NECESSARY FEEDBACK AND ENDOCRINE CYCLES HAVE BEEN ALTERED OR REMOVED ENTIRE. YES. THIS SEEMS INTERESTING."
"You'll do it?" asked Nona.
"YES, NONA SAREN-8749. HOWEVER, THE REQUISITE TECHNOLOGIES OF NEURAL REFRACTION HAVE NOT BEEN RECOVERED, AND TO FABRICATE THEM WOULD DEMAND EXCESSIVE PRODUCTION RESOURCES. I MUST SHED THE FACE OF THE MACHINE GOD, AND WEAR THE FACE OF THE WITCH. IS THIS SATISFACTORY?"
"Uh," said Nona. "Yes, my lord."
"SUPERB," said the Omnissiah, before shedding his revenant shroud to be Eric Rotbart once more. "Now, a biomantic scan adjoined with a para-divinatory imposition should do the trick." He reached over to an end table, where a dish of wrapped candies had been set out for guests, and picked one up. He rolled it between his fingers, before laying it on top of Nona's bowed head. "This totem holds a pattern of my power, focused into a shell of caramel toffee. When the opportunity arises, consume the toffee, and the logoform will append to your soul and unfold to an active form. Then, make physical contact with your desired recipient, and they will experience those emotions one hopes for."
Nona snatched the candy from her head. "Thank you, my lord! Ten thousand blessings to you!"
"Ten thousand blessings to those who serve love, Nona Saren. Now go. I have cleaning up to do."
Nona fled, and Eric Rotbart picked up his dataslate. Little did she know, but when you're sixty thousand years old, you make your own entertainment.
~~~
"Drugs," breathed Victoria, eyes sparkling with delight. "Of course."
Tranth the Younger shuffled a bit further away.
~~~
"Sorry, Jenny," said Nona, as she performed a simultaneous memory-check fault/drive axle fracture on the gene splicer machine, "but this is for love."
The splicer smoked, beeping as it shut down. Nona placed a small votive tea candle on top, red wax melting into aerosolised prayer oil. No smoke here; only clean burning, one hundred percent naturally sourced benedictions to the Machine God, praise be to him for all eternity, amen!
She dialled the internal maintenance line. "Hello? This is Genetics and Biology Division."
"Yes, Miss Saren, we'll send Tranth over."
Nona huffed. "I could be calling for reasons that aren't repair-related."
"Are you?"
"Yes," said Nona, and failed to commit. "… Just send him over."
They sent him over. Nona had long since calculated the exact path Tranth would take, so when he stepped through the bulkhead she was already in her normal place, which was staring at Tranth unblinkingly.
Tranth nodded. "Nona."
Nona opened her mouth—
I don't love you, burned the memory.
--And closed it, her face suddenly hot. Tranth didn't care, wheeling himself under the splicer and sighing. "You did this three months ago," he said, already completing repairs, sliding out as Jenny turned itself on spontaneously. "Good machine spirit."
Jenny beeped.
"Um, Tranth," said Nona, and withered.
"Nona."
"Tranth, um, about last week…"
"Yes." Tranth blinked, once. "It has been made aware to me that I was unnecessarily callous. Though my state is of no fault but my own, your sympathy would compel you to feel anguish in my stead. So, thank you, Nona, but it is not needed."
Nona fidgeted, and popped the caramel toffee into her mouth. It melted on her tongue, sweet warmth trailing to her gut. "It's all good, Tranth." She smiled, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Tranth blinked, again. "Stop doing that."
Instead of not stopping, Nona leaned back, watching for any changes. But Tranth showed nothing, as stone-faced as actual stones. "Was there anything else?" he said, slightly annoyed.
It didn't work. Nona wilted. "No. You can go."
~~~
As Tranth made his way back to the central hub, a complex internal psychic mechanism was being grafted into his soul, the ingenuity and masterful craft of the greatest psyker in history invading his sanctum sanctorum. For clarity's sake, the restructuring of his noumenal architecture could be described as thus:
TRANTH-6982: Some sort of reactive defense field against further intrusions.
TRANTH-6982: Maybe a short burst of telekinetic force? Consider a sustained exothrust radius.
TRANTH-6982: Would negatively impact life quality. Interdiction field can be repurposed from ballistic interceptor protocols.
TRANTH-6982 has joined the chatroom.
TRANTH-6982: HOW ABOUT REDESIGNING YOUR CEREBRAL ARCHITECTURE FOR SIMULATED INFATUATION?
TRANTH-6982: An interesting hypothesis. Please elaborate.
TRANTH-6982: SEEMS FINE. ALL THE BITS ARE HERE. RECEPTORS, NEURONS, CRANIOMESH, PARACORTEX, QUANTUM SUBSTRATE. PRETTY BASIC, JUST ATROPHIED HORMONAL AND TRUNCATED PHYSIOLOGICAL FEEDBACK SYSTEMS.
TRANTH-6982: Please elaborate on your previous statement.
TRANTH-6982: INSTEAD OF THINKING ABOUT FORCEFIELDS, CONSIDER THIS.
TRANTH-6982: NONA SAREN. SHE'S VERY PRETTY, ISN'T SHE?
TRANTH-6982: Yes, but this is not relevant.
TRANTH-6982: SHINY HAIR. ROUND FACE. LOVELY HIPS. A SURFEIT OF PHYSICAL ASSETS.
TRANTH-6982: Mathematically above-average in all relevant assessments.
TRANTH-6982: This is still irrelevant. Either present worthy thought or leave.
TRANTH-6982: SCIENCE SCIENCE SCIENCE. MATH MATH MATH. TOASTERS.
TRANTH-6982: I see. Carry on.
TRANTH-6982: YOU'RE WELCOME. NOW, WHERE'S THE TRIGGER FOR AROUSAL?
TRANTH-6982: Physiological arousal? It's obsolete. The chassis no longer receives updates to the required firmware.
TRANTH-6982: SIGH. WELL, THE TISSUE ANALOGUES ARE STILL PRESENT. I GUESS I'LL JUST DO IT THE HARD WAY.
Tranth paused, as an erroneous signal was transmitted to increase internal blood pressure. He belayed it, but a second ping revealed a rise in heartrate.
His hands were perspiring. Never mind that there weren't any sweat glands in the nanomachine matrix; little beads of quicksilver exudate were being secreted from where his palms had been sculpted in black steel.
Tranth reclaimed the fluid, and stalked off in a mood. He'd have to run a debug; if he dissolved into a bloody pool of self-replicating liquid machinery, at least the next person to walk the build wouldn't be so unlucky.
"…And I said, 'Toaster? I don't even know her!'" There was a smattering of polite digital laughter as Tranth entered the central hub. "'Ey, it's Tranth! How was Miss Bubblegum?"
Tranth was about to brush it off as a repeated fault, but upon hearing Nona's epithet his mind conjured a cavalcade of lurid images.
"…Uh, Tranth? Buddy?"
"It went well," he ground out, moving to his booth to log the report. The tightness of Nona's robes around her waist was of no interest to him, thank you very much.
TRANTH-6982: JUST WHEN YOU GET PAST THAT CHEST.
TRANTH-6982: IT'S LIKE BOOM, LOOK AT THEM HIPS.
TRANTH-6982: This line of investigation yields little reward. Cease immediately.
TRANTH-6982 has booted TRANTH-6982 from the chatroom
TRANTH-6982: WHEN A GIRL WALKS IN WITH AN ITTY BITTY WAIST
TRANTH-6982: AND A ROUND THING IN YOUR FACE
TRANTH-6982: YOU
TRANTH-6982: GET
TRANTH-6982: SPRUNG
Tranth hissed. Various muscles tightened over his body, rigid and unmoveable as diamond nanotubing. His vision widened, expanding his field of view until he could see three hundred degrees of arc.
How? His irises had dilated to their full diameter. But they had long been replaced with spacetime lensing array for its molecular auspex, so what had previously been a sympathetic nervous response had been accommodated into various perceptual subconscious response trees, which were now triggering without his direction.
TRANTH-6982: What are you doing?
TRANTH-6982 has booted TRANTH-6982 from the chatroom
TRANTH-6982: VISION IMPAIRED WHEN YOU SEE HER DANCIN'
TRANTH-6982: TO HELL WITH THAT ROMANCIN'
TRANTH-6982: GOT A BUTT LIKE A BUBBLE
TRANTH-6982: HOURGLASS CURVES
TRANTH-6982: TAKE HER OUT FOR A RIDE
TRANTH-6982: GOBBLE HER D'OEUVRES
TRANTH-6982: IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN
"He's been staring at the cogitator for an hour."
Tranth screamed at the ceiling, to the surprise of his coworkers. He staggered from the hub, autobalancers malfunctioning as his skin steamed with superheated friction from the blood flush. His face burned, Nona's mark like a golden brand on his soul.
Wait. Wait.
Tranth scraped his face with the heel of his hand, getting the last of her saliva from his skin.
"Contact poison," he hissed.
~~~
Decius yawned as he prepared for his shift. Maybe it was the rest, but he had a feeling it was going to be a good day.
He opened the door, and Tranth was on the other side.
Well, he thought as the enginseer pushed into his apartment, that was fast.
"Decius!" growled Tranth, hand melting to the wall as he made his way to a chair. "Your sister has poisoned me! FIX IT."
Decius sighed. God damn it, Nona. "Go to the fucking medic, Tranth."
Tranth paused in his huffing breath to flip him off. Decius had to remind himself that he was technically the closest thing to a medic that Tranth had, and cursed himself. "Right. Well, first off, Tranth, you dumbass, you can't get poisoned."
"Present evidence would—" Tranth coughed, his head thumping against the table.
"Right. Right. But you can't. Soul-borne augmentations trump physical maladies every time. So unless you spliced out the genes, either Nona has found the most pathetic breed of Blink Spider, or you're fine."
"I. Am clearly not." Tranth burped, venting superheated steam.
Decius sighed. "Fine. Do you have… a sample?"
Tranth thrust out hand, a bubble of nanites unfolding to show a microscopic sample. Decius scraped it up with a brush, dropping it into Annie, his closet spectrometry analyser.
"Well?"
Annie beeped, and Decius looked at the readout. "Saliva and sugar."
"SUGAR!" screamed Tranth triumphantly, and also drunkenly. "What sweet thoughts are sung by a head so full of candy floss!"
"What the fuck is wrong with you," said Decius.
"That rosy-locked succubus!"
"It's literally just saccharides and oral bacteria." Decius slapped Tranth's head. "Also, don't call my sister a succubus."
Tranth slid off the table onto the floor, his head denting the nice tiles. "I'm dying, Decius. Goodbye. You were my greatest friend."
"I hate you so much more than I usually do," said Decius. This did not faze Tranth, who had fallen unconscious for the first time in four and a half years.
Decius contemplated the body on his floor, before dragging him to the sleep room, shoving him into Nona's bunk and leaving him curled up on her pillow. His work done, he swapped his shift at the lab with one of his many brothers. Hachiman would surely appreciate the extended hours.
He took a seat in their kitchen, his fingers sinking into the dataport. Hm, the Elysium Executioners were leading 17-8 on the Lindon Lancers.
The door slid open, admitting a morose Nona fresh from her lab. She put her backpack in the cubbyhole, going to the fridge and grabbing a tub of STC ice cream.
"Bad day?" said Decius.
"I'm going to cry in my underwear," said Nona, pulling at her robes. "Don't bother me." She grabbed a spoon, sticking it in her mouth as she bumped the door open with her hip.
As the door shut, Decius counted in his head.
The door slammed back open, Nona wide-eyed and biting the spoon, half her robes slipping off. She frantically gestured at Decius, then back at the room, demanding an explanation.
"Surprise," said Decius flatly. "I got you a present."
Nona pulled the spoon from her mouth. "What is he doing here?" she whisper-shrieked.
Decius steepled his fingers. "I think the real question is, 'what did my foolish sister Nona dose him with?' Don't you agree?"
"I— I—" Nona coughed, drawing herself up with as much dignity as she could with a tub of ice cream in one hand. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"He said you slipped him tongue."
"It was just on the cheek!" Nona blanched. "Crap."
Decius leaned forward. "Nona."
His sister shrunk.
"Nona."
"It was just a little spell," she said quietly.
"Who wove it?"
"…Mr Rotbart."
Decius stared. It was a good stare, one he had spent many genetic tweaks perfecting. "You got the Omnissiah to make you a love spell."
"No!" Nona fidgeted. "It didn't even work."
"That," said Decius, "would be a matter of opinion. In some ways, I am certain it works perfectly." He rummaged through the closet, eventually coming up with a cube of orichalcum anchored at the corners with plasteel tabs. Hooking it onto a telescopic frame, he pulled at each tab, the cube flattening, stretching out into a rippling plane of gold, simultaneously a perfectly smooth surface and a tapestry woven with countless infinitesimal wires.
This was an orichalcum dreamcatcher, derived from the horcruciatic soul-catcher. One merely unfocused their eyes, and allowed the gentle tsunami of random visual noise to reflect the unperceivable, far safer than opening one's third eye directly to the warp. In the ships of Helheim's arsenal, great sinuous ropes of orichalcum were enchanted in this way, caged within navigational observatories to record all the emanations of the warp that were seen in their curves.
But for a soul, this was enough. Decius went over to the bunk, and lifted the dreamcatcher in front of Tranth. "Now, let's see—"
He stared. Then lifted the dreamcatcher higher. And higher, craning his neck to the ceiling.
TRANTH-6982: MY ANACONDA DON'T WANT NONE UNLESS oh hey you're not meant to be seeing this.
TRANTH-6982: Shoo.
Decius screamed in a manly way as his eyes burst in a flare of blood and smoke.
"Decius!" shouted Nona.
He waved his sister off. Already the burns had scabbed over, his enhanced solenoids pumping a regenerative mix to crust over his eyes. Truly, the Omnissiah was inscrutable in his ways.
Could have left his face alone, though. Yes, regrowing eyes was trivial, but it was the principle of the matter. The principle being don't poke out people's eyes.
Tranth stirred from his slumber, sniffing and smacking his lips. "Oh, hello there, Sarens." He rolled upright, stretching and yawning. Actually yawning, with exhaled breath and everything. "Do you have anything to eat? I'm feeling peckish, and if I don't eat something I fear I may just wither away."
Decius tried to fit 'Tranth' and 'standard biological necessities' into the same world. Nona, who had entertained such fantasies for an embarrassing duration of her life, was quicker on the ball and thrust out her erstwhile treat. "We have ice cream!"
"Thank you, Nona." Tranth took the tub. "Might I trouble you for the spoon?"
Nona, incandescent, stiffly held out the spoon. Tranth started scooping ice cream into his gaping maw.
"What the fuck is wrong with you," said Decius, peeling the fibrous callus from his brand-new eyes and eating it to reclaim the nutrients.
"Decius, my friend! I feel quite well, and I thank you for your concern."
Decius threw up his hands. "This shit is way beyond me. We're taking you to a real doctor."
~~~
"Welcome back, Miss Saren," said the Omnissiah, stamping some documents. "And guests! How can I help you today?"
Nona bowed. "Um, my lord—"
"It's past nine, so Regent Rotbart will do fine." He flicked the papers in his hand, teleporting them away. "Now then, I assume you wish to reverse Mr Tranth's unfortunate predicament."
"Yes," said Decius, with Tranth in a headlock. This normally would have never happened, except this Tranth didn't seem to know how to use his limbs as anything other than limbs, and on that count Decius outnumbered him.
"No!" squeaked Nona.
Decius glared. "Yes."
"Do I have no say in this?" asked Tranth with genuine curiosity.
"You don't fucking count, you're mentally impaired and your judgement is compromised."
"Well!" Tranth huffed. "See if you get a molecular spinner for Emperor's Day."
"You are being kind of rude," added Nona.
"Ruder than poisoning him?" retorted Decius, in case Nona had forgotten. Nona didn't reply.
"Actually," said the Omnissiah, "he's perfectly sound of mind and physical health."
"Hah! See?"
"You be quiet," said Decius.
"Sounder, even. The spellwork was designed to predict the most socially adept version of him as a template for imposition." The Omnissiah reached into a drawer, popping open a bottle of ruby liquid and filling a hallowed shot glass. "The Tranth-6982 in your hands is the most psychologically stable, socially unchallenged, human interaction capable Tranth-6982 to possibly exist."
Decius dropped Tranth onto the floor like he was a bomb. "He's possessed?"
"In the same way an actor channels the role. This is your friend, if he had turned his supreme intellect to improving himself in the spiritual way, rather than the physical. A ghost of himself from a different world." The Omnissiah threw back a shot. "Morally spiritual, not psychically spiritual."
"Ow," said Tranth. "That hurts, my lord."
Decius raised an eyebrow, not saying 'is this the best alternate universe Tranth could do,' but certainly thinking it. "And this is what came to mind when my sister asked for a love spell."
"Love is a state of mind," said the Omnissiah. "Loving, and being loved. One must appreciate the passive role as well as the active." He poured another glass and sculled it down. "Also, he's a virgin."
"STOP," said Decius.
"I could hear a little more," said Nona, who was going in the time-out corner.
"TOO MUCH INFORMATION," Decius continued.
"Yes, that doesn't seem right at all," said Tranth, who was definitely going in a different corner. He sat up and ran his hands over his synthetic biceps, tensing and relaxing them. "I'm not saying I'm irresistible, but I definitely have some advantages going for me. Plus, I'm a master chef."
Decius reached out, closing his sister's jaw. "Master chef or not, you can't keep him like this."
Nona fretted. "But," she said, and waved at Tranth, as if that explained everything.
"Yes, you could," said the Omnissiah, taking another drink.
"No," said Decius, "because if Tranth likes you he has to like you by himself, not with a sixty-foot psychic pylon jammed into his head that turns him into his good clone. Also, manipulating minds is wrong and bad. Also also, he's not your mind to keep."
"Or you could leave him like this," said the Omnissiah, who was not helping.
"If I may interrupt?" said Tranth. "I'm sure I like Nona whether or not I am the version of myself you are accustomed to."
"Oh for fuck's sake," cursed Decius. "If you're lying right now I will punch your skull out of your spine."
Nona's eyes were as wide as dinner plates.
"I don't see any reason why not," Tranth continued, turning to Nona. "Even if the particular pattern of this mind is suited for mechanical engineering rather than social, I still hold you in high esteem, and would not be averse to a relationship with you. I can't imagine any possible self that does not and can still be identified with myself."
"But you said you didn't love me!" said Nona. "You said you'd never love me, ever!"
"What, really?" Tranth scratched his head. "That doesn't sound right. I'd have to be some kind of idiot. I mean--" He held his hands out at Nona, as if that explained everything. "Surely not."
Nona was quiet. The Omnissiah took another drink.
"You were micromanaging your own brain into an optimised intelligence engine," said Decius. "In fairness, you seemed like you knew what you were doing."
Tranth looked horrified, which was an expression his face had never made before. "You can't do that! Enacting conscious control over your own impulses stagnates mental verve. You just spiral and spiral until you hit a plateau of self-righteous apathy."
"Yes, that sounds about right."
"Eurgh. How was he expecting to pass the peer review? Or the ethics committee?"
Decius blinked. "The what?"
"The— surely his methodology had to be reviewed by other experts specifically to prevent this sort of mental derangement. The possible scientific gains cannot be worth it when weighed against the integrity of a human mind."
Decius turned to the Omnissiah. "My lord, where exactly did you get this Tranth?"
"He's not real," said the Omnissiah. "Poetry aside, I didn't pluck a ghost from some future-that-never-was. He's just a virtual machine executable."
The enginseer scowled. "Well, that's horrible. I give you my full permission to unmake whatever mechanism prevents him from emotional compromise. Prevents me from emotional compromise. Serves me right."
The Omnissiah pulled out several parchments and a dataslate. "Please fill out this form and submit to your nearest Administratum office, and the nearest accredited Totemist will be with you shortly to troubleshoot your implants."
~~~
While Tranth was busy writing out the forms, Nona sat next to him. "Um," she said. "Sorry. For drugging you into becoming a normal human."
"'Sorry for drugging you to satisfy my uncontrollable lusts,' you mean." said Tranth. He didn't seem to have the grasp of his nanite fingers, physically signing the papers instead of interfacing with the dataslate. "I'm not the Tranth you should be apologising to. Although I doubt that version of myself will care, so apology accepted."
"I'll have you know I control my lusts very well, thank you."
"You're welcome."
Such a smooth reaction! Nona pouted, then pretended she hadn't. "Won't you be mad you undid it?"
"The neurostabiliser isn't meant for prolonged use; any illusions of control are false gains as immediate willpower atrophies from lack of challenge. True control is gained from constant management of emotions and the development of coping techniques, not by stifling them at the root. This Tranth will deserve everything he gets." Tranth signed the last form with a flourish. "I don't really exist, so I won't suffer the consequences. Hahahah!" He cackled.
Oh no, thought Nona, why does this make him even hotter.
Tranth stacked the papers together, and handed them to the Omnissiah, who was picking at a boxed lunch. The papers filed in midair, stamping and submitting themselves into the appropriate folders. When the last file was sorted, the Omnissiah sat up, swallowing a slice of fried pork katsu. "Everything seems to be sorted," he said. "Your tech-psyker will be with you shortly."
He slid back in his spinny-throne, and spun once, before scooting back to the desk. "Hello, I am your assigned Totemist. I see here you've come in for a mental realignment."
"Yes," said Tranth. "Is this rigmarole necessary?"
The Omnissiah stared at him. "I am smarter than you."
"Fair enough."
The Omnissiah clicked his fingers, and Tranth fainted, crumpling into a posthuman pile on the floor. "All done."
TRANTH-6982: SEE YOU SPACE COWBOY
TRANTH-6982: YOU'RE GONNA CARRY THAT WEIGHT
TRANTH-6982 has left the chatroom
TRANTH-6982 has joined the chatroom
TRANTH-6982: What the fuck.
The pile groaned. "What time is it?"
"Five in the afternoon," said the Omnissiah.
Tranth groaned. "I had things I was going to do today. Fucking hell."
"Are you alright?" asked Nona. "How do you feel?"
Tranth looked at Nona, before reaching out to her face. Then he pushed her head to the side to look at Decius. "Why are we in the office of the Omnissiah, Decius?"
"Nona knocked you out with a kiss and we got no work done today."
Tranth groaned louder, sitting up and stretching, his hands beeping as he recalibrated. "I'm hungry. Why am I hungry?"
"Maybe we can get dinner," said Nona.
Tranth looked at Nona, who restrained her smile and mostly failed. "I could murder a curry," he admitted.
"Yay!" Nona hugged him. "I'll treat!"
"Yay," said Decius.
"Out," said the Omnissiah, and his loyal servants obeyed.
~~~
"And that worked?" asked Victoria.
Nona waved a hand over herself, which explained everything. Victoria nodded sagely. In the corner, Tranth the Elder simmered like an angry soup.
"Suck it up, old man," said Tranth the Younger. "It's been thirty years."
"Do you know how much work I could get done without these urges?" Tranth the Elder prepared himself for a long-worn rant. "So many advances in the knowledge of mankind, lost like tears in the rain."
"When you have to make love to your beautiful wife in your STC house with your infinite cornucopia matter-spinner in the silver age of humanity."
"Let me have this."
Tranth-7449 sighed.
~~~
AN: On second thought, let's not contemplate techpriest romances. 'Tis a silly thing.
~~~ WHighxEmbers: GAIDEN: HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER
Part 2: SEDUCTION BOOGALOO
~~~
"So then what happened?" asked Victoria, admiring Nona's hip-waist ratio. "Did you melt his iron heart?"
Nona giggled where Victoria poked somewhere sensitive. "Mmm, well. It may have ended well, but it didn't feel like it at the time."
~~~
Many years ago…
Nona bawled into her plushie servo-skull. On the top bunk, Decius was paging through his data-slate, a dendrite plucking tissues when the sobs became warbly with moisture.
"Fuck you, Tranth," he murmured, tapping the slate as his sister cried. "Fuck you, Tranth. Fuck you, Tranth."
"Waaaaaah," cried Nona in Tranth's defence.
Decius calmly patted her head with a pillow dendrite. "There, there. Nona, it's going to be okay."
"No it's not," wept Nona. "Everything's ruined forever."
"Dial back your serotonin and say that again."
The bed tilted as Nona climbed up the side, her hands digging into the aerofoam mattress. She stuck out her tongue at her brother, heedless of the red eyes and streaked makeup. "Everything sucks. Forever."
"It's not," said Decius. "You just got rejected by a robot in a meat can. Many thousands of people undergo this every day, and only a minor fraction of them receive permanent psychological damage."
Nona fumed, pouting. Then she bawled again, tears springing anew.
Her brother invoked several curses, before lifting her up and hugging her with all six of his arms. "Look at me, Nona," he said, holding her head. "It hurts now, yes. But let it pass over and through you, and when it is gone you will remain."
"You suck," sniffed Nona. "This sucks and you suck and Tranth sucks and I never want to see him ever again."
"You're already at anger," said Decius, who permitted himself a brief moment of optimism. "At this rate we'll be done by breakfast."
Nona wibbled. Then she pulled away, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm hungry," she moaned piteously. "Decius, make me a sandwich."
"Are you fucking kidding me."
"I only had a burger and fries, Decius. And then I had my heart broken. Make me a sandwich."
Decius made Nona a sandwich. As she sadly chewed through the wagyu grox strips with crisp lettuce on rye, Nona bemoaned, "I don't understand. How could he say no?"
Decius paused in the middle of setting up his slumber protocol. "You have… met Tranth, right?"
"Don't be a jerk, Decius," said Nona. "Tranth has feelings. He can feel annoyance, and anger, and probably other things. Why not love?"
"He probably broke it." Decius yawned as he dialled his circadian rhythm forward. "He doesn't even produce testosterone anymore. Any receptors have probably withered away."
Nona wilted. She always forgot that Decius had helped coordinate Tranth's conversion, because this let her conveniently fantasise. It had been her one hope, the mind of a genius under polyplastic skin and ceramantium skull, mostly unsullied by the robotics that would only impede it. Even if the rest of him was machine, that part was still a man's flesh.
Lousy homeostatic modulation. Love wasn't an imbalance, it was totally natural! When you were in love, the world was just that much brighter, and Nona had felt as bright as the stars. Was it so wrong to want to share that feeling with someone she loved?
Wait. She had an idea.
"What are you doing, Nona," said Decius from his bunk, sliding the curtain array around. "Nona, no."
"I'll show him what love is," said Nona, licking barbeque sauce from her lips. "Even if he's half plasteel and adamantium. Even if I have to inject the endorphins up his foramen magnum myself."
"Nona, no," said Decius patiently. "Any plan involving grievous cranial trauma is a bad plan."
"Nona, yes."
Decius considered this. Then he slid the curtain closed, lying back as the pneumatic seal hissed. "This is Tranth's problem now," said his muffled voice, before the hibernation jets filled his bed with silence.
~~~
"It wasn't actually that simple," said Nona. "Not even the densest neurotransmitter can penetrate his blood barrier. It would take a miracle to get through to him.
"So that's what I ordered."
~~~
Nona bowed. In front of her, the Omnissiah stared down sternly, and occasionally rubbed his eyes.
"My lord Omnissiah—" said Nona, face to the floor.
"IT'S ERIC BEFORE NINE," said the Omnissiah, his voice like the thunder of gears and the flame of plasma, his checking of the daily news feed magnanimous and swift. "NONA SAREN, 8749th OF SAREN CLADE. WHY HAVE YOU INVADED MY HOME?"
"I—"
"NO, NO, I'LL JUST READ YOUR PRAYERS." The Omnissiah leaned back on his sofa, perusing the celestial logs of the heavenly Eden, as was his right by rule of mankind. "YOU SEEK A METHOD BY WHICH TRANTH, 6982nd OF TRANTH CLADE, MAY EXPERIENCE WORLDLY LOVE IN DEFIANCE OF HIS CHOSEN PATH OF AUGMENTATION."
"Yes, great one."
The Omnissiah, mighty in wisdom and weighty in knowledge, drummed his fingers against the arm of the sofa. "AS THE FOREMOST ETHICAL AUTHORITY OF THIS REALM, I CANNOT CONDONE THE TAMPERING OF A MIND. HIS FLESH IS HIS CHOICE ALONE."
Nona sagged, a sad lump on the floor. The Omnissiah raised a hand. "HOWEVER, AS A DOCTOR OF PSYCHOLOGY, MY INTEREST IS PIQUED." He rubbed his chin, which was handsome. "A WAY TO RETURN THE DIAMETER OF PHYSIOLOGICAL STATES AVAILABLE TO A BRAIN, WHEN THE NECESSARY FEEDBACK AND ENDOCRINE CYCLES HAVE BEEN ALTERED OR REMOVED ENTIRE. YES. THIS SEEMS INTERESTING."
"You'll do it?" asked Nona.
"YES, NONA SAREN-8749. HOWEVER, THE REQUISITE TECHNOLOGIES OF NEURAL REFRACTION HAVE NOT BEEN RECOVERED, AND TO FABRICATE THEM WOULD DEMAND EXCESSIVE PRODUCTION RESOURCES. I MUST SHED THE FACE OF THE MACHINE GOD, AND WEAR THE FACE OF THE WITCH. IS THIS SATISFACTORY?"
"Uh," said Nona. "Yes, my lord."
"SUPERB," said the Omnissiah, before shedding his revenant shroud to be Eric Rotbart once more. "Now, a biomantic scan adjoined with a para-divinatory imposition should do the trick." He reached over to an end table, where a dish of wrapped candies had been set out for guests, and picked one up. He rolled it between his fingers, before laying it on top of Nona's bowed head. "This totem holds a pattern of my power, focused into a shell of caramel toffee. When the opportunity arises, consume the toffee, and the logoform will append to your soul and unfold to an active form. Then, make physical contact with your desired recipient, and they will experience those emotions one hopes for."
Nona snatched the candy from her head. "Thank you, my lord! Ten thousand blessings to you!"
"Ten thousand blessings to those who serve love, Nona Saren. Now go. I have cleaning up to do."
Nona fled, and Eric Rotbart picked up his dataslate. Little did she know, but when you're sixty thousand years old, you make your own entertainment.
~~~
"Drugs," breathed Victoria, eyes sparkling with delight. "Of course."
Tranth the Younger shuffled a bit further away.
~~~
"Sorry, Jenny," said Nona, as she performed a simultaneous memory-check fault/drive axle fracture on the gene splicer machine, "but this is for love."
The splicer smoked, beeping as it shut down. Nona placed a small votive tea candle on top, red wax melting into aerosolised prayer oil. No smoke here; only clean burning, one hundred percent naturally sourced benedictions to the Machine God, praise be to him for all eternity, amen!
She dialled the internal maintenance line. "Hello? This is Genetics and Biology Division."
"Yes, Miss Saren, we'll send Tranth over."
Nona huffed. "I could be calling for reasons that aren't repair-related."
"Are you?"
"Yes," said Nona, and failed to commit. "… Just send him over."
They sent him over. Nona had long since calculated the exact path Tranth would take, so when he stepped through the bulkhead she was already in her normal place, which was staring at Tranth unblinkingly.
Tranth nodded. "Nona."
Nona opened her mouth—
I don't love you, burned the memory.
--And closed it, her face suddenly hot. Tranth didn't care, wheeling himself under the splicer and sighing. "You did this three months ago," he said, already completing repairs, sliding out as Jenny turned itself on spontaneously. "Good machine spirit."
Jenny beeped.
"Um, Tranth," said Nona, and withered.
"Nona."
"Tranth, um, about last week…"
"Yes." Tranth blinked, once. "It has been made aware to me that I was unnecessarily callous. Though my state is of no fault but my own, your sympathy would compel you to feel anguish in my stead. So, thank you, Nona, but it is not needed."
Nona fidgeted, and popped the caramel toffee into her mouth. It melted on her tongue, sweet warmth trailing to her gut. "It's all good, Tranth." She smiled, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Tranth blinked, again. "Stop doing that."
Instead of not stopping, Nona leaned back, watching for any changes. But Tranth showed nothing, as stone-faced as actual stones. "Was there anything else?" he said, slightly annoyed.
It didn't work. Nona wilted. "No. You can go."
~~~
As Tranth made his way back to the central hub, a complex internal psychic mechanism was being grafted into his soul, the ingenuity and masterful craft of the greatest psyker in history invading his sanctum sanctorum. For clarity's sake, the restructuring of his noumenal architecture could be described as thus:
TRANTH-6982: Some sort of reactive defense field against further intrusions.
TRANTH-6982: Maybe a short burst of telekinetic force? Consider a sustained exothrust radius.
TRANTH-6982: Would negatively impact life quality. Interdiction field can be repurposed from ballistic interceptor protocols.
TRANTH-6982 has joined the chatroom.
TRANTH-6982: HOW ABOUT REDESIGNING YOUR CEREBRAL ARCHITECTURE FOR SIMULATED INFATUATION?
TRANTH-6982: An interesting hypothesis. Please elaborate.
TRANTH-6982: SEEMS FINE. ALL THE BITS ARE HERE. RECEPTORS, NEURONS, CRANIOMESH, PARACORTEX, QUANTUM SUBSTRATE. PRETTY BASIC, JUST ATROPHIED HORMONAL AND TRUNCATED PHYSIOLOGICAL FEEDBACK SYSTEMS.
TRANTH-6982: Please elaborate on your previous statement.
TRANTH-6982: INSTEAD OF THINKING ABOUT FORCEFIELDS, CONSIDER THIS.
TRANTH-6982: NONA SAREN. SHE'S VERY PRETTY, ISN'T SHE?
TRANTH-6982: Yes, but this is not relevant.
TRANTH-6982: SHINY HAIR. ROUND FACE. LOVELY HIPS. A SURFEIT OF PHYSICAL ASSETS.
TRANTH-6982: Mathematically above-average in all relevant assessments.
TRANTH-6982: This is still irrelevant. Either present worthy thought or leave.
TRANTH-6982: SCIENCE SCIENCE SCIENCE. MATH MATH MATH. TOASTERS.
TRANTH-6982: I see. Carry on.
TRANTH-6982: YOU'RE WELCOME. NOW, WHERE'S THE TRIGGER FOR AROUSAL?
TRANTH-6982: Physiological arousal? It's obsolete. The chassis no longer receives updates to the required firmware.
TRANTH-6982: SIGH. WELL, THE TISSUE ANALOGUES ARE STILL PRESENT. I GUESS I'LL JUST DO IT THE HARD WAY.
Tranth paused, as an erroneous signal was transmitted to increase internal blood pressure. He belayed it, but a second ping revealed a rise in heartrate.
His hands were perspiring. Never mind that there weren't any sweat glands in the nanomachine matrix; little beads of quicksilver exudate were being secreted from where his palms had been sculpted in black steel.
Tranth reclaimed the fluid, and stalked off in a mood. He'd have to run a debug; if he dissolved into a bloody pool of self-replicating liquid machinery, at least the next person to walk the build wouldn't be so unlucky.
"…And I said, 'Toaster? I don't even know her!'" There was a smattering of polite digital laughter as Tranth entered the central hub. "'Ey, it's Tranth! How was Miss Bubblegum?"
Tranth was about to brush it off as a repeated fault, but upon hearing Nona's epithet his mind conjured a cavalcade of lurid images.
"…Uh, Tranth? Buddy?"
"It went well," he ground out, moving to his booth to log the report. The tightness of Nona's robes around her waist was of no interest to him, thank you very much.
TRANTH-6982: JUST WHEN YOU GET PAST THAT CHEST.
TRANTH-6982: IT'S LIKE BOOM, LOOK AT THEM HIPS.
TRANTH-6982: This line of investigation yields little reward. Cease immediately.
TRANTH-6982 has booted TRANTH-6982 from the chatroom
TRANTH-6982: WHEN A GIRL WALKS IN WITH AN ITTY BITTY WAIST
TRANTH-6982: AND A ROUND THING IN YOUR FACE
TRANTH-6982: YOU
TRANTH-6982: GET
TRANTH-6982: SPRUNG
Tranth hissed. Various muscles tightened over his body, rigid and unmoveable as diamond nanotubing. His vision widened, expanding his field of view until he could see three hundred degrees of arc.
How? His irises had dilated to their full diameter. But they had long been replaced with spacetime lensing array for its molecular auspex, so what had previously been a sympathetic nervous respone had been accommodated into various perceptual subconscious response trees, which were now triggering without his direction.
TRANTH-6982: What are you doing?
TRANTH-6982 has booted TRANTH-6982 from the chatroom
TRANTH-6982: VISION IMPAIRED WHEN YOU SEE HER DANCIN'
TRANTH-6982: TO HELL WITH THAT ROMANCIN'
TRANTH-6982: GOT A BUTT LIKE A BUBBLE
TRANTH-6982: HOURGLASS CURVES
TRANTH-6982: TAKE HER OUT FOR A RIDE
TRANTH-6982: GOBBLE HER D'OEUVRES
TRANTH-6982: IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN
"He's been staring at the cogitator for an hour."
Tranth screamed at the ceiling, to the surprise of his coworkers. He staggered from the hub, autobalancers malfunctioning as his skin steamed with superheated friction from the blood flush. His face burned, Nona's mark like a golden brand on his soul.
Wait. Wait.
Tranth scraped his face with the heel of his hand, getting the last of her saliva from his skin.
"Contact poison," he hissed.
~~~
Decius yawned as he prepared for his shift. Maybe it was the rest, but he had a feeling it was going to be a good day.
He opened the door, and Tranth was on the other side.
Well, he thought as the enginseer pushed into his apartment, that was fast.
"Decius!" growled Tranth, hand melting to the wall as he made his way to a chair. "Your sister has poisoned me! FIX IT."
Decius sighed. God damn it, Nona. "Go to the fucking medic, Tranth."
Tranth paused in his huffing breath to flip him off. Decius had to remind himself that he was technically the closest thing to a medic that Tranth had, and cursed himself. "Right. Well, first off, Tranth, you dumbass, you can't get poisoned."
"Present evidence would—" Tranth coughed, his head thumping against the table.
"Right. Right. But you can't. Soul-borne augmentations trump physical maladies every time. So unless you spliced out the genes, either Nona has found the most pathetic breed of Blink Spider, or you're fine."
"I. Am clearly not." Tranth burped, venting superheated steam.
Decius sighed. "Fine. Do you have… a sample?"
Tranth thrust out hand, a bubble of nanites unfolding to show a microscopic sample. Decius scraped it up with a brush, dropping it into Annie, his closet spectrometry analyser.
"Well?"
Annie beeped, and Decius looked at the readout. "Saliva and sugar."
"SUGAR!" screamed Tranth triumphantly, and also drunkenly. "What sweet thoughts are sung by a head so full of candy floss!"
"What the fuck is wrong with you," said Decius.
"That rosy-locked succubus!"
"It's literally just saccharides and oral bacteria." Decius slapped Tranth's head. "Also, don't call my sister a succubus."
Tranth slid off the table onto the floor, his head denting the nice tiles. "I'm dying, Decius. Goodbye. You were my greatest friend."
"I hate you so much more than I usually do," said Decius. This did not faze Tranth, who had fallen unconscious for the first time in four and a half years.
Decius contemplated the body on his floor, before dragging him to the sleep room, shoving him into Nona's bunk and leaving him curled up on her pillow. His work done, he swapped his shift at the lab with one of his many brothers. Hachiman would surely appreciate the extended hours.
He took a seat in their kitchen, his fingers sinking into the dataport. Hm, the Elysium Executioners were leading 17-8 on the Lindon Lancers.
The door slid open, admitting a morose Nona fresh from her lab. She put her backpack in the cubbyhole, going to the fridge and grabbing a tub of STC ice cream.
"Bad day?" said Decius.
"I'm going to cry in my underwear," said Nona, pulling at her robes. "Don't bother me." She grabbed a spoon, sticking it in her mouth as she bumped the door open with her hip.
As the door shut, Decius counted in his head.
The door slammed back open, Nona wide-eyed and biting the spoon, half her robes slipping off. She frantically gestured at Decius, then back at the room, demanding an explanation.
"Surprise," said Decius flatly. "I got you a present."
Nona pulled the spoon from her mouth. "What is he doing here?" she whisper-shrieked.
Decius steepled his fingers. "I think the real question is, 'what did my foolish sister Nona dose him with?' Don't you agree?"
"I— I—" Nona coughed, drawing herself up with as much dignity as she could with a tub of ice cream in one hand. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"He said you slipped him tongue."
"It was just on the cheek!" Nona blanched. "Crap."
Decius leaned forward. "Nona."
His sister shrunk.
"Nona."
"It was just a little spell," she said quietly.
"Who wove it?"
"…Mr Rotbart."
Decius stared. It was a good stare, one he had spent many genetic tweaks perfecting. "You got the Omnissiah to make you a love spell."
"No!" Nona fidgeted. "It didn't even work."
"That," said Decius, "would be a matter of opinion. In some ways, I am certain it works perfectly." He rummaged through the closet, eventually coming up with a cube of orichalcum anchored at the corners with plasteel tabs. Hooking it onto a telescopic frame, he pulled at each tab, the cube flattening, stretching out into a rippling plane of gold, simultaneously a perfectly smooth surface and a tapestry woven with countless infinitesimal wires.
This was an orichalcum dreamcatcher, derived from the horcruciatic soul-catcher. One merely unfocused their eyes, and allowed the gentle tsunami of random visual noise to reflect the unperceivable, far safer than opening one's third eye directly to the warp. In the ships of Helheim's arsenal, great sinuous ropes of orichalcum were enchanted in this way, caged within navigational observatories to record all the emanations of the warp that were seen in their curves.
But for a soul, this was enough. Decius went over to the bunk, and lifted the dreamcatcher in front of Tranth. "Now, let's see—"
He stared. Then lifted the dreamcatcher higher. And higher, craning his neck to the ceiling.
TRANTH-6982: MY ANACONDA DON'T WANT NONE UNLESS oh hey you're not meant to be seeing this.
TRANTH-6982: Shoo.
Decius screamed in a manly way as his eyes burst in a flare of blood and smoke.
"Decius!" shouted Nona.
He waved his sister off. Already the burns had scabbed over, his enhanced solenoids pumping a regenerative mix to crust over his eyes. Truly, the Omnissiah was inscrutable in his ways.
Could have left his face alone, though. Yes, regrowing eyes was trivial, but it was the principle of the matter. The principle being don't poke out people's eyes.
Tranth stirred from his slumber, sniffing and smacking his lips. "Oh, hello there, Sarens." He rolled upright, stretching and yawning. Actually yawning, with exhaled breath and everything. "Do you have anything to eat? I'm feeling peckish, and if I don't eat something I fear I may just wither away."
Decius tried to fit 'Tranth' and 'standard biological necessities' into the same world. Nona, who had entertained such fantasies for an embarrassing duration of her life, was quicker on the ball and thrust out her erstwhile treat. "We have ice cream!"
"Thank you, Nona." Tranth took the tub. "Might I trouble you for the spoon?"
Nona, incandescent, stiffly held out the spoon. Tranth started scooping ice cream into his gaping maw.
"What the fuck is wrong with you," said Decius, peeling the fibrous callus from his brand-new eyes and eating it to reclaim the nutrients.
"Decius, my friend! I feel quite well, and I thank you for your concern."
Decius threw up his hands. "This shit is way beyond me. We're taking you to a real doctor."
~~~
"Welcome back, Miss Saren," said the Omnissiah, stamping some documents. "And guests! How can I help you today?"
Nona bowed. "Um, my lord—"
"It's past nine, so Regent Rotbart will do fine." He flicked the papers in his hand, teleporting them away. "Now then, I assume you wish to reverse Mr Tranth's unfortunate predicament."
"Yes," said Decius, with Tranth in a headlock. This normally would have never happened, except this Tranth didn't seem to know how to use his limbs as anything other than limbs, and on that count Decius outnumbered him.
"No!" squeaked Nona.
Decius glared. "Yes."
"Do I have no say in this?" asked Tranth with genuine curiosity.
"You don't fucking count, you're mentally impaired and your judgement is compromised."
"Well!" Tranth huffed. "See if you get a molecular spinner for Emperor's Day."
"You are being kind of rude," added Nona.
"Ruder than poisoning him?" retorted Decius, in case Nona had forgotten. Nona didn't reply.
"Actually," said the Omnissiah, "he's perfectly sound of mind and physical health."
"Hah! See?"
"You be quiet," said Decius.
"Sounder, even. The spellwork was designed to predict the most socially adept version of him as a template for imposition." The Omnissiah reached into a drawer, popping open a bottle of ruby liquid and filling a hallowed shot glass. "The Tranth-6982 in your hands is the most psychologically stable, socially unchallenged, human interaction capable Tranth-6982 to possibly exist."
Decius dropped Tranth onto the floor like he was a bomb. "He's possessed?"
"In the same way an actor channels the role. This is your friend, if he had turned his supreme intellect to improving himself in the spiritual way, rather than the physical. A ghost of himself from a different world." The Omnissiah threw back a shot. "Morally spiritual, not psychically spiritual."
"Ow," said Tranth. "That hurts, my lord."
Decius raised an eyebrow, not saying 'is this the best alternate universe Tranth could do,' but certainly thinking it. "And this is what came to mind when my sister asked for a love spell."
"Love is a state of mind," said the Omnissiah. "Loving, and being loved. One must appreciate the passive role as well as the active." He poured another glass and sculled it down. "Also, he's a virgin."
"STOP," said Decius.
"I could hear a little more," said Nona, who was going in the time-out corner.
"TOO MUCH INFORMATION," Decius continued.
"Yes, that doesn't seem right at all," said Tranth, who was definitely going in a different corner. He sat up and ran his hands over his synthetic biceps, tensing and relaxing them. "I'm not saying I'm irresistible, but I definitely have some advantages going for me. Plus, I'm a master chef."
Decius reached out, closing his sister's jaw. "Master chef or not, you can't keep him like this."
Nona fretted. "But," she said, and waved at Tranth, as if that explained everything.
"Yes, you could," said the Omnissiah, taking another drink.
"No," said Decius, "because if Tranth likes you he has to like you by himself, not with a sixty-foot psychic pylon jammed into his head that turns him into his good clone. Also, manipulating minds is wrong and bad. Also also, he's not your mind to keep."
"Or you could leave him like this," said the Omnissiah, who was not helping.
"If I may interrupt?" said Tranth. "I'm sure I like Nona whether or not I am the version of myself you are accustomed to."
"Oh for fuck's sake," cursed Decius. "If you're lying right now I will punch your skull out of your spine."
Nona's eyes were as wide as dinner plates.
"I don't see any reason why not," Tranth continued, turning to Nona. "Even if the particular pattern of this mind is suited for mechanical engineering rather than social, I still hold you in high esteem, and would not be averse to a relationship with you. I can't imagine any possible self that does not and can still be identified with myself."
"But you said you didn't love me!" said Nona. "You said you'd never love me, ever!"
"What, really?" Tranth scratched his head. "That doesn't sound right. I'd have to be some kind of idiot. I mean--" He held his hands out at Nona, as if that explained everything. "Surely not."
Nona was quiet. The Omnissiah took another drink.
"You were micromanaging your own brain into an optimised intelligence engine," said Decius. "In fairness, you seemed like you knew what you were doing."
Tranth looked horrified, which was an expression his face had never made before. "You can't do that! Enacting conscious control over your own impulses stagnates mental verve. You just spiral and spiral until you hit a plateau of self-righteous apathy."
"Yes, that sounds about right."
"Eurgh. How was he expecting to pass the peer review? Or the ethics committee?"
Decius blinked. "The what?"
"The— surely his methodology had to be reviewed by other experts specifically to prevent this sort of mental derangement. The possible scientific gains cannot be worth it when weighed against the integrity of a human mind."
Decius turned to the Omnissiah. "My lord, where exactly did you get this Tranth?"
"He's not real," said the Omnissiah. "Poetry aside, I didn't pluck a ghost from some future-that-never-was. He's just a virtual machine executable."
The enginseer scowled. "Well, that's horrible. I give you my full permission to unmake whatever mechanism prevents him from emotional compromise. Prevents me from emotional compromise. Serves me right."
The Omnissiah pulled out several parchments and a dataslate. "Please fill out this form and submit to your nearest Administratum office, and the nearest accredited Totemist will be with you shortly to troubleshoot your implants."
~~~
While Tranth was busy writing out the forms, Nona sat next to him. "Um," she said. "Sorry. For drugging you into becoming a normal human."
"'Sorry for drugging you to satisfy my uncontrollable lusts,' you mean." said Tranth. He didn't seem to have the grasp of his nanite fingers, physically signing the papers instead of interfacing with the dataslate. "I'm not the Tranth you should be apologising to. Although I doubt that version of myself will care, so apology accepted."
"I'll have you know I control my lusts very well, thank you."
"You're welcome."
Such a smooth reaction! Nona pouted, then pretended she hadn't. "Won't you be mad you undid it?"
"The neurostabiliser isn't meant for prolonged use; any illusions of control are false gains as immediate willpower atrophies from lack of challenge. True control is gained from constant management of emotions and the development of coping techniques, not by stifling them at the root. This Tranth will deserve everything he gets." Tranth signed the last form with a flourish. "I don't really exist, so I won't suffer the consequences. Hahahah!" He cackled.
Oh no, thought Nona, why does this make him even hotter.
Tranth stacked the papers together, and handed them to the Omnissiah, who was picking at a boxed lunch. The papers filed in midair, stamping and submitting themselves into the appropriate folders. When the last file was sorted, the Omnissiah sat up, swallowing a slice of fried pork katsu. "Everything seems to be sorted," he said. "Your tech-psyker will be with you shortly."
He slid back in his spinny-throne, and spun once, before scooting back to the desk. "Hello, I am your assigned Totemist. I see here you've come in for a mental realignment."
"Yes," said Tranth. "Is this rigmarole necessary?"
The Omnissiah stared at him. "I am smarter than you."
"Fair enough."
The Omnissiah clicked his fingers, and Tranth fainted, crumpling into a posthuman pile on the floor. "All done."
TRANTH-6982: SEE YOU SPACE COWBOY
TRANTH-6982: YOU'RE GONNA CARRY THAT WEIGHT
TRANTH-6982 has left the chatroom
TRANTH-6982 has joined the chatroom
TRANTH-6982: What the fuck.
The pile groaned. "What time is it?"
"Five in the afternoon," said the Omnissiah.
Tranth groaned. "I had things I was going to do today. Fucking hell."
"Are you alright?" asked Nona. "How do you feel?"
Tranth looked at Nona, before reaching out to her face. Then he pushed her head to the side to look at Decius. "Why are we in the office of the Omnissiah, Decius?"
"Nona knocked you out with a kiss and we got no work done today."
Tranth groaned louder, sitting up and stretching, his hands beeping as he recalibrated. "I'm hungry. Why am I hungry?"
"Maybe we can get dinner," said Nona.
Tranth looked at Nona, who restrained her smile and mostly failed. "I could murder a curry," he admitted.
"Yay!" Nona hugged him. "I'll treat!"
"Yay," said Decius.
"Out," said the Omnissiah, and his loyal servants obeyed.
~~~
"And that worked?" asked Victoria.
Nona waved a hand over herself, which explained everything. Victoria nodded sagely. In the corner, Tranth the Elder simmered like an angry soup.
"Suck it up, old man," said Tranth the Younger. "It's been thirty years."
"Do you know how much work I could get done without these urges?" Tranth the Elder prepared himself for a long-worn rant. "So many advances in the knowledge of mankind, lost like tears in the rain."
"When you have to make love to your beautiful wife in your STC house with your infinite cornucopia matter-spinner in the silver age of humanity."
"Let me have this."
Tranth-7449 sighed.
~~~
AN: On second thought, let's not contemplate techpriest romances. 'Tis a silly thing.
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