Author Notes:
This GSS chapter took me longer to get out than I would expect, mostly because my CPU was not, not ok. Still is, all things consider. Now, if you're just finding this on SH all of a sudden with no book cover yet, then it's because that is a port of Grimdark Sector, one that won't be containing any previous chapters. You will have to look for them over on Webnovel, and the link is provided in the SH-port's sypnosis.
As for the quality of this new GSS chapter... I really don't know lol. You can ping me over on my Discord server if you manage to spot the Easter Eggs or anything out of place. Remember to bring cookies~!
https://discord.gg/cVZxJ29ruh
Also also, birthday celebration! All newcomers to my Patreon will have 40% on their first subscription of any kind! Offer end on 22nd of May, so go grab it while it's hot!
https://www.patreon.com/Heartbreak117
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"Not another word, Kell..." Sighs Creed for an unknown number of times after Jarren Kell jokingly reminds him of a certain prior event.
Following Creed out of my workshop, Kell laughs.
"I don't know, brother, that look of yours will live rent-free in my head. Wished I had a Pict-Recorder with me, would have snapped a picture and immortalised it for the guys to see."
Ah, yes, that's very brotherly of them, taking any available opportunity to make fun of the other's expense. However, I struggle to see how Creed would even attempt to do that in the first place. So, it's probably Kell alone who's the mood maker in Creed's unit.
As Creed's group walks further away, though, the last thing I can hear is Kell saying.
"Hey, why don't we call him Dredd! DR-3D is way too much of a mouthful!"
My fingers stop just before I can pick up the hand-drawn schematics I made, left neatly stacked on a clean corner of my worktable. I let out a wry smile.
"Dredd, huh? Quite fitting of a name for a Droideka... Although I'm not sure how to feel if I were to see a Droideka painted with shark jaws over its olive drab paint scheme one day."
Moving past the stray thought, accompanied by a suitable cursed mental image, I sit down on a rickety chair with the blueprints now in hand. I pick up a pen from a drinking cup acting as a makeshift penholder, intending to continue translating what Fuxi, Nuwa, and I have researched into a Warhammer format.
I actually don't need to do this persay, but I need to leave a plausible paper trail for the more nosy onlookers. Call it a precautionary measure of mine.
While I am hunching over, crunching numbers, line works, and updating everything to a digital format for ease of storage, my ears catch the heavy mechanical footsteps approaching my workshop from afar. The audible pattern of steps is not dissimilar to that of a metallic spider making its way through a war-torn city. Having spent some time aboard the Iron Revenant, I have come to know that rhythm belongs to only one person, and one person only.
"Teacher Cawl." I stand up to greet the towering visage of a man who is a blend of blessed metal and Mars-red fabric.
It's actually quite impressive that Archmagos Dominus Belisarius Cawl is here, on this Installation, and actually fits in this temporary workshop of mine. The place doesn't have much real estate, since it isn't quite built to Imperium standards.
"Ein, young innovator," Comes the mechanically induced tone of the Archamagos. "Others would address me by my name, or at least by my official title, whether they meant it or not. But Teacher is a first, I reckon, and only you are confident enough to say that."
I shrug with an easy-going smile.
"It's my way of paying due respect to you. After all, officially or not, you have taken me under your wing and guided me on the path of intellect. I have learned much from you, really. And I am confident enough to say that, if I ever retire from active duty, at least I won't be without a job since I have acquired enough knowledge to live by as a mechanic."
Cawl actually plays along with my joke. Chuckling with that raspy digitalized tone of his, the Dominus says.
"Small mercy, young one. I do hope, however, that the conflicts earlier haven't dulled the keenness of your mind?"
I nod. "It doesn't affect me much, really. However, if the need arises, I will use my ration of recaf, and I'll be right as rain, Teacher."
"Your propensity for recaf is noted, Ein. Your mother considers this capability of yours as a tactical asset, whereas your comrade, Weiss, sees this as a last resort. A part of me is curious to understand why recaf affects you the way it does. But that can be a mystery to be unraveled at leisure... Tell me, what have you been working on, if not a battle-worn Droideka?" Cawl words everything in a curious tone.
For the most part, I laugh it off before looking around.
"I would actually invite you to sit first before going into a potential deep discussion, but then I realize there isn't anything here that quite fits someone of your stature, Teacher."
Unironically, Cawl actually gives the room and himself a look over before raising a hand to say.
"To be fair, I can be considered a lightweight when compared to the many others in the Mechanicus."
"I will never understand the tendency to mod yourself to be heavier than an Astartes Dreadnought when you already got something serviceable enough." I deadpan, being reminded of Tech-priests with tank treads for legs. "And speaking of mod..."
I swipe the tablet, containing raw data on most of the prosthetics I designed with the twins, from the table before handing it over to the Dominus.
Cawl accepts it with a mechanical limb. He then scans it for safety's sake before plugging the tablet into himself.
"This is..." Cawl, with his body a walking processor, takes no time at all to understand the strings of 0 and 1 that make up my little side, but important project. "Interesting. You're seeking better medical prosthetic designs, I see."
I nod before briefly going at it.
"Prosthetics for Imperial Guards are expensive. Those who are fortunate enough to be fitted with a mechanical limb may find their body incompatible with it. Chafing, scarring, rejection syndrome... There are records of Guardsmen and Guardswomen discarding their prosthetics due to them being more of a pain than they're worth. This is largely because the prosthetics have been designed primarily in the Mechanicus' vision, which features a higher degree of human machinization than that of the Imperial Guards. A direct consequence of that is a failure to understand how the prosthetics will be treated in field conditions by the boots on the ground. Soldiers won't have enough time to care for handcrafted prosthetics the same way they care for their Lasrifle. And that's where the disconnect comes in."
"And you seek to rectify that by introducing a general framework for prosthetics? From what I can see, the crafting process you suggest... While I can empathize and see the benefits of a modular and easy-to-service architecture, the way you design it seems to limit or doesn't even involve Mechanicus tenets during the construction and maintenance of these new prosthetics."
I cross my arms, pondering. "Will this be an issue, Teacher?"
"Not if this ain't a Mechanicus product and is vetted by me personally." Dominus Cawl answers easily enough.
"So, it's literally the same process we pulled with the Imperial Droideka then. Putting it under the namesake of the Imperial Guards, thus preventing Mechanicus politics from ever touching it, for the most part, at least."
Cawl nods. "The prosthetics will still require Tech-priests to make or supervise a production line, at first. But when arms factories and medical facilities are tooled up for the task, the rate of Tech-priests' involvement will be minimal, bar the necessary blessing rites. Like the Droideka, the Imperial Guards will be able to manufacture their own brand of prosthetics. That is, if you can convince the Regiments that your designs are better alternatives. For starters, since this depends less on the Mechanicus side of things, the cost is already starkly lower."
"When they see that my design emphasizes the human element more than the machine, they will surely be invested... But that's all big talk if there isn't actual data to back it up." I sigh before adding. "Which is why I will need your help, Teacher, in crafting a few sets of prosthetics for preliminary integration and trials."
"I presume these sets will go to your three injured comrades, young one?" Cawl doesn't deny my bold request.
"And for the brave soldiers who deserve another chance at fighting the good fight." I add. "There will no doubt be many valid recipients after this whole place is cleaned up. At the very least, they all should be able to get a replacement that is functionally on par with the biological part they lost. But I understand if it's an impossibility, and that it would be great enough if we manage to patch up half of the numbers."
"An admirable wish, and a realistic view of the situation, you have. I will need some time to run through the data once more and design a few prototypes. The final products will determine the feasibility of widespread adoption. These matters should take a short time at best, all thanks to you working out a base for the source code that will run these prosthetics. Which does beg the question... When did you first conjure these fine ideas?"
At the pointed question, I shrug before tapping a finger to my head.
"I always have them. Been keeping them in here and reiterating them in my free time. Only pull them out because these ideas have been fermented to maturity, and the timing seems right. If successfully implemented, it will make for a more durable Imperial Guards and a more durable Imperium as a whole."
"Very typical of you to think of the big picture, Ein. I look forward to seeing what surprise you will give me with that brilliant mind of yours." Cawl gives what I think is a compliment before adding. "Now that I think we're done chatting, I believe you will be needed for a briefing soon."
"Briefing?" I frown, worried. "Had something happened?"
"You can say that, Ein. Details are trickling in across the Vox network right now, and the others are still parsing the information. But it won't be long until your unit will be called up, I surmise."
Should I say, as expected of the Dominus? To think he's plugged into the battle net while chatting casually with me right here. Multitasking at its finest, really.
I nod before saying. "I should make myself presentable then. Thanks for the heads up, Teacher."
"Venture forth with confidence, Ein. I will formulate your designs in a manner that meets your expectations. As for the trial itself, it will be a point of discussion when all the warring has ceased on this side of the planet." Cawl says before stepping outside with my tablet, tuck it in a protected corner of his mechanical form.
The way he does it, it's like he's afraid the tablet will be lost or damaged. Goes to see that the man quite values the project, seemingly seeing the efficiency in it.
Though I highly suspect he has already made redundant copies inside his mind when he's still hooked to the tablet. That's just how Tech-priests work, really.