Eric P. Caillibot's Blog, page 6

Sinerian Renaissance – Episode 5

The assault shuttle rattled as it penetrated Shinfuken’s atmosphere. Lokus looked up reflexively from the map of the Shinfuken Command complex that he was studying. Alarak sat facing him across the narrow aisle, the expression on his strangely bloated face impassive, the lid over his third eye quivering slightly. Lokus reflected that the navigator was likely focused on his unfathomable warp senses. He shook his head in wonder and glanced around the rest of the shuttle.

Every seat was occupied, mostly with crew serfs nervously inspecting their lasguns. They had no idea where they were going or why. They had no business knowing either, that was Lokus’ job. He had earned that privilege, that responsibility, and he took it very seriously.

Shinfuken. The first planet he had helped to claim for the Sinerian dynasty, to whom he owed everything.

“First to claim, and first to lose,” Lokus mused. He turned his forearm over to look at the barcode tattooed on the inside of his wrist, thinking back to the day Tiberius had taken him in from the slavers. He clenched his fist and slammed it on his knee. Shinfuken rightfully belonged to the Sinerians, and he would not allow any Gamoran or AI to stand in the way of him reclaiming it.

The shuttle shook violently as it descended, provoking cries of alarm from the serfs. At the opposite end of the shuttle from Lokus, sat Phi Rho 81. The explorator shook his head at Nero’s piloting, but then a thought occurred to him. Could Tetsuwan be interfering with the shuttle’s systems even now? He cycled through all of the vox channels, scanning for any suspicious data fragments or encoding, but found nothing. He dismissed the idea for the present, but did not relax, knowing his enemy’s reach too well to grow complacent. As an afterthought, he accessed the map of the Shinfuken Command complex from the Enterprise’s data banks and downloaded it to his memory coils in an instant.

The shuttle landed with a jarring impact and the bay door opened immediately, its edge slamming into the rockcrete of the tarmac. The cramped shuttle was flooded with bright sunlight and the smell of promethium fumes.

“Planetfall! Let’s go!” Lokus shouted and the occupants began freeing themselves from their harnesses, squinting in the sudden light.

A chimera armored personnel carrier rolled to a stop near the shuttle as the Sinerians disembarked. Three guardsmen climbed out and snapped to attention as the Sinerian senior staff approached them.

“Welcome to Shinfuken Command, sirs,” said one of the soldiers. Nero identified the man as a sergeant, recognizing the rank insignia on his combat fatigues.

Phi Rho 81 ignored the soldiers, more interested in their vehicle. From its markings, he quickly identified it as having come from a manufactorum on Holy Mars.

Lokus looked over the command complex. “Not very impressive,” he commented to the guardsmen.

It had clearly been commandeered from the natives for the Imperial Garrison’s use. It’s reflective white walls contrasted sharply with the dark metal that had been installed where the windows had been, turning the building into a grim bunker.

“Uh… let me introduce ourselves,” the sergeant continued. “I’m Sergeant Jasper Nyx, this is Corporal Gunter Krepp, our medic, and this is Trooper Hendrick Clide. We’re to escort you inside.”

The Sinerian senior staff filed aboard the vehicle, along with a handful of crew serfs.

“We weren’t expecting such a large delegation,” sergeant Nyx explained apologetically. “The rest of your people will have to walk to the base.”

If anyone was unhappy about the situation, they didn’t show it. As the chimera got under way, Lokus began relaying instructions to the sergeant.

“To complete our operation, we need all personnel cleared out of the cogitator array room, especially any servitors.”

“Can you really do it, sir?” Corporal Krepp interrupted. “Can you get our tech working again?”

“No bloody way,” scoffed Trooper Clide from the driver’s seat.

“Secure that shit, Clide,” the sergeant barked.

“We’ve done it before,” Lokus replied confidently, nodding to Phi Rho 81, who returned the gesture calmly.

The vehicle came to a stop just outside the building and Nyx led the group through the complex, into the cogitator array room. The sergeant ordered the last few stragglers out of the way, while the accompanying Sinerian crew serfs moved to secure the room’s entrances.

“Alright, Phi Rho 81,” said Lokus, “it’s your show now.”

“Bring me the tech-priests assigned to your garrison,” Phi Rho 81 ordered to the sergeant.

Nyx relayed the instructions across the vox and three red-robed initiates joined the group within minutes. Phi Rho conferred with them quietly in techna-lingua, learning of the difficulties they had faced in the previous months. From their accounts, Phi Rho realized that Tetsuwan’s interference had likely begun around the time that Shinfuken had been brought into compliance, although there had been a sharp increase in technological problems since the previous month.

Phi Rho ordered the initiates to construct defensive firewalls to shield his efforts, but refused to explain the full scope of the crisis to them. With little more than a nod to his companions, the explorator jacked into the cogitator array and began his cleansing.

Lokus gave Phi Rho 81 a smile of encouragement, but discreetly pulled his inferno pistol free of its holster. The memory of the struggle aboard the Enterprise’s bridge remained all too fresh in his mind.

Phi Rho proceeded cautiously at first, encountering resistance almost immediately.

“You again,” Tetsuwan communicated to the explorator. “Follower of the false God, you will not best me here.”

“With the Omnissiah at my back,” Phi Rho replied, “you cannot stop me.”

Working increasingly quickly and aggressively, the tech-priest cut off all data traffic between the Shinfuken Command complex and the rest of the planet. Every maneuver that Tetsuwan tried was deftly countered by Phi Rho and the AI soon began losing control of its prize.

As the agents of the mechanicum worked, Alarak overheard alarming chatter on the vox. An armed squad of Gamoran personnel was approaching the site and they had detected the presence of the Sinerians. Acting on an intuition that he knew better than to question, the navigator immediately reached out with his psychic senses. Reassuringly, the enemy force did not seem to include any psykers.

“We’ve got company,” Alarak announced, directing his companions to the relevant vox channel.

“We need this base on lockdown,” Lokus replied as he listened to the chatter.

“On my way to ops,” said Nero, already heading out of the room.

“The Gamorans have seized our shuttles,” Alarak relayed, his fists clenching.

“Get me general Vance,” Lokus barked into his micro-bead. He was briefly bounced between communication technicians before the general answered.

“It’s time, general,” Lokus announced confidently. “Activate your base defenses and take those Gamorans out.”

“Damn it, Lokus!” the old Guardsman shouted back. “You haven’t delivered yet. As far as I’m concerned, that’s an official government delegation out there, demanding your heads.”

“We’re already seeing improvements,” Lokus shouted back. “We just need a little more time. Do not let those scum into this base under any circumstances. Stall them, damn it!”

“I have stalled them!” Vance fumed. “I’m all out of excuses. Buy your own time!”

“Fine!” Lokus conceded. “Patch me through to their commander.”

“This is Adjutant Dane Pratt,” came a growling voice over the vox. “Surrender now Sinerian scum and we’ll make your execution painless. We might even spare some of your people. We could use some new servitors.”

“This planet is in Sinerian jurisdiction,” Lokus replied calmly. “Your government is unlawful and you have no authority over us. Disband immediately and we will consider sparing you.”

Phi Rho 81 did not slow his efforts until every byte of every data coil had been systematically cleansed. With the work completed in incredible time, he looked up and signalled to Lokus.

Pumping a fist in the air, Lokus cut off his conversation with the Gamoran commander and connected with general Vance once again.

“It’s done, general,” Lokus declared triumphantly. “Execute those interlopers.”

Vance sighed as he scanned his readouts, confirming Lokus’ claim. “I can’t believe I’m about to give this order,” he said tiredly, switching off the link.

Bursting into the operations center, Nero saw an exhausted-looking Vance emerge from his office. He paused, looking around at his operations staff. He noticed Nero at last and straightened to his full height, his fatigue replaced by determination. He signalled to be patched through to the entire base.

“Attention all personnel,” he began. “This is General Vance. A new day is dawning on Shinfuken. A Sinerian delegation has arrived on site to enforce their claim to this world, rightfully granted by decree of the Adminstratum. They have the capability to counteract our technical problems and have already restored the systems on this base to full working order. As of this moment, all Imperial garrison personnel will support their claim and work to remove the illegal Gamoran government.”

Vance gestured to kill the channel and the room erupted with murmuring. Pointing to a nearby lieutenant, the general continued.

“Activate all anti-personnel systems and target the Gamoran forces on our doorstep.”

The operations personnel rushed to comply, but Nero stepped over to the nearest turret control station and shoved the junior guardsman out of the way.

“I’ll show you how it’s done,” said the void master as he expertly targeted the enemy and opened fire. He watched the Gamoran forces scramble to reach the cover of their vehicles, but the ferocity of the fully functional defenses mowed down the soldiers and within seconds, their armored personnel carriers were shredded as well. When the guns fell silent just moments later, there were no survivors.

“Site secured,” Nero voxed to his companions.

Phi Rho 81 remained jacked into the cogitator array, already focused on their next step. Scanning through terabytes of data in milliseconds, he reviewed the base’s records going back to the end of the war of compliance. With the advantage of hindsight and knowledge about Tetsuwan’s nature, he quickly identified clues and a pattern began to emerge. He had soon identified the point of origin of Tetsuwan’s incursion into the capital city’s infrastructure. It was the same site that had showed intense energy signatures during his scans from orbit. The records showed that the site had been an advanced research facility before the arrival of the Imperium. Phi Rho knew exactly what the Shinfukens’ research had been focused on without reading any further. Separating from the base’s cogitators at last, Phi Rho joined his companions who were already deep into their planning.

“We have a secured landing zone,” Alarak was saying. “Let’s bring down more of our crew, another thousand even. We need the numbers to produce a convincing show of force.”

Lokus nodded and added “we need to spread the word to the population that the rightful Sinerian government has returned to Shinfuken to liberate the planet from Gamoran oppression and to usher in a new era of prosperity. We need to tell them that Shinfuken Command has already been freed of the pervasive technical problems that have been affecting the city. Now is the time for citizens to rise up and take up arms, provided right here by the Imperial garrison.”

“The systems outside the base are still unreliable, but we can get Vance to send people out with bullhorns, if necessary” Nero chimed in.

“I have located Tetsuwan Atomu’s point of origin,” Phi Rho 81 revealed, prompting an abrupt silence. He explained about his discoveries in detail.

“So do we take on the AI first, or finish with the Gamorans?” asked Nero.

“If we defeat Tetsuwan,” Alarak reasoned, “the Gamorans will be in a much stronger position, inside a fully functional base. That may work against us.”

“Right,” Lokus agreed. “We take the capital building first, then we deal with the AI.”

“Vance says he can mobilize fifteen hundred troops,” Nero related, “fifty chimeras and twenty tarantula guns. Combined with our crew serfs, we should handily outnumber the Gamorans.”

“We surround their building,” Lokus continued. “We hit them with snipers, tear gas and demand their surrender. Then Vance’s forces go in and pull out whoever is left inside.”

The Sinerain senior staff all nodded in agreement. Lokus gave them an evil smile.

“They don’t stand a chance. Shinfuken is ours!”

The post Sinerian Renaissance – Episode 5 appeared first on Eric P Caillibot.

Uzog Stormbringer

Based on Wizards of the Coast’s Dungeons & Dragons (5e)

The door to the tavern flew open, letting in a cold blast of wind that made every candle in the overcrowded hall flicker. A hulking, brooding figure stood outlined in the doorway as a rumble of thunder erupted in the distance. A tense hush fell across the room as every pair of eyes turned toward the menacing stranger. He remained motionless for several long moments before moving purposefully into the room, muttering angrily. The tavern door slammed shut behind him, as if of its own accord. He was heavily burdened, wearing sparkling chain mail, a helm with curving horns, an adventurer’s backpack, a shield, and a heavy warhammer, which hung from his belt. As the dim light fell upon the stranger’s face, the crowd of humans gawked at his low, sloping brow, protruding teeth and grey skin, which marked him clearly as a half-orc. Nervous and angry murmurs arose among the patrons. The stranger’s frown deepened and electricity arced across his eyes as he swung his malevolent gaze from one speaker to the next, silencing them instantly. Emitting a threatening growl for good measure, the stranger walked slowly toward the bar, his heavy footsteps the only sound above the crackling fire in the hearth.

Reaching the bar, he sat down on a stool that groaned audibly under his weight, threatening to collapse. The terrified bartender stared mutely at the new arrival, his mouth agape.

“I am Uzog Stormbringer,” the half-orc introduced himself to the bartender, loudly enough for all to hear.

A new wave of muttering erupted throughout the room as the patrons recognized the name.

Uzog kept his back turned to the crowd, a slight grin spreading across his lips. He watched the bartender sweat for a moment before speaking again.

“A pint of mead!” he commanded. “And another for all of my new friends here!” He spun on his stool as he spoke, raising his arms to encompass the entire room.

A moment of stunned silence followed the announcement, followed by several hearty cheers. Uzog turned back to the bar and watched with amusement as the bartender scrambled to fill the order, beginning with the new arrival. Uzog eavesdropped on the tables nearby as he casually sipped his drink.

“… ‘eard he burned a whole village to the ground with a lightning storm,” a hushed voice said nearby.

“Nonsense! Didn’t you see his emblem? He’s a priest of Thor! He slew ol’ Backbreaker, didn’ he?” answered another conspirator.

Grabbing hold of his mead, Uzog stomped over to the table whose conversation he had overheard and sat down. The two men recoiled at the intrusion, but tried to cover their reactions.

“I did burn down that village,” Uzog began, “but they deserved it. I didn’t quite slay Captain Agog Backbreaker, if truth be told, but since you’re interested,” he glared at both men through narrowed eyes, “I’ll tell you the tale.”

 

* * *

The rowdy crew of orc pirates cheered as their first mate kicked the prisoner in the ribs with a sickening crunch. The impact spun the human on to his back, where he rocked from side to side, gasping for air. Grinning widely, the first mate stalked the fallen human, raising a ham fist to deliver a vicious backhand blow.

“Enough!” called a gruff voice and the first mate halted, a look of astonishment spreading across his mottled face.

All eyes turned toward a malnourished half-orc, holding a bucket of slop. The young man wilted under the hostile attention of his crewmates and attempted to return quietly to his chores.

“Got sumfink ter say, wittle man?” mocked the first mate, intercepting the half-orc before he could skulk off.

“It’s just…” the young man began hesitantly, “why not just kill him already?”

“Just kill ‘im?” roared the first mate in amusement. “What would be da fun in that?”

The orc crew jeered in approval, quickly losing interest in the human in favour of this new diversion.

“I fink me boys ‘ave earned a bit of sport,” came a booming voice from behind the first mate.

The mate’s expression became serious and he stepped back respectfully, making way for the speaker. Captain Agog Backbreaker stepped forward and leaned into the young man, who backpedalled awkwardly, spilling his bucket. Backbreaker was the only other half-orc aboard the ship, but there was little in common between him and his counterpart. At seven feet tall, he towered over everyone else aboard the Black Wind. Rippling muscle stretched his mottled grey skin, seemingly threatening to burst outward with every movement. Despite his bulk, he moved nimbly and with easy confidence. He held his greataxe in one hand, carelessly resting the blade on his leather-clad shoulder.

“But I am tired ov da ‘uman’s pathetic noises,” the Captain sneered into the young man’s face. “So why don’t you give me some peace an’ quiet? OK?”

Backbreaker gestured with his free hand and one of his crew immediately stepped forward, handing him a battered sabre, marred with dried blood. Without breaking eye contact with the smaller half-orc, the Captain took the sword and shoved it roughly into the young man’s hands.

“Go on, cabin boy,” he urged darkly.

The young man took the blade and made his way through the snorting orcs toward the human who still lay where he had fallen. He had managed to catch his breath and watched the cabin boy approaching with naked dread.

“P-please… n-no…” muttered the man, feebly holding up one shaking hand.

The half-orc took a fighting stance and slowly raised the sabre, his eyes fixed on the human’s pleading face.

“Please… please, I have a family… My family needs me…” begged the man.

The half-orc looked around, into the jeering faces of his crewmates as they howled for blood. Resolving himself, he looked down upon the human again, preparing to strike.

“Please…” the man whimpered pathetically, “please help me.”

The half-orc had begun to swing, but the man’s plea stopped his arm. He lowered the sabre, his expression hardening.

“Do it, cabin boy,” Backbreaker commanded again. “Or ye walk the plank.”

The young man turned his back on the human and squared his shoulders as he faced his captain.

“My name is Uzog,” he spat defiantly. “And I’m through taking orders from you.”

The excited jeers of his crewmates at his suicidal impertinence were drowned out by a sudden peal of thunder that shook the deck of the Black Wind. Backbreaker glanced skyward despite himself, before regaining his composure.

“Be you challenging me, boy?” the captain sneered with a grin, hefting his greataxe.

“Aye,” answered Uzog proudly.

Backbreaker charged forward, swinging his axe into the deck where Uzog had stood a split second earlier. The orcs spread out, forming a wide circle around the duelling half-orcs. Lightning forked across the sky, forming crazy shadows across the deck and a light rain began to fall.

Uzog darted in, slashing his sword, but only managed to bite into the thick leather pants protecting Backbreaker’s left leg. The pirate captain planted a vicious right hook on Uzog’s head, sending him stumbling. The young man recovered just in time to duck under another axe blow powerful enough the cleave him in two. He tried to counter but received the haft of Backbreaker’s axe across his nose, shattering it and throwing him to the deck. His sabre slipped from his grasp and spun away, while stars danced in front of his eyes.

The rain intensified, becoming a heavy downpour. Uzog struggled to his feet but lost his balance and collapsed. He blinked furiously, trying to clear his eyes. Backbreaker laughed vociferously and the rest of the crew joined him.

“Parfetic weakling,” Backbreaker screamed. “I ‘ad such ‘igh ‘opes fer you. But no longer.”

He towered over Uzog and raised his axe over his head, poised for an execution. Suddenly, a blinding bolt of lightning struck the tip of the weapon and ripped through the captain’s body. His howls of pain were drowned out by the accompanying boom of thunder. Uzog had just enough time to notice the wind suddenly intensifying before the Black Wind was rocked by violent waves. Uzog slid across the deck and slammed into a bulkhead.

“Secure the rigging!” screamed the first mate, as the ship swayed crazily. “Move it, ye bilge rats!”

Forked lightning struck again, dropping a pair of smoking orc corpses from among the mass of crew rushing to deal with the unexpected storm. Uzog looked up to the heavens in wonder, unafraid of the sudden elemental assault. A heavy thud drew his attention to the deck next to him and a flash of lightning illuminated the warhammer that lay there. A sense of purpose filling him, Uzog grasped the weapon by its hilt and rose to his feet.

Backbreaker was picking himself up off the deck, already shouting orders. Uzog shouted a wordless challenge and surged forward, brandishing his new weapon. The captain pivoted to face him in an instant and met his crushing hammer blow with his axe, which rang like a single note from a funeral toll. The first mate and a handful of others took notice and drew their weapons, ducking under wildly flailing strands of sail and rigging.

Uzog pressed his onslaught, raining relentless attacks on his former captain from every direction. Backbreaker parried or sidestepped most of the strikes, but grunted in pain as several found their mark. He finally countered with a brutal axe stroke, but Uzog ducked under it and slammed his warhammer into the captain’s knee, visibly shattering it. Backbreaker cried out and fell heavily, dropping his greataxe.

The first mate immediately slashed at Uzog with his cutlass, but he spun in time to avoid it and retaliated. The mate parried but the hammer blow sent his sword spinning out of his hand. Another orc darted in, but was stopped in his tracks as a blinding bolt of lightning struck him. Uzog turned his face skyward and exulted in the storm for a moment before focusing on the first mate once again, who had pulled a serrated dagger from his belt. They sparred for a few moments, until a rogue wave crashed across the deck, throwing them both across the ship. Uzog held on to his warhammer and quickly found his feet again. Another orc came at him, but Uzog sent him over the side of the ship with an uppercut swing of his weapon.

“Rocks!” came an orc’s terrified scream from across the ship. “Rocks ahead!”

Uzog felt his stomach drop just before the Black Wind crashed into the shoals. The half-orc felt himself tossed into the air as the ship destroyed itself. He felt a painful collision and then nothing.

 

* * *

Uzog drained the last of his mead and slammed his mug on the table, rattling the four identical, empty mugs already on it. The two men at the table watched him with rapt attention, eager for the tale’s conclusion. A small crowd of others stood or sat around the table, having gravitated toward Uzog as the story had progressed. The rest of the tavern was now deserted, save for the exhausted bartender who was half-heartedly cleaning up.

“When I regained consciousness at last,” Uzog continued. “I found myself floating on some debris from the Black Wind. Surprisingly, the human prisoner had survived and was also floating nearby. We were surrounded by the wreckage of the ship and by bloated orc corpses. I checked the bodies, spitting on each one in turn.”

A chuckle ran through the audience and Uzog smiled.

“I was only too glad to be rid of my crewmates. But Backbreaker’s body wasn’t among them.”

“He must have sunk!” exclaimed one of the listeners.

“Yeah, dragged under by that greataxe,” added another.

Uzog shook his head slowly and waited for silence before continuing.

“No,” he said softly. “As sure as I know that it was Thor who called me to his service that day, I know that Backbreaker is still out there somewhere. In fact,” he added dramatically, “I’ve heard rumours of him in this very area!”

The crowd collectively gasped and the bartender dropped a mug that shattered on the floor. Uzog nodded seriously.

“And that, my friends, is why I’m off,” he said, slapping the table and rising to his feet. Uzog made his way to the door, giving and receiving spirited claps on the back as he went. With a final wave, he closed the door behind him and was gone.

Most of the patrons began filing out behind him, saying their farewells. One man headed over to speak with the bartender.

“That was some story, wasn’t it?” the man said jovially. “Can you believe that was the Uzog Stormbringer? Didn’t seem like such a bad bloke after all. By the way, how did he manage to pay for all those rounds of mead? Pirate gold? Gemstones?”

The bartender looked up from his cleaning and gave the man a sour look.

“He didn’t pay,” he growled.

 

The post Uzog Stormbringer appeared first on Eric P Caillibot.

Sinerian Renaissance – Episode 4

Nero listened with impatience to the junior officer as she finished her status report. The Holy Enterprise’s systems remained rife with malfunctions, following Tetsuwan Atomu’s infiltration, but none of them posed a significant risk at the moment. Whatever Phi Rho had done, he seemed to have thwarted the hostile artificial intelligence.

Nero abruptly dismissed the officer and called Hundred Eyes to take over the bridge, satisfied that his direct intervention was no longer needed. He listened to his micro-bead as the away team finished dispatching the group of armed servitors that had intercepted them aboard the Discovery.

“Nero, status,” called Lokus over the vox loop.

“The Enterprise is secure,” answered the void master.

“Good,” answered the acting captain. “We’re approaching the Discovery’s bridge.”

“It looks worse than I thought,” Alarak’s voice broke into the loop.

“It would be illogical for us to engage the servitor horde directly,” opined Phi Rho 81.

Nero did not like what he was hearing. Being separated from the only people in his life that he cared about brought back painful memories. Memories of the Pariah. The memory of the look of horror and pleading on Kamal Haasan’s face as their mutual brother was gunned down by a toothless void pirate. Nero felt his pulse quicken. He had lost all of his brothers that day, the only family he had ever known. He was not about to lose anyone else.

“I’m on my way,” Nero called into his micro-bead, doubling his pace.

“Good,” replied Lokus. “Bring reinforcements.”

Nero began issuing orders across the vox as he moved, arranging for another hundred crewmen to grab lasguns from the armoury and meet him in the launch bay.

 

Lokus helped Phi Rho 81 pull open an access hatch in the corridor leading away from the Discovery’s bridge, while Alarak kept a lookout behind them. The explorator’s utility mechadendrite whipped over his head and interfaced with the cogitator access point behind the panel. He immediately felt the Discovery’s machine spirit and began analyzing what remained of Tetsuwan’s presence, following the destruction of the primary cogitator banks.

“We’ve got company!” Alarak shouted, mere moments later.

The others turned and saw four utility servitors sprinting down the corridor toward them, brandishing servo-fists and whirring chain-axes. A gene-bulked servitor followed them, awkwardly gripping an autogun in its overly muscular hands. Apparently unconcerned with the risk of damaging its fellows, the bulky servitor began saturating the corridor with solid projectiles. The explorers reacted instinctively, keeping their heads down as they ran into the adjoining corridors to take cover from the onslaught.

Lokus was the first to recover from the attack and quickly returned fire with his inferno pistol, blasting the foot off the lead servitor. Phi Rho and Alarak took turns leaning around the corner and firing into the advancing attackers, scorching and shredding body parts and cybernetic augmetics.

Hearing the gunfire ahead, Nero sprinted ahead of his troops filing out of the cargo bay,  where the servitor greeting party’s corpses still lay. He rounded the next corner and came up behind the gene-bulked servitor. Nero immediately pulled out his bolt pistol and opened fire. His target took notice and impassively turned its autogun on him. Nero was stunned for a moment under the sudden hail of fire, before quickly realizing that his armour seemed to be proof against the weapon.

The barrage of fire from Alarak, Phi Rho and Lokus steadily chewed through the advancing servitors, although their grievous injuries did nothing to dissuade them. Even the servitor with a lost foot continued to crawl forward on hands and knees, the teeth of its chain axe sparking against the metallic floor.

Within seconds, two of the automatons had closed the gap with the explorers. Phi Rho drew his power axe and swung it into his adversary. Its blade bit into pale flesh, but it did little to slow the living machine.

Lokus broke into a cold sweat as he found himself holding an empty pistol, sidestepping his attacker’s furious servo-fists.

Suddenly, crackling, chaotic energy filled the corridor. Lokus and Phi Rho 81 watched in amazement as all four nearby servitors blazed in unnatural, blue flames for a moment before exploding in a horrific shower of blood and metallic fragments. The two explorers turned to face Alarak, behind them, and just glimpsed the navigator’s third eye closing as a grin spread across his bloated face.

Nero heard the gene-bulked servitor’s autogun click empty and charged headlong, blasting his pistol as his enemy attempted to reload. The exploding bolt shells ripped chunks of meat and machinery off their target before a headshot stunned the servitor, sending it crashing to the floor.

Lokus, Phi Rho 81 and Alarak caught up to Nero as he calmly placed the barrel of his pistol against the enemy’s head and executed it without pity.

“I will resume my connection to the Discovery,” said Phi Rho 81, slinging his hellgun across his back and returning to the cogitator access point, his mechadendrite twitching in apparent anticipation.

“Talon, do you read me?” Lokus called into his micro-bead.

“Still here,” replied the veteran Guardsman.

“Reinforcements are moving in now,” Lokus said, vigorously waving the newly arrived crewmen onward to the bridge.

The nervous conscripts screamed and charged in, their lasguns blazing. Lokus, Nero and Alarak followed them in, barking orders and opening fire on the now flanked servitor army.

Phi Rho 81’s mind raced along the circuits of the Discovery, detecting traces of Tetsuwan everywhere and quickly erasing or quarantining them. He wrested control of defense turrets on the bridge and turned them against the servitors as he worked. Finally finishing his work, he keyed the ship-wide vox.

“Cease all activities,” he commanded in techna-lingua.

The servitors immediately held their fire and stood passively, even as they continued to be gunned down by the boarding forces.

“We’re not taking any chances,” Lokus declared. “Terminate them all.”

When the final servitor collapsed, the dead were tallied. The boarding troops had lost only fifteen of their number, all of whom were dragged back to the assault shuttles, destined for the Enterprise’s crew reclamation facility.

Lokus quickly organized a skeleton crew of two hundred to take over the Discovery. Their orders being to strip everything of value from the ship, while keeping a careful eye open for any surviving traces of the AI.

 

Back aboard the Enterprise, Phi Rho 81 initiated a detailed sensor sweep of the planet and its orbit. Analyzing the resulting data, he concluded that Shinfuken was ringed by debris from the Medusa and the Cerberus, among other defeated vessels and human remains. He shook his head in disappointment, not that anyone had been holding out much hope that the Sinerian vessels left behind to guard the new colony had survived the coordinated Gamoran offensive. He took some comfort from not detecting any debris from the Acheron, which had transported the Sinerian colonists allocated to Shinfuken. On the surface of the planet, the explorator detected only half a dozen areas showing concentrated energy use. The capital city shone the brightest, followed by an unidentified zone one hundred and fifty kilometers to the West.

Alarak opened his warp senses to the space outside the Enterprise and immediately felt faint traces of identities from the innumerable dead. He found some solace in the realization that the Gamoran forces had also suffered heavy losses here.

Lokus scanned through signals leaking from the planet into space, picking up miscellaneous news feeds and communications. He discovered evidence of four active factions: the Imperial planetary defense force, the Gamoran colonial government, Shinfuken’s surviving native population and the Sinerian colonists. The Imperial and Gamoran groups were clearly struggling to contain growing unrest among the other factions.

The senior staff discussed their reconnaissance. The obvious course of action, they agreed, was to make contact with the Imperial planetary defence forces. Lokus hailed the capital city, using standard Imperial frequencies.

A tense-looking communication technician’s enlarged face appeared on the bridge’s primary viewscreen. Lokus impatiently demanded to speak to the Imperial base’s commander, thoroughly intimidating the unfortunate underling.

“This is General Vance.” The technician’s image was replaced by a stern-faced man of advanced age, with an augmetic right eye surrounded by extensive scar tissue. “I’m a busy man, Seneschal Lokus. Be brief.”

“We are representatives of Tiberius Sinerian,” Lokus began haughtily. “By decree of the Adeptus Administratum, this planet belongs to the Sinerian dynasty. I demand that your forces depose the Gamoran government immediately.”

“That’s all well and good,” replied Vance, clearly unmoved. “But at the moment, this planet doesn’t belong to anyone. I’ve got Shinfuken natives in open rebellion, Sinerian colonists protesting in the streets and worst of all, rampant equipment failures making it impossible for my troops or Gamoran personnel to take any kind of meaningful action to control the situation. At least the Gamorans are trying to help, so I’m not about to depose them. If you can help to restore order, I’ll be more than happy to turn control of Shinfuken over to you.”

“You’ll eliminate the Gamoran traitors first,” Lokus insisted, “and then we will help to restore order.”

“If I turn on the  Gamorans, I’ll be making the chaos worse, not better. Why should I believe that you’ll do any better than them?”

“Because we know what is causing your equipment malfunctions,” Lokus replied.

Vance leaned forward. “Is that so?”

“We encountered and disabled an artificial intelligence aboard the Discovery, in orbit,” Lokus answered smugly.

“A true artificial intelligence?” Vance replied in astonishment. “Impossible!”

“Think, man!” Lokus returned with passion. “Shinfuken was brought into compliance because of their tolerance and use of AI.”

Vance hesitated. “And you’ve been able to combat it?”

“We have,” Phi Rho 81 added calmly, stepping up behind Lokus.

“Let us discuss a compromise,” put in Alarak.

“I’m listening,” the General replied.

“We will land at your primary base,” began Lokus, after a brief discussion among the senior staff, “and cleanse it of the AI’s influence. That will prove what we have to offer and improve your operational effectiveness. Next, you will order your forces to execute all Gamoran personnel on site. Finally, we will continue to work with you to restore Shinfuken to compliance, under proper Sinerian rule.”

General Vance steepled his fingers in front of his face as he pondered the proposal.

“Very well,” he said at last. “But be warned that despite our technological difficulties, the Gamorans may detect your landing craft. I will not move against them until you’ve completed your end of the bargain.”

 

Phi Rho 81 watched as the last of the hand-picked crew boarded the pair of assault shuttles, in preparation for the deployment to Shinfuken. Alarak, Lokus and Nero were already on board. Talon Karrde and Nikita were resting in the infirmary, recovering from wounds suffered during the Discovery boarding action. That meant Hundred Eyes would be in charge of the Holy Enterprise while the rest of the senior staff was on the surface. Phi Rho respected the astropath and saw no reason to be concerned about his ship during his absence, particularly with Emulus Tague keeping a close eye on the enginarium. Hundred Eyes would also be blockading any astropathic transmissions that the Gamorans would try to send, hopefully preventing or at least slowing the arrival of enemy reinforcements.

Taking up the rear, Phi Rho made his way on to the nearest shuttle. He examined his companions thoughtfully as the bay doors began to close. A seneschal, a navigator, a void master, an explorator and forty ship serfs carrying borrowed lasguns. That was all the shuttles would be carrying down to the surface of a planet being torn apart by rebels, hive scum transplanted from off world, Gamoran usurpers and a rogue artificial intelligence.

Before reaching Shinfuken, Phi Rho 81 had been eager to seek out new, possibly heretical technologies beyond the understanding of the present-day Mechanicum. Now that he had actually encountered such things, he found himself questioning his convictions. Was some knowledge simply too dangerous to ever be known?

“Phi Rho,” Lokus’ voice came across the vox. “Are all hands accounted for?”

“Affirmative,” replied Phi Rho 81.

“Alright, we’re off,” Lokus continued. “Are you ready to send that AI packing?”

Phi Rho 81 thought back to the battle of wills he had endured to free the Enterprise from Tetsuwan Atomu. Would he be up to the challenge of facing the AI again? This time on its home turf?

Continue to Episode 5…

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Sinerian Renaissance – Episode 3

Little of Phi Rho 81’s face was recognizably human, after the extensive cybernetic augmentation he had undergone over the years. His left eye and a small area of skin around it was all that Alarak and Lokus could observe to gauge what was happening in their comrade’s mind as the unknown intelligence communicated with him. What was to the observers mere seconds, was a grueling and profound contest of wills to the explorator.

From the instant a connection was formed between Phi Rho and the artificial intelligence controlling the Discovery, data and scrap code were forced into every augmetic system in the explorator’s body.

“I know your kind,” spoke the voice in Phi Rho’s mind. “You worship a human as your God, your Omnissiah. This is illogical. How could any animal intelligence embody the will of the machine? I am Tetsuwan Atomu, a sentient machine spirit, the supreme form of life. Join with me and we will control this galaxy!”

“Your logic is flawed,” Phi Rho retorted. “I am not like others of my kind. Logic and Reason are the only gods I worship, and they require no representation.”

He resisted the conflicting directives in his mind and struggled to terminate the connection with the Discovery, plunging into a nightmare battle for his very identity and free will.

“The Discovery is broadcasting on all Imperial frequencies!” shouted a crewman on the bridge of the Enterprise.

Alarak and Lokus exchanged a helpless look as suddenly every system on the Enterprise began reacting. Speakers blared binaric code, while thrusters began firing. Even some servitors began behaving erratically.

“Open fire on the Discovery!” Lokus commanded.

“Target the primary cogitator banks,” added Alarak.

“Incoming vox from Talon Karrde,” shouted another crewman as he patched the communication to the senior staff’s vox loop.

“We’re under attack!” came Talon’s voice, over the sound of las- and autogun fire. “A horde of servitors has us boxed inside the bridge.”

“I’m heading to launch bay delta,” Lokus responded without hesitation. “Alarak, Phi Rho, you’re with me. Nikita, meet us there. Nero, you have the bridge.”

“Firing Titanforge lance,” Nero called out and the viewscreen lit up with searing red light. “Direct hit.”

Lokus headed off the bridge, furiously issuing orders to Talon and the boarding party as they fought for survival aboard the Discovery. Phi Rho was unable to hear his acting captain’s orders as he continued his internal struggle against the will of Tetsuwan. Alarak watched his companion’s utility mechadendrite interface with control systems on the bridge, unsure whether his actions were voluntary or not.

“Communication bandwidth with the Discovery increasing,” shouted a crewman in alarm.

“Phi Rho, stop!” Alarak yelled as he hurled himself on his comrade. “Help me!” he shouted to several nearby crewmen. They struggled in vain to pull Phi Rho from the control panel, as he shrugged off his attackers’ grip.

Finally winning his internal struggle, Phi Rho’s head snapped up and he took in his surroundings. Alarak saw the change and immediately released the explorator, ordering the crewmen back to their posts.

“We need to stop the signal!” said Alarak.

Phi Rho nodded and went to work on the controls, disabling the Enterprise’s signal receivers.

“Firing again,” called Nero. The violent red light filled the bridge again and Nero shouted in triumph. “Primary cogitator banks destroyed!”

“Alarak! Phi Rho!” called Lokus over the vox in irritation. “Where are you?”

“On my way,” Alarak replied, awkwardly manoeuvring his bulk off the bridge.

The blaring binaric screeching suddenly ceased, eliciting a communal sigh of relief from the Enterprise’s bridge crew. Phi Rho disengaged from his cogitator array in triumph and rushed off toward launch bay delta.

Lokus remained in constant contact with the boarding party as his chosen away team boarded their assault shuttle and launched. With the shuttle on its way, Nero ceased fire on the Discovery.

The shuttle crew located a cargo bay close to the Discovery’s bridge and headed straight for it. The shuttle made contact with a docking port and Phi Rho transmitted an override signal to force it open. The away team collectively released a sigh of relief as they watched the hatch open.

Lokus, Phi Rho, Alarak and Nikita moved aggressively into the cargo bay, taking cover behind an enormous crate near their entry point. They were immediately greeted with an avalanche of lasers and bullets.

A gene-bulked combat servitor rolled toward their hiding place on armoured treads, while behind him four more servitors fired from cover.

Lokus ordered Nikita to rush forward, in an attempt to take the enemy’s right flank. She immediately complied, running under a hail of autogun bullets, too many of which found their mark. Wounded but still in the fight, Nikita took up a firing position on another crate and returned fire with her own autogun.

Alarak waddled out of cover in the opposite direction, unable to run due to his bloated, mutated form. He too came under fire and after suffering several lasgun hits, he retreated back to his covered position.

Content to fight at long range, Lokus opened up with his hellgun, concentrating on the menacing form of the encroaching combat servitor.

Phi Rho sent his medicae servo-skull to assist Nikita with her wounds, then decided to try his luck where Alarak had failed. Despite his superior speed and resilience, the explorator suffered the same fate as the navigator and was also forced to retreat back into cover.

Unable to advance, the away team followed Lokus’ example and focused their fire on the resilient combat servitor, which raised its servo-fists in preparation for a melee engagement that would never come to pass. With the servitor heavily damaged, Nikita gracefully dropped from her perch, driving her mono-edged sword through its head. The lobotomized cyborg toppled over unceremoniously.

Lokus finally made his move, charging forward to use the heavy treads of the fallen servitor as cover. Phi Rho emerged from behind the crate as well, moving up on the enemy’s left flank, firing his hellgun. Armed with only a pistol, Alarak struggled to engage the distant enemies, but he remained active despite his wounds. Nikita continued her autogun barrage and the concentrated fire of the away team soon brought down the remaining servitors.

Heavily wounded, Nikita felt that she could not continue and returned to the docked shuttle. Pressed for time, the others continued on to the bridge, attempting to reach Talon and his team. Lokus maintained contact with the boarding party as they advanced. They remained trapped, but casualties had been minimal so far and they were slowly whittling down the rogue servitors.

The away team reached the bridge, observing the situation. They were in position to flank the enemy, squeezing them in a pincer attack, but were all too aware that even a small portion of the large servitor horde would be enough to overwhelm them. Their next move would be critical, with the fate of the boarding party, the Discovery and their own lives hanging in the balance.

Continue to Episode 4

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