Big Sister (40k/???)

[Simon_Jester]

[looks up] Looking at the count of nineteen, the (potentially two) progenoid glands are treated as one and the same. So, twenty.

[LadyTevar]

oh yes, that is going to really be a thorn in the Emperor's ideal for his sons.

[SAMAS]

[looks up] Looking at the count of nineteen, the (potentially two) progenoid glands are treated as one and the same. So, twenty.

Well, that depends. Remember, She has Primarch blood, not Space Marine Blood.

It may or may not have been redundant, but AFAIK there are no accounts of the Primarchs getting any surgical or genetic alterations.

Given that the Space Marines are genetically linked to their progenitor Primarch, it stands to reason that the Primarchs most likely had all the Space Marine organs naturally. So yeah, the child of a Primarch could very well basically be a natural-born Marine.

And yeah, positive or negative, when the Emperor finds out, he's gonna throw a fit. Even if he doesn't like the idea of the Primarchs reproducing, the existence of Space Marine Geneseed keyed to female genes (or just not keyed to male ones, however the biology is supposed to work) is gonna be a big deal.

But it makes me wonder, as the decades turn to centuries, if this will also have an effect on the Ash Maidens or whatever the Emperor is planning with Nanoha's DNA.

[Simon_Jester]

I would appreciate it if someone better versed in 40k lore could take some time out to hold forth on exactly what the Emperor's plans for the Space Marines and the Primarchs were, that explain why this is so much at odds with his goals.

Obviously, it was at odds with his goals, since he didn't try to do it "in real life," but I'm wondering about the details of what he had in mind according to the story. Especially since I'm almost totally unfamiliar with the pre-Heresy background.

[DeRogue]

I would appreciate it if someone better versed in 40k lore could take some time out to hold forth on exactly what the Emperor's plans for the Space Marines and the Primarchs were, that explain why this is so much at odds with his goals.

Obviously, it was at odds with his goals, since he didn't try to do it "in real life," but I'm wondering about the details of what he had in mind according to the story. Especially since I'm almost totally unfamiliar with the pre-Heresy background.

His goals were to unite the galaxy under the banner of Humanity. The best way he thought of doing this was to take Ordinary Humans and turn them up to 11, making them Space Marines. I dunno if its at odds with his goals, He is really a good geneticist, so its probably more a matter of the Hormonal and biological make up of males that caused him to make male astartes as opposed to all people astartes.

[EDIT]

Yeah, There is two progenoid glands. One in the neck, the other at the base of the spine. They are referred to as a single organ in the literature though.

[CaptainChewbacca]

The reason this is bad is because the Emperor created the primarchs to be his twenty generals and leaders. Through them he could restore the galaxy to order and human supremacy. A female primarch, however, can reproduce. She can create NEW primarchs and create a race of genetically superior men bred to rule and command billions.

And she doesn't owe the emperor anything. Instead of a God Emperor of Man, how's Mother of the Galaxy grab you?

[DeRogue]

The reason this is bad is because the Emperor created the primarchs to be his twenty generals and leaders. Through them he could restore the galaxy to order and human supremacy. A female primarch, however, can reproduce. She can create NEW primarchs and create a race of genetically superior men bred to rule and command billions.

And she doesn't owe the emperor anything. Instead of a God Emperor of Man, how's Mother of the Galaxy grab you?

Like a feminist. Roughly, and with anger in her eyes.

[Zankaru Zelladonii]

With the title and hints I was expecting for nanoha to still be alive but possessed or mentally unstable. Him having a kid came out of bloody no where! The best stories are where I can't see stuff coming in my opinion. =)

[Hawkwings]

or... Nahona possesses her brother's daughter? Now wouldn't that be interesting...

[Singular Quartet]

With the title and hints I was expecting for nanoha to still be alive but possessed or mentally unstable. Him having a kid came out of bloody no where! The best stories are where I can't see stuff coming in my opinion. =)

Hmm? That seemed fairly obvious to me.

[Zankaru Zelladonii]

With the title and hints I was expecting for nanoha to still be alive but possessed or mentally unstable. Him having a kid came out of bloody no where! The best stories are where I can't see stuff coming in my opinion. =)

Hmm? That seemed fairly obvious to me.

In my defence, I did not think primarchs could even have children.

[CaptainChewbacca]

I was surprised the writer skipped straight from a tender moment with Fara to an articulate child with no intermediate step. THAT is what got me.

[SAMAS]

Probably to A: Keep Thalia's existence a secret, and B: Let him skip to the really important part of the story: The butterfly has flapped, time for the wind to change.

[Academia Nut]

“Brother, what is best in life?”

The question was a curious one between two Primarchs, but it had evolved naturally from the conversation so far. While the arrival of Jaghatai Khan and his White Scars had been unexpected as the currents of the Warp had carried his fleet to Nocturne faster than the astropathic message that was supposed to inform of their approach, on some level Vulkan preferred the less formal, more impromptu meeting of Legions that had occurred. In particular, because both of their senior staff had been thrown into a disarray of protocol by the quirk of fate, the two of them had been able to slip away to one of the quieter rooms in the still unfinished Legion fortress.

The Khan considered the question posed by his brother for a long time, gently swirling about his drink for the night while he contemplated. Despite his brother’s normally fierce demeanour and a reputation for over-the-top brutality, in person he was actually something of a soft-spoken closet philosopher once you got him onto the right topic. Finally, Jaghatai stated, “Before I ventured out to the stars, I would have answered that quickly and without much thought. The best thing in life is victory. The greatest joy a man can have is to drive his enemies before him, to ride his horses, and to hear the weeping of their wives and daughters as you clutch them close. It was the philosophy of my father – that is to say the man who raised me, not the Emperor – and it served me well for many years. Now…”

“Have a daughter of your own and not find the last bit so funny anymore?” Vulkan asked jovially over his own drink, a mocking grin covering his face.

“I don’t think the woman exists who could survive us brother,” Jaghatai replied with equal mirth. His smile was transitory however when he said, “No, by change in mind has come with the experience of other worlds and peoples. While I have not been able to mount a living steed into battle for many years, I cherish the memories of my youth when I was still small enough to ride. I remember the incredible thrill of riding out across the wind swept steppes on a starry spring night, my breath frosting in the chill night air while thunderclouds rolled in off the mountains in the distance, their great rumblings a counterpoint to the impact of my horse’s hooves upon the hard packed sod. I keep those memories with me when I see great cities teeming with misery and squalor, and I cannot help but feel that humanity took a wrong turn somewhere.”

The Khan paused for a moment to sip at his wine before he continued, “However, I have also seen other places, places that challenge my notions of what is the correct course. Your world is an interesting example brother. Where I come from, there is little wood for fires and the soil will turn a blade, so our dead were buried in the sky, left out for the eagles and vultures so that their souls might be carried into the heavens. Here, where the very land burns and trembles and letting anything get a taste for human flesh only encourages trouble, you burn those who have passed on. A part of me should feel that you are desecrating their bodies, yet I see why you do it, and you are not diminished in my eyes. Upon the steppes of Chogoris rain is a sacred gift from our ancestors – although of course only when father is not around,” Vulkan smiled and nodded at that, glad his brother was that trusting and open with him, “but here when water comes from the sky you hide from it, for it is burning poison that falls, not cool refreshment. When riding like the winds across Chogoris grasslands with bow in one hand, arrow in another, and a spear ready in the saddle, victory is the best thing a man could have. Here on Nocturne, where winds sear flesh to the bone, the grass slashes skin to ribbons, and you cannot even trust the ground beneath your feet, how can any of my terms possibly apply? Yet you are good people.”

“I am intrigued brother. If not victory, then what is best in life?” Vulkan asked.

“Brotherhood! A man can have all the victories in the galaxy and it will mean nothing if he has no one to share them with and if the beat of hooves against the earth is enough to make the blood sing then the thunder of ten thousand all at once lights a man’s soul ablaze. Brotherhood is that which binds the Imperium together, and it is that which elevates us from animals to civilized beings,” Jaghatai exclaimed triumphantly.

Raising his own wine in the air, Vulkan said, “I can drink to that, but let us change that from brotherhood to family, lest fathers and sons, and even mothers and sisters, be forgotten. To family, be they born in blood or bound in blood!”

“Here, here!” Jaghatai cheered, clanking his massive drinking cup against Vulkan’s, their wine sloshing together and mingling before they both drank them empty.

Settling back, the Khan looked over Vulkan and at the scars that lined his brother’s face, and let out a melancholy sigh before he said, “Family may be what makes us great, what elevates us above all the scum of the cosmos, but it is also the great tragedy of humanity. How bitter and petty we can be over it. My adoptive father was killed by a neighbouring tribe because… oh probably because his grandfather killed someone else’s grandfather because his father was killed in turn, and on and on. I put the whole tribe to the sword in vengeance, but… but even then I felt a twinge of disgust at the waste of it all. We had bigger enemies, and we were wasting time and blood squabbling with each other. I vowed that day to unite all the tribes… but I have since let them fragment again. I cannot make them stop hating each other, and I would rather have them kill each other than place barriers upon the steppes. My people shall be free as the wind, and if in their travels they meet another it will be their own hearts that decide if they ride together or ride against.”

Vulkan nodded and said, “And here I thought you were following the model of our brothers and letting the best killers rise to the top.”

Jaghatai considered the statement for a second and said, “If for the sake of brotherhood and family we are compelled to kill, then those with the greatest hearts will naturally rise to the top. Those who fight solely for their own greed, lust, and pride will soon find they are alone and overwhelmed by those they have wronged. So yes, I suppose the Legion benefits from the competition, but not because that is my intent.”

Vulkan nodded and said, “I suppose that mirrors my own decisions about Nocturne. Any who wish to leave this world to seek a life elsewhere are free to do so, aided even as honestly this planet is a nightmare to live on, but I cannot force my people to give up their homes and ways of life to go live in a hive somewhere. Those who stay will produce sons that will make fine recruits, and in someway they will be stronger for it. It is one thing to stand your ground when you know you have nowhere to go, it is quite another to square off against death when there is an escape route at your back.”

“Wise words brother, wise words. You are… not what I had heard from rumour, father, or our other brothers. When I first heard of you, you sounded so young and sentimental, but now I see you. You have been tested in the most brutal ways possible by the trials of war and emerged strong and wise for it, with decades of growth yet to go,” the Khan stated.

“Well you brother are not quite what I imagined either, especially from our brother Magnus. I half expected some barbarian draped in furs to come barging in demanding booze and women, not an intellectual of your standing,” Vulkan replied.

Jaghatai rolled his eyes and said, “I love my brothers, but Magnus can be a self-centred, arrogant ass at times. Also, it is the Sixth Legion I’m worried about. Even the Legions still missing their Primarchs have a bit of the temperament that tends to shine through whatever upbringing we receive, and the Sixth… the Sixth seem to go out of their way to be uncivilized.”

“Hopefully their Primarch landed on a civilized world and was raised by an order of cultured artists then,” Vulkan stated.

Jaghatai managed a good five seconds before he burst out laughing and said, “Good one brother, I almost managed to keep a straight face.”

Pulling out the Primarch sized bottle of wine once more and topping up their cups, Vulkan smiled and said, “Humanity has been thrown into a wild, barbarous state, hasn’t it?”

“It is what we are all striving to fix,” Jaghatai replied. He then considered, “Although for arts and culture I suppose the two leading the charge there would be Magnus and Sanguinius.”

Vulkan nodded and then after a second’s consideration said, “Actually, now that I think about it, those are the other two who are petitioning father to allow for the use of psykers in the Legions themselves rather than attached as auxilia from the Adeptus Telepathica.”

Nodding, Jaghatai said, “Ah yes, Magnus’ pet project. I think father will actually allow the trials to begin within the next year, so you will probably be able to incorporate your Librarians directly into your order of battle from the get-go rather than trying to integrate them in later.”

“I have heard of what Magnus plans, but what about you?” Vulkan asked.

“When you sit out on the open plains, the wind rolling over your face, you cannot help but feel a connection with the diamond studded heavens overhead, or when the storm clouds roll in you cannot help but feel powers greater than yourself acting. We keep it quiet for there is a difference between belief and fact, but we all have faith in things we cannot see. My White Scars all learn to taste the wind, to feel things without substance, and some of them are better than others. From our father’s blood all the Primarchs have inherited sparks of prescience, our brother Sanguinius having the strongest thus known, and it has been passed down to our sons in turn. I will have them learn to use their gifts, not let them sit and ferment like a curse,” Jaghatai explained.

Vulkan held his breathe for a long time and then asked, “And if at the end of the experimental period, if father deems the Librarian project a failure and a threat, and orders the men you have trained and fought with, the men of your own blood, to be put down like animals, what then?”

Jaghatai looked upset and offended and barked, “The Emperor would never do that!”

“Yes, but if?” Vulkan pressed. “If so ordered, could you kill your brothers, kill your sons?”

The Khan had a sour look over his face and he said, “Your words come dangerously close to treason.”

“Your refusal to answer says more about treasonous doubts in your own heart, brother,” Vulkan pointed out.

Jaghatai crushed the drinking cup in his hands, letting the dark wine spill out between his fingers, the fluid looking like blood in the low lighting, and then he looked away to ask, “Why do you test me like this younger brother?”

“Because I am worried about our family, brother. The weakest bonds are the ones that are never tested, and when there are conflicting ties of family, which one is stronger?” Vulkan answered.

The Khan looked back at Vulkan and then sighed, releasing the fragments still in his hand to clatter to the floor. He said, “Brother… I don’t know what I would do were that situation to arise. I would probably fight tooth and nail for another option, but if reduced to the choice of killing my men or obedience… I am not sure I could obey.”

Vulkan let out a breath he was not aware he was holding and said, “I thank you brother for your honesty. This was no trap, but I sought to soothe my own mind that the guilty thoughts I was harbouring were not unique. I… I am worried about the Librarian program. Magnus is… well, you said it best, he is arrogant about his own abilities. I fear his hubris with regard to the Warp could poison things for the rest of us.”

“Ah! I see your concern now brother. Ah yes, yes, his activities could become problematic, but not even father has been able to properly talk him out of exploring his own powers to their limit. I don’t think he will bring damnation to us all, but yes, I suppose keeping an eye on him and his activities will be a good way to keep our own men safe,” Jaghatai mused.

“Thank you brother… you have taken a great weight off my mind. Actually… could you possibly do me a favour?” Vulkan asked.

“What is it brother?” Jaghatai inquired.

“Well, with my Legion beginning its recruitment we have been getting back some interesting data, and I was wondering if you could have a few of your Apothecaries look over what we have, see where we can learn more,” Vulkan explained.

“Of course, although I do note that your gene-seed and the conditions of this world seem to have a rather peculiar effect on your physiology,” Jaghatai stated, waving his hand in the general direction of his brother to indicate his unique pigmentation.

“Of course. The Marines from Terra have all had a general darkening of their skin in response to the conditions on Nocturne, apparently the amount of radioactive gas in the atmosphere is high enough that the Mechanicum is actually interested in doing a genomic study of the population to look for the cancer resistance factors,” Vulkan noted.

“The resilience of humans amazes even me sometimes,” Jaghatai stated with an amused shake of his head.

“I will have my Master Apothecary, Teruel, send over the relevant data,” Vulkan stated.

[CaptainChewbacca]

Sixth Legion is... Leman Russ? Oh yeah, totally cultured.

[SAMAS]

Yep, it's the Wolves.

I didn't even know about that fact, and was able to guess it just from them making that vain, vain hope.

[LadyTevar]

Yeah, I was trying to recall if the Sixth was the Wolves myself. My knowledge of The Twenty is not as good as it could be, as I didn't recognize the White Scars. Who did they morph into?

[Academia Nut]

Yeah, I was trying to recall if the Sixth was the Wolves myself. My knowledge of The Twenty is not as good as it could be, as I didn't recognize the White Scars. Who did they morph into?

The White Scars.

All of the Loyalist Legions kept their original names. In fact, the only guys who changed their names were the Sons of Horus/Luna Wolves, everyone else kept their names. The White Scars successor Chapters are the Marauders, Rampagers, Destroyers, and Storm Lords, thus keeping in the theme of the Loyalists having more evil sounding names than most of the Chaos forces.

[CaptainChewbacca]

The White Scars.

All of the Loyalist Legions kept their original names. In fact, the only guys who changed their names were the Sons of Horus/Luna Wolves, everyone else kept their names. The White Scars successor Chapters are the Marauders, Rampagers, Destroyers, and Storm Lords, thus keeping in the theme of the Loyalists having more evil sounding names than most of the Chaos forces.

Kinda the opposite of how Japanese naval ships have names like 'Breeze' and 'Rainbowfish'

[SAMAS]

Yeah, I was trying to recall if the Sixth was the Wolves myself. My knowledge of The Twenty is not as good as it could be, as I didn't recognize the White Scars. Who did they morph into?

Like AN said.

On a more general note, as Khan's (KHAAAAAAAAAN- um, sorry...) dialogue hints, they're the Mongol/Biker Chapter. If Nanoha comes back with the StrikerS cast in tow, they'd probably get a kick out of Subaru/Ginga's Wing Road spell.

[Black Admiral]

Yeah, I was trying to recall if the Sixth was the Wolves myself. My knowledge of The Twenty is not as good as it could be, as I didn't recognize the White Scars.

The full list of Legions & Primarchs, from Visions of War;
I - Dark Angels, Lion El'Jonson
II - (expunged), unknown
III - Emperor's Children, Fulgrim
IV - Iron Warriors, Perturabo
V - White Scars, Jaghatai Khan
VI - Space Wolves, Leman Russ
VII - Imperial Fists, Rogal Dorn
VIII - Night Lords, Konrad Curze/Night Haunter
IX - Blood Angels, The Angel Sanguinius
X - Iron Hands, Ferrus Manus
XI - (expunged), unknown
XII - World Eaters (War Hounds), Angron
XIII - Ultramarines, Roboute Guilliman
XIV - Death Guard (Dusk Raiders), Mortarion
XV - Thousand Sons, Magnus the Red
XVI - Sons of Horus (Luna Wolves), Horus the Warmaster
XVII - Word Bearers, Lorgar
XVIII - Salamanders, Vulkan
XIX - Raven Guard, Corax
XX - Alpha Legion, Alpharius/Omegon

[EarthScorpion]

On a more general note, as Khan's (KHAAAAAAAAAN- um, sorry...) dialogue hints, they're the Mongol/Biker Chapter. If Nanoha comes back with the StrikerS cast in tow, they'd probably get a kick out of Subaru/Ginga's Wing Road spell.

I have seen the concept of a Device Bike. And Space Marines on giant, bladed, skull-encrusted rollerblades.

It is a good pain.

[Shinjai]

Hmm. After rereading the story so far from the start to now, I can't help but think that the Big Sister from the title may have started out as Nanoha.... but will end with Thalia taking on the role to the Salamanders, after hearing Teruel's reaction upon realising the relationship. Perhaps if Vulcan is out of action at some point? Or perhaps she will serve the role at the head of the Ash Maidens? Or maybe I'm over analysing a coincidence...

At any rate I'm looking forward to further primarch relations being shown, particularly any of the primarchs that are going to butt heads as it were with Vulcan due to their philosophies.

[Academia Nut]

The world of Telleros was an old one, life on the surface having come to a halt millions of years ago as its oceans sank beneath growing pans of hard rock. When humanity first landed, it found a planet of dry deserts, and gigantic plains of cold, dead basalt. Down below the surface though they discovered continent sized seas of petrochemicals mixed with the dead oceans. Hundreds of thousands of drilling rigs were set up to chew through the thick, hard rock and hive cities expanded around the wells to house the workers on the rigs, in the refineries, and for the ports, and then all the people who ran the industries that supported the workers, and all the people who supported them until the hives of metal rose up like great mountains surrounded by steel forests, all shrouded in a low lying fog of dirty water vapour brought up with the valuable chems.

When the fleets of the Emperor had first shown up, the people of Telleros had welcome a chance to begin exporting their goods again, with massive stockpiles of refined petrochems having built up over the thousand years since they had last seen a ship, the ruling council having kept the refineries running just to keep the populace from panicking or growing bored and disillusioned. For ten years they had dutifully shipped out their tithe, but then something inexplicably changed and now the world was in open rebellion, its rich stream of resources cut off and diverted toward massive armies of tanks.

For Iako, one of hundreds of thousands of workers in the Khreht-4 sub-hab, the fact that his planet was at war only reached him when he was woken up in the middle of the night by a hand over his mouth, a blade pressed to his throat, and a strangely accented voice hissing in his ear, “Make a sound and it will be the last thing you ever do.”

So rudely and suddenly roused to wakefulness, Iako had little he could say in response to that. In the darkness of the cramped hab unit, he could see little but the glow of his chron and the flickering light coming through his window of the distant flare stacks. The shadow looming over him seemed to take up his whole world, but his eyes managed to flick far enough to the side to see that Raedra also had a shadow covering her.

His assailant seemed to pick up on his eye movement and whispered, “Lovely wife you got there. You love her, right? Well, in case you feel like being a hero, we’ll slit her throat too. Remember that.”

The blade retracted for an instant before Iako found himself hauled out of his bed, the knife back to his throat once he was upon his feet once more, the presence slipping around behind him. With his eyes growing more used to the darkness, he could see a third presence at his window, which had somehow opened to the cold night air outside, the draft extremely noticeable when out from under the covers and in his boxers. A fourth form seemed to ooze into the bedroom through the window, followed by a fifth that closed the pane as it entered.

Iako found Raedra and he moved roughly into the small living area and kitchen that along with the bedroom and their small water closet was the extent of their apartment. The three shadows not busy securing them quickly and quietly searched the room before pausing by the intercom system. Gesturing, the thing summoned the one holding Iako and thus Iako over to the unit and whispered, “Call for a custodian.”

“What?” Iako asked in confusion.

A shadow over by the sink did something and with a metal snap something broke and a high pressure spray of water began gushing out everywhere. The shadow at the intercom told him, “Your faucet is broken. Get someone to come fix it.”

“Remember, both you and your wife die if you do something stupid,” the one at Iako’s neck hissed.

Pressing him forward, the other shadow pressed the button for the maintenance people, and Iako stuttered out, “Uh… maintenance? This is Iako Ioryyan in 34-25C, and my… ah… my sink seems to have exploded.”

There was a pause before the ancient intercom crackled and an annoyed voice asked, “What do you mean, exploded?”

“I mean it… ah… it just suddenly started spraying water everywhere,” Iako answered, licking his desert dry lips with a bone dry tongue. “It woke my wife and me up.”

“Oh for Eksol’s Sake… I’ll send someone up,” the voice on the other side stated with much grumbling. “They’ll be a few minutes.”

The voice next to his ear told him, “Get the man they send inside your apartment and you and your wife get to live, otherwise…”

The threat was left hanging as the pressure disappeared, something hitting the lights and inexplicably banishing the shadows like they had never been, yet Iako could still feel their presence all around, like condensed oil forming a slick on his skin. He shuddered as he ran to Raedra and held her tight in his arms while they waited, the moments seeming to pass by with all terrible slowness of the doom hanging over their heads, yet also with the swiftness of what could be their last moment together.

Somewhere between an instant and an eternity after they made contact the door opened to reveal one of the custodial staff carrying a large metal toolkit. He looked bleary-eyed and cranky at being roused at such an hour, but one look at the situation had him crying out, “What in the Three Hells happened here?”

“I… we don’t know, it just… just… just…” Iako gestured helplessly at the sink that was erupting like an oil gusher.

“Damn it…” the man muttered as he moved into the apartment, muttering about the incompetence of everyone else around him. Behind him the door slowly swung closed with an unseen force, stopping just before it latched. When the man reached the sink, he had just enough time to look it over and ask, “In Eksol’s Name, you broke-”

His accusation was cut off by one of the shadows practically materializing behind him, a ligature in its hands as it choked the life out of him. Iako pulled Raedra in close, shielding her from the awful sight, but he found that he could not look away from the monster that had invaded his home now that it was revealed in the full light. The beast was like something spawned by the underworld itself, a conglomeration of loose squares of fabric in a variety of unappealing ashen shades of grey, black, and green. Even in full light the thing seemed to want to disappear into the nearest patch of shadow, and it terrified him to know how well the thing could hide.

Even before the custodian’s body silently hit the floor, the other shadows reappeared, one closing the door and another other grabbing the man’s toolkit before going to the sink. The remaining two grabbed Iako and Raedra and forcibly separated them, sitting them down at the nearby kitchen table, the knives back at their throats. After a few seconds the water stopped spraying from the sink as the thing that went to it shut off the valve.

With eerie, wordless coordination the shadows seemed to select one of their own for the next task, the one that got wet dealing with the sink stripping off its outer layer to reveal something Iako never could have expected to have seen. Beneath the form concealing strips of cloth was a person, or something like it, which Iako supposed he should have expected, but more importantly the person within was female and younger than Raedra, who was no old maid.

The girl was not like anyone Iako had ever seen before, her features subtly different from what he was used to. She was taller than most women he knew, but not gigantically so, and her frame was in fact rather lithe, but the muscles that ran over her bones looked like they were cast from iron. Despite her otherwise youthful appearance and healthy tone, her skin looked almost like it was quarter a size too large, giving just a bit of looseness to the flesh above the iron muscles like she was waiting to put on an extra five or ten kilos of fat. Perhaps most striking of all were her eyes, which were much rounder and wider than typical and had a totally unknown amber tint to the irises. Of course, if her eyes were striking, then the deathly grey ash that coated her skin except for around her eyes and the deep red dye in her hair were even more alien.

For a time, Iako had hoped that this was some sort of bizarre robbery, but now he knew that his home had been invaded by people from beyond the stars. In his youth he had heard the tales and seen some of the wealth that had flooded into Telleros, but he had not thought of such things for a long time as he focused on the twin goals of wooing Raedra and learning his trade in the drilling fields. Now it seemed that his ignorance of such things had been no shield against their violent intrusion into his life.

While the alien girl stripped down, her fellow shadows removed the clothing from the custodian they had slain, and in a few short minutes she was dressed as one of the hab’s building staff, her hair tucked into a cap and the ash of her face smeared away into a general blur of muck like what might be expected of maintenance staff. Unlike most custodial staff, the electric drill at her waist had been replaced by a long barrelled pistol and a wicked knife was hidden amongst the other tools on her stolen belt.

In a lightning quick motion, the strange woman drew her pistol and pointed it at Iako, letting him stare down the dark maw of the barrel for just a second before she returned it as quickly as she had drawn it. She said, just loud enough for Iako to hear without straining, “I need a guide. Show me where I want to go.”

Iako wanted to protest, but he found himself hauled to his feet by unyielding strength and shoved forward. Trying to get saliva to wet a parched tongue, Iako gulped and then just nodded in terror of the deadly barbarian. Tucking her head down to conceal her face, she said, “Do not think I am not aware of what you are doing with my face turned down. Now show me where the custodial closet on this floor is.”

Exiting out into the hallway, Iako led the strange woman to the nearest custodial down the hall, his head scanning back and forth in terror that someone would walking in on what was going on and get everyone killed, and faint hope that someone capable of dealing with the situation would show up and save him and Raedra until the woman stated, “Stop that, you’re going to draw attention.”

After an interminable time of the woman trying out the various keys on the loop she had taken, one fit and turned, opening up the closet to reveal a dingy space full of spare chemicals, mops, and a cart loaded with half used cleaning supplies. Shoving Iako inside, the woman examined everything carefully before she grabbed several spare uniforms off a rack and stuffed them into the trash bin on the cart. Pausing a moment, she wrapped her hands around Iako’s mouth to keep him silent and then leaned in close to the door, listening for something Iako could not hear over the pounding of his heart. Maybe half a minute later she released him and then shoved him back out into the hallway, the cart brought along with her.

Dropping it off back at the apartment, she then said, “You will take me to the hab security room.”

Iako was about to protest that he did not know where that was when he noticed that the woman had taken a hab map off the cart and flipped it to a diagram of the second floor at some point. She already knew where it was, she just wanted someone used to the building to help her get there faster. Looking down at the map, Iako nodded and headed for the elevator.

The trip down was miserable, Iako trying not to jump at every little sound that might herald his doom. Finally when the elevator chimed that it was at the right floor, Iako peered out, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible while leading the woman in the direction she wanted to go. He sort of already knew where it was she wanted to go, the main security office was behind a large, imposing steel door that he rarely ever saw but knew where it was.

Just as they reached the hallway where security door was located, the woman grabbed one of Iako’s arms and turned it painfully behind his back, shoving him forward as he spluttered and protested in pain and fear. Reaching the steel door, the woman kicked it repeatedly with the heavy boots she had been wearing when she invaded Iako’s life.

A hatch slid open on the door and blue eyes flecked with gold peered out and demanded, “What in Eksol’s Name are you doing?”

The woman grunted out in as deep a voice as she could muster, “I found him screwing around with a junction box, thought I should bring him here.”

Iako tried to jerk around in fear and panic to protest the accusation but he just got shoved forward, his head slamming painfully into the metal door with a loud bang. Moaning in pain, his head was ringing too much to hear what was said next, but the unmistakable sound of a large bolt being drawn back was heard, and then the security door started to swing inward.

Eyes still refusing to properly focus Iako only vaguely felt what happened next, but one moment he was on his feet, stooped over by the hand holding his arm behind his back, and then next he was in a tangle of limbs on the floor, people shouting all around him and then there was a trio of noises like a pressure gasket on one of the rigs blowing out. A hand roughly hauled him to his feet again, and when Iako managed to get his eyes to clear he found he was in a room filled with security monitors, three dead bodies corresponding to the three shots fired from the still smoking gun in the woman’s hand.

Iako felt something wet dripping down from his hairline, and when he went to touch it, his fingers came back sticky. He did not want to look at it, but something compelled him to do so. His whole body trembling, he brought his fingers into view and found them wet with blood. Looking down, he found himself staring into the lifeless eyes that had been staring out from the slot in the door. The woman must have shoved him into the man and then shot everyone in the confusion.

Shoving one of the corpses out of its seat before the flickering display monitors, the woman sat down, the gun still in her hand, and said, “You might want to take a seat or this is night is going to be even longer than it needs to be.”

Iako looked at the other chair with the dead body still slumped in it and sort of flapped his mouth wordlessly for a few moments before the woman said, “The floor is fine too.”

Iako dropped to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut before he realized he was still next to the man he had been shoved into and shuffled in panic back until he ran into the nearest wall, breathing heavily through his mouth and nose until the gun casually pointed in his direction and the woman requested, “Could you calm down?”

Iako held his breath until his body forced him to inhale again a good two minutes later, but by then the woman was more interested in what was going on with the monitors. The maintenance level a few floors down had become a storm of flashes as the other four invaders stormed in, shooting everything in their path, their stolen uniforms giving them cover right up until the last moment when the killing started.

Turning away from the screens, the woman looked down at Iako and said, “Guess what, your initial use has just expired. What happens next is up to you.”

Iako just stared at the gun held casually in her hands, pointed away from him and with her finger off the trigger but he knew that could change faster than he could blink so he just stayed still, paralyzed with fear. The woman took his silence as tacit approval to keep going and said, “Now, up until now, everything that has happened could be construed as you just aiding a criminal at gunpoint… but in oh… five minutes you will go from victim to traitor in the eyes of your government. Now, you can die a hero and be forgotten when my people flatten this world, or you can save a whole lot of lives and get to back to your pretty wife, who is currently down in maintenance.”

“What do you want?” Iako croaked out.

“Information for these fine gentlemen,” the woman replied, gesturing to an external camera, which showed a group of massive, shadowy shapes moving into the building via a loading dock, which was opening up at the command of one of the invaders who had already taken the maintenance area.

Iako’s throat seemed like it was made of broken glass as he tried to get out the words that refused to come. Finally he stuttered out, “Yes.”

[Simon_Jester]

Hmm. Squad of Salamander infiltrators accompanied by one of the Ash Maidens. Their training does seem to be taking them in the same general direction as some of the more... subtle, psywar-oriented legions, like the Alpha Legion and the Night Lords. Which are not promising precedents, come to think of it.