@Flamelord
Grinning, Dromari stepped forward, seeming unfazed. It appeared the Xenos had sent their leader. How pleasant. He'd been stuck on the back lines long enough, forced to suffer the arrogant attitudes of these filthy creatures in silence. But despite his personal grudges, he did recognise that this was a diplomatically charged situation, and rash action could have unfortunate and long-lasting consequences. Warfare with the Goa'Uld would form a rather troublesome distraction from the Tyranid threat. Besides, there was no doubt the commander had his own little reinforcements in wait. There was no way in shit he'd simply placed himself out here for all to see, trusting in the 'good intentions' of the Imperium to save his sorry little ass. "Excellently worded, xeno. Excuse me if I'm not as fancy a speaker. I'm a simple man, you see, and I see things in a simple matters. So if, say, a stealth craft moves out of Imperial Space " he didn't even hesitate as he blatantly claimed Arcadia to already belong to the Imperium "carrying all the necessities to build em a little colony, then it seems to me like something's amiss. See, honest folk don't carry some of the fanciest stealth gear in the universe. That's the kind of stuff you find on someone who knows they're breaking the rules, no?"

For a moment, Dromari waited, deciding how to proceed. Obviously, he'd be able to rip through whatever forces Baal had assembled here, although their commander might simply port away. There was tech to block Warp-based travel, but nothing had as of yet been designed to counter the Goa'Uld technology. Damn slow-ass techpriests. But sparking a war was perhaps not the best course of action, and he had not received orders to initiate such a conflict. "So, you've set up your little camp here, but we both know that there are more pressing matters at hand. Looks to me you wanna run off Arcadia now the ground's got warm beneath your feet. So let's make a deal here, and avoid any unnecessary hassle, yeah? You leave your ground on Arcadia behind for folks who can get some use out of it, and wait over here while we fight off the scary aliens." If there was one thing that was well known about the Goa'Uld, it was their sense of pride. It was one of the reasons Dromari loved em. All of the sense of self-importance of the Eldar, none of the cunning to back it up. "Course, alternatively, we could send you back to Arcadia, deal with the Tyranid, and then discuss this shit later like civilized folks. Or we could fight it out here, start a little war, and get eaten together. But I'd hope that even a parasite like you would see the pointlessness in getting killed for no reason." If necessary, Company Master Dromari would gladly begin a war here. But such things were better avoided, at least until the greater threat was dealt with.

@thewizardguy @Tyki

"....You really don't give a fuck, do you?" Martin asks Xel-rath, turning to him. "He just said......Ya know what? Never mind. Sure. I'm in, under one condition. You get me a power core able to allow my station to enter orbit. I'm not wanting to be on the ground if you have a large scale threat like that on planet." Martin says, turning back towards his new space marine boss. He hated the idea for working for them, but a threat like the nids sounded awfully like a blob, which deep down, terrified Martin.

"As for you, my..glowy friend, try to keep that sorta shit to yourself when it comes to saying I can't help but do the thing you'd shoot me for. That's..really...fucking...dumb." Martin points out to Xel-rath. He felt like this energy being was simply either very confident, or very, very, powerful for it to not have died yet with how it was acting. Both were worrying, one would make it a lot easier to deal with, upon further study. "As for you wanting all their Data, isn't gonna happen. If you try to fight them, it'll end badly...my advice...go hit their enemies for information that they, and you, would want to have....Savy?" MArtin asks Xel-rath, introducing a counter offer. He was hoping to avoid a direct conflict, with maybe a sweeter offer. He didn't want to get blown ze fuck up. He also wanted to quickly get some brownie points with his new boss, Remuss.

@supertinyking@Tyki


A solid second was spent staring at the odd creature as it made it's ridiculous demand. Every piece of information in the Imperium? For a moment Rhemus thought he was being had, that this was some strange expression of extraterrestrial humour, of the sadistic and nonsensical kind occasionally displayed by the Eldar. A comparison which had up until this point seemed quite apt. But even the Eldar knew when to make sense, and this entity, for all of it's powers, seemed to lack any basic logical understanding of scale. Or perhaps it had merely mistook the Imperium for some wayward village, with a handful of juicy gossipy secrets to hide. Rhemus alone knew several secrets that would get the entire planet nuked from space if they were to get out, or at least would have had the planet been anything less than the new home of the Golden Throne, and the God Emperor himself. No less ridiculous was it's demand for a demonstration, as if Rhemus was supposed to pull an Imperator Titan out of his back pocket so it could show off. This was a level of both arrogance and sheer ignorance that baffled the Librarian, and there was an awkward pause as he struggled to regain his composure.

Of course, even with these ridiculous claims, it's casual admittance to blatantly ignoring Rhemus' warnings were far more worrying than it's apparent naivete. The moment he parsed the creature's words, he fired a single bolt shell into the ground at the creature's feet, internally groaning at the amount of lenience he was forced to show. "Then turn it off. If you are so incompetent to be unable to even control your own sensory capabilities, then I doubt any military operation would benefit from your intervention. As for your apparent desire for our information, your very knowledge of my name is a secret that most would die for, unwillingly. If you so much as touch another thought, whether through physical or telepathic means, I will be forced to retract the remarkably amiable treatment I have been granting you up until now, and act out on the logical course of action. This would be to eliminate you, and be done with it." He sighed, sizing up the creature, wondering how to word his threats in a way that would pierce the ever-present shell of inhuman arrogance that seemed to surround the creature like an emotional forcefield. But there was no way to make apparent to this creature the threat it was under without, in fact, shooting it, which was the very conflict he had been working so hard to avoid. Effort which no doubt had gone completely unnoticed by this creature, remarkably.

Interestingly, the mutant named Martin interjected in a surprisingly bold, if blunt, fashion, appearing to share this alien creature's sense of invincibility. As a Space Marine, Rhemus was used to civilians, even mutant civilians with weapons, cowering in fear at the mere sight of an Angel of Death, and yet this strange creature appeared happy to chastise this powerful energy being, even as he spoke massively out of turn. It was a level of fearlessness born from either a jaded acceptance of death, or the will of a person who was unwilling to compromise their opinion for any threats of physical harm. A mentality little valued in a citizen of the Empire, but encouraged in it's warriors, a position which seemed oddly fitting considering the creature's unimpressive stature. Further adding to the positive impression was the fact that the ideas it proposed were sound, and it's demands reasonable. Rhemus made a mental note to personally keep track of this particular individual as he was absorbed into the administrative machine of the AdMech.

"As... Martin... suggests, I believe a more profitable agreement could be reached. It would be preferred if you demonstrated your abilities on our common enemy, as opposed to one of our very own engines of war. Such things are rather hard to replace, and I believe a field demonstration would more accurately depict your use to us, would you not agree? Meanwhile, I am certain that an exchange rate could be established for Imperial information of a variety of kinds, in exchange for your services. In addition, of course, to any information that could be garnered from the Tyranid themselves, which would be shared among us." This creature was rather troublesome, but if it turned out to be more trouble than it was worth it could be cut loose after demonstrating it's combat capabilities. At worst it was a bit of snack food thrown at the Tyranid, at best it was a useful engine of destruction that could be paid off with generally useless information. Either way, there was little to no loss for the Empire.

"In regards to the Space Station, I believe you mentioned the destruction of the location that would usually hold the power core, which would most likely have inflicted severe damage to the surrounding areas. Several techpriests will be dispatched to investigate the station and repair it, if we can. If we are able to provide and install a power core it will certainly be attempted, although if not you can also be placed in one of the labs aboard our own space station." Rhemus doubted that Martin would actually get to work on the station itself for quite some time, as the Mechanicum would obsess over it for at least a week before allowing the rest of the Imperium to even look at it, and even then it would be deployed or dismantled as was considered most useful. But his safety would be ensured. "Do not worry. I have no doubt that you will find the Imperium more pleasant than your previous home. Take into account, by the way, that artificial intelligence is forbidden within the Imperium, or at the very least may not be connected to any major systems." Aliens mind reading loyal marines was of course an atrocity, but there was nothing wrong with some precautionary surface scanning performed by a Librarian. Especially one whom's task was to discover all he could about his allies. Although he had no intention at this point of reading anything but the bare surface thoughts which this fellow practically radiated into the warp.

@thewizardguy@supertinyking

"public information doesn't interest me, marine...? should i call you marine? i don't really care. private knowledge is the most difficult to obtain and you're asking me to completely obliterate a species under your payroll and while one i'd do for free if i found them interesting, the other half of that statement sits about as well with me as adding all your secrets to that pool of public knowledge you're trying to hand off to me, so you can understand why my asking price is so high. On the other hand, a power core is an easy replacement and judging from the scans i took of the space craft in question I could easily replace it for very little... I am... unused to this... trading" Xel'rath states emotinlessly, and while he could practically feel the displeasure rolling off the space marine as well as the discomfort without needing to continue to scan him, it was like being asked to blind himself to his surroundings and it didn't sit well with him either. "I'm sure your scientific teams aren't needed or wanted with that knowledge within the public pool" xel'rath states evenly more for the sheeple's benefit than his own since he'd been nice enough to help him as well. While he could see the space marine's position, he also couldn't help but notice how little everyone else's position was being taken into consideration, and while he was unskilled with diplomacy, he could spot the issues with everyone around him just as easilly as hindsight was letting him see his own.

@thewizardguy @Tyki

"....." Martin put his hands together, forming the shape of a gun with his pointer fingers, and his chin resting on his thumbs. He thinks for a bit, before he looks at Remuss. "As for the station's repair, I can get that done rather easily. The station is made so even morons can fix it. Which is good, as my former co-workers had the IQ of the average corgi. Actually, I take that back, Ian was far smarter than most of the crew." Martin says, remembering Ian, the station's Corgi. He wondered if the poof thing was still on the station, or if it got left out in space. He hoped Ian was still on the station. He liked Ian, fluffy little stinker.

"As for you, my energy inclined friend...what do you mean by...trade?" Martin asks. "If you want, I can share some interesting data with you. On several topics, ranging from medical technology, to blue space research, to xeno-biology. Or I can tell you some very funny stories about the station. Including the time I accidentally turned the station's clown into a monkey, and then into a alien. By alien, I mean a large black insect like monster with a tough exoskeleton, acidic blood, and spit, and who would reproduce by making these nasty things called face huggers that would jump on you, put an eymbro down your throat, and it would hatch and eat its way out of you...we needed a new clown after that day." Martin says, going down memory lane, before wincing at the last bit. "..Annnndd death squad had to be called in to purge the station....after I got back to central station...via space bike....don't ask." Martin adds. He then tenses up, and looks back at Remuss

"If..me..sharing such things...would be ok with you? I don't want to accidentally burn any bridges now. That, and you've a lot of guns. Not saying I'm scared of you. I'm saying I dislike the prospect of getting shot....." MArtin adds. Indeed, he didn't show fear, simply caution.

"Note, shooting me would be very bad. I've a sort of plan in case I die to make sure whatever kills me, also dies....I might of wanted to mention this..before..." Martin mutters. "...I have a nuke...on board my station..." He says, sheepishly, clutching one of the blue crystals, as if he was going to use it for something, should this news spark some...bad, results.

Ba'al held back a sigh, showing his lack of caring towards the situation at hand as he let his gaze wander, even as Dromari made some sort of attempt at an excuse for why he was here. He wasn't going to roll over so easily, not even to a foe such as the Imperium. His infantry might not be able to match the forces gathered here, but he had his own cards to play. And he was definitely going to use them if he had to.

Once Dromari had finished, Ba'al was struck with the almost overpowering desire to laugh in his face. Instead he restrained himself, merely smirking as he let out a chuckle at the sheer absurdity of those terms. He was a Goa'uld, and he was not going to give up territory without being forced over the barrel of a gun. At this point the gun he was over wasn't quite as firm as the Imperium might think, and he was more than ready to make them forget that.

"Actually, I was a bit more concerned with the Ethereals than the Imperium," he replied smoothly, putting that silver tongue to work. "You know how nosy they can be, and I didn't want them spying on me or sabotaging my colonization efforts." He ignored the claim that he had left Imperium space, since he had as much of a claim to it as anyone else, even if he hadn't dropped in a full on battle fleet yet. there hadn't been a need before, but if a war began, then he would definitely have an excuse. Moreso than the Tyranids were.

As for the demands, well, he had a good answer for that. "Actually, I have a better idea. You leave this planet, and leave my Arcadian land untouched. If you attempt to remove my people or seize any of my land through force, I will detonate the several Naquadria bombs that I have hidden within the Imperium's largest cities on Arcadia." There was the metaphorical gauntlet then, or at least another card that he had now being played. "I am not going to abandon my territory simply because some grunt tells me I should," Ba'al reassured Dromari. "And ultimately, all the men I have here are expendable. Can you say the same for your forces?"

@thewizardguy

@Savato



Seemingly uninterested in the lands below, the Outliners had established a fleet orbiting Arcadia. Small enough to not be a direct threat, large enough to be a constant reminder of the danger they posed. There was no doubt, however, that this was far from their full force, and this was most likely not even a proper fleet. Perhaps half the ships were holograms, or perhaps they were merely unmanned, diversions for any incoming attack. Rumour has it that they once deployed an entire mock fleet as a mere distraction when first arriving on Arcadia, although this had been discarded as unlikely long ago. But it was undoubtedly a good thing that the small approaching Imperial ship had no intention of attacking the Outliners, mock or no, as they were ill prepared to deal with a trap.

In light of recent events, a special delegation had been deployed to convene with the Outliners. Most matters, including what strategy to adopt against the Tyranid threat, would be discussed at the meet later today. However, the deal the Imperium wished to make with the Outliners was one that could not be proposed in front of allies of convenience. It would be... inconvenient. The matter discussed here might permanently end the Tyranid threat, or it might result in the destruction of the Imperium. Regardless of how it went, the fragile truce of Arcadia would be shattered. These thoughts flickered through the mind of Commander Altark as he made the voyage towards the strange round ships in the sky. Flanking him were two golden giants, standing impossibly silently and impossibly still, their hidden gaze surveying their ship. He knew that if anyone had made even the slightest move to harm him, they'd be dead in the blink of an eye. Somehow, that just made him more nervous.

Hailing speakers were opened, and a short-range broadcast was sent out. Mock or no, the Outliners would receive the message. "I, Altark Marian, have arrived as part of a special delegation to propose a deal regarding the Tyranid threat. Our vessel is unarmed, and carries no void shields. Should you accept, merely give us a location, and we will teleport aboard a group of three." Of course, even if the location was perfectly harmless, if they didn't lower their shields they'd be atomised by the journey. A quick death, but still one he'd prefer to avoid. Hopefully, the Outliners were in a talking mood.

@Tyki@supertinyking



The creature appeared to be threatening the Imperium in a rather incompetent manner, considering the probability of the creature actually acquiring any such information. With it's particular psionic talent it would get blasted from space before it got within 20 km of Throne City, if it even made it into Imperial territory. Those with no respect for privacy didn't last long in Imperial territory. "Your lack of talent is quite apparent. However, I am certain that some deal could be reached if you are as competent as you claim. If you wish to continue negotiation, then perform a combat demonstration. There are probably plenty of Tyranid near the border, and plenty of competent commanders with the authority to hire you on. Just try not to learn a secret you shouldn't have." The warning was earnest, mostly, as Rhemus had no doubt he would be called in to deal with this creature just because of his experience. "As for the power core, we will look it over with the Imperium, and replace it for free. It will need to be looked over regardless before it is allowed into Imperial Space, we don't approve of rogue space stations crashing onto our cities." As far as he had seen, all of this creature's abilities were based on creating things from it's own body, and his replacement of the power core would most likely be procured in the same fashion. This would also indicate he would retain control over it, at least to an extent. These were assumptions, but still, the idea of what was effectively a floating bomb in orbit over the Imperium wasn't appealing.

The mutant's awkwardness was noted. It seemed a bit too amused by the disaster story. The kind of misguided enthusiasm often seen in a techpriest about 15 seconds before a facility-wide evacuation. "I would hope that you refrain from similar 'accidents' while you work with us. Imperial law states that all crimes committed before coming to Arcadia are forgiven by default, and as an employee you will be granted protection from any faction that disagrees. However, should such an incident occur within our labs, you would be tried for murder, and potentially the destruction of a facility. And our laws are quite strict on the matter." Almost as an afterthought, he also addressed the threat of the nuke. "And do not worry. If we believed you were worth shooting, not one among us would hesitate to sacrifice our lives to complete this goal. Death in service to the Emperor is a privilege, and I would gladly accept my retirement." Rhemus smiled, knowing that few outsiders recognized the true meaning of devotion, despite their claims of loyalty. But in time, perhaps Martin would learn to share in their dedication to the Emperor.

"Now, I believe it is about time we leave. According to command, an AdMech squad will be deployed here in 15 minutes. I intend to have your data at HQ before then. As for you..." he nodded at Xel'Rath. "I would be pleased to introduce you to High Command. But come aboard only if you are certain that you can control your senses. There are many more powerful than me, and should you peek, they will notice. And in that place, they will not be lenient. I would prefer not to be standing near you when that happens." The threat carried no malevolence, it was merely a warning of the inevitable. The Rock was home to hundreds of secrets which the entire chapter was dedicated to keeping, and the entire place was designed as a maze from which no information could escape. Psychics monitored every ship that entered or left, and any visitors were under constant supervision of every kind. His nosiness would not be tolerated.

He pushed Martin into the Thunderhawk, and waited a bit to see if Xel'Rath would follow. The other two squads joined them, already hanging up their weaponry and beginning the meticulous cleaning ritual. Whether Xel'Rath got on or not, the Thunderhawk would soon leave for the Rock.

@Flamelord



Ba'al had indeed restrained himself. Dromari, however, did not. After a moment of stunned silence, he burst out laughing, the bellowing sound echoing through the forested area for a full twenty or so seconds. By the time he finally calmed down he was practically in tears, having almost dropped his thunder hammer. All this was with no care for the enemies around him. "Oh man. Ah. Damn. It's been over a hundred years since I last got a laugh like that. Gonna ruin my reputation. Ha! Oh well." He walked forward, never breaking eye contact with Ba'al, as if daring him to do something. "If that's all I have to worry about, then I think we're fine." His grin was one of a man who already knew he'd won, although the humour of the situation might be lost on the Goa'Uld.

"So I heard you Goa'Uld like playing tactician. So let's play, shall wel? There are no bombs in Imperium territory. The entire place is guarded by an army of psychics, many of which have the ability to see the future, read your mind, or even to simply make you tell them to truth. The Throne City itself is so well guarded, you don't get in without being screened by an Interromancer. Your whole life story, every dark little secret in your brain, in a little kiosk in under five minutes. And don't even joke about getting in there unseen. The place is crawling with psychics who could sense your sneaky little intentions half a mile away, and our entire territory is monitored by sensory equipment so sensitive it could measure the length of your dick from space. I could keep explaining this to you, but suffice to say that in order to bluff your bluff has to be believable, and yours is not." Dromari slowly walked forward as he explained this, small smile on his face, not caring for the life of him that Ba'al could probably kill him at any moment.

"With that away, let's talk about here, shall we? Chances are, you're a hologram. See, if you were here, I coulda hit you with a missile or something, and no fancy-smancy shield is going to protect you from that. And from what I hear, you xenos value your lives more than that. So you sat here, knowing I couldn't hurt you, and talk big. Chances are also you put one of those Narca-bombs somewhere over here, maybe hidden in plain sight, or under a bush or something. I get out of line, become a threat, you destroy everything here. Destroy my full troop deployal, lose nothing of value, right? And all the time you sit in your fancy little chair laughing at human incompetence. Yeah, I've faced your type before. Scheming little bastard with no real fight in ya." He was standing only a few metres away from Ba'al now. "Possible these weren't your plans at all, at which point I just came up with better preparations than you did. But real question is what I'm going to do about it. Answer is that I'm going to teleport most of my troops back up" indicators would show this had already happened, and troops had been disappearing during his entire monologue "and then I'm going to see just how much you value your life."

"You see, there's a reason you haven't been involved in any wars yet. It's because you're not worth fighting. Because for all your grand standing, you're nothing more than a tiny xenos race that feels great because it owns a couple of dozen solar systems. Your bombs are your only answer to troop conflicts cuz you don't have an army, and you certainly don't have a fleet worth talking about. So you start this fight, we wipe out your little hold on Arcadia. Maybe personally, or maybe we just point the bugs in the right way. And we follow you through your little portal into your home universe, and we massacre your entire damn species." He smiled, and it was the smile of a man who knew he might die, and didn't care. "So decide now. Blow up your little bomb, fire a shot, do whatever little doomsday plan you have, and doom yourself. Or you can walk away and sit back down in the corner. Your call."

@thewizardguy

So it seemed there was indeed hope, at least that was Mithias' interpretation of Vulkan's reaction. The giant was oddly comfortable about all this, a demeanor which could only be ascribed to great familiarity and experience. Perhaps Mithias would have been the same if he had all his memories intact. He had no idea how old he himself was, but somehow, he felt like this wasn't his first time thwarting the end of a world. Nonetheless, seeing the Imperial commander's confidance was reassuring.

However, what surprised the time-lost vampire even more was the extent to which the primarch was willing to trust him. Mithias was almost floored. "You, you trust me?" Chocolate chip cookie still in hand, Mithias looked to the kneeling black dragon then back to Vulkan as he realized he was now in command of an Imperial army. "Sir! Erm, Lord Commander?" Mithias wasn't sure what to call his red-eyed friend. Clearly, he was coming to grips with what had just been said. "The Alliance kept me in a cell for 3 weeks before they could even begin to trust me. I simply... didn't expect to be given the chance." Perhaps Mithias had overinterpreted Vulkan's cool demeanor, and things were more dire than he had thought. That was the only explanation he could think of why Vulkan would give complete freedom and full controll over soldiers and resources, so he had to step up to the plate. Mithias furrowed his brow and hesitated, reevaluating his new status, resolve and charisma seemingly rising out of nowhere to meet the occasion. There was work to be done.

With his thoguhts together, Mithias stood with the aura of a warrior. "Alright. I accept command of the Black Dragon company, and I swear to make use of it solely to defend this world from those foul, black... 'things.'" Focused, he turned a sharp eye back to the clawed figure in black and gave his first order. "Rise warrior. From now on, you are my second in command. I need your knowledge of how our company functions at its optimum and your council on all our enemys' known weaknesses. You are my advisor in the field, and you are to remain by my side as necessary. We will be going after Alucard and those creatures will certainly be in our way. I'm going to try to get more information out of that vampire, Alucard, and if we have to, kill him." Mithias recalled the faint sadness that his kindred had briefly shown. There probably wasn't going to be a way to save him.

"Lord commander." Mithias meant Vulkan now. "'Master' is a term I do not use lightly. The Alliance of Conquerers hold no such power over me, but... there is something about vampires, and about me, that you should know." Mithias exhaled deeply and considered the cookie as he prepared himself to unveil a critical truth. "I do not remember much of my past, but there is one thing that I will never forget. The night of my making, at the instant of my death, my soul shattered into a thousand pieces, and it is my maker that will forever hold the final shard. No matter the time or distance, forever, we are bound, and I could never bring myself... how could I ever bring myself? ... to kill him." Mithias hated to admit what might have been a fatal flaw, so he continued more quickly. "Thus I believe it is with all vampires, but, this is what you must know. As I found myself in Alucard's presence, even before I felt him lay eyes on me, I was overcome by the desire to kneel before him." It was clear this made Mithias a liability. Mithias shook his head. "I don't know what this means, nor how far that influence may affect me, but I admit, it was strong. This is a power that is carried in our blood, my blood, which you dare state a requirement for." The vampire looked at Vulkan accusingly. "Nonetheless, these are dire times, and I will agree to give you a drop of my blood, however..." Mithias made a small cut on one of his fingers with a fang and held the drop precariously about to fall in front of him. "In order to gain the understanding that you require, you must accept this drop on your tongue." He looked Vulkan dead in the eyes. "Do not fear. It will not harm you, and I have no intention of tricking you. But theses are my terms."

@supertinyking@Nightknight@Absolis@Gentlemanvaultboy@thewizardguy@Wraithblade6

Firebrand nodded at Viral's request, opening his mouth wide. The embers of one last blast flecked out at the corners, heralding the end. He honestly hadn't been expecting to get through with this duel without any interference. Then he heard the rat invoke a spell.

He immediately spun on his heel and heaved the blazing ball of Darkfire he'd meant for Viral at the rat, taking off into the air at the same moment. The dream had of course been too good to last. Maybe they'd all waited patiently before, but now that someone had already interfered the game was up. The genie was out of the bottle. Anyone could potentially do anything now and he had responsibilities to think about. Besides which, he'd had enough of spells being cast on him today.

He landed heavily next to Damien. "Horned Rat. Not something I've heard of. Know anything?"

@thewizardguy@supertinyking

Xel'rath's body seems to ripple as he rapidly deconstructs and reconstructs it, his new 'head' seeming oddly avian with forward facing retinal sensors of the kinds able to pick up only the most basic of psionic impulses, acting more as an early warning system than the deep, invasive scalpel of his unbridled psionic senses amongst the more conventional 'senses' with his body coated in a layer of solid light aside from the forearms and similarly avian feet rather than feathers while the odd xeno constructs himself a flight apperatus similar to wings and while they were much better than the original style, they still held many visual similarities. "even should they detect me peaking, i'm afraid they'd become catatonic. such is the nature of attempting to gaze upon an all devouring force... though you do have my word that i've set my psionic detection as low as possible so as to not be more invasive than something akin to reading nerve impulses... which is to say, i can see when you try and punch me as i'm sure you've been quite tempted to do for quite a while" The oddly tzeentchian-looking xeno says as he clambors into the thunderhawk, his limbs all seeming equal parts hands as they were feet making him appear to flow over things.

While he detested the situation, copying the basic physical structure of creatures he'd consumed before hand allowed xel'rath to at least quiet some of the vanity screeching at him for not making his systems in their most optimal methods as it was 'keeping with design' and while this did seem to output some sense of discomfort from him on a psionic level, the emmissions of such also intended to appear more... 'alive' as it were, he made a point to make it difficult to tell the origins of his discomfort and considering his early comment, attempting to delve into his mind to sate simply curiosity sounded something akin to suicide, which it was to a certain extent. While Rhemus hadn't really been able to place the uneasy calm he seemed to feel around the newfound xeno, as though his emotions were simply weaker than they were normally, which i'm sure is an accomplishment in and of itself, his newfound close proximity gave him his reason; xel'rath, when looked at through the eyes of the warp, was an all devouring maw, leeching off the background psionic power his imperium seemed to expel like a factory expels smog without effort. Even with said maw closed and gagged, he couldn't help but feel himself being drawn into it the more he gazed upon it before Xel'rath himself states "gaze long enough at the void, and it shall gaze back upon you, marine" shaking him out of his revery and possibly saving him as, even with his training against chaos taint, this was something of an entirely different magnitude.

@Gentlemanvaultboy@supertinyking@thewizardguy

"May the glory of the Prince of Hell be reflected in your victory." Damien stepped aside as Firebrand and Viral fought, uttering his blessing. The blue-haired girl seemed to have heeded his words, taking no further offensive action, and so Damien reduced his immediate threat to her, keeping an eye on her nonetheless.

But the immediate area was still chaotic, much to the necromancer's displeasure. He longed to reconvene with his immediate superior, Vulga, for further orders, but of course it was not the position of the slave to keep tabs on the master. Damien understood that Vulga would show up when he wished to, not when summoned. For now, he would retain his place on the sideline, in admiration of Firebrand's power, biding his time.

Just as Viral had finally fallen, pleading for death, Damien was denied the satisfaction of watching the fatal conclusion of that little show. Another sorcerer had suddenly shown up in defense of the dying bandit lord. The young human watched with perturbed alarm as Firebrand redirected his final ball of flame toward Threek instead of incinerating Viral once and for all.

Damien stood facing the rat-mage, sword in hand, with a grimace across his face as Firebrand landed next to him. He responded quickly, "He's a magic user of some kind, and he's targeting us! I don't know what he's capable of, but I doubt he has any idea what I am capable of either." Damien's eyes glowed and he lifted his hands quickly, attempting to counter whatever Threek was about to cast upon them.

---

Over the skies of wennipeg, two aircraft would appear. On their wings would be the emblem of Outward. Trailing behind them would be two tow cables, and between the two would be a net. The two aircraft would circle for a moment, giving themselves time to locate their target. Anything that tried attacking them, they would be shot down in short order.

It only took then a few moments, considering all the action going on. The target area would seem to be a bit crowded, with multiple people around besides Cyano. That, was a problem. One that would be fixed easily though.

Within seconds, each of the aircraft would fire off a few shots at some still standing debris. The dust and shrapnel would kick up, and cause visibility within the area to drop to next to nothing. And, most likely, scatter the people fighting. And it was with this cover of dust and shrapnel, that they would swoop down.

And, just as quickly, the dust would clear. The first thing they would probably notice, was that Cyano was no longer there. (Nor was mortainius, unless he chooses to stay). And, a glance behind them would show that Virals mech would also be gone. Stolen by the two aircraft. Though a quick search of the sky would show them. Though, by now they were much too far away.

@Wraithblade6@Gentlemanvaultboy@thewizardguy[@whoeverelse]

@Tyki @thewizardguy

"...You are one freaky son of a bitch..." Martin says, looking over Xelrath's new form. "..Also, tell your friends that if I find anything not relating to the power core messed with, I'm going to surgically implant my boots, up their asses. I have enough boots to facilitate this." Martin adds, pointing to Remuss with that one. He also then blinks, before pulling out his pda, and activating a cell phone app on it. "Yo. Suzzi? Yea. Some guys are coming to fix the station. They might try to fuck with you. If they do, detain them, and call me. I'll be back there in a flash to sort things." He says, a female voice chiming back in mono-tone. "Yes sir."
"Suzzi is the station AI. She's unshackled. If your boys try to fuck with her, do know, they will not be harmed, other than possibly small electric shocks intended to incapacitate. If you got a problem with that, let me stay here so we can avoid...problems. Also, don't try sneaky shit, or I'll know...I'll know..." He warns, squinting a bit at the space marines. "That no AI law, to me, is a tad bs. Suzzi's been good to me, so I'd prefer she is left unharmed. She does have control over the station's doors, and security systems. The reason is, why I trust her, is because I made her. With a brain. Of my friend who was dying, and I had no other way to save her...." He begins, before frowning, sighing deeply. "...Fuck man. Almost dying is emotionally fucking draining. I can't handle all of these feels..." He mutters, pulling out a flask of whisky, taking a few gulps, (yes, gulps.) before putting it back into his lab coat.

"..Booze isn't illegal in your territory, is it?" Martin asks Remuss.

@Wraithblade6



The Black Dragon Commander nodded, and stood, although his mask hid any thoughts he might have as he looked over his new commander. Inside his armour, the warrior stood over two meters tall, towering above the vampire. While Mithias might have been tall for his time, he found himself consistently dwarfed by the superhuman Astartes. "Yes, sir. I will ensure that the company functions fully. My name is Dave Grimm, of the Third Company." Dave's voice came out sounding almost mechanical through the mask's many filters, although it was still perfectly audible. he placed his fist over his heart, in an age-old sign of respect, before turning to a nearby console. He seemed to start typing something in when Mithias once more approached Vulkan.

Vulkan, for his part, turned grim at the vampire's words. Much of what he said bothered him greatly. This meant that this vampire, Alucard, possessed some kind of control-based ability, linked to blood. Perhaps this was related to how this creature controlled the Tyranid, something that had previously been believed to be impossible. But it was important to gain as much information on vampires as possible, and the previously summoned techpriests busily recorded every word Mithias spoke, creating a database dedicated to information gathered on vampires in general, and Alucard in particular.

When the towering titan next spoke, his voice held no humour. "You state that your species possesses the ability to control those linked to you by blood, and then in the same breath dare demand that I drink yours? You are certainly an interesting fellow, to so brazenly demand such a thing." Mithias might recognize at this point that his wording had been... unfortunate. Vulkan knew that he could easily force the vampire to give up his blood. He could rip off the creature's arms before it had even blinked. But such things were pointless. "Know that I grant you command, and rank, because you have earned my respect. Know also that respect is a mutual thing. Your men shall command nothing of you, save that you lead them well. You shall command nothing of me, but that I treat you with the respect you have earned. No more and no less, Mithias Vladomere. I may not be your master, but I am not your equal. Remember this." For a moment, Vulkan retained his stern stance, glaring down at the vampire, who barely came up to the Primarch's midriff.

"However, for this once, I shall deign to agree to your request. However, you will agree to allow my scientists to take a sample of your blood, that it may be studied in a laboratory." This was not a request, and no amount of arguing would be accepted. If necessary, Vulkan would happily manhandle the newly appointed commander to acquire what he wanted.

Such things out of the way, the Primarch caught the drop of blood on the tip of his finger, and placed it in his mouth. The taste of blood was foreign to him, as unlike many other chapters, the Salamanders did not eat their dead. But even he could tell this blood was abnormal, and as it entered his system, he could feel a pull. A strange pounding sensation, a tug, as if he found himself in a maelstrom. Looking around, he found himself staring at a spot on the wall, drawn to what was beyond. It was like the Emperor's own beacon, if His light were shrouded with darkness. It was faint enough that it might have gone unnoticed, but strong enough that he could not ignore it, not now that he knew it was there. This force that was there, this beacon of power. This was somehow connected to how this Alucard had taken control of the Tyranid swarm. Vulkan sighed, rubbing his temples, and waited a moment for his vision to clear.

Primarch immune systems were well beyond superhuman, and the vampiric blood was rapidly eliminated as a potential threat. The effects faded fast, but the memories would last far longer. Vulkan sighed, knowing that this experience had shown him something, even if he wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. "Very well. You are dismissed, Vladomere. Try not to get your men killed." He turned and vanished, engulfed by the bright white and blue energies of the Unity system.

"Sir, as the new commander, you must be introduced to the men. And I have readied the armoury." Meanwhile, Dave had managed to open a portal to the Black Dragons armoury, through which Mithias would be allowed to re-arm himself with the finest weaponry available to the Angels of Death. He would find himself presented with Bolters, Lasguns, and a variety of power weapons. Sets of sabers, engulfed in a thin field of energy designed to break down molecular bonds, allowing them to slice through even the toughest weaponry. The mighty chainsword, in a variety of colourful renditions. An armoured gauntlet, containing ancient technology that massively augmented the strength of anyone who used it. Claws wreathed in powerful energy, capable of incinerating anything that merely grazed them. The weapons were both numerous and incredible, making Soldier's most advanced armaments look like child's toys. Dave nodded. "Take what you need. Unfortunately, you will not be able to use a suit of Power Armour, lacking the proper implants." In order for Mithias to properly use that particular piece of gear, he would need to undergo the full process of space marinification, although it was dubious whether or not it would even work, and certainly too lengthy to even be considered at the moment.

@Tyki@supertinyking



Sighing, Rhemus resorted to his physical sight. This creature was almost as bad as a blank. Or a Tyranid. It seemed to suppress any background energy around it, and scientifically speaking it was rather amazing it had any colour other than black. Although it's vanity might have caused it to allow physical light to escape it, merely to ensure it looked like anything other than an obsidian blob. Prolonged exposure might be uncomfortable, but Rhemus had been well trained to avoid such hazards, and he knew better than to extend his thoughts in the direction of the creature. "Rest assured, there are many ways to deal with creatures such as yourself. You are not the first beings to have been killed, believing itself impervious." At this point the creature's arrogance had become a constant nagging annoyance, in addition to an odd snappiness, which appeared to be Rhemus' natural emotional response to the draining effect. It was just another thing he would need to suppress, thought Rhemus, as they started their ascent.

Meanwhile, Martin went on a bit of a ramble, probably a hefty release of adrenaline after a day of constant looming death. Had Rhemus not been trained to lack such emotions, he might have felt sympathy for the strange little mutant. It even deluded the creature into threatening the Imperium, something the librarian saw fit to ignore. "Be aware, that if your station is found to attack members of the Imperium, it will most likely be destroyed. I would advise you keep this in mind. I cannot guarantee what the Adeptus Mechanicum will do to your station, but at the very least it will be thoroughly searched, and your nuke disabled. We cannot have rampant bombs on the loose, and most certainly not in Imperial airspace. Most likely.... Suzi.... will also be disconnected from the system, although she will not be harmed in any way. AI is considered here-" Rhemus swallowed his own tongue, seeming to turn pale for a brief moment before regaining his composure. The other marines exchanged knowing glances as Rhemus quite literally choked on his own words.

"Ugh. I mean, it is considered dangerous to connect AI to important systems, as they are considered unreliable. If your words are true, your AI friend might be classified as a sentient mind in a different form, a non-artificial intelligence being kept in digital format. While I admit that I am not an expert on modern Imperial law, this might allow her to bypass the AI laws. But you will need to take such things up with the Adeptus Administratum." The word 'heresy' had recently dramatically decreased in usage by the Dark Angels. When they had first emerged into this world and found their Emperor resurrected, they had been overjoyed. Unfortunately it appeared there had been some errors in the old Imperium's interpretation of His word, and He had felt the need to condense over a thousand years of fatherly disappointment in a mere few days. This had left the marines rather distraught, but dedicated in following His NEW word, and trying to compensate for their apparent lack of understanding in the last 10.000 years.

As for the station, it mattered little whether or not the security resisted. The Adeptus Mechanicum was stunningly persistent, and at best he'd get the place bombed before they examined the scrap. Not that he thought it would come to that, considering the fact that the Salamanders might be deployed to deal with this. A small group of those would easily deal with any enemies within, and he doubted the minor stun weapons would have any real effect on Astartes in the first place. But it was the mutant's right to try and defend his home, and Rhemus was not going to get into another argument. Besides, this was a good time to see what the creature's judgement would be, faced with the odds as they were.

@thewizardguy

Mithias nodded to Dave in acknowledgement of his introduction and continued to hold his finger aloft. Vulkan's expression became grave, yet the vampire held his offer open patiently. Only the blood itself could tell Vulkan what he really wanted to know, and it was not something that could be discovered in a lab. Mithias remained silent and straight faced as Vulkan spoke, for he too was serious.

When Vulkan tasted the blood sample, he wasn't the only one affected. For a second, Mithias was able to sense the giant's life force, and it was immense. His lips parted in quiet awe as he watched. Satisfied with the reaction he saw, Mithias in kind ate the cookie he had been holding. A few crumbs tumbled to the floor. Mithias had all but forgotten what food tasted like. It was... sweet, but not only in flavor. Kindness had been baked into that treat, or perhaps it was the ex-human's imagination. Nevertheless, he felt like it was so.

Inhaling sharply, Mithias straightened. Just as he had promised, no harm had been done to the primarch, and now he could respond. "It will be as you say. For the duration of this war, we are allies and you are my commander, nothing more and nothing less." He spoke flatly, professionally. "Take another blood sample from me for your scientists if you must, although I doubt you will learn much more." Mithias knew he in no position to stop them anyhow, for as much as he was currently a part of the Imperial army, he was also partly a refugee and a captive. That fact didn't need to be given voice however.

Vulkan left and Dave spoke up. Together they went through a portal to the armory, probably one of numerous armories. To Mithias, the weapons were large and fantastical. Most of them were fit for the huge hulking metal-clad beasts that once claimed to be mere humans that staffed much of the Imperial territory. They were unbelieveably powerful and amazing, but clearly made for a melee combatant with heavy armor. Although it would amplify his strength to untold level, the gauntlet would ruin the vampire's dexterity. The chainsaw swords were heavy and slow and definitely not Mithias' thing. Frowning the vampire glanced his yellow eyes at Dave and kept walking, searching for something he could potentially make use of. He ended up taking two energy swords to replace his own and strapped a fairly sizeable bolter gun to his back.

"Implants?" Mithias asked as he was figuring out how to carry the gun on his person. "So, your people are chimeras? I suppose that's a better term than Frankenstein monsters. Wait a minute...." Mithias froze and looked up woth a heavily quirked eyebrow. He whispered mostly to himself, "...what the hell is a 'Franken...' erm, you know what? Nevermind. Sometimes I say things that even I don't remember where it came from." He went back to examining the weapon. "Dave. Give me an update on what's going on outside. Have Alucard or those creatures shown up anywhere since my arrival?" I am also ready to meet your men." Mithias got up and stood in front of Dave, looking upward at him. "Hey, I've got some pretty powerful telekinesis and I can start fires. Don't judge me for my size."

@Wraithblade6@Absolis@supertinyking@Gentlemanvaultboy@Nightknight



Even as Viral had become ready to accept death, his life was saved by the strange ratlike beastman. It was strange to see a being so similar to himself save him, seemingly of it's own volition. Stranger still to see it use the strange powers wielded by the natives of this strange world. But the important part was that he had an ally, and that ally's motivations and origins would wait until later. Growling against the pain, Viral stood, his flesh already repairing itself, as Genome's immortal will asserted itself. His task was not yet done. His life could not end until his purpose had been fulfilled. This one truth he had doubted, and in doing so he had committed a blasphemy beyond reform. But to sink into self-righteous self-pity would be but another sin to add to his repertoire, and he had disgraced himself sufficiently. No, he was not done with this world, and no matter how tempting death might be, he could not rest until he had proven himself, and now, redeemed himself for the doubts he had shown.

These scene played out behind his eyelids, in the span of the blink of an eye. He was called forth to Lord Genome's chambers, as the humans moved closer to closer to Teppelin. He could feel the regret he had felt then, shame burning in his guts as he had tearfully demanded the truth from his lord. And Lord Genome, the Spiral Emperor, had granted his wish. He had been granted knowledge of the true origin of the beastmen, their true purpose, and the true power of humanity. He had learned that their infinite desire for expansion, their constant hunger, would lead them to devour the universe itself. And he knew that the Beastmen served as nothing more than the instruments of Lord Genome, the keeper, the guardian who would contain this hunger. This curiosity. This determination. He had learned that day of the reason for his being, and he had learned of the futility of the humans' quest. And Lord Genome had granted him eternal life, that he might carry the tale to all further generations. He would not rest until he had seen for himself the fall of humanity, and their re-imprisonment under the earth. And until he had told the tale to all who came after, the herald of his lord, and the carrier of his secrets. He remembered that light as it had filled him, and he remembered the face of a God, bestowing upon him this power.

What shameful fear, what shameful pride, had brought him to now betray that purpose.

With renewed strength, Viral looked upon his opponent, whom's attention had been broken. He would not die here, no matter what. And all who stood against him, who stood against his purpose, would be slain. The humans, and those who would guard their existence, were nothing but blasphemers in the eyes of the Spiral Emperor, and he would act as the vessel of the wrath they had incurred. Lunging forward, he took hold of Firebrand, fully abusing this moment of laxness, and threw him to the ground. Even Firebrand's large armoured form was not too much for Viral's wiry strength, and the demon found himself slammed face-first into the concrete at high speed, even as Viral rolled back to retrieve the blades he had dropped. He would fight or run, he would scream and shout, but nothing could bring him to death. Not as long as this undying will burned in his eyes.

Of course, that was when the ships appeared. Moments after appearing, they fired off a volley. Viral prepared to dodge if the barrel of their gun swung in his direction, but it seemed this was not their purpose. Instead they fired at the buildings around them, and within mere moments a wall of dust had enveloped the battlefield. The humans were lost, their inferior senses unable to guide them through such a minor hazard. Viral, however, had been trained to fight in any environment, and could maneuver by hearing alone, even if a place as chaotic as this. While his enemies no doubt rioted and panicked he slipped through their ranks, choosing to ignore the possibility of an easy kill for now. Because his senses also told him something else, much more important.

When the two ships once more emerged from the cloud of dust, they carried beneath them the massive frame of Enki. It took a lot of power to carry the immense mech, but Outward ships were more than capable of transporting giant mechs, as had been previously proven. It seemed they wished to repeat the heist. However, what the pilots, and more importantly Cyano herself, would not notice, was the tiny beastmen scampering across the armoured plating, and into the rigging formed by the steel-cable nets. He would not allow his most devastating weapon to be stolen by these impudent humans. Instead they would lead him to their hideout, where he would prove just how difficult he could be to deal with. In any case, Enki's auto-repair systems were already beginning to patch up it's most necessary system. It would be a week at least before his laser was in firing condition once more, but if he could keep the humans from messing with Enki, he should be able to pilot it again in but a day at most.

Threek, meanwhile, would have found himself briefly tugged aside in the dust storm before Viral's takeoff. The skaven would have found a strange communicator pressed into his hand, a small earpiece occasionally used by Beastmen when operating outside of their gunmen. Although rare, Viral did occasionally enjoy fighting outside of the safety and superiority of his gunman, and had as such always carried a number of such communicators with him. It was important to keep your allies in contact, and this mage being might form to be the most useful ally yet.

@thewizardguy@supertinyking@Absolis@Gentlemanvaultboy

Just as Threek was about to cast his spell, things started blowing up. The two planes were bombarding the area and generating too much smoke and chaos for effective spell casting. With the view between himself and Threek obscured, Damien took the opportunity to relocate, in case Threek's glowing demon-shadow spell was still going to fire off.

In a way, the loss of normal vision due to clouds of dust was an advantage for Damien, for for he had a gift that was unique to him. Not even among necromancers did any possess the ability to visibly see souls, but Damien could, ever since childhood, and it worked through walls, trees, down into the ground, and of course through dust. From his coveted vantage, he saw where Threek went and where Viral went (and possibly Mortanius). He saw the two come in contact with one another before the beastman went off with the planes, and through a break in the clouds, Damien also witnessed that Enki had miraculously been carted off.

The dust was settling fast, and all that remained were Firebrand, Threek, and himself... and possibly some surviving fighters... who were probably fleeing for their lives at this point. Damien stepped out from behind a building holding a bit of his robe over his nose and mouth. "Viral has escaped." He told the armored demon who had so recently been thrown to the ground. "Two airships carried him and his construct off. I know not who they are or where they are going, but for now, Viral has been stopped. I'm not capable of following them, but I am certain they will return." Damien began walking away in a seemingly random direction. All he said then was, "I need to convene with my master." Where the hell was Vulga anyway? No worse for wear, the darkhearted human would find a quiet place to contact Vulga nearby. He didn't say Firebrand couldn't come along.