Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Recaf wasn’t a beverage Yamira drank often. It was coarse, bitter, lacking any semblance of proper taste, and it never was able to keep her awake as so brazenly advertised by the Munitorum’s propaganda boards. Still, there was a sense of comfort in the drink. The thick and rough taste often was enough to snap her back into reality after a long campaign, or a reprieve from a skirmish on the battlefield. It was a rare, pleasant surprise to find that the Merodi had their own version of recaf, a slightly less thick substance they called ‘coffee’. Yamira had stumbled upon a store that produced this ‘coffee’ whilst on a walk with Devon through the streets of Celestia City, a quaint little establishment owned by a wide-eyed, fast-talking, snappily dressed man who introduced himself as Joe Cuppa. Granted, his introduction consisted of accidentally spilling an obscenely large mug of coffee on Yamira, apologizing profusely for giving her severe coffee burns, Yamira assuring him that her burns were from elsewhere, and receiving a discount on future purchases for a month.
Yamira went back the next day and had sugar in her coffee for the first time in centuries.
Cuppa’s cafe became Yamira’s go-to spot after an arduous day, a chance at reprieve from her constant burden of pushing papers. Every visit brought her a new drink at the recommendation of Cuppa, each one providing her a new taste, a new sensation she never even considered possible. Though Cuppa himself was a tad irksome at times with his short-talk and constant running about, Yamira found him good company when Devon was off enjoying his shore leave. Pleasant drinks, somewhat pleasant company, and comfortable seating, it was one of the few places Yamira genuinely enjoyed in the whole of Celestia City.
Today, Yamira ordered her coffee black. Cuppa was too busy handling the other customers to take her order, leaving a lackluster employee in his stead. The cup was hardly filled to the usual standard and the lid wasn’t even fastened on properly, regardless, Yamira paid the usual sum and sauntered off to her usual seat by the window. Her seat was denied to her by a pair of irate griffons in Merodi soldier uniforms, blocking her off with their wings. On any other day, Yamira would have not let this slight stand. She would have demanded that her order be corrected, reprimanded the failure of an employee, and drawn her sword and bolt pistol on the avian-feline mutant Xenos with no hesitation. But she couldn’t. She had no spirit for it. Instead she sat down at the awning outside, exposed to the cacophonous sounds of Merodi traffic.
“Oh hey, I didn’t know Joe sold bacon here.” Yamira had yet to take a sip when she was interrupted by the spontaneous appearance of Cage Jameson. The smoking Stand User seemed to make it a habit of simply blinking into existence around her, somehow showing up at random intervals in her day without her ever noticing him being there. He just invited himself into whatever Yamira was doing, regardless of any objection. Cage sat down in the vacant chair opposite Yamira, two trails of smoke drifting from his lips. She paid him no mind and sipped her coffee. The bitter taste burned her lips and boiled across her tongue. Cage frowned, putting out one spent cigarette butt on the table. “Bad day, I’m guessing?”
“Every day in this damned city is a bad day, Jameson,” Yamira bitterly replied. She raised her cup for another sip, but stopped when she felt a rather painful stinging in the vacant area around her cheek. Yamira sighed and gingerly placed a napkin upon her flayed flesh.
“Yeah, but usually when I make my zings, you give some kinda response,” Cage said. “Usually of the snide remark variety, or a general threat on my life.” The napkin slowly stained red around Yamira’s fingers, the stinging pain not yet subsiding. Cage turned his chair around and rested his arms on the back, leaning over as flecks of ash fell onto the table. “Wanna talk?”
“I have very little to discuss with you,” Yamira said. She sipped her coffee, a mixture of brown splashing against the red on her napkin. She flinched, ever so slightly, but kept herself steadfast.
“Does it have something to do with the fact the Space Pope is here?” Cage asked. Yamira looked up from her cup, catching a glimpse of one of Cage’s trademark smirks. “Called it. Ambs told me that he was here.”
“Ecclesiarch, not ‘Space Pope’,” Yamira sneered. “The title bears respect, treat it with such, and do not associate it with a long dead Terran faith.”
“Woah, don’t let Rev hear ya saying that,” Cage chuckled. “She’ll start going full sermon on you, and we’d be here all day.” Yamira rolled her eye and returned to her drink. “So yeah, Space Pope. Figured that’d be a huge deal for you, considering how often I see you praying.”
“It was.” Yamira curtly replied, only to quickly silence herself again with another sip. Cage just nodded and leaned forward on his seat.
“You probably figured out that he’s supporting the Merodi’s unification efforts, huh?” Cage quickly moved aside to avoid the empty coffee cup hurled at his head. It instead struck a man who was not tall, sitting in a bush with a pair of binoculars next to a man who was not short. “Gonna take that as a ‘yeah’.” Yamira huffed and reclined in her seat, refusing to look Cage in the eye. “Now I kinda understand why you’re pissed at me, I just kinda have that effect on people and damn proud of it,” he popped two fresh cigarettes from his bandolier and put them to his lips. “But care to explain why you’re pissed about the,” he took note of Yamira’s scowl and her grinding teeth through the vacant hole in her mouth. “Ecclesiarch being here?”
Yamira somewhat relaxed her scowl, but still kept her irate glare. “In the few moments I have to repeat myself, Jameson,” Yamira said. “It usually follows an immediate execution of a disobedient Guardsman.” Cage frowned amidst lighting his new cigarettes. “But, I will say it again, I have very little to discuss with you.” Cage puffed on his cigarettes, sending small clouds overhead and into the sky.
“... Yeah, but I’m not a Guardsman.” Cage smugly replied. “So you can’t shoot me without consequence, so spill.” Yamira wished she hadn’t thrown her cup at Cage earlier. She would have had a better shot the second time around. Still, the smoker was intent on getting her to speak, and Yamira was equally intent on keeping her mouth as sealed as a Space Marine’s reliquary. She knew that Cage was going to keep prodding and prodding her until he either grew bored and left, or she finally decided to end the fool’s life. No idea how long Cage’s attention span was, and murder here wasn’t as viable as in her service. Yamira needed an out, something to divert attention away from her quelling rage, something to completely shift focus. Then, it came to her. Something she had pushed to the back of her mind for the past few weeks, but resurged like a slap to the face. Yamira took a deep breath and turned herself back towards Cage, who was once more enjoying his four burning cigarettes.
“Who is Delilah?” she asked. Cage’s eyes bulged behind his sunglasses as he took in a startled gasp, inadvertently inhaling his cigarettes directly into his mouth. In his sudden panic, Cage swallowed the still-lit cigarettes, coughing and wheezing as they burned the insides of his throat. He repeatedly punched his chest as he belched clouds of black smoke and pained tears ran down his cheeks. Finally, he managed to cough three of them up onto the floor, but he still felt one more still stuck inside, still burning and still coughing. The whole ordeal nearly brought a smile to Yamira’s face, it was the funniest thing she’d seen in weeks.
“Who,” Cage coughed and wheezed. “Who told you about Delilah?” He wobbled in his seat and wiped his tears away from his face with a dirty thumb.
“She told me herself,” Yamira said. “After the debacle on Armastus, she pulled me aside, threatened my life, told me she was watching me, and mentioned you missing out on a… date, I believe.” Cage coughed his last few clouds and slumped in his seat.
“Did she say anything about ‘putting me through the wringer’?” Cage asked.
“Word for word.”
“Yeah, that’s Delilah alright.” Cage propped his elbow on the table and rested his head upon his hand. Now he didn’t want to look Yamira in the eye, tables properly turned. “It’s… complicated.”
“Complicated enough to warrant an explanation?” Yamira asked. Cage pursed his lips and inspected the remnants of the soggy, snuffed out cigarettes strewn about his feet. “After all, you seemed so insistent on prying into my personal life, I should be permitted the same courtesy.”
“Oh, you crispy bitch.” Cage groaned. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. Delilah Morreo and I are… kind of a thing. Except it’s less of a thing and more of a…” He rolled his wrist about, once more glancing to the side. “Hostage situation? She and I are from the same universe, known each other for years, hell, we used to be work acquaintances back before we got picked up by the Merodi. Don’t get me wrong, there was something there between us for a while, but she’s…” Again, Cage trailed off.
“Possessive?” Yamira suggested.
“Suffocatingly crazy,” Cage admitted. “Like, not in the ‘I’ll text you a lot in hopes you respond’ kinda way, but more like that ‘I will paint your ass in barbeque sauce and throw you to the crocodiles if I see you looking at another woman’ kinda way. Delilah gets scary when she’s mad.”
“She did punch a wall and leave a sizeable dent when I interrupted her,” Yamira mused. A lumen bulb went off in her head. “Wait a moment, does she think that you and I are-” Cage’s impromptu laughter did alleviate her concerns somewhat.
“Oh, god, not in a million years.” Cage laughed. “No offense, Yamira, but I’m more into women who have… all of their face.” Concerns alleviated, but rage and loathing still ever present. Cage sufficiently calmed down from his fit and leaned over his seat once more. “... Though knowing her, that’s a big possibility. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t touch you.”
“A bit late for that.” Yamira muttered. Cage frowned, spinning his cigarettes in his mouth. He pushed himself up from his chair and walked around to Yamira’s side.
“Alright, c’mon, get up,” he ordered. Yamira looked at Cage with her usual contempt, unaware of the smoke swirling behind her. “Up and at ‘em.” The smoke cloud pushed through her seat and quickly brought Yamira onto her feet. She stumbled a bit and nearly fell to the pavement, but Cage swiftly caught her by the nape of her collar and tugged her back onto her feet. Her response was to grab Cage by the scruff of his bomber jacket and hoist him off the ground. “Woah, you are… so much stronger than I realized.”
“You have two seconds to explain yourself before I blow a hole through that nicotine-addled head of yours.” Yamira growled.
“Neat trick, can you do that without a gun?” Yamira glanced down to her hip, reminded of the absence of her bolt pistol. Cursed ‘No Weapons’ policy. She released her grip on Cage and set him back onto the ground. “Look, I’m gonna take you to a place I know to get you outta whatever funk you’re in right now. No arguing.” Yamira tried to object, but a wreath of smoke trailing from Cage’s cigarettes ensnared her. “Adventure time!” As the two walked off (one technically walked, the other was dragged by the heels, cursing her partially fried mouth off), the man who was not tall and the man who was not short watched them zip from sight. They didn’t leave the bush, even after they were gone, and simply kept their presumed watch on a theoretical path they were taking, until finally asked to leave by a League member answering a public disturbance call.
“‘Boomshop’?” The sign Yamira read was hanging by a pair of worn chains, swaying back and forth in the light breeze over a steel-plated door. It seemed more down-to-earth compared to the sleek, high tech look much of Celestia City boasted at every corner, from the bricks that built the place up to the chain-link fence that surrounded the portions on some derelict yard. It felt like a melding of both suburban and urban lifestyles, all foreign to the gothic industrialized Imperium of Man. It even stood out amongst the future-tech architecture of the standard Merodi buildings, a peculiar oddity. And yet, for some odd reason, Cage felt it pertinent to bring Yamira here.
“Yep.” Cage said, smirking proudly. “Finest drink-stand, alchemist hub, and scrapyard hidden off the beaten path.” He jabbed a thumb to his chest, twirling smoking loops with his lone lit cigarette in his mouth. “I’m on good terms with the owner, so she’ll cut us a good deal.” Yamira took her eye from the sign and brought it to Cage in an incredulous gaze.
“Alchemist?” Yamira repeated. “As in the craft of… turning lead into gold?”
“I wish.” Cage said. “Vee is more of a specialty chemist, making all sorts of drinkable stuff that has all kinds of effects on people.” He gestured to a sign in the window, displaying a trio of corked bottles filled with a variety of colored liquids. “Good prices, too, compared to the price gougers from Nirn.” Cage grabbed Yamira’s wrist and dragged her into the building proper. “C’mon, I’ll introduce ya.” Yamira relented. She groaned as she stumbled up the stairs and was practically thrown indoors.
The transition from the stifling hot air of the outside to a cool, conditioned interior was welcoming, but Yamira was surprised at just how cramped and cluttered the storefront was. Despite the relative size of the building itself, the store was more wide than properly accommodating, dividing the front and back of the store with a wooden counter. Various displays lined the walls, filled with innumerable odd bottles, flasks and jars, all sporting unusual oddities within. A jar full of amphibian eyes, a glass flask filled by strange black hairs floating in a ghoulish green mixture, a vial of a thick red substance eerily similar to blood, some sort of preserved skinned serpent skewered on a spit, the variety of things on display made Yamira feel a touch queasy. Cage had casually walked up to the counter and began rapidly ringing the small bell, over and over again with little regard for decency.
“Hang on, HANG ON!” A voice shouted from the back. “I’m in the middle of a very delicate procedure, just the slightest slip could result in-” A burst of pink smoke erupted from the curtained-off back door. “... Never mind. I’ll be out in a second.” Cage plucked his cigarette from his mouth and sniffed at the smoke as it wafted through the air.
“Mmm… Strawberries,” he mused. Yamira watched the pink cloud pass overhead with incredulity. Every day in this madhouse of a city, Yamira found such baffling things that questioned her very sanity. The curtain parted in the doorway, and the owner of the establishment stepped out. Much to Yamira’s surprise, the owner was not only human, but a significantly young girl, her tannish head barely even reaching over the counter. She wore a casual white dress and long white gloves, all stained pink by whatever concoction she had been working on, but what caught Yamira’s eye was the absurdly large red hat the girl was wearing. It covered much of her head, barely concealing a mess of black hair, and draped all the way down to the small of her back. She hopped up to counter with the aid of a concealed box and reclined on the countertop with a smile on her face.
“Hey Cage, good to see you again.” The girl greeted Cage. “Looking for some more of your party favors? Just about got that Voice Changing Elixir perfected, only need to work on fixing the taste.” She stuck out her tongue and furrowed her brow. “Black licorice, still the worst taste in the multiverse.”
“Nah, I’ll hold off on that for now.” Cage said, chuckling. “I’m actually here to get something for my…” He trailed off, wracking his brain for some proper way to describe his relationship with Yamira Kalov. Friend would be too much, and they weren’t exactly co-workers due to different lines of work. Associates? No, too formal, and Cage loathed formality. “... Person I brought with me.” He turned and gestured to Yamira, who stood stationary behind him with a mute glare. The girl visibly reacted at the sight of Yamira’s horrifically scarred face, wincing and tugging at her collar.
“Yeesh, should’ve come to me sooner.” she said. “Though I don’t know if my Growth Potions can fix something like that. Skin’s been dead for too long, her face is fifty-percent scar tissue.” Though it was a correct assessment, Yamira still bristled at the comment.
“You’d be best to watch your tongue, child,” Yamira said. “Now, where’s the actual proprietor? I’ve never had patience for children.” Now the girl seemed to be offended, putting a hand to her chest and staring aghast at Yamira.
“Hey now, who are you calling a kid?” she snapped. “I’m probably a lot older than you are by a mile. Better looking too, but that’s not fair to compare looks against your mug, ain’t it?” Yamira was about to stamp over and pull the child over the counter for well-deserved discipline, but Cage had already stepped between the two and held up his hands to keep them from killing each other.
“Hold on, I am not breaking apart another fight today, it’s too exhausting,” Cage firmly said. “So let’s just calm down, take a deep breath, and talk about this like rational people.” ‘Vee’ leaned over the side and sneered.
“Cage, I recognize that uniform. She’s Imperium,” she said. “Word is that ‘rational’ isn’t part of their vernacular.” Yamira again tried to push Cage to the side, but the smoker kept his ground.
“Not helping, Vee,” he grumbled. “Let’s just back down, start over, and take it from the top. Okay?” ‘Vee’ pouted, but nodded her agreement. He glanced over to the still fuming Yamira, rolling his cigarette between his teeth. “Okay?” Yamira relented and stood at attention, but she still kept her spiteful gaze on the girl. “Alright, good. Let’s start with introductions.” Cage glanced to ‘Vee’ and gestured to Yamira. “Vee, this is Commissar Yamira Kalov, she’s a liason for the Imperium of Man, currently doing desk work for Relations.” He turned to Yamira and mirrored his actions. “Commissar, this is Vanna, the owner and proprietor of the Boomshop, from the World of Twelve. Vanna, Yamira, Yamira, Vanna.” Vanna politely bowed, but she was a bit rigid in doing so.
“Nice to meet you, Commissar.” Vanna said.
“Likewise,” Yamira said. Both knew they were lying, but putting hostility aside for now would ease any situation. “A very interesting shop you have.”
“Thank you, I’ve been running it for a few years now,” Vanna said. “I sell potions, remedies, and concoctions at reasonable prices for relatively reasonable people.” She picked up a small shot glass filled with a soupy green liquid. “Care for a free sample?” Yamira stared at the glass and the thick green goop inside.
“... Sample of what?” Yamira asked. Vanna looked at the glass, looked at Yamira, then at the glass, Yamira, the glass, Cage, the glass, the glass again, a stuffed yellow bird hanging on the wall, and finally Yamira.
“I have no idea.” She slid the glass aside and lounged on the counter. It came to rest at the base of a bovine skull on a platter; a light splash resulted in the steady growth of moss on the bone. “What brings you here today?”
“Jameson dragged me here for some odd reason or another,” Yamira said. She glanced over to Cage, who was currently inspecting one of the whiskered buns on display. “Which you still haven’t explained.”
“Huh?” Cage dropped the bun back onto the display case. “Oh right, the thing.” He plopped his elbow on the counter and drummed his fingers on the wooden top. “Miss Overcooked over here is in a bad mood and needs some cheering up. You got any… I dunno, potions that make people happy or something?” Vanna pursed her lips and tapped her chin, humming a few bars of some song she knew to herself.
“Maybe. Might have to check the stock for it,” Vanna said. She dipped behind the counter and began rummaging through a storage case, hidden from sight. “It’ll take a while, I’ve had to re-catalogue everything to have pictures on the bottles since my new assistants can’t read words.” She popped back up, holding a plastic tube that reminded Yamira of a brightly colored whistle. Vanna took a deep breath and blew into the tube, a sound akin to a lazy hive of bees resounding throughout the shop. After Vanna had ceased blowing, a series of noises broke out from the floor above. Things crashed, furniture was being knocked about, heavy thumps followed, all accompanied by nasally shouts and whimpers arguing with one another. Vanna just smiled and waited. “They’ll be here any second.” Yamira carefully listened to the noises above as they faded away, an uncomfortable feeling rising in her chest at the familiar snorts and grunts.
A ceiling tile came loose and nearly fell atop Cage’s head, missing him by mere inches. Naturally, Cage took this with his usual grace and cool, simply lighting another pair of cigarettes to replace the one that was haphazardly crushed by the falling debris. Three green shapes fell after the tile, one landing on top of the other. Yamira felt her blood freeze, stepping back as the three things untangled themselves. They were gangly green and hideous creatures, each a full head shorter than Cage, with long ears, long noses, beady red eyes and mouths filled with sharp, crooked teeth. They wore naught but dirty loincloths and oversized boots, and had crude knives slung to their hips. They looked virtually identical to one another, save for the oversized tags sticking out of their floppy ears, marked with crude etchings of numbers. They scrambled over to the counter and started eagerly jumping.
“We’re here, Missus!” They each shouted in raspy, giddy voices like nails on a chalkboard. “We came as soon as ya blew tha’ ‘orn, Missus! Whaddaya need?” Vanna gently lowered her arms and lightly waved, attempting to calm the green creatures down.
“Dimbolt, Bolt’ead, Niknak,” Vanna said, her own voice calm like a schola educator. “I need you to go and grab me the box of potions with the big happy face on it. The one in yellow, got it?”
“Got it, missus!” Said Dimbolt, the one marked as ‘1’.
“Big ‘appy face on it, missus!” repeated Bolt’ead, the one marked as ‘2’.
“We’ll get it right for ya, missus!” added Niknak, the one marked with a backwards ‘3’. The trio clambered over the counter and zipped behind the curtain, hooting and hollering their orders with surprising vigor and joy. Vanna turned back from the counter and took notice of Yamira.
“You, uh… doing alright?” The Commissar was absolutely aghast. Her jaw had dropped, the sinews that hung in her heavily scarred cheek were stretched thin and visibly bleeding from the tension. Her one good eye had shrank to a mortified pinprick. When Vanna spoke to her, Yamira ran to the counter and slammed her hands atop it.
“How long have you been dealing with this infestation?!” she demanded. Vanna reeled back, confused and a bit terrified to be this close to burned flesh and the Commissar’s dead, vacant eye.
“Uh… Infestation?” Vanna repeated.
“Gretchen!” Yamira shouted. “Emperor damned Gretchen here, right before me, freely running around and scattering their spores to the winds, you have a Xenos infestation on your hands!” Vanna glanced over to Cage, looking for some semblance of assistance. He was too busy pretending his lighter wasn’t working and standing in another corner of the room.
“Right…” Vanna put a small hand on Yamira’s shoulder and slowly pushed her away from the counter. “I’m not infested. In fact, I think those Grots eat any potential rats that get in. There’s nothing wrong here, lady.” Yamira’s good eye twitched and her fist clenched.
“You referred to them by the Ork name, there is DEFINITELY something wrong here! More so than the rest of this bloody City!” Yamira wildly exclaimed, flailing her arms about. The curtain to the back room parted, and one of the Grots returned, holding a rather heavy-looking box filled with clanking bottles. Yamira immediately saw it, and screamed bloody murder. She jumped over the counter and lunged to the diminutive alien. The Grot yelped and dropped the box on the ground, sprinting off into the back room. “GET BACK HERE SO I CAN WRING YOUR SCRAWNY, GANGRENOUS NECK!” Yamira kicked the box aside and hurried after the Grot, her eye blood red with murder.
The back room was a surprisingly spacious storage room and laboratory, filled with all sorts of boxes, crates, and display racks containing numerous fragile, and potentially valuable, jars and bottles of ingredients. At the center of it all stood the Grots, scraggly and beady eyed. Yamira snarled and charged after them. The Grots all shouted something in their Ork-language and scattered, running about in different directions to escape the rampaging Commissar. One started climbing on the shelves, another dove into a pile of boxes, while the third was just running around the shelves themselves. Yamira sprinted for the only one on the ground, arms extended and fingers wide for grabbing and strangulation. Yet, the damn Xenos was continuously out of reach for her, its thin yet lanky legs outpacing Yamira even in the cramped corridors of the store room. When it finally decided to dive out a window, Yamira had collided with the wall in a desperate attempt to get close. She cursed and swore, but was temporarily distracted when a ceramic jar fell down beside her, shattering into pieces as several gemstones scattered about. She looked up and spotted the Grot above. It had lost its footing and was now hanging by its little grubby claws.
Immediately, Yamira jumped onto the shelf, digging her gloved fingers into the wood and jamming her boots into whatever alcove she could manage. Unfortunately, while the shelves could accomodate a 75 lb. Grot hanging from it, it was not built to handle the full weight of a 125 lb. grown woman. The shelf moaned and creaked, tilting ever so slightly and spilling its contents onto the floor little by little. The Grot squealed as the shelf crashed into the one adjacent to it, and into the next, and the next. By the time the domino effect had ceased, the floor was covered in shattered glass, wooden splinters, all sorts of scattered and destroyed ingredients, and the broken dreams and ambitions of the store owner. Vanna and Cage stood in the doorway, bearing witness to the utter carnage. The former was utterly mortified, while the latter just stood there, face buried in the palm of his hand. Yamira emerged from the wreckage, her hair a mess and many of the scars on her face opened up, staining her black uniform an unfortunate shade of red.
“WHERE ARE THEY?!” Yamira screamed, swerving her head about and darting her eyes like a rabid animal. “I’LL SLAUGHTER THEM! I’LL SLAUGHTER THEM ALL!” Yamira raised her fist to the heavens, proclaiming at the top of her voice. “DEATH TO THE XENOS! DEATH TO THE MUTANT! DEATH TO THE HERETIC! GLORY BE TO THE GOD-EMPEROR OF MANKIND!” Yamira threw her head back and howled in mad laughter, adrenaline and piety pumping through her blood like a life support system on overdrive… and everything went black.
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Well this will be interesting, hope the commish is alright and we eventually find out who booked her a one way ticket to Hersey city.
Also on a more serious note Gretchen, this is gonna be a problem cause where you get Gretchen you get Boyz, and where you get Boys you'll eventually get yourself a full blow WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH, This is definitely looking like a warehouse of Number 2 Powder next to a matchstick factory.
yep war between them and the imperium of mankind is just a matter of time
and this is why you dont try to clam a commissar it dose not work they just deliver more justice (kill more guardsmen)
Ah, recaf. Make strong tea, then make strong coffee with it. Or is it the other way around?
Yeah, this isn't Galaxa Doop. He's not even an anthropomorphic crocodilian.
"Sirs, I appreciate that you need to lurk ominously right now, but I need you to do it elsewhere."
I suppose the question is what Yamira will wake up to. The gretchen? A prison cell? The Ecclesiarch's disappointed hat? Time will tell.
9823919
In an alchemy lab? Sure, the spores will survive whatever reagents they encounter, but I can only imagine what manner of improbably mutated orkoids might result.
9823919
9824611
It's all under control. I assure you, it's all under control.
oh hell
9828676
Sou What you say is that Celestia comes to humans ho fight their very survival to threaten them to submission. Without even thinking that maybe she should you know concentrate against chaos gods if she can just erase them. That would mean that she is a uncaring to all actual life and is a tyrant and emperor would not submit his entire race to such. Imperium was forged to fight every other being sou that mankind would survive. In a "master of mankind" book he says that nothing last forever even his imperium. That would still not stop him from making sure that is last as long as possible. And only his vision would guarantee it.
9829180
Celestia isn't the one who comes to the Imperium in this fic.
9829180
I'm saying that the representative gave him a taste of his own medicine and that he is now on the receiving end of a Unification War.
And you're 99 times out 100 he would defy them and prove that even if humanity won on it's own, it would spread it's conquest and bloodlust to the stars. So when Merodi Universalis encountered the other 99 40k verses, they wiped them out. This is the one parallel universe where E listened to reason.
9829180
Also, the only way to kill the Dark Gods is to starve them to death...by stopping war. Either through peace or annihilation.
9834089
And i dont think you have thought this thru. If they bring technology to the imperium that would mean that mechanicus would have to lay off jobs because they would lose demand to some because they held a monopoly. And it will spread further because of thous ho will give materials to products will have to lay off more jobs switch will lead to manufacturers to lay off even more jobs because equipment to gather those materials will lower.That means countless millions are starving because they cant pay for food and dying because imperium is a fragile with this kinda decisions. Some of them will blame this to the emperor because this is his decision, that means crisis of fate and changing their religion to more heretical ones. And because there is no ordo hereticus to hunt them down they will spread. Meaning more riots, more insurrections and more death and destruction. And more death there is more it politicians will use this to blame others switch will lead back to the emperor and xenos. And these riots will have to be put down violently, and all these deaths will be blamed at the xenos. You are looking a decisions that will kill countless lives with in few years. And emperor would know this.
9834164
I'm not saying otherwise. There are more than a few organizations who despise Merodi Universalis for either going too far or not far enough. And I'm sire the Emperor, of all beings, can agree that you can't save everyone.
But the point is they are trying to graphically minimize the body count compared to the norm.
Plus, with a large amount of universes in this particular multiverse being various MLP fanfics, most of them have food for days, so there's plenty of non-technological gifts that they can give to the Imperium.
And yes, I know that the Emperor is probably the biggest hypocrite in fiction. But as I said: one out of a hundred.
There is also Ka to consider, a Warp-like force indigenous to this fanfic. I'll pull a conversation describing it and it's significance from another fic tied to Merodi Universalis.
9834164 Here, this is how it all works in this multiverse.... It's also proof that you're a Flower.
9834193
But if his decision is between unified imperium against yet another apocalypse level race against them, or fractured imperium switch will be weakened sou much that imperiums enemies will use to their advantage. At least unified he would have a change to hold for thousands of years because of all the resources he would still hold. But if his imperium is on constant civil war, they would certainly fall.
9834213
Ahh but what you fail to realise is that tag says "warhammer" and "crossover". If it is another universe then it is not already made universe that is warhammer nor then crossover.
9834234
Fair enough.
9834220
Yeah, he would not hold off for thousands of years. Amber Dust has been revealed as a Daughter of Manhattan. I don't know if you read Empress of Ponykind, but to summarize: Celestia is the Emperor reborn and the Daughters of Manhattan are a pony Space Marines in mimicry of the Salamanders.
Plus all the other universes, billions of universes, that include Stargate, Mass Effect, DBZ, Star Wars... While fandoms will argue for eons over 1v1 outcomes, all of those coming together against 40k only ends one way, and it doesn't take a thousand years. Unless every single faction groups together against this common foe.
And a divided Imperium falling to it's enemies? The same multiversal military that would destroy an aggressive Imperium would protect a peaceful one.
9834242
9834234
Aight you two, author of Songs of the Spehres here, the story which sets the multiversal continuity for this one. I made Merodi Universalis and introduced this 40k universe into the story. Mal here is just fleshing out some of the early history.
Now, I'm clearly coming in at the end of the convo here, but I'll see what I can address.
Short version: You're both wrong!
Long version: Here's what's going on in regards to all your various points...
Now, some clarifications that may not be evident.
First of all, this is not the default Warhammer 40k-verse. This is "If The Emperor Had A Text To Speech Device" Warhammer 40k. Which is to say almost all the lore is the same, but prominent characters have skewed (comically) personalities and recent history isn't exactly the same.
Second, this is early Merodi Universalis operations. MU is not a god-tier amazingly powerful civilization, they've just got fancy technology, magic, and a willingness to try to help. Their army, while impressive, isn't all that large or well-trained with the exception of the portion that are Gems. They're Low-Class 3 at the moment, which means they barely register on the scale of multiversal civilizations at the moment.
The Emperor is the TTS Emperor, who is well known for doing things just to mess with people. But more than that, he decided to side with them simply because it's practical. The multiverse has things that could be of use, and being on good terms with a power that's *willing* to put up with your crap is amazingly beneficial, especially if that power (MU) is willing to turn some of their power onto Chaos and the Tyranids directly. Which they are. And actively are doing. I don't think Mal's mentioned this yet, but the Merodi did trick some Orks into charging right into the Eye of Terror. There's currently a war going on over there that's seeing semi-unified resistance against chaos.
The Meordi, in this time, do not have the power to wipe out 40k, they haven't advanced enough. This is the only 40k universe they know of for certain.
The Merodi have decided the Chaos Gods and Tyranids need to be stopped, but realize that they can't do it alone without making themselves too weak in their other worlds. Their current plan is to assist where they can to give the people of Warhammer 40k hope and reason to band together to face the evil, which they are actively undertaking. They're willing to meet halfway just about anyone (though the Dark Eldar cross way too many lines.). The Merodi have similar operations taking place in Tau and Eldar space, though Tau has obviously been the most effective.
Unfortunately, the Emperor has told them direct war cannot stop the Chaos Gods. They are currently looking for another solution to end the gods permanently. They do find it, eventually, but that's beyond the scope of Mal's story here. So for now the Merodi are just on damage control, trying to get the galaxy to limit the influence of Chaos.
Yes, Merodi actions will cause civil wars and unrest in the Imperium. This is well known and was brought up to the Emperor in early talks. He decided, basically, "THE GALAXY IS ALREADY DYING AT AN ALARMING RATE, INCREASING THAT A BIT TO BRING ABOUT SOME ACTUAL GODDAMN HOPE SEEMS LIKE A PRETTY FUCKING OBVIOUS CHOICE." This was weighed and decided to be worth it by both parties involved. If the Emperor hadn't agreed, the Merodi may ahve abandoned trying to help the galaxy and instead moved to 'evacuation' plans for whoever was willing to try.
No argument here, just wow, nice dedication!
The Imperium could very well split over this. I have no idea if it does or not. Sounds like that'd make a good story!
I hope this cleared up some stuff. Adieu.
-GM, master of Ciao.
9834750
Oh, oops. Thanks for clearing that up.
Though I must point out that the author named Amber Dust as a Daughter of Manehatten.
This is from the fanfic God Empress of Ponykind, in which the Emperor (canon 40k) turns into Celestia and does it all over again with ponies. There technology is still but the Daughters are a Legion (Salamanders to be exact). So that's another 40k verse that they've encountered.
Is this a mistake on the author's part? Or does it not count because that Emperor is removed from 40k with the exception of memories.
9836345
I have no clue about the sisters of battle, I've given Mal authority to make decisions regarding them.
Actualy it's a case of Mal using a fic I've never read.
-GM, master of calls.
9834750
Using that logic still has it flaws. Tts has shown that references from books like "the last church", "The beast arises", "Horus heresy", "ciaphas Cain". Even in tts, emperor has not shown any kinda empathy to other races. For a example, And lore wise in tts, Vulkan killed eldar and a human population because they worshipped eldar. Therefor it would be out of character of him not to kill anyone ho interactions with xenos. Sou taking context from thous books, my point would still stand. And if you say that merodi is not even given their full force switch is even weaker than imperium, how is that gonna help? They would leave a small force and imperium needs to suffer because of it with internal struggles? Imperium would literally be stronger and unified from the beginning without their help. And what comes with them giving tech, well its not possible because of mechanicus not allowing it because their religion forbids it. And if merodi forces it, then they are against religions freedom. And because mechanicus holds dominions over every single tech and forge of the imperium, they will dictate all usage of it. For a example, AI is forbidden by the emperor himself sou they cannot use anything even similar.
And if merodi will try to evacuate, well it is a similar thing if a white windowless van drives next to you and asks you to "hop on". That is a situation what imperial citizen would see it.
I would of course overlook all of this if you answer this simple question.
Why is this not done behind closed doors? Why is this alliance switch would cripple the imperium done openly front of xenophobic population?
9837505
TTS Emperor, while an ass, has been shown to interact with xenos. Even if he is a xenophobe he still finds them useful. Most recent TTS stuff has his 'essence' ordering his people to TALK with, of all people, the DARK ELDAR. It's outrageously bizarre. If he's willing to make nice with them even for a little while, the Merodi are acutally easier.
The Imperium is just one of several aspects in the galaxy. They are also working with the Tau, Eldar, Orks, etc. In a direct war the Merodi *could* win, it's just that 40k is FAR from the only universe they have to deal with. It would require far too much resource devotion. So they want to help - by unifying the forces. The Imperium sure is a problem child, but their hopes are that 'through the magic of friendship we will change them!'
If you read SotS you'll see that it takes well over a century for that level of progress to actually be reached. The Imperium *does* eventually join like... a long, long, LONG time from now.
The thing is, while the Imperium itself would be more unified without MU involvement, the Galaxy as a Whole would not. The Merodi are serving as middle-men and stopping wars between Imperium/Eldar/Necrons/Orks/Tau/etc and directing conflicts toward Chaos and Tyranids. By forcing everyone to work together (starting with the Ork v Chaos WAAAAGH) they may not be creating friends, but they're appealing to a sense of practicality. Direct a few of the right people in the right place and 'the enemy of my enemy' comes into play.
This whole thing with Yamira and discussing things with the planets of the Imperium annoyingly doesn't see what the Merodi are MOSTLY doing; directing the aggression of the galaxy where it is needed. Usually through "we'll give you this ship and unusual magic superweapon if you all charge this Chaos/Tyranid force together." The Imperium has been the LEAST willing to go along with this, which is part of what Yamira's whole deal is.
This may be true, and Merodi doesn't force it. *THAT SAID,* when we were discussing early 40k involvement, the Emperor won't "give a shit" about the mechanicus if the Merodi provide an FTL drive that doesn't cut through the Warp. Some things are just too beneficial. That said, this may not be done overtly - the Emperor might use shenanigans to convince the mechanicus they just discovered lost information somehow.
If they had decided the Imperium was a lost cause they would be evacuating Tau and Eldar and the like, not the Imperium.
Simply because of their Main Project (i.e. uniting forces against Chaos and Tyranids galaxy-wide) is not an easy thing to keep secret. People hear about these strange metal-white ships that appear, interrupt fights, and regularly try diplomacy to turn them onto a different force. It was decided - perhaps foolishly - that being open with what they were doing would better ensure willingness to cooperate. There are probably a lot of things being done behind 'closed' doors - the Emperor and Corona "Sunset" Shimmer have odd discussions - but Merodi policy is not to keep secrets unless Absolutely Necessary™. This may have been the wrong choice in this case, but people don't always act with logic. (in fact they usually don't, but that's neither here nor there.)
-GM, master of FACTS!