Summary: A SI Tech Priest's adventures during and after being assigned to the Angry Marines.
Link: https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/a-cogboy-amongst-angry-angels-40k-tts-si.781072/#post-60591010
Word count:64k
Chapters:15
Chapter 1
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...Audio/Text File."Personal Log/Enginseer Scipio/Arrival."...
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"Welcome to the Litany of Litany's Litany digital library and more specifically my personal files, If you're reading this you somehow either have better infiltration skills than the Bloody Magpies, Alpha Legion and Harlequins put together or some Inquisitor thinks my personal ramblings can help understand how to make Cogboys that aren't obsessed with toasters and understand what science is, as you'll soon see I'm, unfortunately, one of a kind.
It starts out in the year 2018, 018.M3 to any Imperials reading, and I had just discovered the 'Emperor Text-To-Speech Device series', which was not only hilarious but rekindled my interest into the Warhammer 40,000 franchise.
Now, in the words of Ecclesiarch Decius XXIII, "please, Hold onto your Hats my friends,", because Warhammer 40,000 was a tabletop wargame and modelling hobby based on the galaxy we know today."
Sound of crying baby, "And while you're all having an existential crisis I'm going to save myself from this cyber-abomination my fellow cogboys and the bloody priests are obsessed with."
Sound of Energy weapon charging, discharging and high energy impact with a fleshy mass, leaving the hall in silence after the mass hits the floor.
"What is wrong with people these days? Seriously, killing babies and reanimating them with bionics is something you'd think was the Dark Mechanicum's purview or Chaos in general, maybe the Dark Eldar for shits and giggles... nope, it's all the Good Guys. Anyway...
Yeah, through some kind of Fourth Dimensional Warp Buggery I ended up in the 41st millenium, specifically on some industrial world called Sterling that ten thousand years ago supplied the XV Legion with everything from bog roll to Power Armour and Grav-tanks.
The local Tech Guild (a concession by the Mechanicum after the Heresy to the facts that A) there aren't enough Tech Priests to go around and B) that there never would be so some 'Normals' would have to be trained to repair and maintain technology,) was recruiting and they weren't too picky as to how iffy your background was as long as you paid your dues to the Omnissiah and performed your duties to the correct standard.
Coincidentally, they don't mind if you muck around with STC templates and 'Relic' technology as long as you don't damage it and have something to show for it later, case in point: by studying the Guild's collection of various MK IV Power Armour patterns I managed to develop an updated 'Universal' STC that could be plugged into almost any industrial fabricator and churn out both the 'Universal' pattern and the specialized Achaen and Praetor patterns. Mk IV isn't as sophisticated as Mk VII but the reworked pattern mean you can build three Mk IVs for the same resources as two Mk VIIs, several fleet based chapters have sent gifts in thanks for easing their supply problems somewhat, and no the power knife from the Bloody Magpies was not stolen, I checked and it's a pattern exclusively made for them.
Even managed to work up an STC Template for the Squats old Hearthguard suits after most of the Squat Military got munched by 'nids buying time for the Imperial Navy to evacuate as many civilians as possible. Given how the Squats own engineering guilds lost most of their tools and forges and every suit was hand crafted there wasn't a quick way to replace the equipment that got nommed. Not even a nineteenth century production line arrangement where you have stations for each individual manufacturing step in rows beside each other with the workers passing each bit to the guy across from him as they finished would work, there was too much intricacy in each step to do it by hand quickly, same problem AdMech has with Terminator suits actually. After examining about twenty suits I worked up an STC Template that was effectively a blank pattern, fully functional but unembellished so the wearer could add on ornamentations and trophies as they liked.
The High King was a little bit disappointed but gratefully accepted, presenting me with a suit of Power Armour normally given to Inquisitors, minus the Inquisitorial markings. The surviving King's Hearthguards chipped in and sent an Archeotech Pistol and Phased Plasma Fusil and Josef Bugman himself sent along an 'Everfull' tankard of his famous Ice-cold XXXXXX Ale. Score!
Later on I worked out a general theory of Gravity Manipulation (very basic compared to what recently came out of Aprior when contact was restored, primitive even, but a little more forgiving on less sophisticated/ more abused STC Fabricators) from the specs of the Land Speeder, the old Grav-Rhino (The Fabstodes actually helped me with that, the floors were slick with oil for a week afterwards and I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop though), servo skulls and various aircraft, got me on AdMech's radar when it allowed the Tech Guild to reconstruct the Grav-Rhino's STC and build prototypes for trials (which ArchMagos Cawl attended I might add).
After a minor Inquisition which only ended after they were satisfied I was making leaps of logic rather than Tech Heresy I was 'Invited' to join AdMech.
Not that I really had a choice, honestly.
Since then I have proven my worth by recreating dozens of STCs by rediscovering the underlying scientific principles, case in point Grand Cruisers are a thing again now the Interphasic Plasma Manifolds and other bits are once more understood from the physics side.
Unfortunately Cunto... Ahem, Cato Sicarius is now running around Ultramar in a new pimped out Strike Cruiser that just falls into the acceptable parameters for an Astartes ship (barely), I can only imagine Calgar's migraine.
Yes I have met Sicarius, Yes he is just as much of a self-centered, glory hog wazzok as in ITEHATTSD, no he does not sound like his trousers are too tight... at least, not just Yet.
Calgar has the patience of a Saint. I mean Sicarius nearly made the remaining Squats swear a Grudge on Ultramar the last week before I was reassigned, but someone pointed out that Ultramar has to live with the cunt and they decided that was punishment beyond what they could inflict upon the poor sods.
Now someone, probably the bastard who'd always give me the beady eye in the canteen even though he (I think it was a he) no longer needed food, decided that since I got along with Squats and Space Marines (people who by and large have a rather disagreeable relationship with AdMech) I would be best serving the Omnissiah by working with one of these groups, so I was shipped off to the one Astartes Chapter that needed cogboys but had no patience for them.
The Angry Marines.
Now, just to clarify. The Angry Marines aren't like they are portrayed in Fanon, not exactly anyway. Angry Marines aren't 'Angry All The Time' per se, but rather their brain is restructured by their Primarch's Gene-seed during the course of making an Astartes so that the pituitary gland secretes a Hormone that induces a sensation of burning Anger.
This is also why they call World Eaters wannabes, what the XII need implants for the II do naturally.
Unlike the Nails, this natural process is harmless to the Marine (mostly) as with some mental discipline and training a Marine can control their Anger and maintain a normal if profanity laced disposition, however the Anger builds as the concentration of the Hormone grows their Anger grows proportionally until their discipline gives out and they Explode With RAGE, upon said explosion the Hormone is consumed by a Neuro-chemical process the Chapter is very secretive about that increases the strength, speed and durability of an Astartes until the Hormone is consumed, scrubbing the Marine's brain clean of the Hormone and ready to start the process over.
Which is why Belligerent Engines are so Fucking Scary, they have no way to burn off the excess but the interface keeps them absolutely lucid regardless.
That said the older an Angry Marine gets, the longer they can hold back the Rage until you get people like Mofo or Maximus who not only are "Always Angry, All The Time" but are in such complete control you only know they're Angry by the near Tangible Aura of RAGE.
Said Aura is the reason for the stories about Angry Marines Exploding out of their armor, like the Hormones in the brain it can built to a point where it cannot be contained and is expelled outwards in a visible and very dangerous wave of energy.
This is why Cogboys and TechMarines hate Terminators by the way, also when this happens to Maximus we typically need a tow, a new Battle Barge or a floating dry dock (no idea why AdMech calls them Floating when in deep space.).
Then there's this one Ancient old Mindfucker that hangs around that chapel on Deck 11 that got turned into a small garden who is just zen all the time, even Maximus avoids him if he can get away with it.
With all the above said, I can safely say I now understand what a 'Sideways Promotion' is, on the one hand almost no one has a proper indoor voice, they treat vehicles and weapons as beyond disposable, the Drop Pods are suicidally depressed, very few people can shoot straight with a two handed gun (giant pistols don't count, yes someone worked up a Stub pistol that fired Autocannon rounds, no it didn't end well for them), no one's heard of either friendly fire or danger close and every time there's a recruitment stop some idiot tries to use me as a punch bag. Key word, Tries.
On the other no one really tries to stop you tinkering with Archeo or Xenos tech, or from Innovating, AdMech and Inquisition have to go through the Marines and know it and EVERYONE hates the Ultrasmurfs so you're not kept awake by the chanting..."
Sound of Bolter and Flamer discharging in nearby room.
"OK, which Wazzok is messing around in my workshop?"
.
I gripped my Power Axe in both hands and strode towards the open door of my workshop; NO ONE waltzed into my domain and fucked around. Not after I kicked Chapter Master Temperus Maximus from one end of the ship to the other after he returned from battle with the Tartarus Terminator suit I spent months fixing up for him utterly wrecked.
Truthfully, I don't remember much after my vision turned red but I'm told that not only did I kick him from one end of the ship to the other, Inspiring the creation of Power Boots in the process, but I kicked him Into a Temporal Rift and by the time we came out Power Bats were not only invented but had been around for thousands of years after I kludged one together during our trip to the past. The Chapter practically adopted me afterwards and the older Marines hold me in a mix of reverence and fear, except Maximus who holds a grudging respect and Mofo who is almost one of my best friends (really helps to have a nearly identical taste in cartoons).
In light of the above, whoever is fucking around should know better.
Should.
I enter to find one of the Senior Techmarines, Ragman I think, holding a combi-flamer wrapped in duct tape.
Oh No He DIDN'T!
"Ragman?" I spoke loudly as I lowered my axe to the floor with a clang, making the Marine jump in surprise.
"Magos Scipio?" to his credit he tried to sound unsurprised.
"What are you doing?" my tone was almost pleasant but my eyes were locked on the hideous waste of precious duct tape on the weapon.
"Well, you see, the Chapter's officers love to make use of Combi weapons, especially the Combi-Flamer, however there's been a feeling that there's not enough Dakka, so I decided to see what could be done to make it more Dakka-ery," he explained, the World Eater wannabe was not quite below shouting but low enough to not make my ears ring.
My moustache twitched (yes I have a mustache, given the way a cogboy robe's hood is desgined to put said cogboy's face in shadow it's the only way the others can judge my mood, and no it's not a Dorn-stache).
"So," I said in a dangerously calm voice, "you picked the lock on my workshop," twitch, "grabbed my duct tape," twitch, "proceeded to mummify the Combi-Flamer with it," double-twitch, "without first getting another weapon to duct tape to the Combi-Flamer," Triple-Twitch, "and annihilated one of my servitors with a weapon you wasted my duct tape on for no Emperor. DAMNED. REASON!"
My moustache was bristling and for a second I contemplated whether turning the Master of the Armory into a servitor would be overlooked, probably not.
"Out. OUT! YER NOT MESSING WITH MY DUCT TAPE AND SERVITORS WITH YOUR HARE BRAINED IDIOCY!" I marched over, relieved him of the poor, abused weapon and sent him out the door with a boot to his pelvic plate, the snap/crackle of the Power Field on my axe persuading him to move his arse.
"YOU WANT MORE DAKKA YOU'LL HAVE IT BUT KEEP OUT OF MY DOMAIN YA MARSIST BASTARD!" I bellowed after him, some laughter echoed up the corridor from various Marines before I hit the release, closing the door.
"You want more Dakka out of a bolter? You bolt two together, that's how we got Combi-bolters in the first place, Wazzock," I muttered, setting the poor weapon down on the workbench, laying my axe against the bench, then beginning the laborious of un-mummifying the thing.
As I worked I cast my mind back to the old Crusade era Combi-bolters, basically two bolters strapped into a frame with a common trigger.
As more tape came away my mind was whirling with possibilities, centering on using one of the old frames, two bolters of an appropriate pattern, then… didn't the older combi-weapons attach to the bayonet mounts?
Once I'd removed the final piece of tape, the idea had crystallized in my head, the old Tartarus Combi-bolter frame, two Tigrus-pattern bolters in it, and a pair of attached weapons using the Tigrus' bayonet mounts.
I paused for a moment, considering the attached weapons used the normal bayonet mounts and the Angry Marines near obsession with making guns melee weapons (Choppy) regardless of whether they're designed for it (Maximus' two Rotor Guns with Chainfist blades attached for example, I made the things and I don't fully understand how they work) maybe I should allow them to still fix bayonets.
Thirty seconds later the prototype has a second set of bayonet lugs, offset by 90 degrees and facing outward relative to the center of the frame, Ragman can deal with any further idiocy.
I marched over to the door and opened it, a pair of Angry Tactical Marines glanced almost nervously as they halted in front of me.
"Get that back to Ragmen in the armory and tell him I may have a solution to more Dakka-ery Combi-weapons for him," I tossed the prototype at the nearer Marine, "I want a full report on its testing and feel free to be as thorough as necessary."
The two seemed to light up in glee before I closed the door, once shut I hear a Bellowed whoop of joy and the pounding of Power Armored feet as the pair hurried off to slaughter Ragman's stock of servitors, serves the Marsist Bastard right.
...Recording Interrupted...
...Resuming...
"…Hope the Blighters wipe out Ragman's entire stock, Ruddy World Eater Wannabe.
Not particularly fond of Servitors myself, Goddamned creepy things, but even the Angry Marines draw the line at robots smaller than Kastellans running around, AI or not.
That's another thing, Legally speaking AI aren't strictly Illegal only Men of Iron, Men of Gold or Stone are perfectly legal to produce and things like starships and Land Raiders have Men of Stone running their computers, hence the Machine Spirits special rule in the space marines codex.
Whether the term Machine Spirit refers to a Stone-class AI or actual spirits is a topic of intense debate on every major Forge World and most of the minor ones.
Also, bad things happen to Neverborn who try to possess a Man of Stone's CPU, No one knows why but they vanish and the denizens of the Warp refuse to get within a certain radius when the ship enters the Warp afterward for a considerable length of time, on a side note the ride through Hell is considerable smoother when Neverborn aren't trying to break down the Gellar Field all the time.
The Men of Stone in question won't really answer about what happens but they seem have this slight smug air whenever they report a failed possession attempt.
They won't tell us who keeps summoning Neverborn to possess the mainframe either, only that the saboteur, by themselves, is not a threat. Whether that means it's a Radical Inquisitor or a particularly crafty Eldar is up for debate, given that The Dick himself came and taught MoarFistin' a few tricks as a thank you for destroying the First Born of She-Who-Thirsts, I'm leaning towards the latter.
Like that Bastard wasn't scary enough in the first place, now he knows how to Fuck up His enemies Eldar Style.
Say what you will about the Eldar and The Dick in particular, but they have Style."
…Console Alert Klaxon…
"Scipio here."
"Bridge here Magos, we have a situation up here, can you head up here to advise?"
Tired sigh, "Is none of the Senior personnel available?"
"Only Mofo responded and he's watching Cartoons. Commissar Fuklaw is on his way up though."
"Give me five minutes," comm shuts off, "I have no authority over the bloody Marines and they still ask for me to lead. At least John has some bloody authority as the Discipline Master."
Five minutes of walking and some cheezy lift muzic later…
"All right, what's the emergency?"
"Distress call from the Ultramarines Second Company…"
"You didn't acknowledge receiving it, did you?" Scipio asked quickly, it was an unwritten rule to avoid the Smurfs wherever possible.
"Not yet sir, I thought it best to see if Command wanted to receive it first," the Serf replied.
"Fleet Master playing poker again?" Scipio muttered, "give it here."
"Ultramarines Second Company, Cato Sicarius commanding, requesting assistance and immediate evacuation, almost overrun, 70% of planet lost to Ork incursion, orbital bombardment recommended…" there was more but I got the gist of it, actually this sounded almost perfect.
"Get me Mofo," sound of console activating.
"You're through…"
"SCIPIO, I TRUST YOU HAVE A GOOD REASON FOR INTERRUPTING MY REST?"
"We just picked up a distress call from the Smurfs, no we haven't acknowledged receiving it, and I thought it sounded perfect for a vacation after you mentioned how pent up the Chapter is getting yesterday, I'm sending the details down now." Console beeps as buttons are pressed.
"Now what?" the serf asked.
"We wait…"
Screech of speakers as Shipwide PA activates "VACATION MOTHERFUCKERS!"