Chapter One
It took some doing, but eventually the Residents shuffled into the dining room and found their seats. This was the first time in ages that everyone managed to gather, and it served as a reminder to just how diverse the population actually was. Brutish cyborgs kept company with lovely women and handsome young men. A pony, a gigantic waterbear, a furry purple foxlike creature, a rabbit, and two reptiles chatted with their human neighbors. The six-legged space weasel chose a booth near the windows and perched there to better communicate with the dragon-like monster - more accurately, Scel's head and neck, as she wouldn't fit in the dining room proper. (Iso was urged to let her be - "that's a sentient Resident, for fuck's sake!") More menacingly, FUBAR the Drone kept Opa the droid company in a corner, having taken the elevator up. And the Cultists had finally come out of the woodwork - World War II German and British soldiers lined the walls, sat upon counters and dust bins, huddled with each other atop the (dangerous!) vending machine, or simply sat cross-legged just outside the shadows. The most confusing, perhaps, where the paper Residents - the embodiment of those currently away on missions. They looked perfectly normal and would have been mistaken for the real thing had people not added 'Paper' to their names.
The brays, hoots, twitters, squeaks and whines joined in harmony with the human-generated noise in a room perfumed by coffee and the lingering scent of waffles. Someone called for air, and Ocho cracked the dining room windows wider to let in the spring breeze.
For the newest Residents, it was a bit of sensory overload. Their neighbors made an effort to welcome them - providing them with too many names to remember, and too many stories that, without context, seemed too fantastical to believe. One thing was apparent: it didn't matter what the new Residents wore or where they came from, or even what they did. They were part of the community now.
A hush blanketed the assembled Residents as Neste and company filed into the room. Thaddeus raised a hairless brow as he took in their attire. Never in the history of the Building had a force presented so sharp an image. The uniforms alone made the cultists' threadbare attire seem like rags.
Black trim outlined stiff dress uniforms of grey, gold, and silver. The cracked windows provided the appropriate breeze - perhaps sent by Demens himself - to add a little flutter to the long coats that accompanied stiff boots and starched collars. Self-assurance radiated from the people in them, but none so much as the lizard in the lead. Hers was a commanding presence that whispered all the qualities one would find in a veteran officer. It was this elusive quality that drew Thaddeus' eye to Neste and, as was her intent, captivated his attention. It took him a moment to realize that Klaus and Minerva flanked her and Septimus followed in-tow, themselves in the same uniforms and with Minerva's fiery locks pulled into a tidy bun. The faint smile gracing the latter's face put his mind at ease.
"Good afternoon." The black-clad lizard's white scales sharply contrasted with her uniform as she stepped behind the table. Her companions joined her at the front of the room and took their seats, but Neste and Septimus remained standing. The pale lizard took center-stage in front of the table, the Building’s representative flanking to her left, and she began, "As most of you are aware from our excursion at the island, Demens expects us to up the game. We intend to do so. Septimus, if you please?"
The cyborg dutifully nodded, pulling off a grey uniform cap from his head and setting it on the table before pulling a small sphere from his pocket. He set it atop the same table and a thin beam projected from it, moving images dancing across the wall behind them.
"Our history has not been without challenges," Neste continued as the projection of a wave of Drones crashed through a city now long gone. "We have faced machine empires. We have faced raptor invasions. And we have faced the forces of Cthulhu. Each time, we rose to the challenge. Each time, we had our asses handed to us because we were not a cohesive unit. Yes, we won, but it came at great personal sacrifice. We can not afford to be lone wolves anymore. If we are to achieve Demens' objectives, we must unite. We are all chosen.
His Chosen. Banded together, we are a force to be reckoned with."
The image shifted to reveal a larger version of the insignia gracing the chests of those at the front table. "As Demens Chosen, we have a roll to fill. I propose to do that by organizing us into an effective, a clandestine paramilitary organization. Our role is to procure the necessary supplies and personnel needed for the God War. We are covert, ladies and gentlebeings, until such time as we are called to fight for the greater Cause. Demens himself has blessed this idea."
Realizing there were several in the room unaware of the current situation regarding said war, Neste added, "If you have newly arrived, I will be available afterwards to explain what the God War is."
Murmurs rose from amongst the residents, many excited and even more of them nervous and fretful about what their position would be in this war. Many had grown up in the shadows of bloody conflict, and the same thoughts gripped them behind focused eyes. All would be expected to give some; would some be expected to give all?
The strings of light projecting from the sphere froze and revealed new images - crisp breakdowns of each team member’s profiles - their strengths, weaknesses, skills, and so forth. For now, only Neste and her accompanying cadre were in the system, but that would change after this meeting was over.
“As you know, I am Overseer Trilb, Commander of the Demens Chosen Operational Branch,” Neste gestured at the projection as it paused on the slide with her information displayed, “My prior military assignments include a brief stint as Aufseher for the joint-forces Convocation-Chaos Panzerdivision during the Drone Invasion. Prior to that, I was attached to Enneagonon 437-1, a division of the Convocation Classis overseen by the GNC Hereward Proelium through an appointed Tenth Iteration Tier Magister Utriusque Militiae. I operated at that level, which is a roundabout way of saying I led a division that controlled the solar interstellar neighborhood within a nebula, serving in the Earth-equivalent rank of vice admiral."
Sensing that perhaps some of the Residents would be intimidated - not unduly so, for her resume was quite a beast, Septimus added, “To put it bluntly, Commander Trilb is a brilliant mind and an equally-brilliant soldier. With your cooperation, she will ensure that this war ends favorably and with few casualties.”
Adjusting his collar, he added, “That being said, the Overseer will not be the only officer managing this undertaking. Working with her will be some of the finest operatives the Multiverse can bring to bear.”
Neste’s profile scrolled to reveal Septimus’ own, and he stepped forward to introduce himself.
“I will continue acting as the official representative for the Building and will be facilitating diplomatic interactions with any factions we meet,” Septimus explained, rubbing his hands together, “I will also be training a cadre of diplomats to act as liaisons with any factions we decide to establish permanent relations with.”
"Thank you, Colonel Itum,” Commander Trilb nodded, and his profile profile scrolled to reveal Minerva’s, and the crisply-dressed woman rose and stepped forward to be introduced.
"Commander Blackwater has long held the fort here. An experienced leader and someone that I would trust explicitly, I see no reason to change her assignment." Neste stepped back to yield the floor.
Minerva bowed her head in acknowledgment of the compliment, and then took in the Residents assembled before her. How many battles they'd fought together! Fresh faces peered back at her, curious as to what was going on. These new Residents sat beside veterans, slowly integrating into the group. They brought Minerva hope.
"I'm rather familiar to some of you. I'm an unknown variable to the rest," Minerva's warm contralto and crisp British accent aligned with her tall stature and authoritative demeanor. Here was a woman accustomed to battle. Only her eyes betrayed her gentler side. These rested upon each Resident in turn to convey her respect of them. "I have served you since my arrival here, often in the shadows. As the Overseer has stated, that role will not change. I intend to continue to function as the Building's Administrative officer. My role is to see to your safety and well-being, but also to continue to provide us with the support we need in order to do our jobs."
She paused to observe the new Residents' reactions. There was a lot for them to absorb, especially as many were not used to a modern command structure. "We have become more organized recently, to better function for the benefit of Demens. There are two branches in Demens Chosen: Operational and Administrative. I am the Commander of the Administrative Branch. I've newly appointed officers serving as my staff. This will allow you to network with the departments you feel you are best suited to serve in. I'll introduce them quickly so we can get on with the briefing."
Some of the staff were scattered throughout the dining room - obvious due to their uniforms - but most were seating at the front table. She acknowledged each in turn, giving them a moment to lift a hand in greeting or else nod before she moved on to the next. They needn't say much. Each projected slide summed up their credentials nicely.
"Our Chief Medical Officer is Major Anais Adarah. She will handle hospital management on the fifth floor, supplies for missions, and the vetting combat medics.Those of you with medical training, or who are interested in learning first aid skills should seek her out after the meeting."
Nodding, the Eurasian woman stood up. Her customary outfit of shells, bones and chitin were gone, donning a new uniform with very few ornate attachments that were necessary rather than accounting for personal tastes. She looked to the audience before her and spoke in an even, but pleasant, tone, “Some of you know me as leader of the Guild, here, and many more I’ve yet met. But the health and wellbeing extend beyond my own group and I highly encourage anyone with medical experience or interest to see me after the meeting. We will discuss our goals and expectations then. Thank you.”
Minerva didn’t doubt that more a few Residents would knock on Anais’ door. She moved on to the next name on the list. "Sturmbannfuhrer Heinrich Volker - Volker, you're out of uniform! Go visit Will when we're done - Major Volker will continue as our Admin and Personnel Officer. See him at the Front Desk if you're feeling lost or have nothing to do."
The Front Desk Cultist clicked his heels together but remained mum. A quick glance at Klaus confirmed that the new uniform would indeed keep his inner daemon - and old Flesh Hound by the name of Bachstelze - contained as well as his old uniform did.
"Major William Bailey will continue on as our Supply and Logistics Officer," Minerva continued. "Lieutenant Alexia Conrath will handle medical supplies, and Lieutenant Mathias Strand is tasked to manage magic ingredients. You should visit them if you need something. And they may ask you to gather things for our teams."
The three uniformed officers - cultist, Guildie and naturopath - nodded in turn; there would be time to mingle later.
"Sergeant Major Gunther Gunther will continue to oversee the armory,” Minerva added. “I believe he's out gathering ammunition at the moment. Hydroponics and Gardens will be overseen by Major Dexter Usseio. He, too, is out on a mission. Seeds from the Wold, if you must know."
She turned to acknowledge two men standing off to the side. It took Thaddeus a moment to overcome his shock at seeing the head of his religious order outfitted in one of the black uniforms. Though it conformed well to his body and allowed the tech priest's augmentations free movement, old Adrastus still looked cumbersome and, well, perpetually huge.
"Lieutenant Colonel Cosmos Archimedes Adrastus," she met the old cyborg's stare as his extensive bio illuminated the wall behind her, "one of the best mechanics in the multiverse. He'll continue as our Chief Engineer for the Building." Her gaze slipped onto the scarred man standing next to him. "Lieutenant Temir Talgat will serve as his counterpart at the Boilerplate headquarters." His own bio spoke of a strange religion, a machine cult not unlike that which Marcus and Thaddeus were devoted to. Alongside said description laid an impressive list of skills, mostly related to maintenance and repair, though a few combat disciplines rounded out the mix.
"We've divided our motor pool in the same fashion," Minerva continued before either could speak. "Master Sergeant Maximilian Grey for Boilerplate, and Master Sergeant Mia Grey for Building."
Thaddeus' eyes briefly studied their slides. Both seemed prior military personnel though the organization was unfamiliar to him. Though it was a bit rude, he raised his hand to flag Minerva's attention. "Boilerplate?"
Minerva's briefing was concluded so she yielded the floor to Neste.
"Boilerplate,
Major Usseio," Neste came forward once more. "The Boilerplate facility is located deep within the Outermark, here on Gallimaufry. It houses mission equipment as well as a teleportation point for the Floating Void Gatehouse. You can't even begin to imagine the red tape Colonel Itum and I had to wade through before Dweezle would approve it. But this brings us to the Operational Branch."
Having outlined all the people the Residents could approach to contribute their part for the Effort, Neste folded her hands in front of her. "Let's open the floor to questions about the Administrative side. I'll kindly ask everyone to bear in mind that we have more to go. If you plan on participating in military missions, we'll get to that in a moment. If you have questions about where you personally fit in, if interested in working a department here at the Building, please see one of these staffers or Minerva later. She will also explain the rank system to those confused by it."
Collab credit: my fantastic CoOPs (Tilt, Min and Swith) and our favorite revolutionary, Agy.