• The site has now migrated to Xenforo 2. If you see any issues with the forum operation, please post them in the feedback thread.
  • An addendum to Rule 3 regarding fan-translated works of things such as Web Novels has been made. Please see here for details.
  • Due to issues with external spam filters, QQ is currently unable to send any mail to Microsoft E-mail addresses. This includes any account at live.com, hotmail.com or msn.com. Signing up to the forum with one of these addresses will result in your verification E-mail never arriving. For best results, please use a different E-mail provider for your QQ address.
  • For prospective new members, a word of warning: don't use common names like Dennis, Simon, or Kenny if you decide to create an account. Spammers have used them all before you and gotten those names flagged in the anti-spam databases. Your account registration will be rejected because of it.
  • Since it has happened MULTIPLE times now, I want to be very clear about this. You do not get to abandon an account and create a new one. You do not get to pass an account to someone else and create a new one. If you do so anyway, you will be banned for creating sockpuppets.
  • Due to the actions of particularly persistent spammers and trolls, we will be banning disposable email addresses from today onward.
  • The rules regarding NSFW links have been updated. See here for details.

Battletech: The Ork Invasion of 3020 (WH40K/B-TECH Crossover, CYOA Gone Horribly Wrong)

Created at
Index progress
Incomplete
Watchers
10
Recent readers
78

Summary: It is the year 3020. There is little time. Alien forces gather in the dark. The quarrels of the House Lords and Periphery nations shall end. The Clans return to human space at long last. Comstar burns its once holy shroud. All must stand together before the green tide.
Prologue: The Beginning New

Titanicmark2

Getting out there.
Joined
Sep 13, 2021
Messages
17
Likes received
83
February 2, 3020
Free World's League Capital, Atreus
Captain-General's Parliament Office
Early Afternoon

73645d145d118769feaf89d7ec767b59.jpg

The day's work had begun in earnest. There were plans to prepare, arguments to mediate and a nation to maintain. Another typical, standard day managing the Free Worlds League. Parliament would reconvene to discuss the aftermath of Archon Steiner's peace proposal again tomorrow, with an expected length of 10 hours. Another session of Parliament arguing and discussing the same points they had made last session.

Lunch had come and go too quickly. Captain General Janos Marik left the mostly finished meal off to the side. Perhaps there would be time to have the rest later before evening. He indulged in some idle sips of coffee as he worked.


"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

The Captain-General nearly bit his tongue as the office alarms suddenly blared. [No…] Raid Alarms. He froze, fingers paused mid key-stroke. A raid? Janos looked up from his noteputer. On Atreus itself!? The leather chair squealed as he shot up. His mind quickly went to a darker place. No one would attack the capital world of the Free Worlds League without a truly staggering force. And help from the inside. How much damage would this force deal to Atreus, and what would have to be done in retaliation? He squashed the errant thought as the security detail barged into the room. Plans for retaliation would come later. Guards and a small number of SAFE agents flooded into the office, appointed SAFE liaison James Leblanc at their head.

The liaison looked pale. There was a wild, barely suppressed panic in his eyes. A dark pit grew in Janos' gut. This was the most perturbed he'd ever seen the man. Not even Anton had shaken Leblanc this much.

SAFE would handle securing the office. They would catch up after their work was done. "Report," he demanded as the guards parted. Leblanc walked alongside him as the full detail formed around them, secretarial staff close behind. The SAFE agent took out a tablet, displaying an unknown vessel and SAFE's gathered data.

The image was grainy, most likely taken from a far distance via satellite. It had a hard, unforgiving rectangular shape, with little to no visible curves or round edges. The front was the only exception. A slightly curved block, marginally taller than the main body of the ship. From prow to stern, it was covered in golden decorations and unknown red iconography. Empty gray cogs prominently sat among the designs. A singular colossal cannon sat exposed atop the front of the vessel. Large three barreled turrets were clustered near the front and back of the vessel on all four sides, with seldom few for the center. Instead, a quartet of large sunken cannons lined both sides of the ship near the center. [Fixed broadside guns?]

[5.5 billion km from Atreus, and approaching at an estimated 1.05 G's…] The vessel was approaching from above the Atreus system. That was far. Outside the edge of the system far. Much too far for any kind of successful raid. Another jump deeper into the system? Reconnaissance?

"This vessel appeared approximately 5 hours ago, with no detectable emergence signature, in a purple flash of light." Leblanc stammered, erratically swiping through the report. A video played. In the void of space, a yawning swirling purple circle appeared. The vessel ponderously emerged. Trails of purple lighting raked up and down the ship. An ovoid shimmering purple field flickered around the ship before disappearing.

Before he could even respond to that alarming detail, Leblanc switched to a different dataset. Whatever Leblanc wanted to say, he couldn't get it out, eyes darting up and down as he mulled over the information. Janos suppressed his growing frown, turning away from the increasingly distraught man. The agent was barely able to keep himself together. "Captain General. The vessel is…is an estimated 16 kilometers long," the man admitted.

He turned back so hard he stumbled, arms pinwheeling to regain balance. A guard neatly caught Janos and helped him to his feet. It was barely noticed as they made their way to the Palace's Command Center. What? Had he heard that correctly? "Agent Leblanc, please repeat that," Janos asked calmly. Some of the guards, most of his secretaries and Leblanc flinched as his voice echoed down the halls. Perhaps his ears had decided to spontaneously stop working. The metal…the material cost alone would be astronomical. If it were that large, then…The cannons on that vessel would have to be the size of jumpships. Maybe even larger.

His blood froze. It took effort not to just fall down and stay there, waiting for this strange nightmare to end. Goosebumps rode up and down his body as he came to a stop. "SAFE and the Ministry of Communication have confirmed it. Multiple times. It has not responded to any hails-" Leblanc was still speaking, and for the life of him, he couldn't hear a word of it.

The Free Worlds League was in danger. An unknown vessel, likely massing more than the entirety of the League's jumpship fleet, would soon breach the Atreus system. Atreus itself was under the potential threat of total orbital bombardment. SLDF was the first answer that came to mind. Could even they make such a vessel? Aliens? Another power? He was panicking.

!

Janos took a deep breath, held it, and closed his eyes, taking care to keep his face composed. Leblanc stopped talking, mid-sentence. As the discomfort built in his chest, he exhaled, and mostly stuffed the panic and fear away. In the newfound silence, he quickly considered his options.

Order the stock market frozen to prevent a crash. Resolution 288. At the very least. The furthest use of it since the fall of Star League. There could be no room for conflict from the members of the League. Immediate activation of nuclear stockpiles. Deterrent at best, the only choice at worst. Was there anything else that could be done immediately? It would have to do. The Free Worlds League needed him. He started to walk again.

"Johnson." The secretary stiffened at his name being called. "Contact the Ministry of Trade. Have the stock market frozen and have them prepare to deal with the aftermath. Has Speaker Steward determined the state of Parliament?" Janos asked Leblanc. Hector Steward had only held the position of Speaker of Parliament for 2 or so years, and as a mid-session appointment after the sudden death of Stephanie Alvarez. Just barely enough time to deeply establish himself even as the Earl of Steward.

With Parliament due to reconvene tomorrow, there was a chance they may be nowhere near the Palace.

"Only 35% of Parliament is confirmed present in the building Captain General," Leblanc replied, his eyes widening in realization. "Then in that case," Janos intoned, turning back to his staff. "Inform all members of Parliament, that in this unprecedented time of crisis, under Resolution 288, I, Captain-General Janos Marik assume all powers and authority necessary to protect the Free Worlds League, its people, and its interests.

I hereby declare a state of emergency. Contact the Ministry of War, they are to prepare all nuclear weapons on Atreus and to have all military forces on Atreus prepare to repel any potential invasion." He made sure to emphasize the potential.

The return to the ever-present politics was ironically a helpful balm on his nerves. He was more than familiar with that than this.

Agent Leblanc's noteputer chimed. The screen shifted to display a message. In fact, as Janos looked closer, it was from the Director of SAFE. VESSEL HAS JUMPED. VESSEL IS NOW 4,000 KILOMETERS DIRECTLY ABOVE ASTREUS NORTH POLE. It proclaimed.

The Palace Alarms suddenly blared. Outside he could even hear the city's sirens scream and bellow.

The guards flinched. One took out his earpiece. The secretaries and staffs' devices began to ring. Even his personal phone. He fished out the ringing device, cheerfully singing the national anthem. 'Unknown Number' his phone unhelpfully displayed. Warily, he answered the call. Beep.

A deep echoing metallic voice spoke, cutting through the deafening alarms.

"This is the Indomitable Spirit, last surviving vessel of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Humanity is no longer alone in the galaxy. Hostile alien life confirmed! I REPEAT, HOSTILE ALIEN LIFE CONFIRMED!"

[-----------------]

February 2, 3020
Atreus Comstar Station
HPG Control Center
Afternoon

"How soon until we can broadcast!" Precentor Atreus demanded. "10 minutes Precentor," the technician responded as she and her staff frantically prepared the HPG for another broadcast. Even now ROM was frantically collecting any data it could gather. The Precentor suppressed another curse. He had elected to send a message immediately to the First Circuit, ensuring that if the warship was hostile and did bombard Atreus, some news would reach Comstar. He didn't expect it to somehow jump to right outside Atreus' orbit. They may need to send even more as the situation evolves.

The crowds of officials and people frantically sending their own priority messages wasn't helping either. He'd need to impose a limit if Atreus' population continued this kind of pace. His station wasn't supposed to be due for replacement parts for at least 2 months.

Sending so many successive HPG messages so quickly might very well cripple the station. Hopefully, Blake willing, his haste wouldn't cause irreparable damage. He quickly made his way to a nearby wall phone, navigating the clustered control center as the flustered technicians worked. There was nothing he could do but wait as the minutes agonizingly passed.

A few questions with the observatory and the ROM office revealed no actionable intelligence. The vessel had not oriented its massive weapons towards Atreus, nor had it made any moves after its no doubt Sphere-shattering broadcast, holding 4,000 km above Atreus' North Pole. Aliens. The thought was hard to reconcile. Hostile entities, capable of ending whatever civilization could build things like the "Indomitable Spirit".

The name only brought more concerns. He vaguely knows about the old adage. Of the "indomitable human spirit", and humanity's ability to defeat any problem, no matter how difficult or how long. It said much about the people who had made the vessel. To him, they had accepted that they had lost, but would not give up. And now, what did they do? They had come to the Inner Sphere. To drag them into this war.

[Blake help us all.]

[-----------------]

February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit,
Indomitable Spirit Command Deck
Afternoon

The magi reported a successful transmission on all frequencies. Hopefully this would end…hmmm. 'Well' wasn't the right word. I tsk'd at the thought, my new metal voice echoing through the silent bridge.

Slowly the many tubes and wires connecting me to the command throne detached. My awareness lessened. The connection between myself, the Indomitable, and the 660,000 remaining crew closed. Once again I saw only through my own eye. The cybernetic eye whirred and clicked as it reconnected to my nervous system. It finished with one final brief spark of pain behind the false eye.

I made my way up from the throne, taking care not to scratch it anymore than I had with my claws. They would need to be changed to more friendly appearing appendages. The three mechadendrites connected to my power pack and by extension my back idly flexed in the air. Only one mechadendrite on the surface. Anymore and I would make a fool of myself. Managing a mechadendrite was like using an arm with twice the fingers and joints, requiring a great deal of attention and practice to properly use. The various screens adorning the bridge switched to Atreus.

I took a brief moment to admire the view. The sight from here was beautiful. I had to orient the ship so that its main guns wouldn't face the world below, but the cameras mounted on the "underside" would suffice. I saw the glittering lights on Atreus' dark side and the slow movement of jumpships, dropships and all manner of spacecraft fly through the void of space. All with the rising run in the background. Admittingly most of them were flying away from here in case any fighting broke out, but it was still nice.

With a mental command, I saved the 'memory' of the event. I would be able to enjoy the moment again, when if I ever needed a little pick me up. One of the very few benefits with having 10% of my brain replaced with machinery. Soon, I would request an opportunity to land and brief the Captain-General on the Orks. The materials and falsified evidence were all waiting in the landers, fully fueled and ready. The magi would send the pre-recorded message in 10 minutes. In the meantime, I would head to my quarters/medical lab, and switch to a more acceptable appearance.

I swiftly boarded the small hover craft waiting outside the bridge and made way towards the service train running up and down the ship. The craft dipped slightly at my weight and the archmagos piloting it, but it reported that the craft would still be able to make the journey.

And then, the real work would begin.

Helm. Damned Helm. Everyone else just stole the stupid fucking thing and dropped it on Katrina or Hanse, but I couldn't do that. The Free Worlds League, Capellan Confederation and Federated Suns sat on the southern border of the Inner Sphere. They were most likely to be attacked first by the Orks. I had to distribute the Helm Core, somehow.

I still couldn't reach a decision on it. I didn't know the full geopolitical situation in the Inner Sphere and Periphery. It would be so easy to simply seize the cache and mass distribute it to every power that I could, Holy Shroud be damned. But what if the Great Houses went to war? What if Comstar panicked and interdicted everyone? That would leave, uh, the Clans as the next organized and (mostly) unified polity. I shuddered at the thought. The idea of fully supporting those eugenics raving lunatics almost made what little skin I had left crawl.

The only other option was to hold it hostage. To turn it into leverage. Force anyone who wanted it to come to Terra and sign a ceasefire agreement. Which I would need to enforce if I couldn't convince Comstar to help. Twisting their arms like that would leave me few friends and nothing to really stop them from breaking it and going to war anyway.

The mindwiped magi were no help either. The only advice they seemed to come up without "sufficient enough" data was just threaten them all and slowly seize the Inner Sphere's means of production over the next 2 centuries. Maybe supplant Comstar in the meantime.

And worst of all, my own material needs. I needed support, of some kind. With another mental command, I pulled the files the magi had painstakingly assembled and reviewed, over and over again. Six months, if I held on till the very end. That was it. The maximum time before this ship would be a drifting broken down hulk. Empty. Unable to jump. Unable to fight. A ticking time bomb filled with horrors and unreplaceable machinery.

The thought of it all made the world feel small. It made me feel small.

[Prologue End.]

Story can also be found on sb, where it is completely up to date (Link here). I'll be posting the rest here when I have spare time.
 
Informational: Current Loot at Beginning of Story (Subject to minor changes/expansion) New
1. The Indomitable Spirit: A Frankenship from a number of Mechanicus classes.

The Indomitable is 16 kilometers long, 3 kilometers wide and 2 kilometers tall. The vessel is primarily equipped with a 1.5 kilometer long Novacannon along the top, 40 long range energy lance turrets (12 on the top and bottom, 8 on the sides) and 4 broadside cannons on each side. Its databanks have been carefully edited to remove any mention of the Imperium and by extension anything from Warhammer 40k

While lightly armed in comparison to other vessels in Warhammer 40k, the Indomitable makes up for it in sheer carrying capacity. There are hundreds of storage areas and 4 colossal hangers to carry and offload numerous vessels of any size present in the Inner Sphere,

It features:
An enhanced Warp Drive and Gellar field. Requiring no astropaths or Astromicon to make accurate and safe warp travel.
-Max Distance: 500 light years in a single, instantaneous jump. Able to jump twice a day without repercussions.
A mass teleportarium, capable of teleporting 6,000 tons of material, up to 20,000 kilometers.
Four Titan drop pods, capable of independent non-ftl space travel.
Twenty Configurable Mass Production Factory Lines (Currently quened to a number of signature technologies)
Moderate Scale Cloning Bay (Empty)
-Capable of producing 10,000 clones a year.
Expanded medical and cybernetics facility
Darktech holding cells (Max Capacity)

The craft has had all extreme mechanicus iconography removed.

The changing of servo skulls to squat floating disks is still ongoing, despite priority status. Expected end date: 3025.

2. Two Warlord Class Titans: The Ion Rex and Protean Wrath.

Standard Warlord Titan loadout, with additional equipment available in storage. The pair will be renamed upon the formation of a new Intergalactic Organization.

3. Enhanced Computer Systems: The Command Node

The backbone of this vessel. The assigned Captain can control all networked mechanicus personnel and maneuver the vessel by themselves. Features a darktech computing system, derived from Votaan technology. Requires a direct invasive connection to use.

4. Mechanicus Data Packet

The Protagonist has been given innate knowledge of certain mechanicus technologies.
In order of quality:
Cybernetics: Near Total Mastery
Astronavigation: Advanced
Computer Sciences: Advanced, with exceptions.

Medicine/Biology: Proficient
Physics: Proficient
Materials/Chemistry: Proficient

All other fields: Extreme Amateur, passing knowledge

5. Complete Star Map of the Entire Inner Sphere, established Periphery, a significant portion of the deeper Periphery (up to 1000 light years) from current Inner Sphere borders, and Clan space prior to 3000.

6. The Expanded Argos Super Lostech Map and Database, detailing every SLDF and Amaris cache prior to and after the Amaris Coup and SLDF Exodus.

7. Complete Helm Core Location and Security Access Data

8. The Blank Slate:

A de-aging Primarch, who will lose all previous memories after 40 years in its de-aging chamber. In the event of premature release, the Primarch will retain all prior memories and return to a fully grown state. It is Perturabo.

9. Iron Warriors Squad (10)

While just as brain dead and effectively lobotomized as the rest of the mechanicus staff, they are still Astartes. There is no medicae, blank, psyker or techmarine among their number.

10. Last Minute Changes:

The Protagonist or a designated agent may return to the CYOA screen once and make additional boon purchases. Enhanced costs for new boons.

11. Cleaned up Orks:

The Orks have no recollection of the Imperium. The ork's scrap vessels have no chaos daemons or living creatures from any other Warhammer faction, with the exception of trophies or looted equipment.
 
Informational: Imperial Names Changed to better fit in New
Will expand as the story progresses

Servo-skull>Servodrone
Servitor>Unnamed to avoid aggravating Capellan Confederacy, and mostly erased from files

Abhuman>Variant
Ogryn>Giant
Ratling>Halfling

Imperial Guard>(The) Guard
Imperial Knight>Knight
Sisters of Battle: Disbanded. Integrated into the Guard.
Office of the Commissiariat: Disbanded. Integrated into the Guard.

Imperial Cult: Disbanded. Removed from records
The Inquisition: Concealed from records.
 
Informational: State of the Adeptus Mechanicus at Story Start New
The databanks and personnel aboard the Indomitable carry millennia of Ork combat data. Lacking any true explanation for the data, Malcador was forced to conduct extensive combat operations to provide a plausible source of the data and to further scout the Ork forces.

After 5 months of operations, the surviving Imperial and Mechanicus forces have been gutted in exchange for vital infrastructure attacks and data collection.

Total losses of standard front line forces: 2,150,000
Approx 931,000 Mechanicus Armed Forces
Approx 537,00 techpriests
Approx 351,000 Imperial Guard
Approx 63,000 Sisters of Battle
Approx 268,000 crewmembers/menials
Many, many servitors

Special War Assets Lost:
Total Specialist losses: Approx 113,180

Approx 72,000 High Ranking Magos
Approx 41,000 War Automata
Approx 367 Knight Platforms and accompanying retinue/equipment (Chance of Ork Salvage high)

5 Elite Ordo Xeno strike teams (100 total, completely wiped out)
18 Vindicare Assassins
60 (All) Eversors
8 Culexus Assassins
Perturabo's Armor (Salvage in storage)

Superheavy vehicles:
1 Warhound Titan (Confirmed Entirely Destroyed)
1 Reaver Titan (Confirmed Extremely Damaged, 68% destroyed before evacuation)
19 Baneblades/Variants (At least 9 have been "Looted")
2 Deathstrike mobile platforms
5 Capital Imperialis

Astartes Assets:
40 Iron Warriors
2 Mastodon Heavy Transports
8 Fellblade Superheavy tanks (3 Completely destroyed)
2 Astraeus Superheavy tanks (1 Completely destroyed)
1 Contemptor Dreadnaught
2 Leviathan Dreadnaughts (1 pilot recovered)

Estimated 42 million Orks in planetside operations
Estimated 1 million Orks in orbital bombardment strikes
Estimated 15 million Orks in space operations

77 Mass production 'facilities' (Defined as factories capable of producing substantial war material for Ork Wagh)

Ork Critical Assets
6 Gargant factories (Totally destroyed)
8 Reaver/Warlord Titan equivalent Gargants (4 Totally destroyed)
31 Warships (9 were Capital ships)
3 Shipyards
Entire Leadership of "Weirdboyz" on 2 planets
All major Warbosses and over 60% of Lieutenants on 4 planets

Ork Composition:
Largely mixed composition. All 6 Main Ork clans observed. All main variants of Orks observed in high numbers. Currently imbalanced ratio of Ork leadership to boys after operations.

Significant number of Ork warships possess weak Void Shields. Behemoth site of major Ork fighting. Over 70% of Ork fleet assets last seen fighting over it, 6 weeks before departure to Inner Sphere.

Remaining Mechanicus Forces:
Mechanicus Armed Forces: Approx 205,000
Imperial Guard: Approx 27,700
Sisters of Battle: Approx 10,100 (Transferred to Guard)
Hammer Divisions (Augmented Ogyrn): Approx 10,300
Knight Pilots: Approx 500

Inquisitors: 10
Inquisition Agents: 80
Imperial Assassins: Total 80
34 Vindicare
15 Callidus
11 Culexus
20 Venenum

Legionnes Astartes
10 Standard Iron Warriors
1 Leviathan Dreadnought
Perturabo: In stasis

Dark Mechanicus: 200
Psykers: 20
Blanks: 40

Knight Platforms:
Armiger Pattern: 54 Engines
Questoris Pattern: 132 Engines
Dominus Pattern: 35 Engines
Total Standard Knight Engines: 221 Knights

Ceratus Pattern: 21
Acastus Pattern: 2

Lexicanum of Imperial Knights

[------]

I don't think the numbers are to off for what something like the Indomitable Spirit. I used Manhatten Island as a comparison point since its has a similiar-ish profile to the Indomitable. Approx. 59.13 square kilometers with a population of 1.69 million.

A number of evacuees from the fleet managed to board the Indomitable before it had to flee from the battle.

The Indomitable is 48.1 square kilometers at base, but its 2km high. With loses of 2.261 million and a surviving population of 660,000, the Indomitable carried almost 3 million people. The rest of the space is taken up by storage, the 4 main hangers, the factory lines, cloning bay, Darktech cells, and other space taking facilities.

So it should all round about for use of space. I don't want to get to dredged in volume and human "sardining", but a rough estimate on the Indomitable's carrying capacity will be important for how many Battletech regiments and dropships I can stuff onto it in the future.
 
Last edited:
Chapter 1: First Contact New
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit,
Indomitable Spirit Command Deck
Late Afternoon

Two hours or so after changing my augments to something less likely to get me mistaken for an alien myself, the League's response came, transmitted over a private channel they had forwarded to me. I elected to remain only partially connected to the complete command node and left the bulk of effort operating the ship to the magi.

The League's government required me to arrive with and enter the Parliament building with no more than 10 guards. Any vehicles or Battlemechs exiting my Lander would be taken as a hostile act. I was to be escorted to a Parliament Palace Landing Pad by no less than 50 Aerospace fighters and 3 dropships. All of this conveyed to me by one "Hector Steward, Speaker of Parliament". He sounded calm enough over the broadcast shortly following my jump into Atreus orbit.

I couldn't detect any hesitation or change in tone when he mentioned the Parliament. Curious. The magi had quickly detected the broadcasts declaring martial law. Unfortunately I couldn't position any satellites or the Indomitable itself over the location to have a look. The magi reported an excess of sensor sweeps pointed towards the ship.

A fair enough precaution. I had informed him that the most important alien samples I had recovered were mostly biohazards that would have profound effects on Atreus if they escaped and asked how they would like me to do with any physical evidence. To no surprise whatsoever when I responded to their request for elaboration with "extremely invasive spore particles that will overwhelm Atreus' biosphere and turn the planet into a hostile alien world", I was asked to refrain from bringing them to Atreus until the Captain-General and Parliament had made a decision. In fact, I was told to wait again. In hindsight, perhaps "will" was the incorrect choice, and may have made my response subtly threatening. Hopefully they would not attempt to "scrub me down" after I land.

I couldn't exactly lie about it either by omission or outright. There wasn't enough time to repair any potential damage to my reputation to stay an heeded voice in Galactic Affairs. I would need an iron tight reputation as a honest and fair individual. And besides that, no one could afford for a Great House's capital to become an ork world, especially one on the southern edge. Hammering in the danger of ork spores will be vital to any long term survival.

Another hour or so passed as I waited. I had decided to spend time going over my briefing, and what I was calling "The Helm Proposal".

One of the consoles lining the bridge beeped. The archmagos manning the station turned to me, speaking in the mechanicus' lingua technis. Ah, it was Speaker Steward.

"Indomitable Actual, this is Hector Steward. The Captain-General requests to instead meet aboard the space station Olimar. Transmitting coordinates now and revised landing instructions now."

Oh. That was a rather speedy decision. Worrying so for a divided polity like the Free World's League. From what I understood, the Captain-General while in theory the de-facto ruler, the position was more often than not hamstrung by the Parliament and the numerous competing interests in the Free World's League. Had the House Lord managed to successfully execute this little seizure of power?

"I accept your request Speaker Steward. I only ask you bring a number of your computer systems with you. I suspect our computer systems suffer a degree of technological divergence and will need to properly reformat my data."

[-----------------]

February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit,
Olimar Space Station
Soon to be early Evening

I was still held to the request (but really more a demand in order to proceed) of 10 guards. Five would be skitarii rangers, The rest would be the most... "normal" looking Archmagos among the upper ranks I could find. They would double as both my guards and staff. The skitarii and Archmagos marched in unison as I puppeted them aboard my ship, mechadendrites and all. The command node would have made this task simple, but I needed to spend as little time using that lethal machine as I could. The colossal gates of the landing bay silently slid closed as we departed.

191px-io1erlp3jp7auw9za10m8io1nco09br.png

The "Olimar" was a small, quaint station, sitting in orbit around Atreus, hanging almost directly above its capital city. My sensors detected a number of hidden patchwork changes and repairs made to the station itself. I had needed to change from my intended heavy duty lander to a repurposed and modified Astartes' Thunderhawk gunship. The main cannon and dedicated ammo bin were removed and replaced with a minor void shield and additional communications equipment. While I doubted myself or my staff could survive operating the craft at its maximum limits, the defensive profile was sufficient for my needs.

A small swarm of spacecraft hovered around the space station.

The number of Aerospace fighters, dropships and security measures had doubled. Presumably, the Captain-General himself was present. The ship softly rocked as it landed. Outside, I could hear the bay doors seal and the sharp hiss as oxygen was quickly pumped into hanger. It was almost disturbing how calm I felt. In a few short hours, I would plunge all of human space into chaos as I upended everything they knew and ushered what I could only call a second age of war. Actually...

[+]Query: Neural Regulator, Status.[+]

[-]Neural Regulator Routine: Running at 57% capacity. Stress Level appr-[+]
[]Sub-Routine Emotion Regulator: Running at 39% Capacity. Update: 40% Cap-[]

I closed the notification.

[+]Warning. Neural Regulator approaching 60% threshold. Inject formula 5-17 Y/N?[+]
[-]Override. Code: Summit level 2.[-]

[+]Command: Disable notifications, 10 hours. Override at 80% Stress Marker.[+]
[-]Implementing...Executed.[-]

If I failed to negotiate a joint retrieval of the Helm cache, I may end up fighting the Captain-General and his forces for the core. I evaluated the chances, calculating force projections, logistics and travel times. One of the Archmagi was directed to help me refine my projections. Was this why so many of the Mechanicus stayed so attached to their modifications? Working without them made me feel stupid. Numbers and thoughts came so slowly, and not entirely coherent over the long term either.

{Fabricator-General, the landing zone has been pressurized. Warning, the vessel is simulating gravity via centrifugal forces. This landing zone is under reduced centrifugal forces.} The Archmagos piloting the vessel warbled.

I logged the thoughts for reference at later time.

[-----------------]

Date Unknown
Hyperspace
Time Unknown

The compressed terabytes of information rocketed through space and perhaps, time. They had already passed the worlds closest to Atreus. Comstar adepts frantically forwarding the messages onto the next node in the HPG system. Attached pass-codes and authorization keys conveyed the dire seriousness of the data. Precentor Atreus' efforts could barely delay the frantic messages sent by the rest of Atreus' people that would soon follow. Concealing the information would be an impossible task.

By 6:10 pm Terran time, Comstar's data would close the final leg of its journey, and arrive on Terra.

By the next day, all within the Periphery and Inner Sphere would know.

[-----------------]

February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Battle Station "Olimar" dropship bay
Early Evening

Captain Brunner watched as the "Adeptus Mechanicus" delegation made their way across the cramped hanger. Guards, banners, decorations and the many other things needed to receive visiting diplomats had been quickly crammed into the loading bay. It was a small mercy that the already limited space on in the bay prevented any members of Parliament or nobility from attending in person.

Just within his peripheral vision, the diplomat meant to receive the Mechanicus' party stiffened. He couldn't blame the man. Brunner could only imagine how the rest of the guards behind him looked. The Captain-General's orders as their dropships frantically departed the spaceport had been clear. No signs of hostility. Nothing to offend them. Only engage if they attacked first. Atreus' and the Free World's League depended on it. It was hard to keep a neutral expression on his face.

They looked like something out of horror movie. Cybernetics. So many cybernetics. Not a single one them was untouched. Cables, eyes, wires, extra limbs, in one case a searchlight, mechanical tentacles and so many other moving parts jutted out of the delegation's red robes and their bodies. He wanted to give one of the guards lining the bay unable to conceal his growing disgust a glare.

Five of what were likely their guards behind them stayed behind and unloaded a small mountain of materials from their ship. Most ominously of all was a towering 3 meter (10 foot) tall gray coffin, bolted and sealed shut. An ugly neon green biohazard sign was painted onto the cover, with the words "Alien Sample 1: Subject 63" emblazoned underneath it.

One them stepped forward, the least inhuman of the group. It mostly stuck to a human shape, aside from a single thin mechanical tendril that wrapped around its right arm and a series of cables jutting out of the upper torso.

12dfe8b1ccf557f115cb859ce6a63a29.jpg

It [Was it a boy or girl?] rumbled a deep metallic "Greetings." That voice! The one that had blared over every communications device on Atreus. The Atreuian stock market almost crashed before the Ministry of Trade could completely freeze the market an hour later. Rumor had it that the Captain-General was considering a one day reset to the morning of for the day's trades and exchanges. Brunner was mid transfer down to Atreus with his crew for two days of leave when the speakers and their coms on the dropship blared that terrifying message.

He came to stop and shook the diplomat's hand before reaching for its skull mask.

b6a2a38b0bf54f3bf330cffdb940d3db.jpg

A lone tired eye surrounded by dark rings stared at them, almost hazily so. In contrast, the cybernetic eye glowed a bright blue. The rest of his face was behind a split light bronze and black mask. "I am the Chief Fabricator, leader of the Adeptus Mechanicus. My name does not translate well into Star League English. Please call me Malcador," he added.

His eyes slowly scanned the diplomat and the hanger bay. "How will you conduct the biohazard test before I meet with the Captain-General?"

Brunner stepped forward.

"Chief Fabricator Malcador," he carefully spoke, suppressing his flinch as the man's(?) eyes almost snapped towards him, the robotic eye making faint clicking sounds as it focused on him. While the "Chief Fabricator" had readily agreed to their demands for a biohazard screening before proceeding to the meeting, the full extent of how they would do so left much to be desired. The arguments over how far the tests would go between the relevant biohazard specialists, military commanders, and even SAFE's own divisions gone on until the last minute.

"Captain Brunner," He introduced himself. Another handshake, and he couldn't suppress the wince at the cold touch of metal. "I will be leading you and your party towards the testing site." Brunner barreled on, even as he felt the diplomats angry glare bore into him.

If the Chief Fabricator took offense, he showed none of it.

[-----------------]

February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Battle Station "Olimar"
Evening

A secured container of ork spores were carefully handed to them for direct comparison to my person. The thought of holding them in secure storage until a Terran summit had crossed my mind, but the desire to be as informative as possible won over.

I had informed the team that the spores were non-lethal to humans, but would expand and overwhelm most biospheres. More information would be forwarded during the meeting with the Captain-General. The complete biohazard tests had taken an hour. It was a small mercy I could just dull my sense of boredom as the technicians ran their tests and subsequent retests. Instead, I used the time to think, finalize my decisions and politely ignore their attempts to scan me and my augments.

Now, it was time. The final doors aboard the station opened, the burly guards parting for myself and guards.

My first thought, upon coming face to face with the Captain-General was that he was tired. Both physically and mentally. My augmetics indicated a number of concealed and unknowingly open signs of stress. [Elevated heart rate, concealed stress lines,] And most tellingly, the borderline excessively large steaming mug of coffee next to him. Despite that, there was a very hard edge to his eyes, a focus that admittingly disturbed me. His posture almost radiated a serious and controlled air.

He sat at the center of a large oval table, the long side running to his left and right. A number of officials sat next to him. Behind him was a small legion of dressed guards in Marik purple, all bearing very non-ornamental looking weaponry.

"Greetings Captain-General," I said, as I ordered my staff to attempt to fit into the plush seats as best they could. My own seat ominously creaked under my 130 kilogram (287 pound) frame. I pointingly ignored the minute sounds of fabric tearing as the metal augments on myself and my staff dug in.

"Before we begin, thank you for arranging to meet with me on such notice, and my sincere apologies for any disruption this may have caused you." Janos suppressed his response, as my scans quickly read the micro-expressions they could detect.

{+}Emotion Scanner: Anger, Irritation, Excess Stress. Estimated Accuracy-49%{+}

I continued. Hopefully the faux pas would be forgiven in light of the information I'm volunteering. Wasn't that how favorable negotiations were supposed to go? Listen to the speaker volunteer information while you hold your cards?

"I wish to inform you of the alien threat, the compensation I am wish to give for the inconvenience, and a proposal for a joint research and defense initiative. Which would you like to hear first?"

The Captain-General carefully considered my words before replying.

[Chapter 1 End]
 
Chapter 3: Briefing Room-Atreus New
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Olimar Battle Station, Briefing Room
Evening

Janos laid out his hands onto the table, and stared me right in my flesh and blood eye. "How long do we have?" He asked, the question rang out. I could see the tension into the room skyrocket. The stone faced officials stiffened up even more at his question. Their small group of writers and secretaries sitting to the sidelines watched us with hawkish stares. "Unknown. They could arrive tomorrow, next week or even a decade from now," I responded. Janos' eyes slightly narrowed, not quite glaring at me. A deliberate choice or accident? I suppressed a grimace at the Captain-General's apparent ire.

And more worryingly the alarming levels of disgust and hate I was detecting from many people in the room. Eight out of the fifteen guards, three of Janos' party and all but one of the secretaries were suppressing varying elevated levels of disgust, spiking especially when directly looking at...my face! My face and my staff's more obvious impacts. I thought the League's views of cybernetics was bad, but this was unnerving. There was context I was missing. Something I would need to find out. Was Helm already dead in the water if this is what I could expect from its people?

I quickly discarded thoughts of trying to appear more human. The wreck of muscle, circuitry and bone that was my old face was frankly more horrifying than the face plate I had donned.

Dammit. the only thing left to do was just go forward and hope Janos could keep them in line.

With a mental command, a modified servoskull, now a squat black disk, floated forward. I took a moment to consider how much newfound irritation I had with the things. Of the 4 billion servo skulls slowly being refitted to remove any human remains, only 20 million had been changed. I ran out of materials to keep changing the stupid things. I would need to rename them soon. The guards tensed at the slow drone's approach. It stopped just to my right and activated its hologram projector.

A simplified 2d map of the Southern Inner Sphere hovered above the tabletop, sans borders. Only the capital worlds on the map were present. The Southern border faced me, giving Janos a top down view. The view of the divided 5 colored circle moved south. Thousands of small white dots, signifying planets unknown to the League slowly passed. The marker denoting distance from Terra grew.

1000 lights years.

2000 light years.

At 2600 light years, the map stopped. Eight green dots appeared, scattered over a distance of mere light years.

"The Adeptus Mechanicus are a fleet based people. We abandoned our homeworld decades ago." The League officials responded with muted looks of disbelief. "My people have mainly stayed mobile, to better explore the stars," I answered. A League official finally broke their unified silence, a man in some kind of naval uniform, dyed purple with golden highlights. "How many vessels-"

Janos coughed, the completely fake kind. The completely obvious kind people did to interrupt someone.

When that wasn't enough, a pointed look was enough to make the officer finally back down. The Captain-General took a moment to take a long drink of his coffee. On some unspoken cue, the rest of his staff settled down. The Guards loosened the grip on their weapons just a tad.

"What are they," He questioned. An almost undetectable tinge of worry in his voice.

"A humanoid fungal race, currently unnamed." The hologram changed to an ork laying down on a metal slab, one I had dissected shortly following the frantic escape after my arrival in this universe. "Despite their visual similarities, you will find they have no genetic overlap with humanity, whatsoever."

A height chart was added for scale. "The average member of the race stands approximately 2.65 meters tall standing straight, but they are hunchbacked and rarely fully extend their legs. They are incredibly durable."

The hologram shifted to a series of tests I had conducted on orks I had..."grown".

"Under my studies, members of the species can easily survive temperatures down to -50 degrees and up to 120 degrees celsius with no visible change in health. They can survive in the vacuum of space for 10 minutes unaided, and five test subjects made a seemingly full recovery when rescued after 5 minutes. One had its head removed and promptly placed back on, with no assistance beyond medical staples. It was observed at full health, 20 hours later, with faint scaring. No biological weapon tested has been effective on subjects that can survive the initial affliction, with the exception of extensive neurological damage."

During the various tests, the xenologists among my staff concluded these orks were a hardier breed than normal. Thankfully nowhere near on the level of the Beast's, but worryingly close to Ghazghkull Thraka's elite forces. A mere offshoot in the vast cosmos of the galaxy.

With each successive test viewing Janos and his staff got paler and paler. "My god in heaven..." A suited man to Janos' far left murmured. The Captain-General himself fared no better, a complete look of horrified disbelief on his face. A officer seated next to the no-doubt disgraced naval commander furiously began writing down figures and...weapons platforms' details? I looked away. Best not to pry.

"The primary concern however is their physiology. All members emit spores as a constant process. As far as I have observed, it never stops and in the event of death any remaining spores are immediately released in one potent dispersal. The corpse's remaining resources turn completely to spore production. The aforementioned spores appeared on the hologram. An Archmagos to my right gently took out a sealed adamantium container, no bigger than a pencil case with a small glass opening and pushed it forward. The built in lights and microscope gave a deep showing of the few green flecks stored inside.

As the boxed was passed from around, I continued. "These spores are the greatest concern and a long term threat to any human civilization. They serve as the foundation for their entire ecosystem and reproduction process. However, after vigorous testing, we can confirm that spores do not behave in any manner similar to bacteria, viruses, or parasites. Inhaling, consuming or contact with the spores by themselves is not harmful to health."

The officials looked very much like they did not believe me. I didn't push the issue. They would, either by their own testing or first encounter with them.

"How do we destroy the spores?" An older woman to Janos' immediate right asked. She spoke with a surprising calm despite the unease the rest were undergoing. Scans indicated...a surprising level of control. She was in a state of surprise and fear, but managed to significantly suppress any external reaction.

"Heat. Spores have been observed completely breaking down under intense amounts of heat, with consistent and instantaneous results on all lifeforms at 190 degrees celsius. At this time, there are no other consistent methods of removal excluding weapons of mass destruction." Upon closer observation, the rest of the room seemed to give her much more respect then the officer from before. Another archmagos reported rising levels of irritation in Janos.

Who was this woman?

As if reading my mind she said: "Catherine Humphreys, a pleasure to meet you Chief Fabricator Malcador."

I perused my memory banks for a brief second.

"By any chance related to George Humphreys, first Speaker of Parliament?" I quickly responded, before the silence stretched to long.

"That is correct, Chief Fabricator."

Janos seized control of the conversation, not giving Catherine any attention whatsoever, even as she held a patient, dare I say faintly smug, smile. "How do the spores create more of them?"

"The spores quickly scatter in the air, settling wherever they land. They will quickly germinate, turning into a variety of fungi based flora. Either by themselves or with other spores. They will quickly form a unique biosphere, overwhelming any and all natural flora by simply out competeting them."

At my command, one of the magi circled the table, began handing out materials. Dataslates and painstakingly made reports were distributed to each member of the Free World's delegation. I politely ignored the various shudders and suppressed disgust as the magos passed. The Captain-General seemed to consider saying something when Catherine thanked the magos handing her a dataslate, but held his tongue.

Information that had eaten over two months of gathering and documenting. The games and books left much to be desired regarding the exact dangers of orks beyond the immediate physical threat they posed.

"After reaching a critical mass, the alien biosphere will undergo a joint metamorphosis. Underground pods containing various lifeforms will appear as the remaining flora evolve to more complex forms. All possible ecological niches are met by these lifeforms. The process then repeats until the aliens themselves form." A herd of hulking Squiggoths I observed during my raids appeared next on the hologram, roaming alien fields as grot overseers led the them. Unfortunately, I couldn't safely secure any.

I looked around the room. No spare computers of any kind. I mentally tsk'd. "Captain-General, were you forwarded my request for computer systems to analyze to reformat the data gathered?"

Janos looked up from his own dataslate. His brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes, you wish to begin such procedures now?" There was an unspoken question in his eyes, but I couldn't determine what he wanted to ask. There was to many potential questions he no doubt had.

"My staff are capable of reformatting the needed systems in a short period. They will work as the briefing continues."

I gently warbled the command codes and instructions at two of the archmagos to prepare the work as a trio of guards entered the conference room to presumably guide them. The preprogrammed responses and my own connection to directly puppet them should be enough to stop any incidents, I failed to convince myself. Another was tasked to shadow them from here and assist as needed.

My usage of the lingua technis had an unwanted effect on the meeting. Even as they kept their faces mostly clear to my eyes. The increased unease their bodies told me was informative. I was granted some leeway with my mad screaming about alien invaders and the warship in orbit, but now I had pushed to far. To them, I was almost as alien as the orks I was presenting them, not at all helped by the League's varying but common dislike of cybernetics. And I had just abruptly reminded them of it as we were truly getting into the juicy details. A mistake I would need to undo.

Perhaps it was time for a change of subject.

Just few more key details, and I would switch to Helm and New Dallas. The servoskull switched back to the 8 worlds I had brought with me. I scanned the table to see if any were still examining the data.

"The extreme durability of both members and spores makes any planet-fall they successfully commit, a long, but successful invasion of a subject world. In my people's travels there have been perhaps 3 world's with conditions that can support human life and repel alien lifeforms for a time. They are not pleasant to stay on." I warned. The discovery of Catachan 1000 light years into my journey gave me a heart attack. To both my dismay and ghastly benefit, there was no sign of human life on it. Not even a fortification or satellites. It was if the world had been reset to a pre-human state.

Just as the custom boon claimed. No imperial presence aside from my own.

{+}System Order: Archive last 10.5 seconds of thought.{+}
{-}System: Complying. Archiving. Complete.{-}

"These aliens do not age, and rapidly produce. From our calculations, most earthlike worlds would turn in a few short centuries, and would fall even faster if there were large bodies of water for cross continental travel. Any successful defense will leave a world's descendants fighting new alien incursions forever. And they will be incursions.

Of the 60 specimens I have successfully grown aboard the Indomitable, all have been hostile to human life, with no exceptions. Any attempts to bribe or appease with food, weapons or items of value merely delayed hostile attacks. They are effectively 'born' fully grown and ready for combat. This is not helped by the absurd size of their fleet." That earned me a scoff from the Janos. I paused for a moment. "Point taken, Captain-General," I responded, tilting my head in acknowledgement. It was unfortunate I was about to get to the worst of the news.

"My people came to these clusters of worlds following rapidly spreading radio signals. They attacked us immediately."

The Space Hulk hung in the air, easily 2 feet from the table, surrounded by over 600 vessels. It was labeled Behemoth. The warships looked like grains of rice compared to the apocalyptic Hulk. Planets and local stellar phenomena were added. Asteroid fields, a debris field, two moons and the colossal red star appeared. The ork world, a dark ball of green appeared behind the ork fleet. The mechanicus fleet, my fleet, numbering 20 sat on the western edge of the hologram. They were just as big as the Indomitable Spirit, who sat in the far back of the formation, then named the Herculean Effort.

The hologram changed one last time, my head still bowed.

The mechanicus fleet was now on the south east side of the system. Over 250 ork vessels were nothing more than wrecks, and the Space Hulk was battered, with a third of its mass gone. Only the Indomitable remained mostly untouched, fleeing to the system's north, with 30 ork vessels trailing it, slowly gaining. The rest of the fleet was in tatters, huddled around my former flagship, the Destiny Ascension. Despite its powerful weapons and shields, the ork vessels hemmed and circled it, even as they discharged thousands of boarding pods. A ball, eerily like a star, rapidly consumed the Destiny Ascension, the destroyed mechanicus vessels and nearby ork warships. The mass of star matter collapsed and in a brilliant flash detonated. By the end, only the Behemoth and approximately 140 warships remained. A visual shockwave and tide of debris roared across the system. The Indomitable entered warp travel, and the hologram froze.

Someone started crying, I did not look up to see who.

"I have told you all much. There is still more, but I will leave it to the full databases I am transferring to you. I shall change the subject matter to your compensation, and the joint research and defense initiative I wish to form to confront this threat."

[God this looks like a horrible sales pitch.] I hope they didn't see it that way. My staff stood up, and shuffled out of the room. "I can only divulge this to the Captain-General at this time, my apologies." I finally looked up, even as the shame threatened to drown me.

Janos nodded. To my surprise, he had begun to marshal his emotions.

{+}Emotion Scanner: High amounts of Determination. Outrage. Fear. 85% Accuracy.{+}

[Chapter 2 End]

End Notes:
  • In the FWL's past, Captain-General Gerald Marik had a known penchant for cybernetics. Due to his less than stellar (and later mentally unstable) rule, cybernetics have remained unpopular, and any non-necessary augmentations to the body are discriminated by League society as a whole. His heir, Elise Marik, was allegedly much the same. Their legacy has mostly tainted the perception of cybernetics, both socially and politically.
  • Catherine Humphreys is a famous figure in the FWL, and one of Captain-General Janos Marik's biggest critics. She has maintained this position for decades, and can be the one expected to always deny any request or proposal made by the Captain-General.
 
Chapter 4: The Helm Proposal New
February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Olimar Battle Station, Briefing Room
Evening

Guardsman Smith suppressed a grimace as he and the rest of the guards marched out of the meeting room, but for different reasons than the rest of them. Squad leader Kelly pressed a finger to her comm bead and listened in as her superiors no doubt discussed their assignment on the Olimar. They were too professional to say anything aloud at while on duty, especially with the Mechancius delegation just down the hall.

The red robed figures shambled and skittered back towards the hanger bay, swiftly leaving before the diplomatic party could make any attempts to speak with them. No. They turned to soon on their route. Were they heading to rendezvous with their companions working on the computers?

The aids and secretaries stayed in their own little corner of the hall. The politicians waited a moment just after they turned the corner before speaking. A flurry of observations and discussion as they compared notes, and...for a vocal few, personal impressions.

"Absolutely distasteful. Who would willingly replace their face with a mesh of wires," A diplomat quietly complained to an aging SAFE agent, who merely nodded in agreement.

Smith didn't look, but he could already imagine the suppressed looks of disgust and outrage on his fellow guards' and the politicians' faces. Their professionalism and the dire seriousness of a warship in orbit were the only the things keeping their dislike in check.

He didn't look forward to returning to their barracks when the rest of them would start their own tirades and objections. The Mechanicus had made a strange decision coming to Atreus first. The Free Worlds League never tolerated cybernetics after the horrible rule of Gerald Marik. Terra was a far more neutral and superior option.

Catherine Humphreys gravitated towards the navy, army and SAFE representatives as the three discussed military matters. Unfortunately their whispers were too quiet for him to adequately listen to.

"Why would they even ask us to leave!? There are cameras in the room!" Someone else whispered.

A good question. The risk of a assassination was uncomfortably high. Why would Janos Marik willingly engage in yet another risk was beyond him. The only protection he'd have in there would an automated turret in the ceiling and the SAFE operative in the concealed wall vent. It would take precious seconds for the guards to intervene if anything...undiplomatic happened.

Still, his orders from the local ROM administer and the Precentor were clear. In lieu of word from Precentor ROM and the Primus: observe, and get as best a look into the situation as he could. Precious favors, bribes, connections and more were burned to get him and the other 2 spies scattered aboard the Olimar this close.

[-----------------]

February 2, 3020
Atreus Orbit
Olimar Battle Station, Briefing Room
Evening

The door closed as the last of the guards marched out of the room. I used the time for the everyone to exit the room to calm myself, and allow my Emotion-Regulator to ease my mind into a more productive and more importantly stable state. Drowning in self pity would come much later, if ever. There was work to do.

I turned my head back to Janos. With a mental command, the drone turned off the hologram projector and swung to the left end of the table, awaiting further orders.

I slowly reached into my robes as Janos tensed. The jammer small a made a tiny clunk as I deposited it on the table. It was a small device, merely the size of a soda bottle, albeit more bulky. I wouldn't turn it on yet. Asking for privacy only to have the guards burst in after I jammed all of their surveillance systems would be damaging to this already fragile meeting.

I turned to the concealed wall went and my mechadendrite slowly indicated the hidden cameras and microphones with its laser pointer. "Is it possible for..." I trailed off, trying to inject a small tinge of genuine guilt back into my voice, both to not suddenly "break character" and the (very understandable, but sorely unhelpful) lack of trust. As entertaining as an actual vent sitting guard "in the goddamn walls" was, they had not left their spot. Was it a precaution, or was Comstar already making moves?

Power was diverted to my locator beacon. Worst comes to worst I may very well have to teleport Janos and myself off the Olimar to the Indomitable in the event of a bombing.

The Captain-General considered my words. he gave the wall a knowing look. After a silent few seconds he replied. "Unfortunately, no. How sensitive is this information?" So it was just one of his? Thank goodness. The drone activated its directed sound speaker. "Captain-General, can you hear me?" He suppressed a flinch, resulting in a small shudder, but didn't break eye contact. "Yes I can hear you, but a word of warning in the future." He formally protested.

"My apologies." I paused for a moment. "I wish to speak of why I came to the Free Worlds League first. I wish to discuss the end of lostech." Janos' eyes widened and he froze, completely still. When he made no move to respond, I continued, steadily dropping any hint of sadness.

"There is a cache and two data cores within your borders. One of the cores sits with a cache. With both of them, all losses of knowledge and technology are effectively over. Everything. Jumpships, warships, terraforming, double heat sinks, capital weaponry, casper drones, endosteel, mega-engineering principles, house Cameron exclusive medical technology, and all that made the Star League mighty. I aim to spread the knowledge inside these cores to everyone. Inner Sphere, Periphery, it does not matter who. To better prepare against the invasion, I plan to distribute a sizable portion of the cache to Federated Suns, Capellan Confederation, and southern Periphery nations.

I leaned forward, the table slowly creaking, but firmly holding under my weight. This time, my eyes bore down on the Captain-General, with all the authority I bared.

"I propose this, allow me to copy the cores, and I will guide you to them and disarm their protections and defenses. I will leave you first pick of 55% of the cache, with exceptions of rare technologies and samples for reverse engineering. I am willing to give you first access to a number of key Mechanicus technologies as well. There is one final thing I will distribute to the Free World's League and other nations, but it requires more time.

We can leave at any time. I have all of data needed to locate and secure them.

And after that, after the knowledge to defend ourselves is once again spread to every corner of human space, I will depart for a time to the Pentagon Worlds and the Kerensky Cluster to contact the descendants of the SLDF." I deactivated the directed sound speaker and spoke with my own voice.

"What say you?" With that final sentence, I stopped and leaned back into my seat. My piece was said. I watched the scanner output as his emotional spectrum ran rampant at what I had revealed.

The Captain-General stayed silent. Five minutes passed as he no doubt contemplated my offer.

He drank the rest of his coffee and softly exhaled, having made up his mind.

"Where are they?" he finally responded. There was a growing fervor in his eyes, a need and desire. I took a moment to keep my single tell, my eye, in check. It was no surprise he would want to know exactly where.

"One is on a lost dead world, the other is on a long standing Free Worlds' planet." I evadingly answered. Would he fish for greater concessions? A chance to take the cache for himself?

This reveal was unfortunately required. Helm had to be revealed. I long considered it before, and I was loathe to kill my chances with the Free World's League. An even greater concern was the message or even the perception that if the ends were enough I would go behind a nation's back and take what I wanted. The absolute worst thing he could do now was thank me and end the meeting.

But I had preparations for that. Not many, but they were firm enough.

The fact that we were under watch allowed me to avoid directly answering, but for how long? Janos glanced back at the drone.

Just as the drone booted up, Janos stood up. "Thank you for the information and your offer, Chief Fabricator Malcador. I believe we have a deal. Provided you give me a tour of the Mechanicus' catalogue of goods beforehand." He said. I almost sank back into my chair in disbelief. Just like that?

The simple acceptance made me worry more than if he demanded even more.

"What date do you have in mind?" I conceded, I could see the growing stress lines and marks of fatigue despite his seemingly newfound sense of energy. The promise of an end to lostech and contacting the "SLDF" might be the only thing keeping him fully awake.

"Two days from now, February 4th." He quickly responded. We shook on it, and concluded our meeting. All that was left was a gifts and to deliver the "goods".

We both exited the meeting room, with Janos in the lead. There were no small number of looks of relief sent his way, and a small round of polite applause when he announced that he had reached a deal with the me, pending some more negotiations. My announcement of materials to help further their knowledge and gifts as thanks to Janos was meet with suspicion.

The materials were first. The ork corpse and samples of bioforms were quietly hauled off before we arrived at the hanger.

A large case in the back of the Thunderhawk was unsealed. A suit of customizable power armor was presented, alongside a rosarius and a number of luxury goods. Hopefully the intended message of the Mechanicus as capable peers and possessing talents off the field of battle wouldn't be too twisted by the Free Worlds League's media.

I had debated giving a power sword, but held back. It may be better to just save it for the Coordinator. I'm sure power swords would do well with them. Katrina, Janos, Hanse and Maximillian did not strike me as swordsman types. I was reasonably sure I could never go wrong with a katana when gift giving with the Draconis. I'm sure that wasn't too racist, right?

The gems and exotic fabrics had the least impact, but they at least one or two were impressed with the sheer craftsmanship that went into the 1 foot tall diamond shaped natural amethyst with the League's symbol stylishly carved onto it. My experts remarked that is a literal one in a trillion find even amongst the vast Imperium. By comparison both the power armor and rosarius were much more well received. Especially after I had the suit lift large blocks of metal and I used the rosarius to stop a punch from a skitarii.

We shook hands as for some pictures taken by the his staff. I noted how he seemed to make himself seem not overly pleased with this meeting. For the public, a message to me, or both? I could not say.

As we prepared to depart, Janos and his representatives to a round of biohazard testing and myself to pick up my staff, I made bid them farewell.

{+}Query: Conversion Team Status?{+}
{-}Conversion Team: "Free World's League" cogitators completely unsuitable for data transfer. Conclusion: Systems extremely inadequate in all parameters for exabyte data transfer. Conversion programs complete, no delays.{-}

[-----------------]
February 3, 3020
Atreus
Parliament Landing Pad
Very Early Morning

After a long exhausting round of tests he had finally returned to Atreus.

Janos only gave the wall of yelling news casters and demanding politicians a promise he would give a full public announcement after he had all the details and that for now he had been given reasonable proof of hostile aliens, but of course he would have it extensively tested.

To their credit the Parliament guards had managed to successfully hold back the small but enthusiastic crowd. Even if it had gotten worryingly close as he initially exited the dropship.

He made no mention of it, but the corpse and samples were to remain in orbit, the Chief-Fabricator's warning all too clear. A testing facility would be built elsewhere.

A quick look through the tiny slide window at the gargantuan corpse was enough to mostly convince him they were real. There was a genuine savagery in the alien's face, a hostile animal-like impression that it wouldn't hesitate to rip him in two if it was still alive.

Combined with the initial examinations made by the biologists he had brought, the certainty of Malcador's claims were likely true. Aliens were real, they were hostile, and they would be coming to the Inner Sphere. Sometime.

And made all the more complicated by the cores. Cores, plural. the cache was of value, but if what he promised was true...[An end to lostech.] The offer was most definitely made from a place of desperation. It was all too clear from Malcador's actions, even if he had all the physical tells of a rock.

The frantic need to get the information to him, even at the cost of diplomatic processes and real damages he had inflicted on Atreus and the Free Worlds League economy, of which he would relishly bill the Mechanicus. Why else would he immediately broadcast on an open channel to force his hand? Why else would he give him the offer of a lifetime just to move things along? Why else would he dump exabytes of data on him without any trade or cost? Yes, that desperation would be a good handle to work the Chief-Fabricator. And if he was planned this correctly, his no-doubt all to real supplies issue as well.

Starting with his technology. Non-k/f drive technology, energy shielding, power armor, (politically unusable, but still) advanced cybernetics, foreign materials and who knows what else?

[-----------------]
February 3, 3020
Atreus
Atreus Orbit
Midnight

The Thunderhawk rumbled through the void with all the grace the flying brick could muster.

At this stage there was very small chance for overt hostile acts from the League. The deal was signed, I had hopefully conveyed the scale of the threat, and more importantly, the Indomitable was still in orbit.

I would rest for a while. It would be sorely needed. Tomorrow I contact Comstar, the other House Lords and most of the Periphery powers. Messages to the HPG station would be sent as soon as I returned to schedule the meeting and contact the their diplomats on Atreus.

I would invite Precentor Atreus and perhaps representatives from the other houses aboard to brief them. If I could receive Comstar's official support of my claims, preparing for the invasion would be much simpler.

The more depressingly hard task would be asking Precentor Atreus in no uncertain terms what worlds Comstar wants hidden on the Agros map. There was a wealth of lostech scattered across the Periphery and Inner Sphere even after the Amaris Coop and SLDF exodus.

All on top of somehow convincing him/her I had no idea about Holy Shroud.

[Chapter 3 End]

Ending Notes
  • According to some brief research I did long after I made this chapter, amethyst hunks aren't very rare at all. You can find them today. The largest one in history is over 2.5 tons. This rare perfect specimen was intended to politically showcase the Adeptus Mechanicus's wealth. The cut is perfect, and matches all the general hallmarks of a valuable piece of jewelry, but that only raises the value so much. I must change it to another valuable purple gemstone later,
 
Back
Top