- Location
- yorkshire
those poor bastards
Titanicus Mercenarius (Battletech x 30k Crossover)
- Thread starter Kadaeux
- Start date
- Crossover
Not_Interesting
The Munchkin of Megastructures
- Location
- In your walls(the walls between realities)
- Pronouns
- He/Him
They are not ready for the Secutarii, Skitarii and their Legio Cybernetica/Ordo Reductor support. Also...can I say just how fucking cool the Thallax is? Even Astartes have nothing on the giant Combat Cyborgs.
To be fair while the thallax was indeed awesome and horrifying on equal measure when you realise how they made them, most were lost in the Heresey and most of their plans and indeed most of the plans for the cybernetica were slowly lost over time a especially when forge worlds were lost.
Also consider the Admech referred to the human that was welding permantly into the thallax as bital organic componenants, and they cut out nearly all the emotion centers in the brains due to thallax would be in contast agony and very rapidly descend into being psychotic.
The horrifying thing is the Skirtarii chosen to undergo the process turn become one really did think it was a great honor to volunteer.
Very similiar to Dreadnaughts to be honest.
If they could see their original counterparts, these Big Mac would be praying to only have toad shock.
Last edited:
Arimai
Curmudgeon
Welcome to Total War 101. Infantry deployment by a Titan Legion usually means they aren't leaving anytime soon. The Capellans are fucked
Arimai
Curmudgeon
The difference being Dreadnaughts do their best to prevent more suffering and damage to their occupants. The Thallax were an abomination
Arimai
Curmudgeon
I chalk that up to the Void Dragon corruption of the Mechanicum
Chapter 21; Memory of Light
Kadaeux
Delta Imperator
- Location
- Vortice between realities
Chapter 21;
Memory of Light
Barton felt the cold in his bones. He had three confirmed sites where the Legio Astorum had manifested so far, the first was the loss of outpost four where the whole Legio had been present before splitting, at the second they had deployed six of their Warhounds and a Regiment of armour and infantry that were annihilating the forces he had on the field, the third group had two of the Reavers with all of the Dire Wolves they were at the city of Tianshui burning it to the ground in their efforts to root out the Capellan forces there.
"Have we located the main force of Legio Astorum?" Barton asked as he turned to his intel operator.
The man shuddered nervously. "No sir. I don't know how they could avoid detection, but we've lost them."
Barton had heard the rumours, he knew how they could lose detection of them. He looked up at the ceiling as if he could see through it to the ship in orbit somewhere high overhead. Twice now it had engaged in precision bombardment with its dorsal beam weapons scorching dropships into molten pools at the base of newly carved crater canyons, framed by the glass of vitrified soil. It was for that reason that his own Dropships were now seated almost two kilometres away from the main bulk of his forces and facilities. "Keep me apprised, we need to know when they're spotted next."
He looked out of the small armored window to the outside of the bunker where the artillery park was emplaced. He had heard that mass artillery had proved successful in damaging one of their machines before, and so he had begged, threatened and outright bought what he could. He was prepared. He believed it with every core of his being, the artillery park was the only part of his base that was maintained at full alert at all times. He squinted. There was something out there. Another operator called out.
"Sir, the Artillery Park has reported they're detecting something on the North approach." That stirred Barton from his place.
"Ok everyone. Full battle alert. Let's get everything we can to see what is going on ther..." He had looked back for an instant, his instincts warning him. Blasts of light and suddenly the horizon wasn't just a matter of 'something' was out there. All of the Legio Astorum's heaviest weapons were there. The Warmaster Titan standing over its three Warlord brethren with the two Nemesis Warbringers on the flanks with the four missing Reaver Titans.
The Warhorns of all the Titans roared in a sonic shockwave that shattered every non-reinforced window inside of ten kilometres as the Warmaster continued to blast its warcall. Artillery in the park began to turn as quickly as they could be operated but the Titans left no moment for contemplation. As alert Battlemechs raced uselessly to try and counter them the Titans opened fire far beyond the range of Battlemechs.
Barton snarled into an all-hands intercom. "ALL HANDS! ALL HANDS! BATTLE! WE ARE ENGAGED!" Before snapping it off and running for his own Battlemech, the venerable Atlas would do him no good, he knew that as surely as he...
Barton fell into ashes as the Suzerain Plasma Destructors began to unload as quickly as they could be cycled and cooled, a blast a hundred metres in diameter turning his command bunker into molten matter.
---
Alya Sativa sat straight as the Victrix Anima moved at full stride towards the enemies primary operating base, housing their command and control elements, the sight of the artillery park waiting for them was of no interest, the two gatling blasters on her carapace began to fire streams of 150mm shells at any concentration of the enemy. She was only vaguely aware of that as the Moderati chose targets and focussed them. Her attention was on enemy mechs and heavy artillery as she brought the extirpator cannon and volkite destructors to bear. On the other side of the Warmaster the Warlord Purifying Light commanded by Princeps Kinemen Auroch was co-ordinating with her to avoid sharing targets, its plasma destructor and volcano cannons picking up kill after kill. The sound of two bells shaking the world filled the air beyond the Victrix Anima as the Warbringers both fired their Quake Cannons into the field of Dropships as the largest of them tried to fight back with its own artillery piece.
The third Warlord, Hateful Educator commanded by Princeps Mirabel Song lifted its primary weapons and the Vulcan Mega-bolters on the backs of the arioch power claws roared to life joining the Vulcan mega-bolters in her carapace weapons placement. She focussed on every single human body she could spot with a vicious cruelty that was all to characteristic of that particular Warlord Titan. People bursting like blood blisters when bolt shells designed for anti-tank work found themselves in a new more terrible target.
The Purifying Light's carapace apocalypse launchers dropped salvoes of fire that walked across the artillery park. The element of surprise, now well and truly over, the remaining artillery began to bark their weapons in an uncoordinated sequence, unable to unify on any single target. Ahead of her the Reavers were moving in their mixed armaments leaving searing bars of light to cross the field, rays of thermal energy from melta cannons and even more missiles. The artillery park was in disarray, people trying to flee annihilated by the Hateful Educator and Reaver Titans weapon fire, others trying to fire on the biggest targets. The Titans had the full attention of the Big Macs command base as well as all the Capellan forces they had rounded up under their operational commands.
As entire companies of artillery were wiped out at a stroke, as the last of the Battlemechs fell before even entering weapons range under the relentless assault of the heavy Titans, one by one they began to flee instead. People running on foot, or in whatever truck or vehicles they could commandeer, all of them racing away from the wall of death walking towards them sedately.
Then the jaws of the trap snapped shut. From the edge of the woods machines rolled out massing over three hundred tons each of the twelve Stormswords were flanked by a pair of Malcador Infernus'.
At the same moment. They all opened fire.
Memory of Light
Barton felt the cold in his bones. He had three confirmed sites where the Legio Astorum had manifested so far, the first was the loss of outpost four where the whole Legio had been present before splitting, at the second they had deployed six of their Warhounds and a Regiment of armour and infantry that were annihilating the forces he had on the field, the third group had two of the Reavers with all of the Dire Wolves they were at the city of Tianshui burning it to the ground in their efforts to root out the Capellan forces there.
"Have we located the main force of Legio Astorum?" Barton asked as he turned to his intel operator.
The man shuddered nervously. "No sir. I don't know how they could avoid detection, but we've lost them."
Barton had heard the rumours, he knew how they could lose detection of them. He looked up at the ceiling as if he could see through it to the ship in orbit somewhere high overhead. Twice now it had engaged in precision bombardment with its dorsal beam weapons scorching dropships into molten pools at the base of newly carved crater canyons, framed by the glass of vitrified soil. It was for that reason that his own Dropships were now seated almost two kilometres away from the main bulk of his forces and facilities. "Keep me apprised, we need to know when they're spotted next."
He looked out of the small armored window to the outside of the bunker where the artillery park was emplaced. He had heard that mass artillery had proved successful in damaging one of their machines before, and so he had begged, threatened and outright bought what he could. He was prepared. He believed it with every core of his being, the artillery park was the only part of his base that was maintained at full alert at all times. He squinted. There was something out there. Another operator called out.
"Sir, the Artillery Park has reported they're detecting something on the North approach." That stirred Barton from his place.
"Ok everyone. Full battle alert. Let's get everything we can to see what is going on ther..." He had looked back for an instant, his instincts warning him. Blasts of light and suddenly the horizon wasn't just a matter of 'something' was out there. All of the Legio Astorum's heaviest weapons were there. The Warmaster Titan standing over its three Warlord brethren with the two Nemesis Warbringers on the flanks with the four missing Reaver Titans.
The Warhorns of all the Titans roared in a sonic shockwave that shattered every non-reinforced window inside of ten kilometres as the Warmaster continued to blast its warcall. Artillery in the park began to turn as quickly as they could be operated but the Titans left no moment for contemplation. As alert Battlemechs raced uselessly to try and counter them the Titans opened fire far beyond the range of Battlemechs.
Barton snarled into an all-hands intercom. "ALL HANDS! ALL HANDS! BATTLE! WE ARE ENGAGED!" Before snapping it off and running for his own Battlemech, the venerable Atlas would do him no good, he knew that as surely as he...
Barton fell into ashes as the Suzerain Plasma Destructors began to unload as quickly as they could be cycled and cooled, a blast a hundred metres in diameter turning his command bunker into molten matter.
---
Alya Sativa sat straight as the Victrix Anima moved at full stride towards the enemies primary operating base, housing their command and control elements, the sight of the artillery park waiting for them was of no interest, the two gatling blasters on her carapace began to fire streams of 150mm shells at any concentration of the enemy. She was only vaguely aware of that as the Moderati chose targets and focussed them. Her attention was on enemy mechs and heavy artillery as she brought the extirpator cannon and volkite destructors to bear. On the other side of the Warmaster the Warlord Purifying Light commanded by Princeps Kinemen Auroch was co-ordinating with her to avoid sharing targets, its plasma destructor and volcano cannons picking up kill after kill. The sound of two bells shaking the world filled the air beyond the Victrix Anima as the Warbringers both fired their Quake Cannons into the field of Dropships as the largest of them tried to fight back with its own artillery piece.
The third Warlord, Hateful Educator commanded by Princeps Mirabel Song lifted its primary weapons and the Vulcan Mega-bolters on the backs of the arioch power claws roared to life joining the Vulcan mega-bolters in her carapace weapons placement. She focussed on every single human body she could spot with a vicious cruelty that was all to characteristic of that particular Warlord Titan. People bursting like blood blisters when bolt shells designed for anti-tank work found themselves in a new more terrible target.
The Purifying Light's carapace apocalypse launchers dropped salvoes of fire that walked across the artillery park. The element of surprise, now well and truly over, the remaining artillery began to bark their weapons in an uncoordinated sequence, unable to unify on any single target. Ahead of her the Reavers were moving in their mixed armaments leaving searing bars of light to cross the field, rays of thermal energy from melta cannons and even more missiles. The artillery park was in disarray, people trying to flee annihilated by the Hateful Educator and Reaver Titans weapon fire, others trying to fire on the biggest targets. The Titans had the full attention of the Big Macs command base as well as all the Capellan forces they had rounded up under their operational commands.
As entire companies of artillery were wiped out at a stroke, as the last of the Battlemechs fell before even entering weapons range under the relentless assault of the heavy Titans, one by one they began to flee instead. People running on foot, or in whatever truck or vehicles they could commandeer, all of them racing away from the wall of death walking towards them sedately.
Then the jaws of the trap snapped shut. From the edge of the woods machines rolled out massing over three hundred tons each of the twelve Stormswords were flanked by a pair of Malcador Infernus'.
At the same moment. They all opened fire.
Chapter 22; A Colonialism of Terror
Kadaeux
Delta Imperator
- Location
- Vortice between realities
Chapter 22;
A Colonialism of Terror
Betelgeuse 3032 - June
The column was retreating across the steppes with the slow pace of any large body of displaced peoples forced from their homes to flee in terror, despite the fear hundreds to thousands, let alone millions, of people could not move but at a crawl, a press of bodies and vehicles moving no more than ten or twelve kilometres a day, only those with vehicles occasionally breaking through the press to move faster.
Vika turned and saw why they were running, why they were being pressed, and what they were being pressed by. She spat on the ground, a woman of her means being reduced to the servitor caste by the invaders. And now their war marchines were herding them towards something. Five massive edifices that had been dropped by the vessel in orbit and now stood in the distance. Occasionally the blast of a warhorn sounded and the crowds picked up their feet. She stumbled and a large man behind her picked her up and pushed her forwards gently. "Don't let them see us defeated." He said and she nodded proudly.
...
The edifices grew closer and she saw that they were monstrously large buildings with drives under their bellies. Guns studded their entire structure and they panned about searching for targets. They were still more than a day away at this pace and she with the help of the large man, Lee Han, climbed up onto a truck and put a pair of binoculars to her face. The truck had never been able to escape the press of the crowds and was condemned to move with them at the snails pace. The Titans behind them were closer. The sonic assault of their warhorns terrifying. She saw entire parks of abandoned vehicles as their occupants had been extracted from them and herded into...
Her heart fluttered with barely concealed terror. The crowd, some twenty six million people, was being corralled into massive lines. And from there they were being herded into the structures.
...
It had been two days, and she was weaker now, but they were almost there. She felt the need for water so deeply that she had several times now licked the sweat from her own body in order to have water, any water. The line was approaching a fortified wall, erected and built for just the purpose of dealing with this many people. Entire regiments of troops manned the walls and she occasionally saw the twinkle of laser targeters flashing through the dust raised by twenty six million trudging people. Even so, it took nearly two hours before she reached close enough to really see what was going on.
At least on this side of the wall. The line was being split up into several hundred branches, each being fed single file into the gates for whatever would happen next. Nobody was passing out food or water, and the thought of those things almost made her, but she was too dehydrated to manage it. And then, before she could react, she was confronted by a cyborg. It stabbed her with a medical probe and studied the data. "Female, Age approximately thirty-eight." He said as he studied the screen. "Madam. What are your skills?" He asked and she licked her lips, trying to make them wet enough to talk. He sighed and handed her a tiny plastic bulb which she squeezed into her mouth gratefully, not even noticing the odd flavour until too late. It wasn't just water.
"I was a minor noblewoman. I ma.."
The Cyborg looked at his datapad. "Local nobility. No valuable skills. Assigned for Servitor Conversion. Marking for genetic exam, if acceptable for genestock, harvest remaining eggs." The cyborg grabbed her arm and clamped a device around her right arm, and her arm burned and she whimpered in numbed pain as a brand was seared there. The device was removed and she tottered groggily into the line indicated.
She never saw what happened with Lee Han as she tottered forwards into the gates. They closed behind her and suddenly she was assailed in a chemical bath, she felt her clothing and hair slough away in the deluge as her skin lightly burned under the sprays. Another gate opened and she stumbled forwards. Mechanical limbs reached out and lifted her cruciform as needles jabbed into her. She could barely hear, the fear and terror numbed by the soporifics in the nutrient bulb she had been given dulling her senses. But she did hear. And none of the drugs in her system could stop the gibbering in her mind.
"Female. Age late thirty terran standard. Marked for gene-testing." The mechanised voice said as a being with tentacle limbs manipulated the systems around her. She could see, and even as she listened her terror was amplified every second. She could see the person who had come before her. Carried cruciform into a chamber beyond, a brace gripped the person by the torso and automated cutting machines swiftly separated their arms and legs, capping them off with some sort of device before placing the remainder of the body into a half-sized casket. "Female genestock is insufficiently healthy for valuable contributions. Ovaries will be harvested for servitor gestation." Another device stabbed out into the back of her neck and she tried to scream as a device was implanted there and the machinery moved along.
She saw the meat and bonesaws up ahead. And she saw the occupant of the booth there. It wasn't even a person anymore. The torso had been bonded with the machinery there. "Servitor Betelgeuse 16929002 assigned." She once more failed to scream, the soporifics in her system virtually paralysing her, but not enough to fail to feel agony as surgical lasers ripped into her lower abdomen and some kind of probe headed tentacles reached into her pelvis and extracted her ovaries for storage in some kind of cryogenic cell before with no hesitation, her torso was gripped tight and her arms and legs were removed in moments. She wept to herself as her terror hit the highest that she could imagine as she was placed, limbs capped off at the thigh and shoulder, into a half sized coffin. Catheters seeking out her orifices without human intervention and she realised the true depth of horror before her.
She was going to be transported in this half sized coffin fully away.
She tried to scream. With every fiber of her being she tried to dredge up the power to scream but all she managed was a gurgle around the tubes forced down her throat and airways.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lee Han was face to face with the Cyborg now and his skin crawled. "Male, Age approximately twenty-five." The Cyborg noted things down and looked up at him. "Sir. What are your skills?" The query was the same, adjusted only for his sex.
He was handed a bulb and as Vika had, he drunk it quickly. "Sir, I was a Senior Technician with Tengo Aerospace, working on the proprietary Bally Tech Super x40's used by Mammoth Dropships." The Cyborg was writing down everything he said with some sort of cybernetic stylus.
"Do you have any educational qualifications related to your work as a Senior Technician?" Came the next query.
"Yes sir, I have a Doctorate in Advanced Fusion Systems Technology from the Sian University with secondary Degrees in power systems maintenance and energy system architecture." He answered honestly, "My Degree in Power Systems Maintenance is with credit, and the Degree in Energy System Architecture is with distinction."
The Cyborg nodded. "Are you willing to undergo higher learning?" Came the next question.
"I am sir. In the field of engineering, a man who is unwilling to learn is quickly out of the job." He said, hoping a little enthusiasm might help him.
"Very well. You will not be assigned to a Lander for relocation, you will join Group Acolyte Primus on Stormbird 'Light of Mars'." The Cyborg said. "Morius, please take over." He passed his equipment to another Cyborg and stepped away from his booth, a door opened in the wall and the Cyborg beckoned him within. Lee stepped into the structure and began to follow the cyborg, the door having closed behind him. They ascended through the wall and he realised it wasn't a wall. It was an entire processing facility. Each line he had seen corresponding to one leaving the wall. As they reached the top, what he saw didn't quite reconcile in his mind. For every ten lines of people entering the structure, only six lines of people were leaving it with four being large numbers of capsules being loaded onto transport vehicles, all heading for two of the massive landers.
"Uhm, where is everyone?" He asked the Cyborg.
"Everyone is being assigned their purpose." The answer didn't actually answer anything, but he knew he wasn't going to get anything else out of it. And so he followed, wordlessly, as they moved towards a hangar structure that wasn't even visible from outside. The craft there was already half filled, and some of them were other senior staff he recognised from the various firms working on Betelgeuse, skilled scientists and technicians all, all of them exemplary in some way. "Your purpose is the potential of greatness, to carry on the greater purpose of knowledge." The Cyborg answered and pushed him towards the transport.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ox-042 Sar-3N watched the dross of the people of Betelgeuse being run through the processing facility. It had been decided that of the population of over three billion, they would take a tith of fifty million total. And he felt a sense of pride at the accomplishment as he worked to do the unspeakable. The old and infirm were written off slated for conversion into servitors unless they possessed sufficient technical knowledge to make them valuable converts for the quest for knowledge. And so too was the too young written off as little more than potential genetic spare material. Harvested for what was worthwhile, the remainder destroyed in plasma furnaces.
It was rest that were of worthwhile examination. Children six to twelve were herded onto one of the Landers where they stood in cages approximately fifty centimetres wide and long. They would be fed and watered as needed, but it wasn't expected that would be needed for long. They Speaker for the Omnissiah would return to Mars after this harvest and drop off the new blood of Mars to the care of the Fabricator General to be re-educated and brought into the fold of the Martian Mechanicum as gifted future acolytes, or the menials that would keep things running that were too complex for simple servitors.
So too was the bulk of the useful population, between the ages of thirteen to thirty five were herded into the other landers where they would be forced to stand in the same cages the children who were of use would. They would be the new lifeblood of Mars. Useful for breeding the next generations of Mars. They would also have to undergo re-education. They would not all be successfully integrated of course, there was always attrition involved in the edcuation of older menials. Those who failed would simply be given over for servitor conversion. Waste not want not.
But they needed to be quick. He thought to himself. The consumables of the Titan Landers would not last forever. And with so many millions stacked in like cattle, even the oxygen recycling systems would be tested to their limits.
He felt pride at his work. The suggestion laid before the Fabricator General and Princeps Senioris had been praised and adopted without much change, the modifications to the Titan Landers performed in record times.
He would deliver them a boon of fifty million souls for Mars, though forty percent of them were dross only fit for servitor conversion.
Ox-042 Sar-3N took to one knee and blurted the binaric canticle of rousing that he considered his favourite.
"Let chime ring out! Part the veil of circuit and gear. For now is the hour of motion."
A Colonialism of Terror
Betelgeuse 3032 - June
The column was retreating across the steppes with the slow pace of any large body of displaced peoples forced from their homes to flee in terror, despite the fear hundreds to thousands, let alone millions, of people could not move but at a crawl, a press of bodies and vehicles moving no more than ten or twelve kilometres a day, only those with vehicles occasionally breaking through the press to move faster.
Vika turned and saw why they were running, why they were being pressed, and what they were being pressed by. She spat on the ground, a woman of her means being reduced to the servitor caste by the invaders. And now their war marchines were herding them towards something. Five massive edifices that had been dropped by the vessel in orbit and now stood in the distance. Occasionally the blast of a warhorn sounded and the crowds picked up their feet. She stumbled and a large man behind her picked her up and pushed her forwards gently. "Don't let them see us defeated." He said and she nodded proudly.
...
The edifices grew closer and she saw that they were monstrously large buildings with drives under their bellies. Guns studded their entire structure and they panned about searching for targets. They were still more than a day away at this pace and she with the help of the large man, Lee Han, climbed up onto a truck and put a pair of binoculars to her face. The truck had never been able to escape the press of the crowds and was condemned to move with them at the snails pace. The Titans behind them were closer. The sonic assault of their warhorns terrifying. She saw entire parks of abandoned vehicles as their occupants had been extracted from them and herded into...
Her heart fluttered with barely concealed terror. The crowd, some twenty six million people, was being corralled into massive lines. And from there they were being herded into the structures.
...
It had been two days, and she was weaker now, but they were almost there. She felt the need for water so deeply that she had several times now licked the sweat from her own body in order to have water, any water. The line was approaching a fortified wall, erected and built for just the purpose of dealing with this many people. Entire regiments of troops manned the walls and she occasionally saw the twinkle of laser targeters flashing through the dust raised by twenty six million trudging people. Even so, it took nearly two hours before she reached close enough to really see what was going on.
At least on this side of the wall. The line was being split up into several hundred branches, each being fed single file into the gates for whatever would happen next. Nobody was passing out food or water, and the thought of those things almost made her, but she was too dehydrated to manage it. And then, before she could react, she was confronted by a cyborg. It stabbed her with a medical probe and studied the data. "Female, Age approximately thirty-eight." He said as he studied the screen. "Madam. What are your skills?" He asked and she licked her lips, trying to make them wet enough to talk. He sighed and handed her a tiny plastic bulb which she squeezed into her mouth gratefully, not even noticing the odd flavour until too late. It wasn't just water.
"I was a minor noblewoman. I ma.."
The Cyborg looked at his datapad. "Local nobility. No valuable skills. Assigned for Servitor Conversion. Marking for genetic exam, if acceptable for genestock, harvest remaining eggs." The cyborg grabbed her arm and clamped a device around her right arm, and her arm burned and she whimpered in numbed pain as a brand was seared there. The device was removed and she tottered groggily into the line indicated.
She never saw what happened with Lee Han as she tottered forwards into the gates. They closed behind her and suddenly she was assailed in a chemical bath, she felt her clothing and hair slough away in the deluge as her skin lightly burned under the sprays. Another gate opened and she stumbled forwards. Mechanical limbs reached out and lifted her cruciform as needles jabbed into her. She could barely hear, the fear and terror numbed by the soporifics in the nutrient bulb she had been given dulling her senses. But she did hear. And none of the drugs in her system could stop the gibbering in her mind.
"Female. Age late thirty terran standard. Marked for gene-testing." The mechanised voice said as a being with tentacle limbs manipulated the systems around her. She could see, and even as she listened her terror was amplified every second. She could see the person who had come before her. Carried cruciform into a chamber beyond, a brace gripped the person by the torso and automated cutting machines swiftly separated their arms and legs, capping them off with some sort of device before placing the remainder of the body into a half-sized casket. "Female genestock is insufficiently healthy for valuable contributions. Ovaries will be harvested for servitor gestation." Another device stabbed out into the back of her neck and she tried to scream as a device was implanted there and the machinery moved along.
She saw the meat and bonesaws up ahead. And she saw the occupant of the booth there. It wasn't even a person anymore. The torso had been bonded with the machinery there. "Servitor Betelgeuse 16929002 assigned." She once more failed to scream, the soporifics in her system virtually paralysing her, but not enough to fail to feel agony as surgical lasers ripped into her lower abdomen and some kind of probe headed tentacles reached into her pelvis and extracted her ovaries for storage in some kind of cryogenic cell before with no hesitation, her torso was gripped tight and her arms and legs were removed in moments. She wept to herself as her terror hit the highest that she could imagine as she was placed, limbs capped off at the thigh and shoulder, into a half sized coffin. Catheters seeking out her orifices without human intervention and she realised the true depth of horror before her.
She was going to be transported in this half sized coffin fully away.
She tried to scream. With every fiber of her being she tried to dredge up the power to scream but all she managed was a gurgle around the tubes forced down her throat and airways.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lee Han was face to face with the Cyborg now and his skin crawled. "Male, Age approximately twenty-five." The Cyborg noted things down and looked up at him. "Sir. What are your skills?" The query was the same, adjusted only for his sex.
He was handed a bulb and as Vika had, he drunk it quickly. "Sir, I was a Senior Technician with Tengo Aerospace, working on the proprietary Bally Tech Super x40's used by Mammoth Dropships." The Cyborg was writing down everything he said with some sort of cybernetic stylus.
"Do you have any educational qualifications related to your work as a Senior Technician?" Came the next query.
"Yes sir, I have a Doctorate in Advanced Fusion Systems Technology from the Sian University with secondary Degrees in power systems maintenance and energy system architecture." He answered honestly, "My Degree in Power Systems Maintenance is with credit, and the Degree in Energy System Architecture is with distinction."
The Cyborg nodded. "Are you willing to undergo higher learning?" Came the next question.
"I am sir. In the field of engineering, a man who is unwilling to learn is quickly out of the job." He said, hoping a little enthusiasm might help him.
"Very well. You will not be assigned to a Lander for relocation, you will join Group Acolyte Primus on Stormbird 'Light of Mars'." The Cyborg said. "Morius, please take over." He passed his equipment to another Cyborg and stepped away from his booth, a door opened in the wall and the Cyborg beckoned him within. Lee stepped into the structure and began to follow the cyborg, the door having closed behind him. They ascended through the wall and he realised it wasn't a wall. It was an entire processing facility. Each line he had seen corresponding to one leaving the wall. As they reached the top, what he saw didn't quite reconcile in his mind. For every ten lines of people entering the structure, only six lines of people were leaving it with four being large numbers of capsules being loaded onto transport vehicles, all heading for two of the massive landers.
"Uhm, where is everyone?" He asked the Cyborg.
"Everyone is being assigned their purpose." The answer didn't actually answer anything, but he knew he wasn't going to get anything else out of it. And so he followed, wordlessly, as they moved towards a hangar structure that wasn't even visible from outside. The craft there was already half filled, and some of them were other senior staff he recognised from the various firms working on Betelgeuse, skilled scientists and technicians all, all of them exemplary in some way. "Your purpose is the potential of greatness, to carry on the greater purpose of knowledge." The Cyborg answered and pushed him towards the transport.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ox-042 Sar-3N watched the dross of the people of Betelgeuse being run through the processing facility. It had been decided that of the population of over three billion, they would take a tith of fifty million total. And he felt a sense of pride at the accomplishment as he worked to do the unspeakable. The old and infirm were written off slated for conversion into servitors unless they possessed sufficient technical knowledge to make them valuable converts for the quest for knowledge. And so too was the too young written off as little more than potential genetic spare material. Harvested for what was worthwhile, the remainder destroyed in plasma furnaces.
It was rest that were of worthwhile examination. Children six to twelve were herded onto one of the Landers where they stood in cages approximately fifty centimetres wide and long. They would be fed and watered as needed, but it wasn't expected that would be needed for long. They Speaker for the Omnissiah would return to Mars after this harvest and drop off the new blood of Mars to the care of the Fabricator General to be re-educated and brought into the fold of the Martian Mechanicum as gifted future acolytes, or the menials that would keep things running that were too complex for simple servitors.
So too was the bulk of the useful population, between the ages of thirteen to thirty five were herded into the other landers where they would be forced to stand in the same cages the children who were of use would. They would be the new lifeblood of Mars. Useful for breeding the next generations of Mars. They would also have to undergo re-education. They would not all be successfully integrated of course, there was always attrition involved in the edcuation of older menials. Those who failed would simply be given over for servitor conversion. Waste not want not.
But they needed to be quick. He thought to himself. The consumables of the Titan Landers would not last forever. And with so many millions stacked in like cattle, even the oxygen recycling systems would be tested to their limits.
He felt pride at his work. The suggestion laid before the Fabricator General and Princeps Senioris had been praised and adopted without much change, the modifications to the Titan Landers performed in record times.
He would deliver them a boon of fifty million souls for Mars, though forty percent of them were dross only fit for servitor conversion.
Ox-042 Sar-3N took to one knee and blurted the binaric canticle of rousing that he considered his favourite.
"Let chime ring out! Part the veil of circuit and gear. For now is the hour of motion."
- Location
- yorkshire
Well that is horrifying
You know this fits perfectly with the lore of the Admech.
The thing is i dont doubt there will be alot of people either horrified by this portrayal or claiming to stop reading if its continued like this.
The sad thing is most wont realise that this is show on one world and only 50million people. by the standards of the 40k universe this wouldnt be even a statistical figure greater than 0.1% or less.
The other thing is the servitor section was positivly tame in comparion what really happened to the poor sods in canon. There werent surgical leasers, nive end caps for limbs or soporifics or even cathertors, the real procedure was more like the movie SAW.
Horrific enough that even the space marines and custodes new better than to ask about it.
in some rulebooks theres even mentioned servitor Factories where people are proccessed on mass constantly.
The books of Lords of Mars have a nasty sequence from a arco-flag that explains what happened to him that he is forced to relive and remember and in Flesh and Steel they describe a inquistor being given and actual tour of one of the facilites that makes a bog standard unagumented version and even the damn inquisitor was horrified by the proceedure. The worse bit is you can still be rejected from becoming a servitor they dump you from the convayour right into a industrical grinder and turn you into corpse starch.
If you feel like listending this video actual describes one method via a story.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZPuo0ThnMqc. its graphic
The thing is i dont doubt there will be alot of people either horrified by this portrayal or claiming to stop reading if its continued like this.
The sad thing is most wont realise that this is show on one world and only 50million people. by the standards of the 40k universe this wouldnt be even a statistical figure greater than 0.1% or less.
The other thing is the servitor section was positivly tame in comparion what really happened to the poor sods in canon. There werent surgical leasers, nive end caps for limbs or soporifics or even cathertors, the real procedure was more like the movie SAW.
Horrific enough that even the space marines and custodes new better than to ask about it.
in some rulebooks theres even mentioned servitor Factories where people are proccessed on mass constantly.
The books of Lords of Mars have a nasty sequence from a arco-flag that explains what happened to him that he is forced to relive and remember and in Flesh and Steel they describe a inquistor being given and actual tour of one of the facilites that makes a bog standard unagumented version and even the damn inquisitor was horrified by the proceedure. The worse bit is you can still be rejected from becoming a servitor they dump you from the convayour right into a industrical grinder and turn you into corpse starch.
If you feel like listending this video actual describes one method via a story.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZPuo0ThnMqc. its graphic
Last edited:
Kadaeux
Delta Imperator
- Location
- Vortice between realities
Oh I won't be surprised, it wasn't even easy to write. But this unfortunately *is* the mechanicum, and body horror is a strong theme for them, and they're definitely not 'good guys'. While the Clans are going to get a rude surprise, the Mechanicum are definitely not the big damn heroes either.
At the same time, it also isn't something I need to show all the time either. Now a peek behind the curtain has been shown, the implications that its still happening is enough.
Honestly, IMO we've actually *seen* something that actually conveys the feeling really well in gaming once before.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJwyjWpP4XA
Yep strongification is a good match, all you need to do is make it grungier, less automation more incense and oil, then add in actual humans doing it to you and we probably still wouldnt be able to imagine it for real.
theres a reason the 40k universe is described as the most evil universe in fiction, and thats including some of the hell dimnesions feature.
Makes it more insane when you remeber the humans are technically the goodguys in theory in warhammer, until the tau turned up and even they were screwed up on many levels.
Last edited:
- Location
- North America
And they called me crazy for saying "use the population as a boost for mars."
Do you know what I think the darkly hilarious part is? What we're seeing with the cogboys is merely just a further development of what we already see in many modern industries where the metal is better treated than the meat, like how Amazon distribution centers with robots have air conditioning while ones staffed primarily by humans don't.
Technically the robots would be killed, the modern machines destroyed.
Then they would take those workers and bolt on rivet guns, arc welders and multi-tools, then modified them biologically to withstand the heat and cold. Then cut out their cortex`s and emotional centers when they complain, and finally when they are near to dieing weld them into exoframes designed to be forklifts. So they can serve the distribution center for till their rotten corpse is nearly dust. even the dark admech will still harvest your soul afterwards.
The admech are what the modern industrious wish they could be in pursuit of progress.
- Location
- Madness realms
This is the mechanicus that I was waiting to see, no technical knowledge? Time to be harvested and/or servitorized, not useful for that? Into the disposal unit.
Not_Interesting
The Munchkin of Megastructures
- Location
- In your walls(the walls between realities)
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Welp...they ain´t wrong, this will be a reality check for Inner Sphere nobility. They coast on the scraps of the Star League, but that is immaterial to the Mechanicum of Mars, on the other hand, the lower strata of society: Miners, Technicians, Mechanics, Researchers are gonna get a hell of a boost in status by joining the Mechanicum. Technocractic Theologies are a hell of thing and the Mechanicum is somewhat of a Meritocracy, with a healthy dose of Nepotism...but that is kinda human nature.
I mean, this kind of cruelty is nothing new to the Inner Sphere, the sheer population of the Polities tends to reduce people to numbers and the Houses are not kind, some are better like the Davions whose worst crimes are the rampant illiteracy on many of their worlds, but the Cappies have plenty of skeletons in their closet, so do the Dracs. The Mechanicum uses the population insted of dropping Atomics or Chemical weapons, is it horrifying? Yes, but at least the ones with higher education live...there is a reason the Inner Sphere regressed like it did, bordeline genocide of inteligencia to deny your rival assets? That happened during the Succession Wars, let us not pretend the Houses have a moral high ground.
I mean...what do you think the Houses(lookign at Liao specifically) would do, if they had access to Servitor tech? I feel like the main difference is that the Mechanicum has the means and the "Great" Houses would jump on converting "undesirables" into a complacent workforce. The main difference between them and the Mechanicum is that Mars has the means to do so.
The Clans already stratify their society, taking it a step furher would be logical for some of the more militant Crusaders like Smoke Jaguar imho. They already openly distain Freebirths, taking it a step further and turning Spheroid Freebirths into "Workers"? Not outlandish.
Last edited:
So basically they are just Techbros taken to their ultimate horrifying conclusion?
Nicholas
No longer teaching battlethings on a battleship
- Location
- Ashore again
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Tithe.
Yeah, the Mechanicus are pretty horrific behind the curtains.
Chapter 23; Eventide
Kadaeux
Delta Imperator
- Location
- Vortice between realities
Chapter 23;
Eventide
Maximillian Liao tossed and turned in his sleep before starting awake, drenched in the sweat of his night terrors. A light blinked on an off indicating a new message and he quickly took the device in hands and tried to distract himself from the pure terror his dreams had brought him. The message did nothing of the sort. The Andurien Succession had gained the support of the Warprunners despite his daughter attempting to secure the same to rebuff them. And it was that which was haunting him. Images taken by brave souls who had managed to get close enough to record but not so close to become captive themselves.
Betelgeuse was now part of the Duchy of Andurien, his own forces routed, collapsed and brutally butchered. And then they had landed some kind of dropships, built a processing facility, and over two months, taken fifty million people as a 'tithe'. Massive lines of people fed into the processing facility, but the maths didn't work out, not entirely. Not enough living breathing people came through the other side to be loaded onto their ships. And that was to say nothing of the impossibly inhumane conditions the people had to have endured being loaded onto a ship that size.
But there were stories. Rumours...
And to make matters worse, Maskirovka had suggested that ComStar was actively suppressing information coming from Betelgeuse about the 'Red Tithe' as the people of that world were calling it. The Tithe had simply emptied cities for their quota, but stories were claiming special units had conducted searches across the planet for the most technically qualified individuals. And no word had come of the nobility of Betelgeuse that had lived in the cities which had been uprooted and deported forcefully. No requests for ransom. No offers of repatriation for such valued citizens. And Maximillian knew it, deep down, that the truth was likely even less palatable.
They'd probably just been killed.
He tore his mind away from the stories and rumours back to the note he'd recieved. Reading it he stood and clapped twice. Servants dived from their positions and prepared to dress him as another pair worked to give him a sponge bath. ComStar had consented to set up a link between the Fabricator General and himself to... discuss... the matter, and the Fabricator General had... consented to an audience.
A snarl of anger thrust through him at the temerity and presumption of a mere mercenary company to dare insult him with such a wording. Once bathed to a bare minimum level, he would have to have a true bath after this conference no doubt, he headed towards his office and saw the ComStar adept waiting for him there. That was unusual, for one to leave the HPG station for this was very unusual. Which meant they had a greater interest in this than some mere mercenary company.
"Activate the link." He said as he sat down. The live communications were prohibitively expensive to most. He was not most. The screen came to life. "I am."
"You have requested an audience with the Fabricator General of Mars. I am Famulous Superior Loban. Please await." There was almost fifteen minutes as Maximillian felt his rage building before the mostly human face of the Famulous changed to something far far less human.
"I am Fabricator General Bina Ree. State the nature of your request for audience." The words were inhuman, run through with mechanical vocalisation instead of human speech. And yet every word was clear.
Maximillian rose to his full height, throwing his shoulders back as he glared down the camera with his most angered expression. "I am Chancellor Maximillian Liao of the Capellan Confederation. Your company, which has taken contract with the Duchy of Andurien and Magistry of Canopus, in service of such you have taken almost fifty million citizens of the Capellan Confederation."
"Error."
Aghast at being interrupted Maximillian stuttered for a second. "W...what?"
"You speak in error. The Martian Mechanicum has taken no citizens of the Capellan Confederation. We have in fact secured the tithes owed as part of our contract from the recently acquired chattel of the Duchy of Andurien and Magistry of Canopus. Now that I have corrected your error, our business is..." This time Maximillian had gained enough composure, and rage, to interrupt him in return.
"Our business is not concluded. We demand the return of nobles taken illegally by your mercenary company." He snarled, "If you would risk war with a Great House, you need only refuse our requirement." He stressed the last word.
The line was silent for only a few moments before the inhuman face leaned closer to whatever camera the Fabricator General was using. "I will ask this once Chancellor. Are you very sure you want your nobles back?" The words seemed weighted. A trap of some king waiting to be sprung. The idea that he would say yes somehow being the more terrible option.
"The nobility of the Capellan Confederation are under my direct protection." He said, stiffening at the challenge, "You will return them."
The all too human mouth of the Fabricator General turned up in a smile. "So be it. Remember that it is not always a good thing to get what you wish for." The line went dark.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
It took only three weeks for a ship to arrive in the Sian system, a mule dropship detached from the vessel and burned towards Sian II following the directions of Sian Traffic control with perfection. Even as the Legio Astorum waged war on another world Maximillian had felt trepidation at this meeting. The vessel coming towards them was entirely familiar, unmodified in any way their escorts could determine.
With no ceremony the dropship was landed at the primary spaceport, surrounded by the Red Lancers. He refused to go anywhere near the spaceport, and his own craft was ready for an emergency departure. He instead continued to watch the monitors as the main cargo door of the Mule lowered to the ground and the first units of infantry moved in, weapons raised to their shoulders. And stopped almost as quickly as the sight they beheld. A cargo bay with almost seventy people in it, but not people.... not people anymore. The leader of the unit moved up to the closest and issued his demands for an explanation, or information. The modified being failed to answer. But Maximillian heard the being who did respond.
"Colonel. You will cease badgering the Servitor. You are not on its authorised command list."
"Servitor?" He asked dumbly as the not-quite human moved from the upper gantry. Maximillian frowned as he watched the monitor, servitor was the caste of non-citizens, chattel in and of themselves. The Colonel looked around as the cyborg man blurted something mechanical and in lockstep every single one of the modified beings began to march forwards. "Stop! Stop them!"
"I will not. Chancellor Maximillian Liao ordered the return of his nobles from the cities on Betelgeuse where they were claimed by the Tithe. In fact, he threatened war, I have been sent to return those nobles as we were instructed to return. Now, remove yourself from our dropship. A device was passed to the Colonel. "This is a datapad with the instructions for care and operation of Servitors."
"You will stop them! Now!" The Colonel grabbed the cyborgs right arm and raised his weapon in his other hand. Maximillian nodded, just as well. The...
It happened too quickly for Maximillian to see, and he quickly called up the camera from another of his men down there and backtracked the footage. As soon as the Colonel had grabbed the cyborg, a tentacle had zipped over its shoulder, with a long pointed end and driven straight to the base through the Colonels eye, the tip of it emerging from his skull. The body didn't drop, suspended on the tentacles spike. A hand came out and plucked the device the Colonel had been handed from under his armpit where he had shoved it to confront the Cyborg.
"You there." The Cyborg said, stepping forwards, towards the three rifles pointed at him, he thrust the device at his chosen soldier. "Take this to your leader. He very specifically demanded the return of his nobility. So deliver on it." The soldier was terrified as the Colonels corpse slowly slid off of the tentacles spike. The soldier took the device with terror making his hands shake.
Maximillian Liao activated the comms to allow the soldier to hear him. "Detain that creature, do not allow him to depar..."
The comms barked with static for a second before the cyborgs voice broke into the channel. "Maximillian Liao. You will not be detaining me, you have made a request, most generously the Fabricator General has granted your request. If you attempt to detain me I have been instructed to warn you that while my Dropship is an unarmed standard model mule. I do have one of the six gigaton warheads from a Hulkbreaker torpedo sitting in the cargo hold. If I am detained or removed from this vessel. It will detonate immediately. If this Dropship remains here longer than thirty minutes. It will detonate immediately. Your choice. Your nobles. Or an apocalypse."
Maximillian hesitated... unable to answer for several minutes. "Let them go." He snarled. "Bring me my people."
Eventide
Maximillian Liao tossed and turned in his sleep before starting awake, drenched in the sweat of his night terrors. A light blinked on an off indicating a new message and he quickly took the device in hands and tried to distract himself from the pure terror his dreams had brought him. The message did nothing of the sort. The Andurien Succession had gained the support of the Warprunners despite his daughter attempting to secure the same to rebuff them. And it was that which was haunting him. Images taken by brave souls who had managed to get close enough to record but not so close to become captive themselves.
Betelgeuse was now part of the Duchy of Andurien, his own forces routed, collapsed and brutally butchered. And then they had landed some kind of dropships, built a processing facility, and over two months, taken fifty million people as a 'tithe'. Massive lines of people fed into the processing facility, but the maths didn't work out, not entirely. Not enough living breathing people came through the other side to be loaded onto their ships. And that was to say nothing of the impossibly inhumane conditions the people had to have endured being loaded onto a ship that size.
But there were stories. Rumours...
And to make matters worse, Maskirovka had suggested that ComStar was actively suppressing information coming from Betelgeuse about the 'Red Tithe' as the people of that world were calling it. The Tithe had simply emptied cities for their quota, but stories were claiming special units had conducted searches across the planet for the most technically qualified individuals. And no word had come of the nobility of Betelgeuse that had lived in the cities which had been uprooted and deported forcefully. No requests for ransom. No offers of repatriation for such valued citizens. And Maximillian knew it, deep down, that the truth was likely even less palatable.
They'd probably just been killed.
He tore his mind away from the stories and rumours back to the note he'd recieved. Reading it he stood and clapped twice. Servants dived from their positions and prepared to dress him as another pair worked to give him a sponge bath. ComStar had consented to set up a link between the Fabricator General and himself to... discuss... the matter, and the Fabricator General had... consented to an audience.
A snarl of anger thrust through him at the temerity and presumption of a mere mercenary company to dare insult him with such a wording. Once bathed to a bare minimum level, he would have to have a true bath after this conference no doubt, he headed towards his office and saw the ComStar adept waiting for him there. That was unusual, for one to leave the HPG station for this was very unusual. Which meant they had a greater interest in this than some mere mercenary company.
"Activate the link." He said as he sat down. The live communications were prohibitively expensive to most. He was not most. The screen came to life. "I am."
"You have requested an audience with the Fabricator General of Mars. I am Famulous Superior Loban. Please await." There was almost fifteen minutes as Maximillian felt his rage building before the mostly human face of the Famulous changed to something far far less human.
"I am Fabricator General Bina Ree. State the nature of your request for audience." The words were inhuman, run through with mechanical vocalisation instead of human speech. And yet every word was clear.
Maximillian rose to his full height, throwing his shoulders back as he glared down the camera with his most angered expression. "I am Chancellor Maximillian Liao of the Capellan Confederation. Your company, which has taken contract with the Duchy of Andurien and Magistry of Canopus, in service of such you have taken almost fifty million citizens of the Capellan Confederation."
"Error."
Aghast at being interrupted Maximillian stuttered for a second. "W...what?"
"You speak in error. The Martian Mechanicum has taken no citizens of the Capellan Confederation. We have in fact secured the tithes owed as part of our contract from the recently acquired chattel of the Duchy of Andurien and Magistry of Canopus. Now that I have corrected your error, our business is..." This time Maximillian had gained enough composure, and rage, to interrupt him in return.
"Our business is not concluded. We demand the return of nobles taken illegally by your mercenary company." He snarled, "If you would risk war with a Great House, you need only refuse our requirement." He stressed the last word.
The line was silent for only a few moments before the inhuman face leaned closer to whatever camera the Fabricator General was using. "I will ask this once Chancellor. Are you very sure you want your nobles back?" The words seemed weighted. A trap of some king waiting to be sprung. The idea that he would say yes somehow being the more terrible option.
"The nobility of the Capellan Confederation are under my direct protection." He said, stiffening at the challenge, "You will return them."
The all too human mouth of the Fabricator General turned up in a smile. "So be it. Remember that it is not always a good thing to get what you wish for." The line went dark.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
It took only three weeks for a ship to arrive in the Sian system, a mule dropship detached from the vessel and burned towards Sian II following the directions of Sian Traffic control with perfection. Even as the Legio Astorum waged war on another world Maximillian had felt trepidation at this meeting. The vessel coming towards them was entirely familiar, unmodified in any way their escorts could determine.
With no ceremony the dropship was landed at the primary spaceport, surrounded by the Red Lancers. He refused to go anywhere near the spaceport, and his own craft was ready for an emergency departure. He instead continued to watch the monitors as the main cargo door of the Mule lowered to the ground and the first units of infantry moved in, weapons raised to their shoulders. And stopped almost as quickly as the sight they beheld. A cargo bay with almost seventy people in it, but not people.... not people anymore. The leader of the unit moved up to the closest and issued his demands for an explanation, or information. The modified being failed to answer. But Maximillian heard the being who did respond.
"Colonel. You will cease badgering the Servitor. You are not on its authorised command list."
"Servitor?" He asked dumbly as the not-quite human moved from the upper gantry. Maximillian frowned as he watched the monitor, servitor was the caste of non-citizens, chattel in and of themselves. The Colonel looked around as the cyborg man blurted something mechanical and in lockstep every single one of the modified beings began to march forwards. "Stop! Stop them!"
"I will not. Chancellor Maximillian Liao ordered the return of his nobles from the cities on Betelgeuse where they were claimed by the Tithe. In fact, he threatened war, I have been sent to return those nobles as we were instructed to return. Now, remove yourself from our dropship. A device was passed to the Colonel. "This is a datapad with the instructions for care and operation of Servitors."
"You will stop them! Now!" The Colonel grabbed the cyborgs right arm and raised his weapon in his other hand. Maximillian nodded, just as well. The...
It happened too quickly for Maximillian to see, and he quickly called up the camera from another of his men down there and backtracked the footage. As soon as the Colonel had grabbed the cyborg, a tentacle had zipped over its shoulder, with a long pointed end and driven straight to the base through the Colonels eye, the tip of it emerging from his skull. The body didn't drop, suspended on the tentacles spike. A hand came out and plucked the device the Colonel had been handed from under his armpit where he had shoved it to confront the Cyborg.
"You there." The Cyborg said, stepping forwards, towards the three rifles pointed at him, he thrust the device at his chosen soldier. "Take this to your leader. He very specifically demanded the return of his nobility. So deliver on it." The soldier was terrified as the Colonels corpse slowly slid off of the tentacles spike. The soldier took the device with terror making his hands shake.
Maximillian Liao activated the comms to allow the soldier to hear him. "Detain that creature, do not allow him to depar..."
The comms barked with static for a second before the cyborgs voice broke into the channel. "Maximillian Liao. You will not be detaining me, you have made a request, most generously the Fabricator General has granted your request. If you attempt to detain me I have been instructed to warn you that while my Dropship is an unarmed standard model mule. I do have one of the six gigaton warheads from a Hulkbreaker torpedo sitting in the cargo hold. If I am detained or removed from this vessel. It will detonate immediately. If this Dropship remains here longer than thirty minutes. It will detonate immediately. Your choice. Your nobles. Or an apocalypse."
Maximillian hesitated... unable to answer for several minutes. "Let them go." He snarled. "Bring me my people."
And thus the inner sphere learns what a servitor actually is, and it horrifies them.