Attempt full integration. Everyone's alike enough that they should get along juuuust fine.
Launch an Inquiry, of course
Integration but only by having a human "upper class" of leaders and technical experts to manage the aspects of their society they struggle to, mitigating their disadvantages (no experienced souls, not very bright, being xenos) by providing them with human advantages (being smart, having lots of experience and potential for growth, being human).
This lightly modified integration should minimize the affront for everyone---the Cannon Fodder Zoguwn benefit from Human innovations and us helping them with advanced techs and get to reap benefits there, while Humans see that we are not treating them as equals, we've put Human overlords over them. And in the end we get a unified alien polity to tax and conscript.
With a few decades' (each decade is a generation or even TWO generations!) manipulation we could alter their society in any way we found necessary...
+1
In regards to our immediate decisions I say we ought to
Launch an inquiry
Involve Ourselves
With regards to the sentinel station I say we begin the construction of a armed variant above this world (Zog?) mainly due to the reasoning that the only reason these squids joined us is because we assured them we can protect them from greater threats in the galaxy so if our fleet wonders off and ork raiders pay this planet a visit with us not lifting a finger to defend them there goes the whole incentive for them subjugating themselves to us. We can utilize the ambassadorial psyker of ours as a astropath at the station it'll also allow him to continue his role as our primary ambassador to the Squids
I, of course, Accept my own suggestion.
As for the Station, I'd like to research the possibility of training our own Astropaths. Ask if the station could run without them?
We should proceed with researching the unarmed design.
I agree with Attempt Full Integration, primarily to offload the responsibilities of governance to the superior humans.
We expect a tithe of resources and auxiliaries. Their planet is of no further importance to us.
Their homemade rifles are sufficient enough as primary armament.
Their Heavy Equipment shall be Missile Launchers, which they should be capable of manufacturing. See if they take to Krak missiles. We can train the ones that actually serve us in Frag missile usage.
Launch an Inquiry. Unless of course my troubleshooter gets a mysterious gift, then I might change my mind.
Accept the proposal wholeheartedly!
You decide to
Launch an Inquiry into the 3rd company chaplain's request. It is rather sudden and unusual, and as Renegades, you cannot afford risks the Imperium in its inefficiency can ignore. The situation is probably nothing, but there's no reason not to involve yourself. You exit your office and make a leisurely stroll through the bridge of the 1st Battle Barge. Soon you've left it entirely and the auxiliaries salute in respect as they step out of your way. You're intent on a very specific location and you step through the corridors with a quiet, determined purpose. Ten minutes later you've reached the 3rd company's chambers and with three, massive strides, step through the barracks to the door into Euchre's personal quarters. As a seasoned heretek, even if you weren't Chapter Master with universal clearance, it would be trivial to unlock. You don't bother to knock and step in.
His room is well-kept as one would expect, save for the cards scattered over a table of parchment. Anti-Imperial hymns to the Emperor, transcribed as is his duty. The sleeping rack he rests on is made, the dust meticulously swept. His power armour, resting in the corner, diligently oiled and consecrated. Your eyes sweep over it to see him now knelt at the customary, even obligatiry, shrine to the Eternal God-Emperor. The prayer beads are in his hands, he mutters the litanies, and doesn't interrupt his prayer for your arrival until it is done. As is to be expected. He gets to his feet and turns, looking at you with tired eyes and an easy smile. The chaplain's teeth are clean, polished regularly, and none of his grooming seems out of the ordinary. He asks what he can do for you and you say to do nothing. The chaplain moves not a muscle as you rifle (a very popular word in the Sentinels) through his desk, digging into the slightest corner and poring over the smallest notes. Even for potential code you scan through the syllables, parsing the narrowest possible metaphors, and find no firm evidence of treachery. You tip over his sleeping rack to see nothing, not even dust, and finally examine the shrine from top-to-bottom. All is in its proper place.
This isn't enough to satisfy you. A deep, two hour interrogation commences wherein your every word is sharper than a monofilament blade and each sentence bristling with hidden traps of loyalty and theology. The chaplain answers them all appropriately, missing none, and at no point asks what this inspection is for or what this investigation is over. Not once was his request of a transfer of veterans mentioned. Finally, unable to find even inconclusive proof of wrongdoing, you sigh in relief and grip his neck with a servo-arm without warning. You raise the chaplain over the floor, limp, not daring to move a muscle, and speak, pistons hissing with iron will.
"EUCHRE, HEAR ME NOW. WE ARE RENEGADES TO THE IMPERIUM BUT THE PROPER CHAPTER CHANNELS ARE NOT TO BE REJECTED. YOU ARE TO GIVE ME NO MORE REASON TO RETURN. AM I UNDERSTOOD?" He nods his head, gasping.
"Y-Yes sir, Chapter Master Talnior, sir." You release him and he falls onto the floor.
"I WILL DISCUSS YOUR PROPOSITION WITH THE THIRD AND SEVENTH COMPANY CAPTAINS. BOTH ARE TO BE FULLY AWARE OF YOUR INVOLVEMENT. I WILL HEAR NO MORE OF THIS FROM YOU. AM I UNDERSTOOD?" The Fallen Astartes nods, raggedly shaking his head up and down.
"Yes sir, Chapter Master Talnior, sir." You look down and give a slight, curt nod.
"THEN MY WORK HERE IS DONE. AT EASE. I LOOK FORWARD TO SEEING YOU AT THE NEXT MEETING IN THE HULL." At that, you turn to leave and exit. In the room you've left behind, unknown to you, the chaplain resumes his prayers and an hour into them, goes silent. Tears of gratitude flow down his face and in the deepest, darkest recesses of his tainted mind whispers the most fervent of prayers, but they are not toward He on His Throne on Terra, but to something far older, and as impure before Him as the east is far from the west.
The chaplain got some very lucky rolls to counter the suspicion from the investigation, a 19 to reassure Talnior after rolling a 6 to the Chapter's 17 to realize the possibility of foul-play, but true corruption isn't something can be hidden forever.
Your investigation has you thinking there is little to blame the chaplain for but a lack of tact, but the fact that you felt motivated to launch an inquiry has left you wary, of what might linger in the Chapter that you don't yet know of, and of what might fester in the years to come. The chaplains are disciplined, firm in the faith, and unflinching in zeal. They can be trusted and yet, what of the rank-and-file? The battle brothers in their dozens, new and old alike, what if one of them should preach dissent with the best of intentions and cause a fracture in the Chapter? Or worse, a sundering, to leave The Watchtower scattered in a dozen petty bands? No, this can't be allowed. You need to reassure yourself, somehow. You'll speak to the High Master of Sanctity, perhaps, or gather the Astartes together to hold a meeting. Part of you considers the possibility of having the most trustworthy of the Prognosticators do a psychic deep dive of the Chapter to confirm, but down that road lies a dangerous path. If you can't trust your gene-brothers, can you even trust yourself?
You dwell on these thoughts as you return to your quarters and resume your work. Much of it is addressing the brilliance of Archaeus, tragically confined by a sore defecit of man and material. You inform him of as much and release a missive, with a tentative sketch of a shipyard's schematic. It's simple to the point of crudeness, barbaric even, but it should be functional enough to meet some of your needs. You don't desire to begin building voidships, not yet, but to dock those you have without need of mothballing them and delaying their reactions when they might be needed most? That is a desire you cannot afford to ignore and in a matter of hours, an auxiliary returns with a response. You haven't left your desk since, too feverishly counting bolts and outlining diagrams. The auxiliary hands you his, you dismiss him with thanks, and eagerly open it to find... in the time since sending you his letter and your 'discussion' with Euchre, he's drawn a similar schematic of his own. Archaeus... You do suppose great minds think alike. Over the next few Terran days you enter into a sprawling correspondence that involves the Master of the Forge, whose 'hide bound' tendencies led to a confession that he, himself, has been searching for appropriate STC fragments to accomplish the same. Between the two of you and the dwindling treasury, you soon sway him into accepting inspiration of the STCs and consecration in the name of the Omnissiah as sufficient. By the end of the week, the techmarines are in a giddy uproar the less-mechanically inclined members of the Chapter can't begin to comprehend. Not truly. It isn't long before you have a true schematic.
Small Crude Shipyard: A tiny and ramshackle stardock, if it can be called that, but one that can be made with minimal infrastructure and which represents a tremendous leap forward for the Chapter's naval ambitions. (This requires 100 Resources and 10 months to manufacture; doubling as a dock and forge for a single Escort-class vessel at a time, or two smaller. To manufacture additional docks, able to hold additional Escorts, will require 50 Resources and 5 months. To expand on its size to accomodate worthier vessels will need deeper research and a nearby industrial base. As is, this model is primitive enough it needs little to no external technological base to keep it orbital once established.)
It's a simple schematic, the work of a dozen hereteks and more conventional techmarines pitching in to make something new. Alone, it isn't capable of meeting your needs but... it is a start. More than that, it's a sad remainder of how deeply humanity's knowledge has decayed under the dictates of Mars. This shipyard... it and others will be a start. To that end, it's essential that you find a higher yield of resources as soon as possible, and to that end and seeing their potential, you decide to move ahead on to
Attempt Full Integration between humanity and the zahgun. You find little need to use their wretched tongue for themselves but you can see much for their work. Their technology may be of the Xenos and primitive to a degree that frustrates your analytical mind, but unlike the Imperium, they are not set in their ways and may yet change.
The, ah... Adeptus Econometrica will doubtless be escatic to ply their theories on the pliable minds of a species that endures a half-dozen lifetimes for each baseline human's cradle-to-grave. In particular, that design out of Audenach. You have little doubt the Xenos have some variation of assembly-line themselves, their circumstances leave it too necessary to forgo, but their inferior minds have likely seen a sore lack of efficiency. No matter, you won't begrudge them that their spark cannot match humanity's flame, but you'll allow their heat to fuel your industry all the same. Later, during your daily multi-target strafing practice, you dwell on the importance of this system relative to the empire and deduce that you'll leave a vessel, or a few, to oversee their advancement under your chosen emissaries while the rest of your fleet returns to Death World #14/2- Antwir, and regroups while you determine what the Chapter should do next.
Which ships and forces, Astartes and auxiliary, do you want to take and which do you want to leave behind? At bare minimum, a handful of techmarines and the Prognosticator will be amongst the Xenos for the next few months. You can also take your entire fleet but in the (unlikely, but
never impossible) event of an external raid or invasion, the absence of any defense could leave the Zoguwn doubting your intentions. (Note, it's more likely than not that a few months will pass during the fleet's transit back to the Fortress-Monastery, effectively taking several "turns" at once for the Chapter. Time-skips like these aren't going to be uncommon, a month is only the smallest unit of time measured on a strategic, Chapter-wide scale. They'll be much moreso once you've found a means of settling your Resource defecit. In the absence of orders to do otherwise, fleets that have been sent out will attempt to return to the Fortress-Monastery at Death World #14/2)
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Topic: Renegade Space Marine Simulator (40k) (Read 26767 times)