//------------------------------// // Sanctum // Story: Salvation // by voroshilov //------------------------------// When the Irenton Dominion came upon the ruins of Sanctum, destroyed millennia prior by the Stormcannons of an Imperial fleet, it represented a prime strategic opportunity. Not only that, it represented a vital necessity for expansion into the outer rim of the galaxy, being a perfect point for projection of force for the entire quadrant. Due to these facts, the ruins of Sanctum were converted slowly into the largest singular military installation in the entire Dominion, hosting tens of thousands of ships at any one time.  Though the Dominion had not known of the life that had previously inhabited Sanctum - their only evidence life ever lived on it to begin with being small bits of debris too artificial in shape to have been natural - they recognised the distinctive continental plates, set free by the planet’s destruction, and built their bases around them. Five of the seven plates had been colonised by the time Penumbra transitioned into the system, connected by a web of teleporters, bridges and countless other pieces of infrastructure.  The majority of its immense naval complement were in dock, as evidenced by the immense energy signatures emanating from within several of the continents. The Luminary’s course was taking them within the second smallest continent, the one most buzzing with smaller craft and covered in glistering buildings extending deep into its crust. Her clearance would allow her access to the more exclusive of docks, perfect for what she intended.  Her visit would remain just that: a visit, she would hunt around for whatever could have caused the signal she had received within the tame confines of where she could easily go. As she knew all too well, military facilities were best left unmolested, especially ones like Sanctum.  When the Retaliator drew within two thousand kilometres of the assigned dock, a pair of fighter craft appeared alongside it, escorting it carefully within the confines of Sanctum’s second line of defence - which Penumbra had not even seen previously. With a faint flicker, a hole of ten kilometre radius opened within a previously invisible orange shield, closing immediately once the three vessels had passed through, the shield vanishing once again. “What was that?” Penumbra asked the Luminary, hoping it would shed light on more the how than the what. “The Dominion Sanctum Defence Array,” it told her, “located within Continent IV, designed to protect stationary Dominion naval assets from external attack.” Penumbra nodded. “They don’t have facilities like this even on Chronove. Although, I guess Chronove has other defences.” “Affirmative,” the Luminary replied, “Chronove defensive systems are rated against all but a Hard Civilisation Kill event. Sanctum defensive systems are rated against up to a Soft Civilisation Kill event.” She knew what those meant. Fortunately, the actual probability of a Hard Civilisation Kill event was very small. One of the few things Penumbra actually properly knew about the state of the Dominion was the probability of certain dangers. Graphs were enjoyable. An additional plus was that almost all the old Imperial codes and defence conditions had been continued in the Irenton Dominion, along with the Imperial Military Language which all of them were recorded in. She rubbed the back of her neck, talons raking through the many knots in her fur. “Are we landing soon?” She couldn’t tell why she was getting so impatient. “Affirmative.” Penumbra nodded, sighing. She was almost certain she’d never get used to the coldness and curtness of the Luminary. Although, if it was her only companion, she probably would have to at some point. Sure enough, the Retaliator steadily glided down, the shattered crust of Penumbra’s former homeworld growing larger in the viewscreen. Its rocks were blackened, though they were fairly few and far between, forming little more than a facade over the intricate and artificial tunnel system that ran beneath, shielding all of the base’s activities from prying eyes. Their assigned dock was in one such tunnel. Though the landing pad wasn’t too far in, it still gave Penumbra a sense of scale. Towers and bridges and machines of all kinds lined the way in and out, miniscule lights blinking silently into the darkness in either direction. Further in, about ten kilometres from where she was landing, there was a wall of darkness, the light of the star without unable to reach it at all. Rather than the typical soft thump of landing, the whole ship came to a sudden and thudding halt in midair. Penumbra panicked for a second, instinctively reaching for her sword, before she realised that she was not under attack: a pair of arms had grasped the ship, holding it in place above ground. Another clunk and distant whoosh of air followed, with the Luminary confirming it was the airlock docking.  Penumbra rose from her captain’s chair and made her way to the airlock. As she went, she rehearsed over her plan. She would find the communication station - which the base was sure to have - inspect it and inquire about the signal she had received on Sanctuary’s Watch. If she found nothing there - which she wasn’t really expecting to - she would find some secluded spot and try and use her magic to a source. With any luck, it wouldn’t take long.  Exiting the airlock, which was connected to the rest of the facility by a long bridge, complete with windows to view the massive opening of the landing pad - there wasn’t much else to see - she was met by a pair of Warriors, armoured identically to those on Chronove.  “Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra?” One inquired, their voice modulator giving them a fast but no less robotic tone. On Penumbra’s nodding affirmative, they continued, “please come with us.” Reluctantly, she followed the two soldiers, over a worryingly lengthy distance. Much of the base they passed through was featureless corridors, save a few doors that sometimes had a pair of Warriors leave and head down the hall. After what felt like an hour of walking - though the presence of the Warrior’s guns significantly skewed Penumbra’s experience of time - they arrived at a significantly larger door, the hall terminating before it.  It was guarded by another pair of Warriors, though they made no movements to acknowledge either Penumbra’s presence or the presence of their fellows. Regardless, the door parted in the middle, revealing what looked to be a command and control centre. Warriors without visible weaponry manned a hundred glowing orange consoles. In the room’s centre, down a set of stairs and passing two oval rows of consoles, three officers - identifiable by their lighter grey armour - stood by a large holographic table, some ten metres by four metres in size. Penumbra’s two escorts marched her down, standing to attention when they reached the bottom. One of the officers turned to her, inspecting her over, before tugging at one of their comrades’ shoulders. The third officer watched from the opposite end of the table, whilst the two approached her. The second officer nodded to the two Warriors, who spun on their heels and marched off, back up the stairs and out of the control room within seconds. “We had received word you were coming,” the second officer said, with a voice vaguely distinguishable from the other Warriors’, “though it was barely enough time to arrange an escort.” “We weren’t,” the first said, voice slightly more gruff than their fellow, “however, told why you were coming. So, why are you here?” “Now, now,” the second said, raising an open palm to their comrade to temper them, “whilst I would like to know the reason for your visit, you have come a long way. The least we can do is provide a form of hospitality.” Two pairs of armoured heels clicked from behind Penumbra. Turning, she beheld a pair of warriors, one carrying a black briefcase and the other a tray of mugs, each one filled with freshly brewed tea. The second officer grabbed two mugs, handing one to Penumbra and keeping the other for themself. The first officer took the briefcase over to the third, still stood behind the table, and handed it off to them. The Warrior with the tea took the remaining mugs around the closest ring of consoles, handing them out before leaving with their comrade. The second officer’s helmet opened, folding backwards into the armour at their back, revealing a pale, grey, flattened face and bald scalp. Their eyes were a very dull blue, that being the only colour aside from varying shades of pallid grey on their face. They had a pair of slits, slightly raised, in place of the usual cartilaginous nose, the ears similar small holes in the side of their head. They took a sip of their tea and smiled, lips taut as they did so. “Now,” they said, voice vaguely masculine, though Penumbra had read that all Warriors sounded and looked almost identical, regardless of gender, “I know this isn’t some inspection of our facilities. Though, you are welcome to do so if you should wish.” Penumbra took a long drink from her mug, it wasn’t as bitter as she would’ve liked it. “I came here at the behest of a signal,” she said, seeing fit to be upfront, “an old one, granted, a radio transmission.” “Radio?” The officer looked vaguely confused, though it was hard to exactly tell. “We don’t use radio for much.” “It wasn’t from you,” Penumbra clarified, “it was from the planet itself, from before you arrived, or maybe just after. This place used to be a Dauxite Assembly installation.” She couldn’t keep herself from pausing for a moment. “As well as my homeworld.” The officer thought for a moment. “Coincidence,” they murmured, clearly not meaning for Penumbra to hear. “Coincidence?” She repeated, “what do you mean?” The officer looked her in the eye. “We were preparing an expedition down to the core before you arrived. There’s an intact structure down there that we’ve been getting some unusual energy readings from.” They gestured to the projection table, walking around it and clearly expecting Penumbra to follow. “A few days ago we started detecting a radio pulse coming from it.” They keyed something into the table’s tiny console, a graphical depiction of digital sound appearing on it. Pressing another key, the graphic began to move, as sound came from the console. It was a collection of pulses, each of a length of either a quarter or half of a second, varying in pitch slightly between each. The pulses continued for a minute, before they ceased. Penumbra understood the meaning of the pulses immediately. “Digita.” Digita was one of two languages in the Dauxite Assembly. The similarities between it and Assembly Binary were so numerous that one could be forgiven for believing them to be both the same. Indeed, Penumbra had thought they were for a long time. Only fairly recently had she distinguished between the two of them, with the assistance of Tick on Sanctuary’s Watch. Assembly Binary was spoken with a burst of static, typically no longer than half a minute in length, an efficient and smart way for the Assembly’s various constructs to communicate. Digita, however, was far more poetic, more aesthetic, more formal than Assembly Binary. It was the language of the Dauxite Emperor, who was regarded by his people as a living god - though it is unknown if he even existed at all. For something to be communicating in Digita, it would have to be important. “Play it again,” Penumbra said, “I may be able to translate it.” The pulses played again, ceasing again a minute later. “It’s just one word,” she said, “repeating three times. It’s saying: mercy, mercy, mercy.” The officer stiffened. “Any idea why?” “I think it's damaged,” Penumbra said, “take me on that expedition, I might find what I’m looking for.” The officer’s two comrades both betrayed their feelings, even locked in their armour. The first officer was disapproving, the third was approving, or, they may have been the other way around, Penumbra wasn’t quite sure.  “You can translate for us,” the second officer said, laying their mug on an empty table behind them, “has command authorised the expedition?” The first officer nodded. The second nodded back, their helmet returning as the segments folded out from their armour and back over their head. “Let’s get to the ships.” Penumbra had followed awkwardly behind them, the two other officers behind her. They were soon joined by a maniple of ten Warriors, who marched in perfect step in two rows of five - though Penumbra wondered what exactly they’d be used for, considering the expedition was into the vacuum of space. Their walk to the landing pad was far shorter than hers had been, though she quickly realised that was because they’d gone to another pad entirely. Two vessels waited for them, sleek black affairs with little in the way of visible external hardware - far smoother than the Retaliator. The maniple filed into one, whilst Penumbra and the three officers took the other. The Dominion military airlocks were also far nicer than those aboard the Retaliator, without the awkward step between the hatch and either side’s floor.  She remained standing as the third officer moved further within the ship and the second closed the airlock behind them. Without noise, the ship rocked gently and detached from the facility, slowly cruising outwards towards a large tunnel leading straight down. “Take a seat,” the first officer ordered, the reason quickly revealing itself. No sooner had she strapped herself in, the ship started a nose dive into the planet’s hollow core. Mercifully, the dive took barely half a minute, the vessel recentering iself when they reached their desired depth - as Penumbra’s stomach did the same.  “The target is ahead,” the voice of a Warrior came over the intercom, “one hundred metres.” Penumbra hauled herself from her chair, expecting her stomach to suddenly leap from her mouth. Surprisingly, no nausea came, with Penumbra simply walking as normal to the front of the vessel - though with perhaps a little too much compensation for a non-existent weakness during the first few steps. Out the viewscreen hung a smooth white sphere, veins of dull blue light running along its surface, silhouetted against an immense dark canvas of metal. This must have been their source. Though, the orb was fairly large, at least a hundred metres in radius. Its shape also didn’t match with any Assembly constructs. Perhaps this was an Assembly egg, Penumbra thought jokingly, before suddenly realising that she probably wasn’t far off. “Cut it open.” The two pilots and officer turned to her. “What?” One asked, presumably one of the pilots. “Cut it open,” she repeated, “there’s something within it.” “How do you know?” A pilot questioned, but they were silenced by a tap on the shoulder from the officer. The tap seemed to convey all of the orders necessary, as, no more than a few seconds later, the pilot was firing a beam of orange energy into the orb’s surface. At first, it seemed unaffected, until, with a flicker, its surface began to crack. The beam had made half of a complete circle before the blue light from the orb suddenly extinguished. The beam followed shortly after, then the ship’s inner lighting. Only the intercom system remained, screaming out in Assembly Binary and Digita. The Warriors’ armour protected them from the sound, as did Penumbra’s helmet and enhanced strength, though she was still able to translate. “Mercy no more,” she muttered as it spoke, “all systems executing long hold for reactivation. I am Faustinius.” With that, the power was restored.