Necrons 2...

Automated Minutes from Imperial Joint-Select Committee for Sector Affairs

(Static, followed by sounds of general clutter and hubbub. Someone coughs violently in the back ground, several people appear to be eating noisily)

Unidentified:….then I said to her “are you sure you’re not a mutant? Your hands seem to be all over the place, and that trick you just did, I’m pretty darned sure it’s not natural”

(Several senior sounding gentlemen burst into laughter and cackles)
(Voice Print Identified – Cross Ref: General Thaddeus Roover -1IC Sector Defense Force (SDF))

Roover: Well, she turns to me and tells me there could be some grain of truth to it, she was born with one of those vestigial tail things that dropped on off at birth, can you believe it?

Unidentified: By the Emperor, what did you do?

Roover: Handed her straight on over to the Inquisition, filthy mutant. Not the worst I’ve seem but still.

Unidentified: I tell you what, I saw this one mutant, looked exactly like you or I, except his skin was black as the night itself!

(Voice Print Identified – Cross Ref: Admiral Bova Magnus – CIC Sector Naval Forces)

Roover: A black person!! not in this universe. Suppose those Tallarn rag’eds come close, must be a splash of the mutant in them too. With all these savage races out there, you can’t help feeling that it is the burden of the Imperium to get out there and bring civilisation to them all. Still, awful shame about the girl, she was a good looking lass and all. They burned her in the City Plaza last week; along with that albino boy they found hiding in the sewers.

(Silence….)

Magnus: I thought she was supposed to make roasts, not become one

(Outburst of guffaws and snorting laughter, degrades into several hacking coughs)

Roover: (sighs) The wife was most put out, got to be looking for a new cook now, detracts from her life of leisure. Not that I see her much, spends all her time at that Health Spa with her Vostroyan personal trainer Borgs.

Magnus: Bah, never trusted Vostroyans, shifty lot, always look like their about to pinch something.

Unidentified: It’s the beards, just because you can grow one larger than your head, doesn’t mean you have to, bunch of bloody show-offs.

(Voice Print Identified – Cross Ref: Governor Tarkus Babcock – Planetary Governor)

Roover: Flaming savages. Pass the prawn sandwiches, Gaius

(Sound of plates scraping over table)

Roover: No, the ones without crusts. Crusts give me gas

Unidentified: Sorry General

(More plates shuffling)
(Voice Print Identified - Cross Ref: Adeptus Gaius Astros - Chief Scientific Officer of Sector)

Babcock: Where is Dominel?

Magnus: He sent his apologies ahead. His damn gout is flaring up again. Poor thing is laid up in his solarium.

(Door swings open, sounds of stumbling and rustling of paper, general cacophony quietens down)

Astros: Ah, here you are, suppose we better get this little gathering underway. This is…is…er…wait, can’t quite conjure… What was your name again…

Unidentified: Adeptus Stilton Mowberry, sir. Ordo Xenos Aleph Sector detachment.

(Voice Print Recorded – Begin Archive: Adeptus Stilton Mowberry – Ordo Xenos)

Astros: Right, right. Well, Adeptus Mowberry here has something important for us, latest findings off Einmyrria.

Babcock: Where?

Roover: Little planet in the Hellheim system, had a bit of a tussle there a while ago, apparently some of those roboskellies…

Mowberry: Necrons, sir

Roover: That’s the one, Necrons has some little shindig going on there, so we trotted on over and gave em’ what for. Tough little critters, but they don’t like it up em’, wot wot. Weren’t the only ones invited to the party, just about every xeno in the sector turned up, kicked em’ all in the crotch, or whatever ever the have, sent em’ packing. Then half the planet blew up for no particular reason, darndest thing you ever saw.

Astros: Anyway, the archeological team sent to investigate the Necron ruins remaining on the planet was temporarily out of contact due to unusal emanations from the local star, and well, Mowberry can take it from here.

(Sounds of a projection screen being wound down)

Mowberry: Gentlemen, during the communications blackout the team was left in command of the Automated Relay Command…

(Several confused grumblings)

Mowberry: Its like an answering machine with some sentient programming, allowing it to issue orders based on a logic matrix. The A.R.C can coordinate field operatives, weighting up risk and benefit for the good of Imperium, the kind of tough calls that you gentlemen make, during comm’s downtime. It’s a very sophisticated machine (its probally Tau), …

(Nervous shuffling in chairs)

Magnus: Err, how many of these things do we have.

Mowberry: Oh not many, it’s in its infancy, some programming bugs. It can become psychotically single minded at times. Additionally its binary processing keeps switching resource expendability from 1 to 0, causing massive asset loss, sometimes for very little gain, so we only deploy them in systems of low strategic importance. It still performs okay, even compared to your own distinguished records.

(Fit of coughing)

Roover: Err, yes, just get on with it lad.

Mowberry: Well, you can read for yourselves, this is a log of all communications between Einmyrria and the A.R.C during the blackout period…..

(Show Media: Adeptus Edama’s Logs)

Babcock: Good Lord, I see what you mean about the A.R.C, its never going to work with all those bugs.

Mowberry: Actually sir, the A.R.C performed as per its original programming, the natural expendability of the resource in question was 0 to begin with.


Magnus: I don’t quite know what to make of this. You believe this device he speaks of exists, and that the Eldar are in possession of it?

Roover: Poncy Coneheads, no wonder their race is dying, way they act makes you think there’s not much lead in their pencils, know-what-i-mean..eh.eh?

Mowberry: A distinct radiation pattern recorded by the team was traced at the site. It has been seen again as several places all over the sector, with concurrent reports of Eldar activity. They have it, and we think they are trying to hide it.

Roover: Sodding brightlance smokers!

Mowberry: We believe that they cannot destroy the solar enslaver due to the energies contained within. Readings indicate they have spilt it into as many as 3 pieces in order to prevent assemblage.

Roover: Pretentious wraithpillow biters

Astros: General please, we must hear the full briefing

(Sound of Roover mumbling under his breath, combinations of the words, cone, wraith, nonce, monkey, candy ass and other expletives are heard in the background)

Magnus: Tell us more about this device

Mowberry: Further study has allowed us a greater understanding. We have classified the device as a Chronometric High Energon Electromagnetic Solar Enslaver

Babcock: Spare me your fancy science talk, I want the facts dammit!

Mowberry: CHEESE sir, the device is CHEESE.

(Shocked gasps)

Mowberry: We believe that this inauspicious looking machine can draw off and harness the power of the very stars themselves. The CHEESE converts Solar Energy into Chronometric High Energon Dimensionally Displacing Anti-matter Radiation

(Sound of eyebrow being raised)

Mowberry: CHEDDAR sir. It seems that this is used to teleport Necrons (especially out of close combat situations), teleport in monoliths, in fact it provides them with power to carry out all of their functions, and it is the power supply for Necron tomb fleets. It also provides C’tan with a light low-carb snack.

Magnus: So, the source of the Necron power is revealed at last

Mowberry: There’s more. Based upon our projections we foresee that the power of the CHEESE can be augmented further based on the properties of the star it is used upon. It seems for the maximum energy output to be obtained energy must be siphoned off from stars in their larger twilight periods, prior to their extinguishing.

Magnus: Oh My Emperor, you don’t mean…

Mowberry: Yes sir, I’m afraid I do. Mature CHEDDER…

(Exasperated gasps. A glass smashes. Stunned silence.)

Astros: These are the facts as we know them, Gentlemen. We must decide what is to be done

(Hubbub resumes)

Babcock: It could power entire planets. It is safe isn’t it, I mean the radiation from the CHEESE, seems to have had an adverse effect on Edama.

Mowberry: Actually, reports from the Ordo Psychorum indicate that Edama’s mental breakdown was highly likely in any event. That’s why he was posted to a backwater station like Einmyrria.

Roover: We should take it for ourselves. Think of all the xeno arse we could smackdown with this thingymajig.

Magnus: No, think of the technological applications of such a device. We could travel like the Necrons, effortlessly through the deeps of space.

Astros: Gentlemen, please. We have had time to analyse this information in depth and run simulations of the potential use and abuse of such a device. Our studies have yielded only one possible conclusion. The CHEESE must be destroyed.

(Outpouring of noise, shouting, jibing, papers being thrown across the room)

Babcock: Come on, this could revolutionise the Imperium.

Roover: You eggheads are all the same, always trying to spoil the fun for the rest of us. This gizmo drains suns right? Imagine the faces on those UFP pansies when the lights in the sky go out eh? Imagine the damage we could do with this thing.

Astro: We can, and we can also imagine the damage it could go if it fell into the wrong hands. The CHEESE is too dangerous. We believe the Necrons know it is missing, if it remains in one place too long it calls them to it. Even worse, the Inquisition believe this thing is reaching out across spectral bandwidths looking for help, across the Warp, rattling the cages of attuned inhabitants there.

Roover: CHAOS!! That settles it. I’ll set the entire sector on fire before those gribbly-herders lay one damned tentacle on it.

Magnus: What makes you think we can destroy this thing is the Eldar are incapable?

Astro: For all their technology, they sometimes miss the distinctly more blatant solutions. We think a large area explosion could set off a chain reaction within the CHEESE, causing it to release its energies in a confined space and vaporise.

Magnus: That would take an Exterminatus level bombardment!

Astro: We didn’t say it would be easy. Not quite an Exterminatus, just a concentrated enough blast to resonate the structure of the CHEESE , the chain reaction would intensify the power by an exponential level, destroying the entire planet. The effects could stretch out across the entire system.

(Hearty chuckle)

Roover: So in order to save us all from this MacGuffin, all you have to do is destroy an entire planet with this CHEESE bomb?

Astros: Well, we haven’t quite decided on a target uninhabited system that would be suitable for this purpose. Why General, do you know of any?

Roover: Well, I can certainly think of a few habitabited ones. Maybe we can make this thing go bye-bye, and show the enemies of the Imperium what for in the process. STEVENSON!!!

Unidentified: Yes, Sir?

(Voice Print ID – Insignificant)

Roover: What’s the name of that planet those stuntie bastards givin’ us the jip on Cerberex come from?

Insignificant: Hartak, Sir.

Roover: Hartak eh?, hmmm….

(Recording Ends)

Necrons...

Transmitted: Base Station Einmyrria
Date: 2304.007.M42
Security Clearance: Omicron
Ref: GH302/N.19.04.007/A
Received: Imperial Capital, Cerberex monitoring station
Subject: Archeological Investigation of Necron Ruins
Author: Adeptus Prefectus Primus Kaleb Edaman

Following the successful annexation and consolidation of Imperial power on Einmyrria, archeological teams under my jurisdiction have been carrying out widespread investigations into the remnants of Necron structures present on, and below, the surface. While still ongoing, certain findings have been brought to my attention, which I now relay onto you, which I deem may be essential to continuing Imperial interests in the Hellheim sector.
Initially the investigative teams met with little success in charting the ruins in the largest central cluster Caro, the base of operations established on the planets main continent in the aftermath of the Einmyrrian Conquest.
The ,as yet, unknown material from which the structures are constructed has proven impervious to all scans, probes and orbital assessment techniques, leaving manual exploration the only route available to us. The Necron tombs do not willingly divulge their secrets, and sacrifices were made as we penetrated deeper into the subterranean complex. Interference with our equipment inside the tombs has left us vulnerable to the arcane defense mechanisms employed by the Necrons to guard their slumber. Unfortunately members of the expedition were lost to these wondrous technologies, several plummeting to their doom due to a cleverly disguised false floor, others crushed under falling rocks, more still falling victim to spikes and pointed sticks which seem to leap forth from the very walls. Even greater tragedy befell my own pupil Adeptus Cam Monbear. The regrettable incident which led to his demise involving a large rolling stone and a prolonged chase down a tunnel haunts my dreams still.
Eventually these devices were individually discovered and catalogued, allowing for further progress. Has my request for more men and a new assistant been received, we are running a little thin on the ground out here. We have been able to complete full analysis of Necron glyphs and structure. Much of what is revealed is foul Xeno-worship and grandstanding below the notice of the council, but startling evidence of the technologies of which the Necrons possess has come to light. I draw your attention to the following glyphs which are indicative of a device of unthinkable power. As is clearly shown this innocuous and relatively simple looking device has the ability to siphon off the power of the very stars themselves. I have submitted full details of our discovery to the Ordo Xenos for their opinion of the capabilities of the device.
Another discovery made is of further underground Necron structures secreted beneath the northern ice cap of the planet, harking back to a period in its history when its rotation about the sun was differently aligned. Topographic orbital scans would place the complex at the center of the blast crater caused by an explosion of unknown origin at the climax of the battle for this world. I would take this opportunity to request greater resources to allow an expedition to the ice cap to assess what remains, be it more information on this "star eating" device or other technologies which can be bent to the will of the Emperor.
(Sign Off)
(Message back from Relay)
++Request for additional resources DENIED +STOP+ Request for polar expedition GRANTED +STOP+ Proceed with current resources and all due haste +STOP+ May the
Glory of the Emperor guide you +STOP++
(Sign Off)
(Sign On)
To whom it may concern,
I must restate my request for additional resources and manpower if any effective expedition into the ice cap crater is to be commenced. As I have already stated during the penetration of the Necron structures many fine men were lost to unforeseen defensive devices. As it stands my unit and staff are below half strength and extremely nervous about another incursion into unchartered Necron ruins. There are even mumblings that I myself should be the first into the breech, so to speak. Of course I dismissed these as flippant and extremely unlikely to happen, it would be obscene if someone of my knowledge and training were to fall pray to quickening sand or walls which close together rapidly under unknown stimuli (a particular favorite in structures explored so far).
Morale within the unit is low and I am unsure how many more unforeseen casualties they will accept before unruliness becomes them. I myself fear personally for my men and my own wellbeing, I mean there are limits to how expendable resources are in this case, surely.
(Sign Off)
(Message back from Relay)
++Resubmitted request for addition resources DENIED +STOP+ Mission will proceed as stated with all due speed +STOP+ All resources classified EXPENDABLE +STOP+
We all must suffer so the Emperor may learn +STOP++
(Sign off)
(Sign On)
We have finally arrived at the site of the crater. Adverse weather conditions force advancement on foot while ascending to the rim of the crater. Snow storms prevent the use of mechanized transport, which refuses to start, several blinking lights on the dashboard may reveal the cause but our engineer fell into a pit in the Necron ruins at Caro (sensor reports were unable to ascertain exactly how deep it was).
Initial analysis indicates a powerful blast only matched by those expected of an orbital bombardment. Energy signature suggests some sort of highly concentrated plasma implosion, far beyond anything within the capabilities of the Imperial Armory. Xeno involvement is highly suspected at this juncture.
The men are bedraggled yet chirpy, encouraged by the wondrous knowledge which may lie ahead.
(Sign Off)
(Sign On)
On the descent into the crater surface examination revealed little, but as we advance further into this crucible of incineration it is apparent that where we stand was once perhaps even miles under the surface of the planet.
The weather has again turned upon us, while previously we fought snow storms and cascades of ice, we are now presented with unseasonable warmth, increasing ever still as we approach the epicenter of the crater. The snows persist in a manner, being of ash and plasma blasted remains. The persistent storms and pulsing heat are not helping morale.
The men are once again taking umberence to the task presented before them. I have told them to stand firm, but there are mumblings, of shiftings in the ash, unseen watchers and foul mutant fused together by in the plasma heat. I have told them all to stop being so silly but I fear they resent me for my optimistic outlook. I suppose lesser men would be disheartened and perhaps robbed of their precious sanity by the conditions we face, but I am resolute in my steadfastness to persevere on into the bowels of this beast or may be all be struck down for our lack of faith in the Emperor’s guidance.
(Sign Off)
(Sign On)
We have reached ground zero. I initially feared we would not make it, as the air quality became significantly worse, but fortunately every man from the original expedition was issued with a rebreather, so we have plenty to go around.
After days of stumbling I was amazed when a structure loomed out of the ash haze before me. It appears that whatever was at the heart of this complex it was significantly shielded to partially survive the blast as a shell of its former self. What ever the vaults contents, they must have been highly coveted by the Necrons. Some of the markings on the outside of the walls remain, although inside all detail has been incinerated.
I regret to inform you that the little situation with the men has not been remedied but has indeed worsened. It appears that the fraying of their nerves continues, as was highlighted during an unfortunate episode. It seems it got all too much for Ensign Monterrey, who we awoke in the middle of the night (or what classes as night in this smog) to find waving around a pickaxe in an aggravated manner. Of course I ordered him brought to task and in a brief, relatively bloodless, struggle he was eventually taken down. You can mark my words that he was severely berated by myself and locked in a supply crate until his behavior became more acceptable. He has quietened down since, and may be released later today. I am cautiously hopeful that he has learnt his lesson.
(Sigh Off)
(Sign On)
Our worst hopes and fears have been equally excised. Outer markings seem to confirm that this was indeed the resting place of one of the C'tan or Star Gods that the Necron's pay homage to. The fate of this being is unknown. I would highly doubt that such a being could have been destroyed by the detonation here, which leads me to conclude that this tomb was already vacated.
Of greater interest and less speculation is the technological wonders held within the tomb. The "solar enslaver" device may once have been secreted here along with other such xeno-machines. I am assured that it remains here no longer, in that it was not blasted to oblivion along with the complex. While examining the ruins, I did trip and, almost as if guided by some divine intervention, found myself down in the ash face to face with what I am certain it a piece of Wraith bone (a femur I think). It appears the cause of the explosion, and almost definitely the current possessors of the device previously described are the foul Xeno's commonly known as the Eldar. What their motivation for this theft it anybody's guess.
It must be said that I spend as little time as possible in the ruins. The device used to destroy the tomb has superheated the remaining structure, turning it into a giant radiator. If not for the containment suit I was wearing (the only one we have) I may have been horribly burned and disfigured like the men I had with me. With their loss amidst the screams and smells of boiling flesh (odd that I would smell it even through the suit’s air filter) I lost perhaps the few good remaining men.
Since the initial misbehavior of Monterrey (who thankfully was pacified by his 3 days stay in the crate, though by much more than even I had hoped for) we have run out of crates in which to lock the lunatics that spring up among us. Hopefully the situation will calm down now as the few men that remain should be know I am not to be trifled with. I hope to stay a few more days before leaving this corrupted place.
(Sign Off)
(Sign On)
I fear this may be my last transmission. The men are mutinous to the point of obstinence. I came about as I announced my intention to remain at the ruins to investigate for two more days. It seems that they object to their unshielded proximity to the source of infernal heat. They seem tanned and healthy to me, though Coteswain Babibel is peeling a little round the edges.
It was he who stepped forward as the ring leader of this little coup. I fear the heat may be getting to me also, though only added to by the heated exchange between our differing camps. His pig head stubbornness on the issue may have been the key to wrath getting the better of me. After stamping my foot down he remained unmoved and unrelenting, even in the face of my superior archeological arguments. I ordered him seized and crated, but the men refused, as well as pointing out that we had run out of crates in which to hold those unmanned.
In a rash action I remembered little of till after the event I fear I may have bludgeoned Babibel to death with my hyperclip board. This immediately restored order, though my hyperclip board may be beyond repair. Yet the men still grumble like old men deprived of their pudding. I shall watch my back, but I feel a proactive approach to their menace may be more advisable. I shall wait until the fall of night, and let the Emperors will guide my hand.
(Sign Off)
(Sign On)
The men complain no longer. Their petty whining has been silenced and none now question my authority. I have satisfactorily completed my survey and come to the conclusion I was looking for, no further findings on the previous assertions so to speak, but confirmation.
I now set out on the treacherous journey back, alone (though the Emperor is always with me, though I feel his hand holding mine less and less in the ashen blackness that surrounds me) though I also carry the spirits of the brave men with me, their hearts hanging next to mine to give me courage.
(Sign Off)
(Sign On)
They are out there. They think they tread careful upon the sooted ground but I hear them I do. Scrabbling around. It is the men that turned to insaneness, those I was forced to lock away for their own good. They throw my kind actions back in my face. They can't have escaped. I can only theorize that they have somehow freed at least one limb to give foul pursuit. I hear them scraping along, unseeing, stumbling on legs and dragging on arms.
They think to trap me, as they believe I trapped them, the forsaken, the ungracious, the Boxed. They whisper things to me in the night, tempting me with their boxed way of life, asking me to pay homage to their box chaos gods instead of the venerated Emperor. One of them even invited me to a box social. I cannot be more than a few days away from the rim of the crater. I will attempt to shake them there. I have upon my person a demolition charge, funnily enough removed from one of the boxes in order that one of their number be confined within. The very thing which freed space for their incarceration will be their undoing.
(Sign Off)
(Sign On)
Victory is mine. At least victory was mine. Upon reaching the rim, I set about in motion the doom of the Boxkin. I hid the charge in the snows (thankfully the ash storm was confined to the crater, I was met with the daylight and the cold caress of the winter upon my exit) and taking the detonator I found myself a place to watch on the face of one of the ice peaks.
I must have waited for some time, for night to fall, and the Boxed to come for me once again in their ignorance. My keen eyes did not fail me as I saw there upon the rim they came. Not one but many, their name the Boxed, their number legion. I could not help but let out a cackle of laughter on the fate they had visited upon themselves. Pushing the detonator in sweet release I consigned them to the dust from which all things come. But in doing so I sealed my own fate. The ice peaks themselves fell upon me, their betrayal cutting through me with icy claws. Upon coming to I found myself trapped in a pocket of air within the snow, escape quite impossible.
At this juncture I would like to request assistance and rescue if at all possible. If you have the time to divert yourself from the Emperor’s great works to help one poor wretched soul that is.
(Sign Off)
(Sign On)
They come again. I see one now burrowing ahead of me. I am prepared for what will surely be my final battle. My ice pick will strike hard and true with the Emperor’s wrath. He is comes, ready to strike am I….
But wait, there in the corners of my vision, from within the snow to more pop up out of the snow on either side…….
Clever boxes….
ARRHRRHRHHHRHHH…………
(Sign Off)
ATTACHED MESSAGE
Sir
It appears that solar activity temporarily took us out of contact with our assets on Einmyrria. During this period it has come to out attention that a series of unfortunate events occurred leading to eventual permanent loss of contact. A recovery team eventually dispatched discovered the final resting site of Adeptus Edama. It appears he was involved in some sort of frantic struggle resulting in death from an apparently self inflicted ice pick wound to the head.
Still he has provided us with invaluable information into this Necron device. It will be discussed at length in the upcoming council meeting. Here are the briefing notes from the technopaths at the Ordo Xenos.
Note: It may be irrelevant mumblings of a madman, but we will forward the accounts to the Ordo Hereticus. It is for them to assess the extent of any threat presented by these so-called “box chaos gods”.