ErsatzEmpress
Half Pint
Bingelly
ChronicleMan
Fuzzybootz
Simple Unicycle
Sep
Heat
Nightwing95
Izurich
Terran Low Orbit
Observation Post Beta-Four
Observation Post Beta-Four
“Acolyte, your presence is requested.”
The tone that spoke over the comms system was modulated, first through the cybernetics of the speaker and then through the tiny warbling of the comms itself. Even so, the sound of surprise, and a hint of bitterness, was impossible to hide.
If there was a hint of surprise in the speaker’s emotional cores, then a practical tidal wave of shock, nerves and perhaps true fear crashed over Oma as she realised what that entailed. Ever since the first nuclear exchange between the forces of Terra below the work of the entire team had become a frantic cascade of repair work on fried sensors, dispatching Flight-Servitors for surface work and the examination on what information they could glean. The most senior of the stationed acolytes, Acolyte For-Tek, had even been dispatched to the surface itself. Some of the listening probes had been so badly damaged that the dropped servitors couldn’t complete the task.
Oma did hope the Magus was currently ok, but she didn’t mind the additional benefit of his share of the snack bars (officially known as high-sucrose energy replenishers) while he was away. It was one of these she was currently munching her way through in a rare break in her duties that the announcement had reached her. She knew that Magus Hemmar was currently involved in a critical meeting with powerful members of the Priesthood back on Mars, requesting her presence was highly irregular. Something like that would only occur if it was of true importance.
Oma scrambled to her feet, an effort which was made easier by the exceedingly weak gravity, they’d had to priortise other systems. She patted herself down, adjusting her robe and casting aside a few crumbs of snackbar, breathing a steady routine of calming exhalations. It didn’t do much good, but she had little time to waste and began to pull herself through the post. With the low-g, she’d installed a few handrails into the bulkhead where the ponderous systems of the post didn’t already provide handy holds to use. The Magos had agreed to the modifications son the grounds it prevented unhallowed use of some of the sacred systems.
The Acolyte had never entered the Communications hub before, it was the sole duty of the Magos to make outgoing communications and he alone performed maintenance on those systems as well. Much of her work had travelled through the systems though, her fingerprints of hardwork all over the data packages sent onwards to Mars.
On this occasiona though, as she pulled herself up the central ladder (a previously quite strenuous task) the circular door that she had never seen open, slid apart to admit her into the Post’s most sacred space. It was almost twice as large as her own workspace, perhaps only rivaled in size aboard the post as the lounge/kitchen the Acolytes shared at the base of the post. It was entirely different to that utilitarian space, however. The walls were covered in cables and cogitators, each gilded with sacred symbols. The Magos himself stood at the centre, and then she beheld the manner in which the great Magi of Mars spoke with her superior.
She had previously imagined some sort of holographic communication, or perhaps simply just coded streams of Binharic. What she beheld instead was a marvel that many could find monstrous. A vast assemblage of cables, stablights, and other assorted mechanical parts arose from the wall, as if compelled by biological impulse, forming through the assemblage of their parts the face of a vast humanoid being. They spoke with one voice, and as they did, voxhailers within the amalgamation provided said voice, and lips of cabling moved in time.
“Approach, Acolyte.”
Had the force of gravity had much more hold on her, she would have surely faltered in her step, but instead she simply drifted for a moment, before remembering to bow her head.
“Honored Masters, Omnissiah bless you, and bless me for this day, I am humble in your presence.” Her colleagues often bemoaned her lack of doctrinal orthodoxy, but in the face of such terrible majesty, she found her faith.
“We are all blessed in the Machine God’s light, your Magos has presented your findings, but we would hear from the datasmyth herself.” While the machine-face was dominated by two large optical eyes, glowing a brilliant, cold, blue, she noted there were countless other small lights across the construct, which could well be where the Forgemasters truely observed from. Still, she opted to lock her own eyes to those larger, baleful glows. She had expected to feel some sort of passive hostility from her superior, as one could see this as a slight against his interpretation of her report, but in the face of the Forgemasters, if that was present, she didn’t notice.
“As we reported several cycle ago, conflict between the Technobarbarian states of Terra have escalated, the nation known as the Pan-Pacific Empire, so named for the last of Terra’s oceans contained within their territory, deployed an arsenal of atomics upon their rivals in Ursh.” That act alone had sent a ripple of shock through the Priesthood, such technology largely being considered lost from the grasp of the current generation of warlord nations. “These are the two older of the greater powers upon Terra, and it is likely why they beheld each other as the greater threat.” As the Acolyte spoke, she spread her hands out before, one of her few more advanced augments coming into use as a rudimentary hologram of Terra and the shifting frontiers of the world stretch out between them, emitted from subdermal implants across her fingers and palm.
“I believe, from my own dataweaving, those in the upper echelons of the Empire believed their conquest of Merica was assured, and did not wish to unduly damage the resources and cities they wished to claim, while they have little aim other than destruction in their campaign across the Siber Iceplain and Asiatic Dustfields, indeed, they had previously completed a through campaign of extermination against the Xeric tribes.” Those had not been transmissions that she had enjoyed looking through, no matter how she tried to compel her emotions as a good acolyte of the Omnissiah should. “They were not aware, however, that Ursh was in retreat on other fronts.”
The holographic map depicted in the space between her hands shifted, drawing attention to a great scar of activity across the Eastern reaches of Europa. Where once such scars had been the sign of ages past, they now told a story of horrific bloodshed already done, and yet to pass. “The Imperium of Man, previously confined to only the ancient valleys of ‘Tamia, has expanded at great pace, you will find in my reports further examination of their surprising technological advantages, which present innovation, rather than simply the discovery of ancient caches.” There was a hiss of pistons from behind her as the Magos adjusted slightly, but the great face of the Forgemasters did not react. “The attack from the Empire could not have come at a worse time for Ursh, their allies in Nordyc that were holding a buffer against the Imperium had begun to fall, and the route was shortly competed. As nuclear fire claimed their East, the Imperium has begun pressing from across their Western border.” The projecion she ‘held’ changed once more, depicting the hazy recordings of the giant, armoured clad, warriors of the Imperium. Annotations in rapid binharic formed around the images, notes she had made herself about the obviously genewrought warriors. “It is speculative, but I had decoded transmissions between this Imperium and exclaves upon Luna, and I believe it true another surge of these warriors will be imminent, with aid from some of its resident powers.” This was the crux of the new information she had provided, that the Imperium, alone of the three Terran powers, had now established true connections with non-terrestrial actors.
“Speculation, but you believe it so?” Finally the great face spoke to reply to her, and once again it’s cacopahnic voice trembled through her as much as it did the metal around her.
“Yes, Blessed Forgemasters, what’s more I believe there are increasingly common occurances of interstellar travel, using craft which our sensors are blind to.” This was almost tantamount to a heretical blow to the Martian Priesthood, to accept that some of the brutes on Terra could have crafted something beyond the ability of Mars, but judging by her lack of immediate censure, she imagined both the Magos and the Forgemasters had found her evidence compelling.
Steadying her nerve again, she continued. “With the Empire focused on crushing Ursh, it’s invasion of Merica has collapsed entirely, the push from the Imperium across the Eastern part of the region has secured the territory as vassals or allies, now they prepare to push into the heartland of the Empire, already aquatic battles have begun to rage, but they are merely preludes to what each plans in that theatre.” Those had been sobering communications to uncover as well, her mind had barely comprehended the forces being moved by both powers to engage each other, even while both still battled on fronts thousands of kilometers across in Ursh. “And…that is not all, in Ursh, well, I do not know how to describe it in ways that are hallowed.” Omah barely got those words out, sure she would finally bring some from of wrath down on her.
“You speak of the Wychcraft.” The great face spoke, and she found herself nodding with frantic relief, tinged still with her dread and concern.
“The core of their nation has gone dead, not simply quiet in the datastreams, but impenetrable. When the world turns to face us, and I regard it through the observation port, dark clouds gather across the heart of Ursh. I do not believe they are beaten, and I fear what they are willing to do.” It was an emotional response, but in such times even the Martian Priesthood are allowed such things, she at least hoped they would consider this.
“Your words are judged in the Machine God’s light and found to be true, Acolyte, you have worked well.” If the earlier relief had been a salve, this trembled through her almost as greatly as her continuing dread of fear. “This Imperium has attempted to converse with Mars, as it does Luna.” Omah had expected such, but had managed to hold off on attempting to uncode those transmissions, a particular saying about local terran felids and curiosity had been brought to mind. “In light of your discoveries about the foulness of their foes, we will seek an agreement of compliance. Your presence will be beneficial to the delegation.”
“P…presence where?....You Excellencies.”
“To meet with this Imperium, and their Emperor.”
