Location: Ur-Haven, Halo Alphos Planetary Governor Lord Cornelius Aarark sat at his desk, his brow matted with sweat he attempted to dab away with a silk kerchief. His tenure had been stable until recently, he had been faithfully serving in his post for just over a century. The Planetary Governor just three hundred years prior had been forcefully deposed due to corruption by the Inquisition which set the stage for his family to rise to power in the aftermath. Now an Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor and their retinue were here auditing his books and checking both the hive capital Halo Alphos and their sister hive Cycladon. Halo Alphos boasted the tallest spires and the largest forges on the planet. It proudly boasted a direct connection to the depot yards in orbit above where their most valuable export the Isolde-pattern Bulk clipper was built. The largest station in orbit was a large ring visible overhead that had originally inspired the city's name. He was a born and bred noble, of course, he had some minor skeletons in his closet, but nothing worth censuring by the Inquisition, he hoped. He had let the Inquisitor do whatever they wanted and thankfully most of their focus and time was spent in Cycladon. Though several weeks prior he had insisted on a communications blackout which Cornelius had followed to the letter. There was a knock at his door and the individual who shuffled in was one of his trusted subordinates, Nelt Brist. He was a lanky man with several cybernetics installed in his head and arm to help him manage the most vital communications. "My Lord." Nelt bowed low, but was constantly fidgeting back and forth. "The incoming transmissions have gotten worse. The individuals are no longer asking for a reply. They are…" Nelt gulped "Demanding a response immediately." Cornelius vaguely recalled Nelt sending him messages about incoming transmissions from vessels headed their way but the messages forwarded to him had been a few minor queries that he had brushed off. He had been hosting the Inquisitor at the time. The amount of unrest in both hives due to that strange warp phenomena in the sky had kept the Arbites extremely busy, and only added to Cornelius's stress along with the loss of all warp communication and the Navigators' concerns over the Astronomicon vanishing. The hive had captured twice the number of newly awakened psykers in just the past week which was good for the tithe but bad for the city. "We can't just end the blackout, the Inquisitor was insistent." Cornelius said with a frown. "Sir, please listen to this." Nelt looked around to make sure it was just them then lifted his datapad and played the end of the audio file. "If there isn't a Lord Inquisitor enforcing this blackout, then, I DON'T CARE WHY! YOU WILL RESPOND! End transmission." Cornelius looked flabbergasted "I… see well then I suppose we can reply. Just be curt and polite with them?" He suggested. Nelt nodded his head rapidly "Yes Sir, but your Lordship I don't know who I should respond to first. My knowledge of inter-organizational rankings is lacking. I am sorry." Nelt bowed extremely low, almost prostrating himself. "How many individuals require a response?" Cornelius asked, confused as he hadn't recalled there being more than one transmission in the original missive he skimmed. "Three, My Lord, their identification codes were all thoroughly verified. Do I reply to the Mechanicus Archmagos, the Lord Admiral Rogue Trader, or the Astartes Captain first?" Nelt asked, as he nervously wrung his hands together. Cornelius's rotund form stiffened and paled. He almost choked on his saliva as he forced himself to swallow and remember how to breathe. "THE WHAT!?" He screamed after nearly a minute of silent panic. Nelt cleared his throat "The Archmagos, The Rogue Trader, or the Star Dragon's 9th company Captain? Which do I respond to first, My Lord?" "How many ships are coming?!" Cornelius asked in panic, his voice cracking briefly. "Three according to the sensors on the Halo. One Firestorm Class Frigate, a Goliath Class Factory Ship, and then, well it's a Grand Cruiser and the flagship of the Drakios Rogue Trader Dynasty." Nelt whispered. "How… how long till they arrive?" Cornelius asked in a daze. "Less than two weeks. If we start preparing now the Halo might be able to have the berth for the flagship ready. The other two are small enough to use the general berths according to Enginseer Kiv." Nelt mumbled. Cornelius almost fainted, he had less than two weeks to get ready to host three VIPs. "The Rogue Trader first, then the Archmagos, then the Captain. Beg their forgiveness and keep communications open. When they call again I will apologize personally. The Inquisitor will understand. Tell Kiv to get the berth ready ASAP and inform Forge Magos Zeta 9-Kane about the Archmagos." Cornelius took a deep breath and focused "Nelt go now! I'm calling all my staff. We need to plan and get a proper reception ready, I need to prepare a gala and invite all the local nobles. One of the adepts needs to get me the records on House Drakios' preferences. Wait! Nelt do we know why they're here?" He asked and let himself hope for a brief moment. "Repairs on the two smaller vessels, Milord, they might be stuck here for a while like the rest, and following that I believe trade?" Nelt said from the doorway. "Prioritize their repairs. I… Throne! I don't even know the proper etiquette for hosting Astartes! Have the best guest spires cleaned and prepared." Cornelius yelled out for his secretaries "Bethany inform the Arbites, I'm permitting them to quell the unrest by any means necessary. Cost is no longer an issue! They can request aid from the Guard and PDF, even the Sororitas if they have to! We need things to be perfect! Millie go down to my library and look for a tome on etiquette for hosting Astartes." Cornelius tugged on his collar and winced. "Della… Call my wife and tell her she needs to return from the villa and get a new dress in under two weeks." —----------------------------------------------------------------------- I look around the forge, it feels a little odd to be back working on my custom hybrid jump pack after the Tyranid incident. Despite the shipwide event most of the Mechanicus is back to work as usual. Master Doll made the mistake of telling some of the high-ranking Enginseers of the possibility of an Ordinatus-Minoris weapon being onboard, and now half of them are spending their free time wandering around the ship with their auspex. Though it might have been an intentional leak to help distract them. I have my final plans for my custom jump pack design. It took far more iterative simulations than most would expect, but that was my fault since it draws power from my Potentia Coil. I wanted to maximize performance and efficiency while also keeping it lightweight, compact, and durable. I plan to still use it later when I make my personal powered armour. It shouldn't be too difficult since now Doll has the example Dragon Scale suit and plans to customize it for his use. The main issue with the ancient mechanicus pattern is each scale has to be individually hand-forged from adamantine and ceramite plating, woven with Prayers of Permanence and micro-etched with fractal incantations of defense. Then I need the hexagrammic wards in addition to all the other modifications. Master Doll mentioned he might be willing to show me some rare techniques used to craft Lathe-wrought armour. The only issue is the unique Lathe materials will be very limited even with my small frame. The whole suit needs to be precisely crafted down to the micrometer. Armour can wait for now as I slowly close up the casing on the jump pack. It doesn't look like much when it's all folded up and retracted, a small oblong metal backpack with a faint hexagon pattern over the shell. I slip off my robes passing them to one of my Scyllax. The robes will also get in the way when I fly so I'll need to adjust them with slits for the vents and wings or not wear my robes with it. I also pull my hair up into a tight ponytail binding it securely and tucking it under my armor to avoid getting a painful incidental haircut. I place the jump pack in a rack designed to hold it in place and then turn around, backing into it and lining up the correct ports on my neck and spine with the jacks on the jump pack. I let out a small hiss as they slide in and lock into place, feeling a brief moment of chill as the cool metal touches my skin in certain spots. I make a note to adjust and extend the gel pads that rest between my skin and the jump pack slightly in those areas. Unlike the interface ports which connect directly to one another the rest of the device needs a buffer to avoid chafing or uncomfortable rubbing against the metal shell is important. I could probably avoid the pads if I was wearing the jump pack on the outside of a power armour suit but for now comfort is king. "Initiating startup. Sides clear!" I warn the other Tech Priests nearby before mentally nudging the device. I made the jump pack from scratch, so the machine spirit within knows me intimately, and eagerly warms up the turbines. I feel the two new limbs link to my nervous system adding to my plethora of other mechanical limbs. I extend the wings, they unfurl in a graceful fluid motion to their full wingspan. The metallic limbs spread and the dark gray nano-carbon fibre-weave fabric went taut. The main body of the jump pack shifts to expose the intake and exhaust points of the shiny new turbines. Flowering open before settling and locking into the open position. I roll my shoulders and the motion ripples smoothly down each wing. Moving the new limbs takes me a few minutes to parse out as it's quite different compared to the flexible omnidirectional motions of my dendrites. I make a few minor adjustments to the programs responsible for interpreting my nervous signals as I go through some basic motions and stretches with the wings, flexing each joint and support brace. I went into this project intending to make something draconic and I think I succeeded. The metal has a hexagonal pattern that imitates scales, each of the wing support anchors has the tip sharpened to a lethal point, the intake and exhaust ports are far more subtle than other jump packs, and the darker carbon nanotube fabric material helps bring it all together. I play with the wings until I am satisfied with the level of responsiveness and feedback I am getting. "Initiating the second test. Stand clear!" I call out as I feed power to the now warm turbines and give a little hop upwards. The turbines flare to life and boost me vertically and slightly forward about a meter. I wobble at first, my limbs splayed wildly as I sway and struggle to balance myself with the gyro. I flap my wings a few times to balance myself as I hold the output and attempt to hover in place. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from NovelHub. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. I quickly realize that in order to hover I need to flap my new wings every few seconds to nudge myself backwards. Due to the angles of the various turbine exhausts, the jump pack is constantly trying to gently push me forward. I slowly put my legs together and cross my arms as I rotate in place by only manipulating the exhaust. A good number of Tech Priests are looking up at me as I flutter about. I check the power draw and find it was well below what I expected based on the data I had been provided. "I suppose my Potentia Coil is just a lot more potent than the standard variant." I feed the pack a little more power using that to climb up to one of the gantries near the ceiling and land on the edge of the gantry to perch. I consider the silver limbs and main body of the pack with the dark gray wing material and giggle. "You know I think I'll call this the Argent-pattern Jump Pack." I say before letting myself fall back into the open air and I glide down in a spiral, testing the performance of just the wings with the turbines on idle. I want to try going faster but I want to do that in a less hazardous location like the hangar, or one of the large open storage bays, or one of the training practice fields. "Test flight for the Argent-pattern Jump Pack successful." I say as I land and fold up the wings and power down the turbines. I watch how long it takes for them to cool down after use, which isn't long. Aside from occupying space on my back the weight isn't bad since it's distributed, and aside from occupying several of my spinal ports it's not that easy to notice. "Master Doll, the test flight has concluded. My Argent-pattern Jump Pack project is complete." I send Master Doll while also uploading the full schematics to the Mechanicum database. "I am aware. I was watching. Well done." Master Doll replies. He seems to have been avoiding me lately. Working on his super secret project in his private forge where I am not allowed. I am still banned from checking on Sword of Vengeance too. "Nicole, we will make port in nine days. In four days you will report to the vehicle bay for a special event. Please book the entire day in advance." As I read the reply I let out a high pitched excited squeal, drawing some confused looks from the Tech adepts I am walking past. I am pretty certain the special event is my first ride in Sword of Vengeance. I immediately plug the event into my schedule for that day. The Teleportarium has started operating and undergoing trials. We had a small celebration the other day for that. The Tech Priests in charge of the Teleportarium sent a box over to the Adamant Hammer. The box arrived with its contents intact and they have been trying various materials and larger things since. They are even planning to try a servitor and then a person soon. One lucky individual gets to have their stay in the brig halved by being a guinea pig to test the 'send and recall' function of one of the teleport homers. "Four days to search the ship?" My personal map sits at just over ninety percent complete, but no more glaring voids or lost sections have revealed themselves. Yet. "Sounds like it's time to hunt for an Ordinatus." I check my schedule only to pause and turn towards the nearest lift "Hunting for the Ordinatus after my Psyker lessons of course!" I also need to go to the armory and check on my recent draft loot. I know I have a plethora of heavy weapons in the Munitorum which I could move to my personal Vault to give TOOB some friends. I still need to figure out what I am going to do with the Dimachaeron limb. I am considering dipping the entire thing in adamantine, slapping it on a big metal pole, and turn it into some kind of a spear for the Sword of Vengeance. The sickle claws themselves are three times my height in length, not including the rest of the limb. The absolutely ridiculously big claws are not exactly a common material to work with. Maybe I'll bring up my idea with the Techmarines tomorrow. —------------------------------------------------------------------------- Forge Magos Zeta 9-Kane, Fabricator-Master and Voidwright of the Ur-Haven depot yards was currently livid with one Cornelius Aarark. He had been kept out of the loop and hadn't been informed of the incoming communications until earlier that morning. An Archmagos of The Lathes was coming. Not only that, according to some of the exchanged data, there were several other high-ranking Magi coming, including a Venatorii. Zeta 9-Kane had traded his lower extremities for a disk and several small mechanical legs that aided him when maneuvering in low or zero gravity while also retaining his in-gravity mobility. A large industrial servo-arm over one shoulder and a servo-claw of equal size over the other, along with several smaller dendrites sprouting from his slightly hunched back. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ N0velFire.ɴet Now he had to prepare a berth in the depot for a glorious and ancient Grand Cruiser in two weeks when he should have had a month and a half! And not just any grand cruiser but The Argent Drake itself?! Many of the Magi familiar with the vessel throughout the Segmentum regarded it as a holy relic bristling with wondrous Archeotech, as they should. There have circulated rumors that individuals who petitioned to visit the vessel sometimes returned with their comprehension enhanced or with wondrous knowledge from the vessel itself or the skilled magi aboard. Magi, who were en route to him that very second. They were coming to his forges to tour his facilities. Facilities that were operating at 12.263 % under peak efficiency!? "Unacceptable!" He screeched in binary and slammed the hilt of his Omnissian Axe on the steel floor. Servitors rushed to follow his commands, and the various tech adepts and priests all knew better than to question the orders of the Magos when he was so obviously incensed. —---------------------------------------------------------------------- Arken looked across the table at his beloved granddaughter Arianwyn as they met for a private luncheon. "Arianwyn dear, please, I need your full attention for this." He coaxed Arianwyn out of her meandering version of a story she regaled him with. One she had read about in the library. "Hmmm? What is it, Grandpa?" Arianwyn asked him while looking puzzled. "Earlier today I ratified an alliance between House Cavalerio and our Dynasty." He told her softly. "Oh! That's good. We're officially friends with Nicole, right?" Arianwyn said, smiling brightly. "Yes, but you need to understand the context. This is a pact between our Houses. Our Dynasty encompasses our whole family, our territory, and everyone under us. Now Nicole's House, what does it encompass?" He asked Arianwyn as his words helped guide her to the point he wanted to make. "It's just Nicole and a few guards, isn't it?" Arianwyn said with a furrowed brow as she sipped her tea. "Yes. Nicole is the Matriarch, of course, but not just that, for all intents and purposes, she is her House. Let me ask a hypothetical question, and you give a response. If someone viscerally or violently threatened Nicole, how would you respond?" Drakios asked before he took a slow drink. "Have the guards take them away?" Arianwyn answered hesitantly. "What if they were a powerful noble or a political figure?" Arken added quickly. "I… I don't know. Threaten them, or something?" Arianwyn muttered with a frown, not quite getting the point. "What would you do, Grandpa?" "Orbitally bombard their holdings from orbit and exterminate their House." Arken stated as Arianwyn stared at him aghast. "Is my response overkill? Perhaps, but legally, such a reaction is entirely feasible and within the bounds of our pact. The alliance document is simple, and the words are straightforward, but that's because there is no room for misinterpretation. Nicole is both a person and now a political entity with whom we are bound. Threats to her person equate to threats against her entire House and her threats are our threats. If someone threatened our Dynasty how would you respond?" Arken asked with a small smile. "Orbital… bombardment." Arianwyn squeaked out as she leaned back in her chair. "But that's crazy!" "It's the letter of the law, one of the few we are required to heed. Nicole is an investment for the future. I am not sure if you know, but I have spoken with Chief Chirurgeon Gertrude and Archmagos Doll. Nicole is expected to have a long lifespan. Exactly how long is not certain, but I fully expect when I am long dead and it comes time for you to inherit the Dynasty from your mother, Nicole will still be here. Nicole went from having no memories to an individual the Mechanicus and Astartes would kill for to ensure her safety in under a month. A Forge world somewhere owes her a Titan. Just being a Princeps and allying with a Titanicus House would have been enough, but there's far more to all of this than that, Arianwyn." Arken got up and walked around the table to place his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them gently. "I'm old, I have seen a great many things, among them I have seen risky opportunities, dangerous opportunities, and opportunities that skirt the limits of our warrant, appear in front of me. This particular opportunity worries me greatly, but not in the way you might think. What you saw her do that day in the observation dome was Nicole directing the wrath of the ship itself, and The Argent Drake listens to her. Every single part of the ship has worked better since she spoke with the ship's ancient machine spirit. I've seen it, subtly helping the crew and anticipating their needs. A thousand unnoticeable and minor changes that cascade into massive increases in efficiency. The Argent Drake will fight to keep her safe and those she cares about. Which now includes you, my dear. Not just as her friend but as the House which she has allied herself with." Arken was staring into Arianwyn's wide eyes as she tried to comprehend what he was telling her. "Don't worry, dear, you'll have a chance to see for yourself the sort of thing I am talking about when we make port and Nicole goes out to visit the station, and the main hive. If the station and hive are deemed secure to my standards, you may also end up joining her on some excursions." Arken stepped back from Arianwyn and stretched. "Now, how about another quick fencing lesson? Have I told you about the time I had a duel with a rival just to take your Grandmother out for courting?" Arken asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Arianwyn groaned as she recalled her last 'lesson' that had left her sore and aching. "Yes, Grandpa you have!" Despite her grumbles, Arianwyn got out of her chair and grabbed her blade.