Getting Warhammered - [ 190 ] (Patreon)

The arcology was swallowed up by a psychic cloud of torrentuous confusion, fear and undirected anger. Riots were happening on one of the largest squares closest to the tip of the colossal building and some morons even had the gall to throw rocks at the windows of stores and buildings.

The windows held, of course, their pitiful throws entirely unable to break their silicone-based structure. That only fanned the flames of their anger, the inability to do so much as inconvenience me by breaking my stuff.

I was inconvenienced enough as it was, though they probably didn’t expect just how much. This wasn’t the first arcology I had to haul my ass over to fix the problems in person, but it seemed to be the worst yet. This might take a few hours. 

“I’m sorry mother.” My daughter sniffed pitifully, staring at her feet as she hung her head in defeat. She was the Overseer Alpha had sent to this arcology, and she’d been overwhelmed by her failure to calm the masses in short order. “I failed you.”

“You stumbled,” I said gently, turning away from the dozen projected screens showing the various floors and buildings with the rioters depicted on them. Smiling, and without reluctance, I pulled the shorter girl into a comforting hug. “You’ve had to handle more than any of your sisters, it is not your fault. I’m here to help you get back on your feet. You’ll learn from this experience and better handle anything like it the next time it comes around, right?”

She stiffened in my hold, and I could feel shock paralysing her body. Then came the tears. The poor thing was a week old at most, in the body of a teenager and with more responsibility than most people should handle weighing down her shoulders. I was still a bit uncomfortable with the act, but I had some rather intensive exposure therapy over the last few days, and to be honest physical touch had always been something I both yearned for and used to show my care for others.It was easy for me to hug these little cuties when they were all disheartened and pitiful; I did it without thinking most of the time, only my emotionless logical mind was watching over it all with a disapproving look as it saw my emotional attachments grow minute by minute.

“Did you decide on a name yet?” I asked as I stepped away, happy to note the despair and anxiety having mostly left the girl. She marshalled herself quickly.

“N-no,” she said, looking up at me hopefully. “I only have a designation, Overseer 21. Maybe … could you perhaps … ?”

“Give you one?” I asked with a gentle smile, she nodded eagerly. This was a common request among my daughters, one I was happy to fulfill. “What do you think of … Talia? IIt’s a name associated with renewal and overcoming hardships in a long-lost ancient human culture.”

“Talia,” she said the word, tasting the feel of it on her tongue. She gave me a brilliant smile. “I like it. Thank you mother!”

“It’s nothing,” I said. “Now let’s see what I can do about your problems here. A quick status report would be appreciated, if you would?”

I already knew everything I needed to know; my aura enveloped the whole building and tasted the emotions of all one million inhabitants. I heard every word being spoken, every whisper and every mutter. Still, I was here to help Talia get her legs under herself, provide some breathing room and advice, then be on my way to prop up the bureaucracy of another stumbling arcology. 

“Apparently,” Talia started, sounding unsure as she eyed me hesitantly. “The majority of the inhabitants of this arcology are made up of the population of three major cities and some smaller towns and villages that had been near them. It seems like there had been … a significant grudge built up between all three over the years. It … didn’t go over well when I announced the previous mayor of one of those cities winning the elections with anyone not from his previous city.”

“I see,” I mused, tilting my head. “A feud left to fester and grow beyond healthy rivalry and into something far nastier. The riots had been peaceful so far, right? I did say I would have any murderers dead for the crimes.”

“Not yet,” Talia said, gaining back some confidence with every word. It was like every question of mine she successfully answered poured self-esteem into her by the bucketful. “But I don’t believe that’ll remain to be the case for long. They are getting more and more violent with every day that goes by without me or the Mayor bending to their whims.”

“So you don’t intend to make him step down?” I asked with a raised eyebrow and watched her flinch. She likely knew how I dealt with similar situations in previous arcologies. Put the winner and the runner-ups as co-rulers with the local Overseer being granted temporary veto and voting rights to make sure nothing idiotic would be passed and no one could stonewall decisions. 

“I considered it,” she said a bit defensively, then gestured for the monitors behind me. “But I didn’t think that would be in the people’s best interest. Look at the three primary candidates.”

Merilyn Mayers, a corporate magnate who’s owned a major logging and construction company in what I’m going to call City A. 

Talia had a note underneath her file describing how she suspected the woman was the primary instigator of the riots.

Nevil Cliff, a … semi-famous local actor, who’s endeared himself to the majority of his city through his work from City B. 

A figurehead, really, according to Talia’s notes and an idiot who loved the sound of his own voice and the adoration of the masses. A narcissist who said whatever he thought would get him the crowd’s support, a true two-faced populist.

Kastor Dross, the last mayor of City C, an exemplary specimen of a politician with a stellar record and well-known for knowing what his people wanted and breaking his back to give it to them. 

The only personal note from Talia wrote that she’d confirmed most of that and that she personally thought the man was the only one who wouldn’t be utterly garbage at doing the job of a mayor.

“I see,” I said. “And he won?”

Talia nodded, fluffy white head bobbing as she put on a serious look. “I’ve talked to all three of them, trying to get the situation to calm down, get them to accept the loss with grace instead of … throwing a tantrum. The woman straight up threatened to incite something of a civil war, while Nevil promised to do everything I asked. That lasted until he stepped out the door of my office.”

“It’d be a bit different if it wasn’t your favourite who won,” I said. “But I suppose this should still be doable. I take it you didn’t make use of your sisters’ ability to calm people yet?”

Talia shook her head vehemently. “I’ve … tested it. People notice it, not at first, but the moment they are out of the cloud for any length of time, they know their minds have been messed with. I didn’t want to make the situation even worse.”

“I see, think you could manage a fainter effect? Just taking the edge off of their emotions instead of dumping them into a bath of serene calmness?”

“I … maybe?” Talia shuffled in place, wringing her hands. “I didn't have much time to practise and to familiarise myself with the pheromone glands. It’s rather limited at the moment, it’s either fully ON or it isn’t at all.”

Her words might have sounded like veiled snark or a poke at me swamping her with footies the moment she was made- I mean born. Her tone and emotions were entirely bereft of blame though, even mildly apologetic that she hadn’t managed to do the impossible.

“Hopefully you’ll have more time for yourself in the future.” I nodded, patting her on the shoulder. “You’ve done well so far, Talia. Now let’s go and meet this new mayor of ours then I’ll convince our uppity ringleaders that it is in their best interest that they stop these riots.”

I might be allowing some level of self-governance to my citizens, a decently high level of it all things considered, but I was not running a democracy here. Not that it mattered in this instance, as I merely had to enforce the results of a democratic election.

On the other hand, I would have had no problems defenestrating that vile woman who instigated this mess if she won the general elections by some miracle and placing this Kastor guy in the Mayoral chair, anyway.

“Where is our new Mayor by the way?” I asked as I peeked at that Miriam woman, finding her in a heartbeat and starting to eavesdrop. 

“I had him move into the Mayor’s estate on the top floor,” Talia said, trying to be helpful. “He should be working now, trying to get his opponents to see reason and calming his own voters. He’s been at work trying to keep things from escalating.”

Rightly so. A single murder, rape or child abuse would have set off a blaring alarm in my head. I didn’t keep constant watch over every single person myself, but my mind-cores did. So long as I was on the planet, that would remain to be the case. 

“Laudable,” I muttered. “But unfortunately meaningless in the end. For some inconceivable reason, this woman thinks I and you are going to remain neutral. Did you do something to give her that impression?”

“I- … I shouldn’t have,” Talia said. “But she might have misunderstood me? I did say I was not allowed to interfere with the citizens’ internal politics and the like.”

“You know that interfering and guiding them is within your job description, right?” I raised an amused eyebrow. “Not in the fine print either.”

“They were all so jumpy and volatile,” Talia said. “I thought it best I didn’t make that fact known. I’m sorry mother. I might have implied that you forbid us from any interference.”

“Smart move,” I said. “Though maybe not in this specific instance, with these specific idiots as it only seems to have encouraged them.”

I have not the faintest idea how they can be so brazen about this. Do they truly think I’d let shit like this fly? Was that how their previous government operated? Why would they think I’d be the same? It’s been a single fucking weeks since I slaughtered a global cult on their planet and spirited them all away through space. Did they somehow forget all that?

I shook my head in an effort to clear out those useless thoughts. I’d know soon enough, since I planned on making doubly sure it was not due to Tzeentch or one of his minions messing with me for shits and giggles or a resurgent Slaaneshi influence.

I had made sure to refuse anyone I felt even mildly tainted by Chaos aboard my spaceship and the same went for any members of the clergy, or especially fervent believers. I did not need those sorts of people in my burgeoning empire to spread their ideology and faith, it’d be akin to letting rot and cancer linger when I could banish it all with a thought.

Did I miss something? Someone? Did that fucking Changeling really survive and came back for revenge? Am I walking into a trap?

Deciding to take proper precautions just in case, I went not with my avatar but sent forward a swarm of stealth bug-drones. I might have sheer psychic power on my side, but Tzeentch was not the God of Sorcery and deceit for nothing. I had little doubt one of his Heralds or other favoured minions could fool me or my senses if they tried hard enough.

So when I teleported my swarm of spy bugs over, I kept close attention on every single sensor organ I’d managed to fit into them for any suspicious fluctuations. An enemy Sorcerer might be able to fool one of those senses with Illusion spells, maybe two, three even, but I had twenty in each working on different types of signals and neural encryption. To go undetected, someone would have had to envelope all bugs in an Illusion all at once without me noticing then understand how every single alien sensory organ worked and transmitted information. Then they would have had to manually replicate it and send me a mock feedback. 

I was pretty confident nobody short of fucking Tzeentch himself manifesting in realspace would manage such a thing. Something I'd doubtlessly have felt … what with it shattering realspace and sending the whole realm into oblivion. 

I found nothing, which some may say was predictable or even a given, but I only felt my paranoia spike. I then stomped down on that feeling, not letting it run wild. There was a chance this truly was a masterfully constructed trap, but the odds were miniscule and not worth worrying over. Worrying and jumping at every twitching shadow was no good way to live.

I’ll handle it, even if it is. I meant it too, confident in handling just about anything realistic. The Emperor was not going to stand up and come over to beat me up, a Chaos God was not going to manifest here just to slap me senseless and no messed-up super alien demi-god like the Khrave king or the cacadominus was going to pop out of thin air. Stop being stupid.

I Blinked over, appearing in a conference hall down on the first floor of the arcology. My mental blueprint of the building identified it as the main conference room of a major mineral processing facility. 

The ten inhabitants of the room jumped at my sudden appearance, some cursing, others screeching. I looked around curiously, raising an amused eyebrow at the boarded-up windows and the candles placed around the room for illumination. The whole room had been stripped bare of all technology. 

Did they think that was how I kept my eyes on them? Adorable.

My eyes finally landed on the woman sitting at the head of the table, dark brown hair gathered into a prim bun, a strange robe I knew had been the dress of choice for most of the upper class in their society and a pair of frightened, yet calculating black eyes. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to meld into her chair, pushing herself into it and away from me standing atop the table.

“Who-“ someone started, but I snapped my fingers before he could finish and the man fell over, his mind shut down for the foreseeable future. I’d only been aiming for unconsciousness, but didn’t bother to dampen his fall even when I noticed his skull would hit the floor heavily, possibly cracking it open.

It ended up holding, and he’d only have a severe concussion. Lucky man. 

“I did not give you permission to speak,” I said, a smile on my face and murder in my voice. My gaze locked on the woman, Miriam, or was it Mariel? Mariel! That was it. She couldn’t move, for some inscrutable reason eye-contact made reaching into the target’s mind effortless and I made good use of that, grabbing her mind in a vice grip. “Sit. I won’t intrude for long, but there is no need for you all to stand on attention.”

When they refused to move, I frowned and let a hint of power seep into my throat and colour my voice. “I said SIT!”

They jumped to comply, gathering fallen and kicked over chairs in a frantic attempt to be the first with their butts secured on the velvety chairs. Scoffing inwardly, I ignored them, letting the aura of terror radiating off of them wash over and through me, not allowing it to stain my own emotions. Just like I practiced. 

Next, I flexed my mental claws, holding the ringleader’s mind hostage. A benevolent ruler would probably arrest them, look for evidence, question them humanely, or whatever other nonsense. I knew she was guilty; I knew she was a deceitful schemer. Her soul stank of ambition, greed and cruelty, a vile mixture I couldn’t help but feel a bit disgusted by. I knew she’d sell her own daughter’s soul to the gods of hell if it got her an edge over her competitors. 

I also finally had an answer for my previous questions, and it was downright disappointing, especially with me having expected daemonic manipulation or some other machinations. It was just greed, ignorance and just sheer idiocy. The woman at least knew what she was doing to be the gamble of her lifetime, but she was so absorbed in the goal of ruling over this arcology like a mini-queen that she’d failed to rightly weigh the odds. Or perhaps I really did seem like a pushover from the perspective of a person like her. I had little doubt she would have only had mind-shackled slaves to do her dirty work had she been in my place.

I felt no reason to be gentle to begin with, but I’d resolved to destroy her before I left this room. Not in body, because killing the main runner-up of the local elections would just fuel the chaos and ferment dissent. No, I’d destroy who she was. I did have that one blueprint I’d made to mimic the Necrons’ mind-shackle scarabs, and would you look at that? It seems like I had a volunteer for testing it. 

No need to be too cruel. I thought, realising just how miserable a fate leaving her to be with the scarab would be. No torture should last forever, even for the most depraved souls. My solution was not what others would call a mercy, not by a longshot, and I had a faint suspicion even Selene would be mildly miffed by.

I knew she’d understand and approve afterwards. I had no worries on that front. She was practical enough to see the mercy in me planting the seeds of a brain tumor in the head of my victim. The scarab would control her for a while, forcing her to slowly disband her little resistance group and act accordingly, while the tumor grew and in a few months, she’d die. I wouldn’t even have to come back to finish the job.

Clean, efficient, merciful. I liked it. 

Now I just have to make sure there isn’t any daemonic fuckery about. If there isn’t, I should be done here in an hour or two. I should probably leave behind a few drones I could drive around to visit my daughters here. Hmmm. Yeah, I think I’ll do that. 

Then I’ll have to get a move on. I still have three arcologies with some level of civil unrest in them that need fixing, though the nastiest ones should be behind me by now. Then there is that Tau fuckwit who thinks I don’t know he’s skulking about on my planet I need to deal with. 

So much to do, so little time. If only I had two of me … or maybe a thousand.