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MillionNovel > Getting Warhammered [WH 40k Fanfic] > 148 – First Mission

148 – First Mission

    148 – First Mission


    <span style="font-weight:400">“What benefits?” Coldstone asked with what I wagered was cautious optimism. He wanted to be convinced, but wanted to take back enough benefits with him to convince every one of his fellow Ethereals too.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I have both long-term and short-term ones, let’s start with thetter,” I said, running my hand over the roots making up my chair as I thought of an answer rapidly. The question wasn’t whether I could give him something to convince his friends to leave me well enough alone, but <i><span style="font-weight:400">how </i><span style="font-weight:400">much was I willing to give. More urately, what was the lowest I could give to them that would have them off of my back and wouldn’t at the same time be empowering possible future enemies. “Let’s start with the easy one, I can and am controlling this entire. From the smallest de of grass to the tallest tree. The whole world is mine, and will fight for me should anyone invade it. That makes this nearly impregnable short of a-busting weapon.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Like you’ve extended to me the grace not to take my well-meaning words as a threat, I shall do the same for you now,” Coldstone said. “But do borate please, it would set my heart at ease.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“It is just how it is,” I said, shrugging as I gave a superfluous wave of my hand and a trio of trees bowed to me at the trunk like courtiers greeting their queen. “I could also extend my control over Vallia itself, if you allow me to and supnt the malicious mind supposedly controlling its ecosystem with myself. With time, the whole System could be under my control.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Trees and grass hardly make for much of a foe for modern weaponry,” Coldstone said evenly, ncing over to his guards wielding sma rifles.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Make them shoot the white tree,” I said, pointing over at a smaller tree whose bark I’d just changed over to the pseudo-Adamantium-like material. “Let’s see how that mere tree stands up to a sma rifle.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">After a nod from the Ethereal, one of the guards took stance and shot off a single bolt of sma dead centre into the trunk. It melted, searing a fist sized hole into the white-ck structure, but even that left most of them stupified under their masks. sma bolts could bore through heavy tank armour, and a random tree only got a small crater sted out of its side.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“If you remember,” I said, pulling the Ethereal’s attention back to me. “The material that covered that tree was the same one that made up the outer shell of my still-growing fortress.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Would you be willing to trade that material?” he asked, an edge of excitement in his voice.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Unfortunately,” I said, sighing mournfully. “It loses most of its toughness when its source nt dies.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">As I said that, the struck tree withered, branches curling up like a dead insect''s legs as its vibrant crown of green leaves turned dark and dead brown. It’s bark ked off, turning into ash-like dust as it fell and revealed the soft flesh of the inner trunk.


    <span style="font-weight:400">It was 99% theatrics and 1% reality. Sure, the material only worked perfectly when it was alive, but it had nothing to do with that random tree. It didn’t even have a source, it was an entirely bio-engineered substance that I never bothered to make sure could survive on procreate in the wild. Only I could make it, with the gene-temte in my head.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Also, it wouldn''t turn to dust even if it died, it would just turn less coherent and about as malleable as regr steel. Nothing as extreme as turning to dust.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“And the source nt can’t be extracted?” he asked, a suspicious squint in his gaze.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I’m afraid not,” I said. “Only my power, linking this up into a single weave with the help of the artefact I’d subsumed into it, allows the specific nt to live. Onto happier subjects though, I can, eventually, perform the same terraforming I’d done on this moon on others without the need for my lingering presence and careful control. In time, I can make <i><span style="font-weight:400">Seeds </i><span style="font-weight:400">that would turn previously uninhabitables into paradises in a matter of months.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Under your control?” Coldstone asked, the cunning negotiator taking the lead from the amicable conversationalist that he’d been a moment before. “You hand us poisoned fruit and expect us to eat it, despite knowing the risk, just because it looks delicious?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I wish,” I said, sighing again. “I’m afraid my power can’t extend beyond a single System from the ce where the artefact has been initially used. I can — eventually — make these <i><span style="font-weight:400">Seeds</i><span style="font-weight:400"> that would work without my supervision, they’d only have enough power to terraform a single and then they’d wither away and leave the with the new ecosystem behind.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">That was also bullshit of course, even if I really went through with making those Seeds, they’d stay alive and go into a sleeper mode while sustaining themselves off of the host’s warmth. If I ever flung by and wanted said to, I don’t know, shed off its surface like a moulting snake, I could just activate the slumbering seed and let it grow.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Coldstone was rightfully expecting me to pull something exactly like that, so I might be forced to make the first couple of the Seeds actually work how I described them to. It wouldn’t be a huge loss, so I wouldn’t mind if it got me some fancy stuff from the Tau in return.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I see,” Coldstone said, nodding. “I’m afraid we’ll have to … verify that, before making any more long term agreements on the matter. But that is a decidedly long-term benefit, what about more … immediate benefits?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I can grow just about any organic material if you give me a source to replicate,” I said. “I can keep alive any nt, even ones that wouldn’t find the ce hospitable. I could also still serve as an auxiliary for your military with my men, especially if you allow me some time to … fix-up that old relic of a ship.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Don’t you need to remain on the?” Coldstone asked, clearly fishing for information, but I was willing to let him have what he might think was valuable information if it meant the Ethereals thought I was willing to y along.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I can leave once the terraforming is done and the can sustain itself naturally,” I said. “This is the core, the entirety of it has been turned into the Artefact and while I need to be here to actively control and guide it, once the’s ecosystem is up and running, I can let it handle itself without interfering. Taking part in a battle or two every now and then shouldn’t be a problem.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“A battle or two every now and then,” the Ethereal repeated. “Isn’t that a price far below the worth of what you’ve received? A moon the size of a to make your own.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“A deste clump of rock with an atmosphere less hospitable for life than the gullet of a Tyranid,” I retorted, giving him a derisive snort just so he knew what I thought of his kind’s generosity. I asked for being allowed to set up a base on Vallia, not even the whole, and they instead gave me this shithole from where I could watch the I supposedly wanted. “Point me at a, one close by that you want to rid of enemies. Preferably non-human ones. Let me show you what having me fight for a battle or two for you is worth.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">*****


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Aaaaaaand exit,” I said, the gravity engines of the retrofitted ship dialling our velocity down to physics-abiding levels. The light of distant stars that’d been nothing more than blurry streaks through the bent space tunnel around us, snapped back into ce and cleared up. “What are we looking at?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“<b>Initial sensor readings show signs of intense void-battles having taken ce throughout the System. The freshest heat signature is 1.456 AUs away from the System’s Star. Approximately thrice that far from our current location.”</b>


    <span style="font-weight:400">I nodded at Zedev’s dreadfully bored-sounding report, promising inwardly to give him some new toys for doing his job withoutint even if I so evilly dragged him away from his newest obsession: integrating some ‘immortality organ’ into his dream body temte.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Look for any voidships,” I said, mentally reaching for the gravity sensors spread out around the hull of the ship. “I want to know where every voidship in the System is, along with the rtive locations of all celestial bodies, primarily … Calthor IV.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">I finished once I''d managed to dig up the name of the deste, frozen piece of rock I was supposed to help some sorry excuse for an Admiral dislodge the Imperials from.


    <span style="font-weight:400">This was my first mission, a test from Coldstone that we agreed on after a short back and forth.


    <span style="font-weight:400">He wanted me to show my irond loyalty towards the Tau Empire and the Greater Good by taking part in an active battle against my supposed erstwhile nation. I, in return, told him I’d really rather not take part in ssing an Imperial filled with billions ofrgely innocent citizens.


    <span style="font-weight:400">As apromise, we agreed on this cial hellscape. Calthor IV was a shithole with hailstorms throwing around spikes of ice nearly horizontally so fast that they’d turn anyone not wearing power armour into swiss cheese.


    <span style="font-weight:400">As a result, it wasn’t settled. But it had a sizable garrison and even a few voidships both in orbit and patrolling the System. Why?


    <span style="font-weight:400">Because, of course, it was the predominant source of promethium in the subsector and promethium was what voidships, farmers, meltaguns and who knew what else used as fuel. It was the 40k version of oil, and the Imperium wanted everyst drop of it.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The n was simple. Batter around the Imperials, blow the half a dozen mining bases up to the high heavens and then sod off before reinforcements arrived.


    <span style="font-weight:400">If all went well, it could be the perfect opportunity to test out my new precious little baby- *cough* I mean my new ship.


    <span style="font-weight:400">It was a slender beauty covered in a pure white carapace-like outer hull with hardly any straight lines and all the gentle curves you’d expect from some futuristic luxury spaceship.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I was loving it, even though it was the first iteration of the prototype. It had Voidshields, a gravity engine, gravity sensors and a whole slew of weapons batteries from the goodies I got from the Tau for my ‘Warp Engine’.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">Speaking of, that thing should be turning to dust right about now. </i><span style="font-weight:400">I felt the urge to giggle and cackle like a loon bubbling up but I suppressed it. I’d have lived to see their faces when it happened, s, we’d crossed the entire Tau Empire since then, and the distance separating us was significant.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Found them,” I said, the gravity sensors detecting the telltale signs of a dozen voidships clumped up together within just a few tens of thousands of kilometres of each other. “Set course and prepare the boys for a fight. I’ll beunching a lot of them onboard to have a nice fight and see how they fare.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">This ship was smaller than the fake Imperial light cruiser I had before — not that it was any weaker or less dangerous for that, quite the opposite — so I couldn’t fit all 15000 Orks now under mymand so I just dumped all but the ones on the top three floors on my new moon to y around. The best ones though, they got toe along with me for a good old scarp.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">I’ll see how well they do without too strict of an oversight or one of my crew hanging over their shoulders.</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">Plus, sending in even just Fae with her burgeoning psychic abilities would have been overkill for any one Imperial battleship. <i><span style="font-weight:400">Okay, maybe not Fae, but Selene or Val could eviscerate them in minutes.</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">Settling in to watch the stars as we coasted over to the battlefield and then to watch over the fight, I hung back in myfymand chair.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Did anyone pack popcorn?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">*****


    <span style="font-weight:400">Zara repeated the breathing technique beaten into her very bones at the Sch, her Psychic Hood tamping down on her uncharacteristicpse in focus as her rebellious power tried to re up.


    <span style="font-weight:400">It didn’t help keep her focus in the moment when Inquisitor Thrace nced back at her, the thrice-damned hood — that doubled for her ve cor — likely alerting her ‘owner’ of herpse.


    <span style="font-weight:400">She kept her face from as much as twitching, the man was like a bloodhound when smelling weakness and would have torn into her with the ferocity of a Carnifex if only she gave him a reason to.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Zara refused to show weakness, she refused to be his next victim. It was a pipedream, she knew. Inquisitor Thrace went through the Psykers assigned to his retinue like they grew on trees, none of the previous ones havingsted more than five years.


    <span style="font-weight:400">She remembered the day she first met the man, how he sat on his high throne with his previous Psyker prostrating on the floor next to him.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Zara still remembered the vacant, empty expression in the older woman’s eyes. There was no life in them, no intelligence for both had been burned out of the woman following one tiny failure on her part by the very same Psychic Hood Zara had inherited from her.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Serve well me as you are now,” the man had said, his voice cold with a hint of malicious mockery barely veiled beneath its surface. “Or you’ll serve me as she does, like a mindless dog. Prove to me that keeping your mind intact is worth the effort. Prove to me that you are better than this failure.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Zara had been terrified, watching the Inquisitor yank the chains wrapped around the poor woman’s neck like she was a dog.


    <span style="font-weight:400">That was her fate, an inevitable fate that befell so many of her kind. Still, Zara fought and struggled, never failing, never letting her focus wane. She would beat the odds, she would outlive that Emperor damned monster in human skin. That was the only victory allowed to her as a Sanctioned Psyker of His Majesty’s Most Holy Inquisition.


    <span style="font-weight:400">If she was <i><span style="font-weight:400">especially </i><span style="font-weight:400">lucky, she might even be able to y her cards well enough to survive the fallout of the Inquisitor she was supposed to guard with her life dying.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Unfortunately, luck was out of stock at the moment, and it seemed the both of them would find their end soon as torn apart chunks of flesh floating through the void.


    <span style="font-weight:400">”Tau reinforcements have entered the System,” the cog-head fiddling with some holographic star chart said with only a hint of the panic Zara felt at his words. “ETA … what?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Speak,” Inquisitor Thrace ordered, leaning forward from hismand chair. “Now.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“It makes no sense Sir,” the cog-boy said, sounding entirely unbothered by the Inquisitor''s rising wrath. Or maybe he just couldn’t see it as well as Zara could after spending three years with the man, she’d more than learned which twitch of his facial muscles meant what, and the man was <i><span style="font-weight:400">livid </i><span style="font-weight:400">at the moment. “They are approaching us at interster speeds, far faster than any Tau ship I’ve seen had the gall to use inter-System.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Double check the sensors,” Inquisitor Thrace said, leaning back and appearing mildly mollified. “If it’s the same, give me the damned ETA, I want to know how long we have until we are overwhelmed by their reinforcements.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“ETA 23 minutes.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Fuck,” Inquisitor Thrace said with feeling, and for once Zara agreed with him. “Prepare to pull away, if we can’t handle the lot we arending on the and try to get lost in the mine shafts until the eventual Imperial counterattack arrives.”
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