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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:lol if you give up the purity of flesh for the embrace of the machine
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Mar 3, 2015 19:17
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That vote tally seems pretty conclusive. RIP tiny baby children.
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Mar 3, 2015 19:27
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We're freeing them from a short, futile life of crushing poverty and giving them purpose (and mechanical arms).
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Mar 3, 2015 19:31
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LowellDND posted:We have ethics, its just a pragmatic utilitarianism unburdened by empathy We are being empathetic - towards our own. They work hard and are loyal to the death, why shouldn't we take reasonable measures to protect them?
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Mar 3, 2015 20:52
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Pththya-lyi posted:We are being empathetic - towards our own. They work hard and are loyal to the death, why shouldn't we take reasonable measures to protect them? Empathy is a tool by which the weak try to make up for their own failures. Embrace Objectivism. We shall use them until they are no longer useful, then discard them.
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Mar 3, 2015 21:57
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LowellDND posted:Empathy is a tool by which the weak try to make up for their own failures. Embrace Objectivism. We shall use them until they are no longer useful, then discard them. That's actually why it makes sense for us to treat our men well. A happy employee is a productive one, but an ill-treated employee will desert his employer the instant a better offer comes along (as well he should, if he's being a good Objectivist. If a man remains loyal to a master who only abuses him, he's accepting a slave morality). Why, Atlas Shrugged gives us the example of Hank Rearden, a hero who pays his employees above the union-negotiated wage! Protecting our men in exchange for their service really is the Objectivist thing to do. 
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Mar 3, 2015 23:16
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It's okay guys, you can stop using spoiler tags.
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Mar 3, 2015 23:20
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You know, I heard European companies in China complain that employees will switch companies for a whooping raise increase of 1 cent/hour.
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Mar 3, 2015 23:20
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Beer4TheBeerGod posted:Plus, you know, feeling good Apparently, we feel pretty drat good as is.
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Mar 3, 2015 23:57
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I can't help but feel that for all the demons and toad killing and whatever pit Ohone is digging for herself it's this thread that will produce the most objectively evil CYOA protagonist. Anyway voting A If I haven't already.
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Mar 4, 2015 00:17
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Outrail posted:I can't help but feel that for all the demons and toad killing and whatever pit Ohone is digging for herself it's this thread that will produce the most objectively evil CYOA protagonist. Challenge accepted 
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Mar 4, 2015 00:52
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The most Objectivist objectively evil protagonist.
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Mar 4, 2015 00:53
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More evil than the literal despair drinking demon in the Evil Overlord thread?
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Mar 4, 2015 00:56
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Arkanomen posted:More evil than the literal despair drinking demon in the Evil Overlord thread? Even worse than him.
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Mar 4, 2015 01:05
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More evil than the Porpoise who sought to corrupt an entire town?
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Mar 4, 2015 01:07
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Prosper really is shaping up to be a Randian protagonist, isn't he? He's a glorious specimen of humanity, selfish, uncompromising, building a glorious trade empire just to prove he can.
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Mar 4, 2015 01:13
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LowellDND posted:Challenge accepted That's not a challenge!
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Mar 4, 2015 03:06
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LasLord’s Claim, Furibundus Ignis immediately goes to work, spraying a sealing foam over what’s left of your arm. You immediately return the favor on his back. The sealant wouldn’t promote long term healing or stand up to any kind of real exertion, but it kept wounds clean and preserved for more dedicated medical attention. That attention arrived quickly thanks to Cornelius and the gun cutter, and in minutes you were inside and being attended to. You permitted the medicae to stabilize the arm but refused any further treatment while your men were dying. A layman might consider this false bravado but you saw it as pragmatic acceptance; the arm was already lost and you had a battle to run. You did permit yourself a glass of amasec. Nebula Brandy, distilled from a race of grapes lost to heresy millennia ago, in a crystal pipe snifter supposedly once glanced at by the Emperor or some-such nonsense. All that matters is that the liquor was incredible, gliding across your tongue like a lover and releasing a bouquet that was positively sinful. You enjoy a moment of bliss and then turned your attention to the holo table. The medicae stood behind you, ready at a moment’s notice to come to your aid. You noticed Ignis in the corner, still holding your severed hand, barely standing. You nod at the Praetorian, speaking quietly. “Attend to that man.” The order is obeyed without hesitation. Cornelius stands next you, noting with some satisfaction both your choice of drink and decision to stay conscious. A ghostly hologram of the station floats in front of you. You see the locations of your forces, beacons representing your allies, and force estimates of the opposition. The plan was simple; the Praetorians would maintain their positions in the hub while the Augmented and Mechanicus swept through the arms and drove the enemy into your guns. You expected the worst fighting in the hab blocks where the LasLords would be defending their children, but you suspected the Mechanicus would have no trouble. Meanwhile the Augmented would tear through the commercial arms and drive the enemy to you. For the most part it worked that way. The Augmented pursued their quarry right to you and thousands were slaughtered. Your men did their best to perform incapacitating shots, but any shot to a void suit tends to be fatal. Not a single soul left the hab blocks. The ordeal lasted hours. The Augmented were ruthless, taking out years of aggression and frustration at being sniped by laser fire on anyone who dared get in their way. Later on you would read reports of the hab blocks seemingly painted in the blood of the fallen, so violent was the assault. In accordance with the contract the Mechanicus swept through and cleaned up everything, taking every microgram of organic material with them. The hab blocks were sterile before your men even entered them. In time the battle ended. Your victory was absolute, but the casualties to your Praetorians would require significant resources and time. Cornelius estimated that the salvage of the station would just barely cover the losses. You found the source of the reflec production in one of the production arms; the LasLords had found a way to make a substandard version. Sadly the machinery and knowledge to fabricate it had been lost in the rampage of the Augmented. Crispy verified that Wrath Incarnate had shut down safely and would be easily packed and relocated with the aid of the Mechanicus, and the Magos was all too willing to remove, transport, and install the achaeotech lance in exchange for a chance to study it. He was also very appreciative of the organic collection, thanking you particularly for the “gift” of so many cherubim.  All in all a resounding success. The Machina Scientia would carry you to Prosperity’s Reach and provide the fuel necessary to raise your ship. The Augmented had a new claim and favorable relations with your Dynasty. The LasLords were completely eradicated, although to your chagrin there was no evidence of Lucerna amongst the dead. And you even got an ancient relic of the Dark Age of Technology capable of cutting an asteroid in half. Well worth the price paid. The laboratory of the Magos Biologis is pristine and filled with the acrid stench of antiseptic and chymistry. You feel goosebumps prickling across your skin in response to the cold of the table you lay across. Magos Kime, Medicae Lord of the Machina Scientia and unparalleled master of cybernetics, stands over you in a visage of mechanical horror. His voice is surprisingly warm, particularly in contrast to the environment he operates in. “Very well Lord Prosper, you have delayed the inevitable long enough. When you awaken we shall be a little closer, brothers in the pursuit of a True Form, although I imagine your journey will end long before where mine even started. You chuckle and smile, then realized the Magos was probably serious. Perhaps it was fitting that the only Tech Adept you had ever found with a sense of humor was a floating skull. “Thank you, Magos Kime, for the honor of your time,” you say to cover up your faux pas. The Magos seems oblivious to your actions, instead intent on the cogitators before him. “No, Lord Prosper, the honor is all mine. That last batch of stock you aided us with was pristine, particularly those destined for the cherubim. In fact we even found few souls worthy of inducting into the Mysteries. This has been a good day for the Omnissiah.” The Magos adjusts a valve, and you feel the taste of the air you breathe through the respirator turn metallic. Your eyes grow heavy, and your head lulls to the side. In the distance you see a glowing window, an observatory of some kind, and man standing there watching you. You blink, clearing your eyes for a moment, and see a visage that sends a jolt of adrenaline down your spine. You struggle but the narcotic has already won. The last thing you see is the face of Inquisitor Lord Aestaban Gant. END CHAPTER 1
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Mar 4, 2015 03:09
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He's going to stick a homing beacon in our head, isn't he? Also Beer I have that in wish I wrote half as pretty as you in my Shadowrun game. drat man, this is great.
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Mar 4, 2015 03:26
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Maybe he'll just carve his initials in the robohand or give us an Inquisition tramp stamp or something. Cool storytelling, OP!
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Mar 4, 2015 03:37
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I'm excited to see where this goes  Also, woo! Thread title!
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Mar 4, 2015 04:14
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Brownview posted:Maybe he'll just carve his initials in the robohand or give us an Inquisition tramp stamp or something. Inquisition Tramp Stamp sounds like an awesome band name.
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Mar 4, 2015 04:16
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Beer4TheBeerGod posted:Inquisition Tramp Stamp sounds like an awesome band name. I believe they play twice a week down by torpedo tude 3. Five throne cover, two drink minimum. Ladies and throne agents get in free.
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Mar 4, 2015 04:23
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Dammit, one of the collectivist overseers who held us in bondage just to punish our Progenitor for his success has come to force us to be altruistic *shudder*. Quick, start speechifyin'!
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Mar 4, 2015 04:39
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Oh god, the Cherubim. 
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Mar 4, 2015 04:52
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He's going to rub his balls and taint all over our face as we sleep
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Mar 4, 2015 04:56
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I'm sad that I missed this thread until now, but I'm happy that I'll be able to get in on chapter two! This has been a magnificent read, thank you so much for lending us your time and talent Mr. Beer!
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Mar 4, 2015 05:00
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Green Intern posted:Oh god, the Cherubim. Cherubim are great. They really make you understand the pervading body-horror of the Imperium.
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Mar 4, 2015 18:37
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Lanky Coconut Tree posted:He's going to rub his balls and taint all over our face as we sleep This is the correct prediction. "Magos", the Inquisitor declaims. "Allow me the privacy in which to perform my work."
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Mar 4, 2015 19:11
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goatface posted:Cherubim are great. They really make you understand the pervading body-horror of the Imperium. The Orcs killing everyone and winning is maybe the best possible outcome tbh, they're a simple folk with simple wants, they just wanna krump some gits, they don't care for any of that weird stuff
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Mar 4, 2015 19:13
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I like where this is going! I hope we get Dark Eldar and Kroot crewmen before this is done.
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Mar 4, 2015 19:24
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As long as we can remain (or pretend to be) so blithely oblivious to Eldar Lore that we can insist it's a regular Eldar. No I don't know why there's screaming coming from his/her quarters. I'm sure it's just their wierd music. Xenos, amiright?
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Mar 4, 2015 19:33
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Purestrain human crew, please. None of that xenos taint. just Inquisitor taint
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Mar 4, 2015 19:47
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:Purestrain human crew, please. None of that xenos taint. We need exodite dinosaur rider shock troops
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Mar 4, 2015 20:55
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Kroot are alright. Keep 'em fed and they're good crewmen. Playing with fire if you take on pretty much any other Xenos though.
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Mar 4, 2015 21:00
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I for one hope we get an Ork Freebooter as our nemesis. It is commonly understood that Orks are the best, and Freebooterz stand proudly as the best example of all things Orky!
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Mar 5, 2015 00:55
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Easy enough: If we put enough guns on our ship, the orks will come for it.
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Mar 5, 2015 03:50
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Machina Scientia, Footfall You return to the world in the same manner that you left it, resistant and fighting change. Instead of struggling to stay awake your body strives to stay slumbering. You force your eyes open and look around. Various forms of medicae equipment surround you while a medical servitor stares at you with dumb, unthinking eyes. She is tall and thin for a human, and would have been pretty were it not for the augmetics covering her throat and torso. You wonder what crime she had committed to be given this fate, or if she was another soul condemned by virtue of fate. At least her augmetics looked like they had been installed for quite some time – it meant she wasn’t here as a result of your actions. As you find a robe and put it on you think about what would happen if that were the case. Would you care? Should you? Probably not. Magos Kime walks in, positively beaming through his one remaining organic eye. “I am pleased to see you have recovered in such an expeditious matter,” the augmented chirurgeon says in his reassuring tone. “The course of autosanguine nanites have done a remarkable job of ensuring the augmetics are integrated, and I hope you find the arm to your liking. Please, stand.” You stand up, surprised at just how good you feel. It seems as if every insult to your body has been wiped away. Even the bionic arm feels perfect. “Ceramite and nano-foamed adamantine core covered in a palladium-copper sheath. The insets are gold engravings, and the sheathing has remarkable thermal dissipation properties. I would not recommend putting your palm in the way of a lasbolt but it may provide some protection. The primary reason was aesthetic.” You nod, appreciating how the arm complements the colors of your Dynasty. The Magos turns to the medical servitor who arrives carrying a storm bolter. The double-barreled weapon is intimidatingly large, traditionally used by the elite tier of Space Marines. Kime places the weapon in the hand of your bionic arm and manipulates the augmetics in a certain fashion. You feel the weapon lock on, and discover you can hold it with a single hand. “I took the liberty of adding a mag-brace to the forearm.” You wave the gun around, taking care to avoid pointing it at anything that could object. The power of your bionics automatically compensates for the added bulk and it feels like wielding a large pistol. “Does it come with the storm bolter?” you ask with a smile. The Tech Priest shakes his head. “No, it is merely for demonstration purposes. That particular weapon is mine.” “Pity. It is a nice one. Perhaps we can work a trade in the future?” “I could always use more cherubim,” the Magos says as he secures the weapon and permits you to leave. Cornelius joins you as soon as you leave your medical bay and briefs you as you walk. The journey to your gun cutter is brief thanks to the tram that runs the length of the Machine Scientia’s spine, but is long enough to get an executive summary. In the week that you’ve been recovering the Dynasty has moved quickly to secure the remnants of the LasLord’s claim, and the majority of station was disassembled and sold for scrap. True to their word the Mechanicus swept through and took everything organic; Cornelius made sure no remains of the Praetorians would be converted into servitors and Explorator Pauld agreed to render them into nutrients instead. That particular detail was not heavily disseminated. Rast did his best to find suitable replacements for those House Troops that were lost, but his standards are exceedingly exacting and it will take time to get back into fighting shape. Wrath Incarnate was extricated and is already stowed for transport, and you found that you had enough lasguns to outfit a full Imperial Guard regiment. You decided to keep that particular cargo for future use. With the business of the Dynasty done, your focus shifted to more personal matters. No sign of Lucerna had ever been found; either she had escaped or the Mechanicus had processed her. “And the Inquisitor?” Cornelius pauses, looking up from his data slate. “I’m sorry Lord… but which Inquisitor?” “I saw Inquisitor Lord Aesteban Gant moments before Kime put me under.” Cornelius turns to the window. In the distance you notice a massive vessel eclipsing Furibundus. The silhouette looks like some kind of predatory fish, a grand image of wealth and prosperity. You had heard stories of a Dynasty that had claimed an entire space hulk as their vessel. The very idea seemed ludicrous, a gross violation of the laws of nature and physics. Yet there it floated, casting a shadow over the entirety of Footfall. Cornelius speaks. “Lord Prosper, Aesteban Gant is dead. There was an Inquisitorial Conclave during our assault on the LasLords, and Gant was murdered rather violently and publicly. The investigation is underway, and only our absence from Footfall and connections with the Mechanicus have permitted us freedom. The Machina Scientia is the last ship to leave Footfall by orders of the Imperial Navy.” How do you respond to this news? A. ”And here I thought this day couldn’t get any better.” B. ”drat, I was hoping to be the one to kill him.” C. ”That’s disappointing. You had hoped to learn more of your past from him.” D. ”This is an excellent business opportunity.” E. ”Impossible. I saw him with my own eyes!” F. Immediately inquire more about the murder. G. Something else?
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Mar 5, 2015 05:43
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D
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Mar 5, 2015 05:46
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F. How did he die? Assassin? Poison? Giant Space Mole? Inquiring minds want to know!
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Mar 5, 2015 05:55
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