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Post by Hyper Kinetic on Jun 9, 2008 11:33:26 GMT
And so, here is my first piece for here... with some of my own thoughts afterwards. Apologies to mods for the double post as well but i think that, given the completely separate nature of this bit, it should have been split in two... forgive me if you do not think so.
First up, a piece of Necron related fluff (and a big hex goes out to Dawn of War for bringing me back to Necrons as my current army of choice... I have hardly started on my Tyranids!)
*****
The Fall of the Necrontyr
Lacayon, High Vizier of the Necrontyr home world, sat in rigid admiration of the being that had just appeared before him. This was no ordinary visitor but one of the C'Tan, the star gods that his kind worshipped. Below the neck, it appeared relatively humanoid, but its head had two large windswept fins of flesh on either side as well as one on the top. The middle of the forehead held what may have been mistaken for a giant vertical gash if it wasn't so perfectly formed. It ordinarily would have towered over Lacayon but it floated nearly to the roof of his tall office and made itself appear more impressive, another sign that it was a god among the gravity-restrained beings.
“Mephet'ran, the Messenger...” He was only able to whisper in honoured adoration of this unexpected visitor.
“Greetings, Lacayon. I wish to converse with you on behalf of all of the gods.” Its voice held command and poise.
Lacayon stood and offered the being a seat. It fluidly shifted its form to one that would be able to sit down in the chair, though it retained much of its former features.
“Please, do tell what you wish to talk about.”
“I wish for you to organise a meeting of the Grand Conclave.”
Lacayon gasped. “...There has not been a Grand Conclave since we were able to produce physical bodies for you...” he breathed. Though there were often meetings of individual leaders and groups of leaders, an assembly of the leaders of all Necrontyr systems seldom met. The last time was when they were finally able to placate the star gods in their necrodermis bodies, about a millennium ago. There had not been a forum for several millennia previous to that, when they were forced halt full-scale war with the beings they called the Old Ones and their creations due to the sheer scale of their losses. This war had left the Necrontyr in tatters. Their previously blooming empire had been reduced to mere existence and survival in the Halo stars, the stars on the outer edges of the galaxy.
The star god shifted, slightly agitated at the mention of their common foe.
“We know... but what we intend to do must have approval of the Necrontyr.”
The High Vizier was taken aback.
“The gods require approval... by us?”
“Well...” Mephet'ran waved its hands haphazardly, “not necessarily. But I think that we should anyway because,” its vocal tone changed to near subservience, “we never would want to interfere directly with your kind. You are such worthy subjects as to be granted a limited amount of leeway by the gods.”
“Then there shall be a meeting. But,” Lacayon moved in his chair, placing his elbows on the table and hands around his chin, “may I know what this is all about?”
The C'Tan just grinned. “You will find out when the Grand Conclave meets.”
The floor of Great Sepulchre of the Necrontyr's home world was filled with life. Delegates had come from all over the small empire to join in the Grand Conclave. The ceiling arced high above those below. Its impenetrable walls were black but silver names were inscribed all over them, a salient reminder of all those who had fallen prey to their cancerous bodies. These inscriptions rose to the top of the immense ceiling, seemingly breaching the sky itself to those who did not give more than slight attention to the architecture.
Between the four walls, the normally reverently quiet floor was buzzing. Frenzied discussion took place between the leaders of the systems as rumours abounded about the purpose of this meeting. Some thought that there would be a mass colonisation effort in the opposite arms of the galaxy. Others believed that the war was going to begin anew. Further rumours included the suspicion that they were going to vote on a total truce with the Old Ones in an attempt to prevent the skirmishes that had ravaged their space for so long. Lacayon's voice, enhanced by loudspeakers, was heard over the din.
"Leaders of Worlds, I ask that you please enter your allotted places.”
One by one, they teleported up to the floating platforms situated near the engraved walls. Each platform had a control panel with large viewing screens dimly showing the High Vizier's platform, a masterfully crafted piece of design that hovered in the centre of the vast open space. The noise softened as Lacayon stood up. He waited until absolute silence was achieved before beginning.
“My people,” Lacayon gestured next to himself with an enormous smile, “please be upstanding for Mephet'ran!”
As one, the Necrontyr delegates of thousands of worlds rose, applauded and cheered as a figure teleported onto the main conference podium alongside Lacayon. Though it looked superficially similar to a Necrontyr, there were key differences. This being had no lesions and was, for all intents and purposes, physical perfection. Where Necrontyr were shaded in various dark tans, this being was tinged with gold. It nearly glowed with a radiant aura of confidence. This was their most beloved star god and it had chosen to grace them with its presence, walking as the perfect Necrontyr no less. Though the noise was nearly deafening to begin with, it raised to borderline pain when the C'Tan waved. Minutes passed before a reasonable noise level was achieved and Mephet'ran was able to begin.
“Necrontyr, followers of the star gods, a people most loyal,” its voice boomed out to all who listened. “We, your gods, have watched over you for many years and note especially your fruitless search to live out a longer, less painful life. We, of all beings, pity your short lives when we compare ourselves, clad in the ingenuity of the necrodermis that you provide us, to you, with your cancerous bodies. We also note your hatred towards those that you call the Old Ones,” it hid none of its contempt for the beings that were millions of years younger than the C'Tan and, in doing so, drew the eager crowds attention further. “We understand the conflict, have learnt of your past and the terrible war that you waged in vain against them. We want to help you, our subjects, for those abominations are the side of chaos, disorder, pandemonium. I, the Messenger, am here in person today to tell you that we have a single solution for your entire species and it should prove the end of all issues.” Though it did not need to breathe, the being paused and made a dramatic inhalation. Many of the Necrontyr leaders held baited breath. “Give yourselves fully to us. Become as one with us and have life everlasting. We, your gods, want it to be so.” The request echoed around the chambers and silence was maintained for several moments as the request sank in. The silence passed with an eruption of discussion, the leaders murmuring and questioning with each other. It was Tisyurioc, a leader well known for his caution and much respected because of it, who spoke out first.
“Great Mephet'ran, I ask for you to clarify what you mean by us becoming as one with you.”
The C'Tan's face showed a business-like smile as quiet resumed within the sepulchre.
“Naturally, I shall explain what we want. We want you to volunteer your species to forfeit their current lives and rise to a new level. You will be granted pain free lives and those lives will be of such duration that the length of your current lives would be as an insignificant blink on the time span of your new lives.”
A few more seconds of quiet passed before Tisyurioc spoke again. “I apologise for my further questioning, my god, but you have not really told us anything of how you want us to do such a thing. I may speak only for the members of my own system here, of course, but I refuse to vote for anything that I do not fully understand.” A general murmur of agreement rose from the crowd.
The being's smile widened slightly. If they were not the most technologically advanced and numerous species, by far, to bow down to us, it thought, I would be rather disappointed with myself at doing this. Such intelligence is hard to find.
“Of course,” it said in dulcet tones, “we would never want to interfere directly with your political councils...” It considered something for a moment before speaking again. “Perhaps, then, I should show you an example. I require access to the dregs of your society. Your outcasts, underlings, worthless ones will be sufficient to show the potential of what we want. Is there any nation out there,” it gestured outwards to the crowd of Necrontyr leaders, “willing to entrust its people to the gods?”
Immediately, the request board lit up with an overwhelming amount of system leaders wanting to take part in the experiment. Mephet'ran's smile broadened.
“Very well, I shall select the first nation on the list. Emissaries of the Saprophyte system, join with me and I shall show you what we want.”
The god and the leader of the Saprophyte planets teleported to the forth planet of the system. Saprophyte IV was a large industrial world. The many complexes here generated a large amount of products for use by the Necrontyr. In particular, numerous components were built here for the vast Living Metal ships. The earthen greys and browns of the majority of buildings mixed with some that were off white and reflected the similar colours of the dusty sky and earth. However, there was a stark contrast between the buildings on the ground and the floating cities above them. These night black structures, in homage to the first C'Tan entered into a necrodermis shell, were testament to the Necrontyr's technological mastery over gravity. The vast majority of the populace of this planet worked in gathering the raw materials or producing items from those materials but eventually all would succumb to a slow painful death after their cancerous bodies lost their ability to function fully. Those that refused to take their own life, and were unable to maintain the extensive therapies, attempted to etch a short existence based on scavenging and doing menial jobs on the ground, outside of the huge floating cities. They lived precariously at the lowest rungs of society's ladder, all but ignored by the citizens still privileged with more able bodies.
“Such a fine planet,” the Messenger remarked as it stood inside high above the ground in a floating tower, studying one of the industrial cities via panoramic camera feeds. “It goes through its duties for all of Necrontyr kind like a lumbering behemoth: unstoppable and continuously moving.”
“We are all most pleased that you chose us for the experiment, Mephet'ran,” Narsellus, elected leader of the Saprophyte system, beamed a wide grin and had been doing so ever since their god chose his people at the Grand Conclave.
“You are blessed, Narsellus. Not only were you first to raise your collective hand but were fortunate enough to have a planet in your system that has all of the materials required for this undertaking.” The Necrontyr now appeared puzzled, studying the face of the god's false body.
“You knew of us before the council?”
The C'Tan nodded. “Oh yes, most definitely. We have actually been looking at this planet for some time.” The Messenger watched as its subject predictably basked in the knowledge that the gods were watching over him in a favourable way, quite literally. Bemused, it took a seat facing the vista screens and ushered the leader to take a seat also.
Graciously accepting the offer to sit with his god, Narsellus thanked it and proceeded with, “Then I must ask: what caused you to watch over us?”
“Basically, this entire project. Allow me to explain... Although it would be well within our powers to continue with this great work without your consent, I believe it would be much more beneficial for us, your gods, to allow you and all the Necrontyr to make the choice to follow us. Without the entire approval of your species this task would take an incredibly long time... wouldn't you rather extending your lives and fighting back against your enemies sooner?” Mephet'ran paused and waited for the expected nod from the leader before continuing. “There are other reasons for this project too. It allows us to find out who among you are not truly loyal to us and the cause.”
Narsellus was horrified. “There are some who do not follow the gods?”
The C'Tan nodded and smiled a malevolent smile. “You do not know? There are rumours that there are some, even in the Grand Conclave, who may sympathise, nay follow, the masters of the Immaterium.”
“I can assure you that I most staunchly follow you,” Narsellus blurted.
“I know, Narsellus, and that is another reason why I am here, for I am about to request something that some may not allow.”
“Who am I to deny the gods what they request?”
Mephet'ran's grin grew wider. “We like you, Narsellus. Such unquestioning attitude is most satisfying.” It shifted in its seat and turned to face its minion. “I wish for you to halt production of most of your current projects involved with the Living Metal in order to create an army for me.”
“Create an army?” The underling was confused.
“Yes, I wish for an army of Living Metal beings - I shall give you much of the designs, of course – so that I may use them to show the council what is wanted from you.”
Narsellus considered this for a moment. “I can arrange such things for you, but...” he felt uneasy to be asking questions of a god but swallowed and continued anyway, “I would like you to answer a few questions.”
The C'Tan nodded and showed opened hands. “But of course.”
“First, why only the most of the designs? Why not all of them?”
“An astute observation. Part of the internal sections will be filled with the life of the subject inside the machine. Before you ask, I cannot explain such things in a reasonable period of time.” It waved a hand dismissively. “You would have to be a god to understand the process and way it works. The life of the Necrontyr will be able to sustain the movement and repair operations, both of the Living Metal itself and the nano machines that will inhabit the body, to a reasonable extent. There will be other machines in the future that will be able to take care of more grievous injuries that may be sustained, but those will be built after these tests are complete.”
“So they are essentially robotic constructs?”
“In a way, yes. Though there is life in them, they will contain a micro power plant... not too dissimilar to the power plants in your mobile Gauss weapons. One such benefit in the robotics is that the being will be much stronger.”
Narsellus shifted in his seat, slightly more comfortable now that the C'Tan was answering the questions to his satisfaction.
“And the life itself... it continues within the body of these beings forever?”
“Oh yes. As long as the Living Metal structure of the body is reasonably intact, the life will continue on. For, after all, there will be no cancers or weakness of body left for the life to leak out of. The bodies themselves will be of similar dimensions to your species, actually, so very little in the way of your perception would have to change.”
“So where do the unfortunates that you mentioned at the Grand Conclave come into this? Are they to be the test subjects?”
“Yes. While you run about and order the changes and the machines and presses are being altered for my designs, I will begin a recruitment program of these people. They will also help in the process of creation, if necessary.”
“...Mephet'ran, they are there because they cannot work any more and are otherwise useless. How will they work if it is needed?”
“I am a god; they will work merely because I say so.” Narsellus open his mouth to say something but shut it again quickly. The words were truth for him, as he had admitted to earlier, so why would they not apply to someone else, especially to those who had nothing else to live for anyway? The promise of freedom from pain and death surely would make most people work.
“... I cannot argue with that. Why do only most of the current Living Metal operations need to stop? Why shouldn't they all stop in order to help us in this project?”
The C'Tan grinned broadly and stood up out of its chair. Narsellus, realising that this was the end of the conversation, also rose. “Well... I am a benevolent god. I would not like to see you lose almost all of your planet's income from this venture.” The being smiled innocently and shrugged its artificial shoulders. “Though, far be it for me to demand your entire production to stop. That would be your decision to make.” It held one of its hands out in an acceptance gesture, a gesture that Narsellus only too willingly took. “I shall begin the recruitment drives now. I trust that you will be able to find some agreement with the manufacturing plants.”
“All plants will submit to these plans or suffer dearly. I am master here.”
Leaving the room, the god cheerfully called back, “That's what I like to hear!”
Narsellus stood there in complete satisfaction. I am truly blessed he thought to himself.
The C'Tan floated slowly, but resolutely, through the streets of the ground-hugging buildings in a form that was larger than life. Those who gazed upon its form instantly acknowledged that this was a god come to walk among them for a heavenly purpose. There was no other reason for anyone not yet dying, let alone something immortal, to walk these forsaken parts. They simply got up and followed, no one daring to speak to their saviour lest they offend the deity's countenance. Within several streets, the followers numbered in their hundreds. By the time they had crossed the city to the ground level factories, thousands blocked the streets.
Upon entering the first factory, Mephet'ran could see the owner arguing with Narsellus via visual telecommunication devices in an office that overlooked the factory floor. Even over the mild noise of the factory the shouting of the manager could be heard, though it was muffled through the walls and glass. The god drifted up to the transparent wall to inspect what the fuss was about.
“I refuse to accept this! There is no way known that you have even been looked at by a star god, let alone been given divine guidance by one! This plant will not change its work on the whim of a mad dictator!”
“I am telling you that it was Mephet'ran who told me this! And I resent the implication that... It is behind you.”
With that, the manager turned around. For a moment, he was stunned rigid. There, floating before him, was a god. He blinked slowly and refocussed his eyes.
“Do you not acknowledge the presence of a god?” The C'Tan smirked as the manager dropped to one knee, head bowed. “Get up, fool, lest I grow bored of you and kill you for amusement.”
The manager jumped to his feet. “I... I apolo-”
“Do not bore me with your prattle, Necrontyr!” The sheer intensity of the voice made the structure rattle and the manager cringed. “Now go, begin the task set of you!” With that, the manager ran out of the room. Mephet'ran turned to the astonished crowd and floated down, its face smiling slightly as if it was now at peace. “Now, my subjects,” its voice now at a much less confrontational, but just as commanding, tone, “we want you to work to build these creations that I, the Messenger, have designed. I understand that your bodies are ailing and weak but know this: Those who survive for this will live forever, pain free and safe in the knowledge that they have helped the gods. What do you say?”
The cheer that ignited was just as warming to the C'Tan as the one it had received at the Grand Conclave.
Several weeks after the undertaking had begun, the C'Tan had decided that it was time to begin the next phase of the project. Mephet'ran had been monitoring the production levels of the factories of Saprophyte IV. Though the rejected ones had started off well, many grossly outliving the best predictions for their life expectancy, their numbers were beginning to drop significantly. For this, though, there were now millions of the skeletal husks waiting to be filled on this planet alone and their weapons, the terrifying gauss weaponry that were ubiquitous with all Necrontyr war machines, were ready to be wielded for the first time by a single entity without anti-gravity devices. Automation was also beginning to take over the work of the fallen.
Quite a few nations had sent emissaries in order to gather the design plans for the project, plans that the god had not yet been apparently willing to share in public. Mephet'ran had told Narsellus that these same nations were the ones that he suspected of being heretical to the cause and were trying to search for the plans in order to make an attempt to stop them. Unbeknownst to the leader of this system, while he was sleeping the C'Tan had visited a great many other systems. It had generated a strong base of support from these leaders alone and had given many of them varying designs of the shells. The constructions had begun in these other systems, under the watchful eyes of other C'Tan, and so the total production of the shells was enormous. The god had demanded that all access to the systems be blocked off by any means necessary so as to hide what was going on, though this was under the guise of trying to protect the project from those with supposed understandings with the Old Ones.
“I wish to begin the infusion of people into the constructs now,” it said to the Saprophyte leader in his personal chamber.
“Very well, my god.” Narsellus waited nervously behind the god as it watched over the viewing monitors of a factory. The time was approaching to when the Grand Conclave would begin demanding results. “How would you like to proceed?”
“I think that I should teleport out those who are relatively healthy, take the sick workers and I will begin the process. Once the transfer is complete, I will let you know.”
“Am I not allowed to watch, master?” The uneasy feeling of asking a god a question began to rise again. Mephet'ran turned to him slowly, considering the request.
“I suppose you may watch... but I warn you that mere mortals should not bear witness to such events. Your mind may not be able to take it.”
Narsellus was baffled by this comment.
“...You do not want me to watch, do you?”
“I do not, no.” The C'Tan's voice was flat and neutral, though Narsellus could not escape from the thought that there was the slightest hint of hostility brewing.
“Then I shall not watch. I trust that you know what you are doing and -”
“I am a god, do not forget that. I know what I am doing.” The curt interruption stupefied Narsellus. In the few weeks that the god walked with him, there had not been any hint that it would snap at Narsellus. He had acceded to all requests made of him and his people by the star god. Perhaps this is a trying time even for a god he thought. It took him a few moments to regather his courage before speaking again.
“My most sincere apologies, my lord, I never intended to suggest that you did not know what you are doing, but I am a little concerned. What if this does not go well and what if the conclave does not approve of what is being done?”
“What of it? Surely you will see that the results will net you the victory over the wretched opponent and give you freedom. No one will be able to deny the results.”
“But what of those who do not follow your guidance?”
“Then we shall find out who they are.” The being paused for a moment. “Let us catch them unaware. Return to the Grand Conclave and tell them that the trial is almost done. Begin a session and I shall be there with the creations.”
“As you wish, Mephet'ran.” Narsellus hurried out of the room to begin the necessary procedure to request a convening of the Grand Conclave, almost thankful to be outside of the wrath of the god.
Pleased with its display of false anger, Mephet'ran moved on to the factories. The workers were still producing shells at a solid rate. A cheer flowed through each factory as the god floated past the entrance ways. There was always a louder cheer after the managers and more able bodied workers were forcibly removed from the factories. After all the of the ground dwelling factories had been emptied of those who normally would work there, the C'Tan gathered the remaining followers into one of the larger factories. Though it was a tight squeeze, the followers did not mind at all. Being in the presence of a god was more than any had expected in their short lives, especially given the promises made by the god. After quieting the crowd with a hand gesture, its voice dominated the confines of the factory.
“My most valued of subjects, I promised to deliver you from your lives of suffering and grant you life eternal.” A roar of approval from the Necrontyr shook the building. Broad joyous smiles were on the faces of the afflicted. Mephet'ran's eyes widened with wicked delight, matching its developing deviant sadistic smile. “Then so shall it be.”
From above, the weather monitors noted an unexpected dust storm that appeared in the region of the factories. They took observations for several minutes after the brief tempest ended and concluded that there was an infinitesimal Immaterium anomaly in the region. They marked the region down for further monitoring of chaotic activity.
The healthy workers returned to the factory with the shrivelled bodies of their previously dying co-workers littering the floor. They assumed that they had been deemed unworthy of the gods and their life consumed. As they had been taught from years of living next to the dying, they cleared the ground of the dishevelled piles and resumed producing the Living Metal constructs.
Narsellus stood proud, the rest of the Grand Conclave focussed on what he had to say.
“Mephet'ran has spoken. The trial is almost complete for viewing.” A murmur arose from the crowd.
“When shall we be able to the see the results of this trial?” Lacayon's question halted the voices.
“Mephet'ran has not given a time frame but I can assure you that it will be soon.”
Tisyurioc was first to hit the 'Request to Speak' button.
“And what are your opinions of these preliminary results, Narsellus?”
“You will see the results for yourselves shortly.”
“That is not what I asked, I asked for your opinions of the trial.”
Narsellus still smiled but shifted a little uncomfortably as he prepared to speak his rehearsed half-truth.
“The trials are going as the Messenger has said they would. They are without pain and they have well outlived their life expectancy with no sign of stopping.” Small lights blinked on his panel and Narsellus exhaled hard in relief. Breathing in, mainly to recompose himself, he announced, “And now you shall witness what Mephet'ran has delivered.”
On Narsellus' platform, the C'Tan materialised. It quietened the crowd almost before they hit full cheers.
“Necrontyr, my followers, I give you the opportunity to see what you will become.” Mephet'ran directed everyone's gaze to the floor of the sepulchre, where a legion appeared.
Their features were spine-chilling solid skeletal constructs. The face was fixed in a permanent visage of death. Where there were once teeth, only striations appeared in the otherwise smooth metal. Numerous glowing eyes ominously peered out of the skull-like heads that were held by broad stooped shoulders. In their arms they each held the heavy weight of a double barrelled gauss blaster, though this was not entirely of Necrontyr design as there were no anti-gravity devices helping these strong entities lift the bulky generators. Their tall bodies gleamed, reflecting the glow of the lights.
Many of the delegates, mystified with curiosity, teleported down to the floor where the stoic figures stood. They ran their hands over the unmoving bodies, feeling for any sense of the life that was supposed to be left. Some sang their praises for the mesh of metaphysics and technology, some gasped with the life threatening terror instigated by these skeletal nightmares. None could deny that they were an awe inspiring sight.
“Are they alive?” Lacayon asked.
“Most assuredly, there is life within these bodies. They are cold, hard and static for there is nothing rushing within them, no blood, no heart,” the C'Tan replied.
“How do they converse? Their mouths do not appear to move, nor do they appear to have any organs or... anything left to communicate with.”
“They are able to communicate with each other via transmission over multiple dimensions. They are, however, only able to communicate with each other and no others. However I think their bodies and weapons convey their purpose all too well, for here, Necrontyr, is the only communication with other species that you will ever have to use again. The Old Ones and their abominations will look upon you and know that their death approaches.” Looking around the arena, the star god saw the look of dissatisfaction on the faces of many followers. “Perhaps a show of their durability is required.” The Messenger asked everyone to move back to their representative platforms before dramatically commanding the constructs to move. The legions moved eerily, only the sound of their footsteps against the hard floor was heard. They slipped away so that there was an area of open space. Two of the gaunt figures remained in the middle, separated by tens of metres. The crowd watched silently as one raised its terrifying weapon against the other. A quick whir, the sound of the generators charging up, was heard before a tremendous pulse of twin lightning bolts raked across the space, creating a thunderous crack. The being was struck flat in the torso with the blasts, two giant divots that nearly completely penetrated through the warrior testament to the power of the shots. After it crumpled face first to the floor, all was still for a few moments.
The left arm moved, silently raising the perforated skeleton onto its knees. Even while it was doing so, the gaping holes created in its body were slowly being closed. As one, the Necrontyr gasped in disbelief as the construct methodically stood back up on its feet, grabbed its weapon, and resumed its immobile pose. A weapon famed for frequently devastating ranks of general infantry was merely an annoyance to this being.
“Does it feel any pain?” Tisyurioc asked.
“It can not feel pain. There are no sensory perceptions left for it to feel pain with.”
The noise level rose again with frantic discussions taking place between representatives. Before there was much further discussion, Lacayon called a halt to proceedings.
“Necrontyr, you have seen what the Messenger of the gods has offered us. Let us take this time to take a break from here. I trust that these... constructs will be left on display for us, Mephet'ran?”
“Absolutely. They will remain in here. You will be able to look over them. I may or may not be here to answer questions as I have other business to attend to elsewhere.”
“Then let us reconvene in a week. We have a lot to think about before we vote for the future of our species.”
The majority of the week saw the C'Tan travelling to the planets belonging to those whom it saw in secret. On each of these planets, it covertly converted the sickly workers into the skeletal fabrications. It only altered its plans upon hearing dire news for its cause.
“Mephet'ran, we are glad that you again grace us with your presence,” Terci, leader of the Lamia system, warmly embraced the god.
“And it is good to see you again, my humble servant,” the god replied as it took a seat, “Tell me what has been happening here recently.”
Terci's gaze faltered, now no longer willing to look at the god.
“Well... there are rumours that may cast bad omens for your cause should they prove true.”
The C'Tan rolled its head to one side, a frown ruining its perfect forehead, curious as to what these problems were.
“I have not heard of such rumours... you look troubled. What rumours are these, Terci?”
“Rumours abound that there are a great deal more objectors to your plan than there are those who will follow it...”
The star god shifted cautiously, not willing to intimidate the speaker lest he stop producing information. Its vocal tones were carefully neutral.
“Is that a fact?”
“It is what I have heard from several discussions that I have had with some other members of the Great Conclave...,” Terci suddenly looked up, slightly frightened, “You have nothing to fear about our vote, my god - we are steadfast supporters of the cause!”
“We know this, Terci, and you will be rewarded as such... Please go on.”
“All I know is that the Grand Conclave is split. I suspect that there will be a three quarter majority required to pass such a motion because, as you understand, this is a large decision to make and will change our future forever.”
Though its head nodded, its voice was still indifferent.
“We understand.”
“The Necrontyr are torn with doubt... and with such doubt, a majority vote of that magnitude in the conclave is impossible to achieve.”
The C'Tan stared down at the table between the two beings. Terci sat motionless, held captive by fear of the god's reaction. A few long seconds passed before the star god spoke again.
“We thank you for your information, and you will be rewarded for providing it, but...” the being put its hands to its chin, deep in thought, “I may have to change my plans somewhat...”
The next day was spent requesting things of Necrontyr leaders that could be guaranteed to support him, those with an army of the new warriors, as well as creating a tertiary back up.
It was the day of the third meeting of the Grand Conclave. Many of the leaders were still heavily discussing the events of the previous week with each other, intermingling with the intransigent metallic forms that were still on show, when Lacayon called all of the members to return to their respective platforms. There were still conversations going on when the High Vizier started.
“Welcome back, fellow Necrontyr, to the Grand Conclave. I trust that all of you have done some considerable thinking about the request of the star gods. I have here apologies from the following system leaders,” the names of tens of delegates appeared on the screens, “as they have taken under by their cancerous bodies, presumably accelerated by the stresses of making such hefty decisions, and their systems will unfortunately be unrepresented here today as there has been insufficient time to name successors.” A small amount of conflicting talking was heard, but overruled by Lacayon. “Let us take the liberty of some final discussion before making the vote.” A request light from Saprophyte’s leader was first to flash.
“Where is Mephet'ran?”
“Mephet'ran is not here by both my authority and of its own volition. As the Messenger said, it is not their will to influence our council and we agreed to take that the C'Tan should be absent from this meeting. This way, all should feel free to voice their opinions out of the earshot of the gods.” Lacayon took a breath. “So let us begin discussion of the proposal.”
Tisyurioc spoke out.
“It says that there is life here, but we cannot see it. It says that they can talk, but we cannot hear it. How can we trust anything it has said?”
A flurry of requests jumped up, with Narsellus being first to respond.
“How can you say that? Who are we to question the gods? For that matter, who are we to deny the gods what they request?”
“But there has been no evidence to suggest that this is anything other than mere manipulation of machines. They stand perfectly still, carry enormous weapons that normally require us to mount anti-gravity devices on them and repair themselves... sounds like a machine to me. Like machines, these things will die. Do we hate life so much so that we would willingly give them for an unknown purpose?”
“The bodies of my people have been used to create these beings. How can you say that they are mere machines?”
“If they are gods,” Tisyurioc continued, “then why do they need our permission to do anything? And why have they not already swapped our lives into these constructs?”
“Because they want us to choose our destiny!” Terci joined in.
Heated debates about whether the skeletal beings were alive and what the god’s reason for asking them instead of simply taking them raged for hours before Lacayon declared them over.
“Enough talk. We now have enough discussion on the table to have made up our minds. I call on all of you to vote for or against this proposal. For this proposal, due to its extreme nature and profound effect on the future of our species, a three-quarter majority is required to pass this motion.” He paused for a second. “Vote now, for the future of the species.”
The silence was thick with tension, no one speaking as they pressed the buttons of their choice. A minute passed before the poll was over. All had their eyes fixed to the screen and ear tuned to Lacayon's voice as he announced the results.
“68% vote against the proposal, 32% vote for the proposal. The proposal is therefore rejected.”
The sound of noisy discussions arose from the crowd and it took a few moments for Lacayon to interject.
“Necrontyr, there are more ways to work around this. I have instructions here from the Messenger that we were to discuss this further if the proposition was rejected. Please, let us join and mingle on the floor so that we may discuss things further without the restrictions of the request system.”
Though they were tired of debating, for the day at least, they followed the instruction of the High Vizier and teleported to the ground and moved toward each other in order to continue the discussions. Tisyurioc hunted through the crowd for Lacayon.
“Ah, High Vizier, I have a few thoughts on a reworking of the proposal. My initial thought is that we should perhaps request that only some Necrontyr be consumed. I believe that this would be a great compromise and -”
Lacayon interrupted, but the voice was not his own. “There will be no compromise.”
The sound of tearing lightning echoed through the sepulchre. Gaping holes were left in the outermost Necrontyr. Shrieks of agony were accompanied by screams of confusion. The metallic skeletons were marching towards the centre from all sides; many had appeared from what was thin air seconds before. They crushed the twisted forms of perforated bodies beneath their heavy feet as they moved in. Only those who had accepted the C'Tan's request were spared by the uncompromising machines.
Tisyurioc was held by the throat and yanked off the ground by what was supposed to be Lacayon. Time slowed, literally, as Lacayon floated into the air, maintaining a firm grip on the wide eyed Tisyurioc. What were once wails of pain from the dying were now slowed to long dull drones, flooding the air surrounding them.
“What are you?” The Necrontyr was barely able to speak, holding onto the arms that held his throat.
“Why... I am your god Mephet'ran,” It replied, an unnaturally large grin appeared on its falsified face.
“...Lacayon?” Tisyurioc's throat was slowly being crushed.
“I removed him,” the god said calmly. “I wanted to be in the arena and there was no better seat to be in without being there as a god.”
Something clicked in Tisyurioc's head and he gurgled, “The others... not... dead from cancers... It was... you.”
The grin turned into a savage toothed smile. “Very intelligent. I found out from Terci that there was a good chance that I would fail, so I tried to remove as many of my opponents as possible without taking out the most obvious opposers.” It shrugged its false shoulders as its captive struggled. “I suppose that I couldn't make a speedy political change and that I should probably stick to long term deception and misdirection.”
“...Why?” He let go of the arms, giving up the fight against the god, and gestured to the cavern surrounding them.
Time began returning to normal speed. The drones of pain morphed slowly to the shrill sounds of suffering. “It would have been easier for you all to vote for the plan,” the C'Tan said as the time shift continued, “but you didn't and you were able to persuade many of them to vote against me. I know that it was mainly you because you, among the others, were able to question the god. I enjoyed your intelligence but it would have been better, for you anyway, to have voted for the plan because then this would already be over.” And with that, the Deceiver began a terrifying transformation of its necrodermis body.
An ethereal wind began to blast from the wildly shifting body, generating a dreadful crescendo. Some of the remaining Necrontyr began running, some searched for anything that may shield their damned bodies against the upcoming final judgement. Others glanced rapidly around the cavern at each other while others still cowered in fearful reverence of their god. What had they wrought? The noise reached its peak with an incredible roar and, in rapid succession, the Necrontyr bodies in the room contorted and cried their last truly living call, though their screams were swallowed in the noise generated from the star god’s transformation. Their minds obliterated, their souls evaporated into nothingness and their personalities blown away with the wind, all that remained of their lives was a small portion of their intellects infused into the immaculate iridescent exoskeletons.
Across all of the Necrontyr worlds, similar events were unfolding. The C'Tan had received the signal given by the Deceiver transmitted over the vast distances through their mastery of multiple dimensions, and responded accordingly. The ripples were felt across the galaxy through the Immaterium. A wave of terror and fear replaced in a matter of moments by a vacuum... a void created by an uncountable numbers of lives sucked out by the star gods, stored inside inorganic constructs. Though there were legions of the walking and floating coffins, there were more lives than husks could be supplied. Numerous C'Tan simply consumed the excess. Others stored them away in the vaults of Living Metal structures already created by the Necrontyr to be used at a later stage at their will - some waiting for the automation processes to produce more skeletal carapaces, some storing their food for future consumption.
The metal skinned Deceiver floated playfully in front of the ranks of its creations. The beings were now no longer exactly living but certainly far from dead, though their new bodies would suggest different. Their bodies now resembled their lives: mere skeletons of their former selves. It had taken only a short amount of time to subjugate the entire population of the planet.
“I must say, it is interesting to see you all there now. I remember the first time your kind paid homage to me like this. So much life to give...” It rolled its head back and stroked its chin, thinking fondly for a moment of the first time it was bowed down to as a god. “There is something just as satisfying here. For, in being a god, I needed a creation and I finally have one that truly bows down to me.” With this, the files of undying beings went to one knee. The Deceiver's smile broadened. “And yet, there is much symmetry between us for it was only one scant millennium ago that your species was able to compress us into these necrodermis bodies. You granted us the hunger that we never knew we wanted whilst satisfying your want for a weapon against the Old Ones. Now I have collected you all and granted you the endless life your species has craved for so long whilst satisfying our wants for a weapon against those wretched masters of the Immaterium and disorder.” With a thought, the Deceiver commanded the legions to rise. It floated towards one of the smaller skeletal structures in particular.
“Of course, Tisyurioc, I did not have to ask your species in order to do this, and you did well to note this. I merely could have asked some of you to begin producing the bodies, as I did, and sucked you all dry without the need for the Grand Conclave to vote on anything. But,” it shrugged its shoulders, “where would the fun have been in that? You wouldn't have to argue amongst yourselves about the correct course of action and I would never have been able to see what you all would have chosen. Perhaps you had a point, though,” it mused to this entity. “Would it not have been better for me to maintain some Necrontyr to continue the species? But then how would I have ensured eternity for all of your kind, as promised? No, I think Narsellus had this one right. Who are you to deny the gods what they request? And why not use an entire species to gather the others ready for harvest? Why grant only some of them immortality when the entire race hungered for life eternal?” It floated to a larger, more ornate skeletal husk. “And this way, Lacayon, I have ensured the future of your species until forever.” The Deceiver moved closer to this creation and hovered slightly above its eye line. “Look at me when I talk to you.” The being raised its emotionless head so its dispassionate eyes were gazing directly into the gleeful eyes of its god. The Deceiver rolled in mid air, laughing maniacally.
“I do believe I am drunk from this enormous feast! Such an orgy of delight, food, subtleties and delicacies for my hunger has left me rather giddy,” it declared.
The being drifted around in sheer ecstasy for many days.
When it recomposed itself, it said to no one in particular, “We shall rest for the time being. Soon, the harvests will begin true and we will be satiated.”
*****
I hope you had as much fun reading it as i had thinking and writing about it.
So... here's what i am thinking after re-reading this piece after 2-3 weeks of completing it...
I am fairly sure that i have broken several immutable laws of short story writing here.
- Don't write about too big an event: it reduces the amount of detail you can go into for a short story and can detract from it
- Too many characters/potential characters means limiting yourself further
- Don't write at length about something that has a prehistory that is as contradictory as GW fluff.
For those wishing to know, i mainly took pieces from both pages 24-26 and 30-31 (some of which, i feel, contradicts each other) of the Necron codex as background and tried to give a sense of how events could have transpired. I also gave the short story "Deus Ex Mechanicus" a bit of a look too.
I think that I wasn't quite dark enough in some sections to do the world of pre-history Necrons justice, but it was a reasonable attempt and some sections went quite well.
At some stages, I may have gone a little overboard with assonance/alliteration. Others probably could have done with more description.
I had some ideas that had to be partially rewritten halfway through because my ideas of what was happening changed relatively dramatically. Here's hoping that the semi-rewrite doesn't show through too badly.
That's about it really. Your comments?
Coming up sometime in the near-ish future (give it less than a month for one of them to be complete and a bit longer for the other as i am/will be sort of working in tandem with both projects after exams are behind me):
- Another Necron piece, this time a series of references to a planet...
- A Tyranid work, though it focuses less on the Tyranids and more of the politics between Space Marines and Imperial Guard trying to repel the attack. This one may also be split into two sections... Hopefully it will represent the 40K world better with a darker sense of writing.
EDIT
I have changed the font to Times New Roman for the story section (or at least i hope that worked). Here's hoping it is easier to read. Let me know what you think about that.
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Post by Hyper Kinetic on Jun 24, 2008 2:03:56 GMT
And hooray for uni holidays and NOT doing much at all ;D This next set of posts will be a series of various events relating to the planet Arbrylis Inferior. It will come up in dribs and drabs over the next few weeks (if i am lucky, another post will be later today or tomorrow). Again, it is Necron related. Hopefully there will remain some mystery until the final posts, and maybe some after that... Feel free to make comments between posts. Enjoy  *****
Court-Martial of Captain Frederich Boole
<Record retrieved>
*Recording Note: Stimulus considered as momentary if noted as “administered”. If noted by “sustained”, the stimulus is considered ongoing until “stimulus halted” is noted.*
<Recording time begin 1800, 2010079.M41>
<Transcript time: Beginning+5>
***...stand accused of abandoning an Explorator mission, cowardice, disobeying direct orders from the Adeptus Astartes, disobeying direct orders from the Adeptus Mechanicus, failure to defend the Emperor's subjects, gross negligence and treason. Do you deny your guilt?
++ There were extenuating circumstances! We -
*** Do you deny your guilt?
++ There is no guilt! Our vessel was -
*** A plea of ineffable guilt is placed on record. The questioning shall proceed. Discomforting stimulus will be employed if you continue to be insubordinate. Why was your vessel turned away from Arbrylis Inferior before allowed to do so by directive of Adeptus Astartes, Explorator and Mechanicus?
++ Our ship was boarded by Necrons via some form of teleportation method. But we were attacked both from within and without! We were also fired upon by the Adeptus Mechanicus vess- *stimulus Delta sustained*
*** Do not blaspheme against the Machine God's followers. This will not be tolerated.
++ But it is true! *stimulus amplified to Gamma, associated muffled scream, stimulus halted*
*** Tell us of the battle on your ship.
++ It is all in the voice logs, you surely have gone through them! *stimulus Epsilon administered* Ok, for the record of this court... from memory, the port side of levels twenty-one through thirty-four were invaded by Necrons of varying types.
*** From the logs, the port side of levels twenty-four to thirty-one were invaded. Do you attempt to deceive the court?
++ No! It is hard to think straight when you starve me and constantly subject me to pain and torture! *stimulus Epsilon administered*
*** Do not argue against the methods of this court. It is not your place. Proceed with the battle on your ship.
++ We lost support and communication to several levels. I can not recall what levels were lost, but I think it is irrelevant *stimulus Epsilon administered*
*** We will tell you what is irrelevant.
++ The fact remains that some levels were lost. I decided to focus my defences around the more critical portions of the ship. In accordance with Directive NEC28390, those who were able to utilise our heavier weapons did so in order to stall and halt the Necron advance throughout the ship. Though we suffered moderate losses and structural damage the Necrons were repulsed and phased out, as is wont of them.
***What of The Seeker?
++ The Seeker was destroyed sometime within a two and a half hours of being initially boarded. From memory, this would have been very shortly after we were able to expel the Necrons
*** Logs indicate that this was within fifteen minutes of eradication of Necron threats aboard your own ship. Given the damage assessments of your vessel at this point in time, there was enough time for you to re-coordinate your crew into helping the Astartes or Mechanicus vessels. Why did this not occur?
++ As I said before, were were attacked from within and without...
*** Explain.
++ But if I do, you punish me! *stimulus Epsilon sustained* Please, don't... *stimulus amplified to Delta* Don't! It hurts! I can't - *stimulus amplified to Gamma, associated scream* Alright! Alright! Alright! I will talk! But you must listen! Just, please, stop it! *stimulus halted* ... thank you... A few minutes after all contact was lost from The Seeker, we lost both Astropathic and radio contact from both the Astartes and Mechanicus vessels. We turned towards the Angelica Archangelica as we believed that we had a good chance of saving this vessel *stimulus Epsilon administered*
*** Adeptus Astartes never require saving at the hands of mere humans.
++ We decided to help them out. Their vessel appeared to be more heavily damaged than The Fourier and our own. It was assumed that the Mechanicus vessel was merely unlucky in losing their communication centres as they appeared otherwise intact. As we turned our vessel, we were fired upon...
*** What fired upon you?
++ *no response for five seconds, stimulus Epsilon sustained, no response for three seconds, stimulus amplified to Delta* We were fired upon! *stimulus halted* Our ship sustained critical damage to several key areas on our port side. Notably, many decks had fire outbreaks and our Plasma Drives had many of their fuel lines ruptured. We were reduced to around fifteen percent operating efficiency on that side within minutes, leaving us with dangerously poor levels of thrust given our orbit and situation. It was decided that we should make good our escape so we may let others know of the catastrophe and to better serve the Emperor elsewhere... *stimulus Epsilon administered*
*** You refused to answer our question. We ask again: What fired upon you?
++ I can not say that without you giving pain! *stimulus Delta administered* OK! As we made the turn towards the Astartes, we were fired upon... by... The... Fourier! *stimulus Delta administered*
*** Lies. A Mechanicus vessel is of a purity level approaching the Astartes. They would never fire upon you. We ask for the truth.
++ But I keep giving it to you, you refuse to listen to - *stimulus Delta administered*
*** Further lies. Consider this your warning: Painful stimulus will be amplified if the lies continue.
++ But you have seen the logs from both my vessel and the Explorator's vessel! Surely you can see that this is truth! *stimulus Delta sustained*
*** The logs from The Seeker are considered ineligible for the purpose of this court. They are deemed as unreliable as of the complete hull breach of the vessel. What fired upon you?
++ It could have been the Necrons! *stimulus halted* They are well known for bypassing shields with their weaponry... I would like to ask of the fate of the Astartes vessel *stimulus Epsilon administered*
*** You do not ask questions in this court and the fate of the Astartes vessel is not of concern to you.
++ ...As you say, it is of no concern at the moment. After the first few salvos, we decided to abandon our position surrounding Arbrylis Inferior. We figured that the Explorators were already dead and the Astartes could handle themselves - *stimulus Alpha sustained, associated screaming and writhing*
*** You have admitted all charges against you. Frederich Boole, it is the finding of this court that you have acted in such a way that is contrary to the will of the Imperium. You now face flagellation and imprisonment for further questioning and repentance. Do you have anything final to place on this record of your treason and blasphemy? You have one minute.
++ *stimulus reduced to Epsilon, writhing and screaming continue for twenty seconds, low moaning for ten seconds* None are so blind as those who refuse to see! *stimulus amplified to Gamma, noted vocal pitch and volume increase of subject* None are so deaf as those who do not wish to listen! They fired upon us! The Adeptus Mechanicus are corrupt! They - *stimulus amplified to Alpha, associated screaming and writhing*
***The court no longer accepts your presence. You have exceeded our tolerance for blasphemy, deception and treason.
++ *stimulus amplified to Omega, associated enhanced writhing, associated subject incapacitation, stimulus halted, subject removed from court*
<Transcript ends>
*****
Captain's Logs, The Interminable
<Log file retrieved>
*Log note: Large sections culled due to irrelevance. These sections are abbreviated by three asterisks (***) and continued on with a mark on the date and time of the next relevant entry.*
<1311, 2004833.M41>
The Warp manoeuvres have been successful and we have entered the Arbrylis system. Of the three planets here, there is one that the Explorators are interested in. Arbrylis Inferior is a small forested planet. According to what we have been told, it is fit to be a resource planet of some description. Our presence here is for as standard for Explorator expansion efforts and also to support to all accompanying vessels: The Seeker of the Explorators, The Fourier of the Adeptus Mechanicus and Angelica Archangelica of the 'Glowing Angels' Adeptus Astartes chapter. I can not understand why the Astartes are here, but we are all happy that they grace us with their presence.
***
<1521, 2004834.M41>
After orbital manoeuvres were completed around the planet, the Explorators requested to make land in accompaniment with a landing force of ours. I duly granted them that permission and we remain in orbit. I am still unable to fathom why there are members of the Astartes required for this mission, as the fighters of the Imperium and forces of the Mechanicus usually are all that are requested for the Explorator's expansion missions. My current best assumption is that this is due to the rapid expansion of this section of space. The Astartes will aid the thoroughness and speed of our sweeping missions planet-side. We are also honoured that the Astartes have agreed to train some of our more elite troopers. This training will no doubt help us in future confrontations and those trained will, at some stage in the future, be able to impart their skills to the other soldiers. This pleases me greatly and will add to the glory of The Interminable. I await message from Explorator crews upon their landing on the surface.
***
<0740, 2004835.M41>
Messages have come through from the Explorator crews and the landing parties on Arbrylis Inferior. Their landing on the southern continent has been completely successful. A team of Astartes also made their landing with this Explorator and Mechanicus parties. A sweep of a small area of the surrounding forests has been conducted and nothing untoward has yet been found. Back on our vessel an esteemed Librarian from the Astartes, Chief Librarian Barnard Luminous made an appearance. He had a small interview with some of our psykers and then left. I shall monitor these events closely.
***
<1533, 2004837.M41>
There has been news that the Explorator parties have found something of interest hidden within the vast forests on the planet. No solid information is coming through at the moment as it was not our crews who found what ever it was that they are talking about, but I am assured that we will be receiving some information shortly by my intelligence crews planet-side. I have increased the alert status of the forces remaining on the ship with this knowledge. I am hoping that this is unnecessary, but with all that has been known to happen in the universe it pays to be prepared.
***
<1342, 2004838.M41>
The Chief Librarian of the Glowing Angels has paid us another visit. This time he requested to take one of our Sanctioned Psykers, designated name “Jones” and a particularly gifted psyker from what I have seen, in order to better train him with his psychic abilities and this was granted.
Still no word from intelligence planet-side. Further troops have been sent down to consolidate areas declared hostile-free and to enhance the sweeping efforts.
***
<1721, 2004838.M41>
Planet-side intelligence has come back with sketchy details of what the Explorators have found. According to Intel, it is possible that there was an civilisation on this planet. Details, as mentioned above, are limited but it is probable that there were items of technological significance there as the Adeptus Mechanicus has now greatly increased their activity on the planet. Covert information-gathering missions will continue.
***
<1734, 2004840.M41>
Planet-side Intel has no further useful information to us, stating only that the mission is moving along as expected and that there is no further news about the supposed ancient structure hidden in the forests. More of our troops have been sent down to the planet to strengthen the forces there.
***
<0749, 20044842.M41>
Interesting news at last from planet-side. Two squads of our men, hand picked by the Adeptus Mechanicus themselves, will be moving with squads of Astartes, Mechanicus and Explorators into this so-called area of importance. More information will be noted when it is obtained.
***
<1512, 20044842.M41>
Our contacts planet-side are calling for full-scale landing parties by our troops. The Interminable has been placed on red-alert and all hands are on deck. We are awaiting confirmation from either the Astartes or the Mechanicus vessels, as per regulations.
<1532>
The Astartes have given the call for us to start a landing raid, beginning at the initial landing zone of the Explorator site. They shall use drop pods in order to bolster any areas of defence found lacking or in trouble. Explorator and Mechanicus crews have been somewhat silent. I can only assume that they believe that we, as in the Astartes and us, will be able to control the situation.
<1535>
The call for reinforcements has been stopped and replaced with a call to evacuate issued by the Astartes and, surprisingly, the Explorator vessels. This turn of events is alarming, for it is said to be extremely rare for Explorators to ever leave a site, but it is fortunate that none of our ships were ready to leave yet. Evacuation ships have been sent planet-side and will collect those making the fighting retreat. Radio contacts coming through are heavily warped with static and interference and are somewhat confused, but it appears that Necrons forces are present on the planet. Whether they were there to begin with or this is a random terror raid is yet to be seen. I shall report on this when I receive further information from those who were planet-side.
***
<2159, 20044842.M41>
The final ships have left the atmosphere. Analysis has yet to be complete, in regards to losses and damage taken, but it seems both were heavy. Awaiting orders from other vessels.
<2237>
We are being invaded! Reports of teleported raids are coming from floors twenty-four through thirty-one. Though garbled, all reports point toward a Necron force. Fighting squads have been despatched to those areas and, in accordance with the Anti-Necron doctrines, heavy weapons have been authorised for use.
Though we must focus primarily on our own vessel, a quick scan of the ships around us shows that all are being invaded but Angelica Archangelica and The Seeker are being hit the hardest.
<0002, 20044843.M41>
After our initial losses on the invaded floors, we appear to be winning the battle against the Necrons. We have forced them into various bottle necks and, although they seem relentless in their march towards some of the more critical portions of the ship, we appear to have whittled down their number sufficiently to make me believe that they will not achieve their objective.
<0041>
The Necrons have disappeared from our ship. This, though still eerie, is a good victory for us. Full damage assessments will come through shortly, though some sections will be slower at reporting damage as we have lost communication with several of the affected areas and will have to come via other areas. Superficial structure damage has already been noted in several areas. Our port side was most heavily affected. Shields on that side are at a reduced functional level from a combination of both heavy weapon usage and the Necron threat.
<0043>
A quick scan of the nearby ships indicates that we will be too late to help The Seeker. She has suffered too much damage to salvage and will surely buckle soon. May the Emperor guide their unfortunate souls through the Immaterium. It has been noted that the Angelica is suffering heavy, but sustainable, damage. The Mechanicus vessel is not responding well to communications, with transmissions being full of static and replies being relatively incoherent, but appears relatively structurally intact. I assume that they are doing reasonably well and are just unfortunate to have their communication centres under fire. We shall attempt to continue communication with them, but it is possible that we will lose all communication links with them due to the aforementioned assumption of their communication decks being involved in fighting. I intend to help the Angelica as soon as we know what sort of issues we have aboard the Interminable. Our smaller ships have been launched to guard against any Necron fleet and also to pick up any survivors that may have jettisoned from the other vessels.
<0055>
The Seeker has finally been destroyed. A plasma core has appeared to have been breached and the resultant explosion has made the hull buckle outwards, shattering some portions of the ship. May the Machine Spirit wreak glorious vengeance on the beings that did this to her.
<0101>
Both Angelica Archangelica and The Fourier are no longer responding in any fashion to our hails. I assume their communication systems have now been fully compromised.
Damage assessments are not yet complete, but it appears that the structure of our ship will be stable enough to attempt fast manoeuvres. I will start the procedure to get us closer to the Astartes vessel.
Space squadrons have made contact with the wreck of The Seeker and have begun the the extraction of their computer logs. No survivors have been found.
<0107>
Our ship has been hit! The attack has hit our port side and came from the direction of the Mechanicus vessel. No enemy vessels have been seen from any source. It is possible that Necron ships are out there and firing on us. The Mechanicus still do not respond to our calls.
The log extraction from the Explorator's hulk is complete and our ships are returning to us.
<0110>
Attacks are being launched from The Fourier and are aimed at us! We now see that it is the Mechanicus vessel attacking us! Communications still are unsuccessful. The call to brace for impact has been given.
<0116>
Several escape pods have been launched from the Angelica and are en route to us. Here's hoping that they may shed some light on the events from there.
<0132>
Our ship's port plasma engines are failing! Our damage is becoming critical on the port rear sections, and loss of several decks has occurred. For the sake of the lives of the men aboard this ship and to escape the confusion, I have decided to flee this space. Communication still has been unable to get through to both the Astartes and the apparent traitor Mechanicus vessel. Our orbit will be compromised if we take more hits and we will soon be unable to escape the planet's gravity well due to the damage to the plasma engines. I have set a course for mid-space and, from there, we shall attempt a warp-jump to any system closer to the Emperor's guiding light. We have sent solid communication beacons directly to the Astartes vessel detailing our next set of moves and advising that they should also make an attempt to escape. I can only hope that the Glowing Angels will continue to be as resilient as they are famed for because they will need to be in order to survive this onslaught. Only a handful of escape pods were able to be retrieved from space, our retreat must be in haste.
I hope the Emperor will have mercy on all of our souls.
<Relevance of Log Ends>
***** |
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(stop it, i can see you roll your eyes from here 
)
(stop it, i can see you roll your eyes from here 
)
