The Mun:
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This is an AU blog centred on Arden.
What if things had gone differently?
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The Mun:
I'm Fenic. I use They/Them pronouns.
Mainblog: @feniczoroark
Primary 40k Blog: @particularcustodian
Info:
This is an AU blog centred on Arden.
What if things had gone differently?

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The lift doors open, unveiling a vast room of glass, the walls and floor both glass, the rest of the ship above. A place used for contemplation, and planning. But a place to view stellar phenomena and planets in all their beauty. Currently with a wonderful view of Footfall, and the ships docked around it. A strange frigate being worked on nearby. More recognisable ships as well.
Ogada steps out of the lift, noting that everything feels lighter, the gravity kept on a lower setting down here. Dusk follows behind, quiet from shock, completely in awe of the view and the sights.
"...it's... I understand why this is the captain's favourite room..."
Dusk moves to get a better view of Footfall, "where are we?"
"The ship we're in, the Umbral Courser, is in a holding position off of Footfall," Ogada gestures to Footfall, "this big mass of rocks and habitats. It's not a pleasant place inside... otherwise we're in a region of space called the Koronus Expanse."
"Being down an arm is... more disorientating than I thought."
"Adept."
Cas Smithies stops, before slowly pulling the pen away from the notes he was writing, "...yes?"
"Why- I have some things to ask you. For starters, how come... your project has the mental faculties of... I'd say a teenager?"
"Oh, that. Would you like me to go over the complexities or... you do know how some skitarii, tech adepts and priests are made, right?"
"Same way as most, or crude cloning?"
"Some of us are made in vats. Vat-borne. We start off... already knowing things, capable of comparable, or better, communication in the first hour to the conventionally born at a decade."
"Like D-, I'm guessing you used a similar method?"
"Yes, my project was vat-born, it-"
"Dusk."
"What?"
"Your project goes by Dusk," Arden contemplates the use of the chair close by, instead they glare at it and knock it over with their tail, "as for my second question. Why did you make Dusk?"
"Why'd you just..." Smithies stops, then breathes deeply, "soooo... my reasoning changed over the twoish years since I started it. At first a useful model organism for testing things on, able to be used for physical and psychological tests, then my goal changed. I... am not exactly allowed to make another human, I can't vat grow someone to work for me. I used to work as part of a team, working alone raised issues, no one to spot errors, no way to split the work load-"
"So you wanted to make an assistant. One that you would always out rank."
"Ye-ah... right... you don't follow such..."
Arden nods, "given what I am it would be hypocritical of me. One other thing, what... caused Dusk's health issues?"
"Early-"
"No, no you indicated they were there before that. What caused those issues, Adept?"
Arden jolts awake. Immediately queasy. The ground swaying ten or so meters below. A handful of crew briefly looking up at them. They gently swing themself to the trunk of the tree they're only just hanging on to, once they grab it they unwind their tail from one sturdy branch, and start making their way down, once only a few meters from the ground they drop, landing surprisingly well, a quick shake before standing up, and looking around.
Still morning by the look of things, late in the morning however. And. Oh, Ogada and Dusk.
Dusk is wearing tan shorts, and a shirt of some blue fabric covered in a floral pattern, reading something. Is that a teen fiction book? Since when did we have those?
They then look towards Ogada, who appears to have fallen asleep, their back to the tree, a small pillow between the trunk and their head. Besides them two water bottles and a box of assorted snacks.
Dusk looks up, cringing away after seeing Arden, raising the book as though for protection. Afraid. This seems to wake Ogada who looks between Arden and Dusk several times, before whispering something to dusk, and gesturing for the Arden to sit by them.
Arden approaches slowly, making several attempts to sit down, stopping each attempt for some reason known only to themself. Eventually they settle for laying down and curling up in such a way that their head is resting on their body.
Dusk looks almost panicked, a quiet, shakey noise escaping, almost a bark. Ogada simply leans over, giving a moment for Arden to stop them or tell them not to, before gently scritching behind Arden's left ear, resulting in Arden closing their eyes, and it's tail to sway.
Ogada then whispers something, only part of it registers to Arden, "-friendly-"
A second voice, much shakier, not as quiet or soft spoken, Dusk's, "...but, loud, angry."
Arden opens their right eye, looking at dusk, before speaking as softly as they can, whilst still being clear, "sorry, I wasn't angry with you, I was stressed, and I shouldn't have shouted."
Dusk stares for a few minutes before moving a rather paw like hand close to Arden, but hesistating.
"You may."
Dusk places that hand, or paw, at the side of Arden's head, freezing up for a few moments before simply patting a few times and retreating.
"See, they're friendly," Ogada stops, and returns to how they were leaned against that tree, returning the slipped pillow back to behind their head.
"Big. Tall."
"I am," Arden pushes themselves up, doing a stretch as they straighten up, then get up, "how have things been?"
"Good clothes!"
"They do look nice," Arden nods, then glances at Ogada.
"I think it's safe to say that Dusk here likes ploin juice," Ogada checks a pocket chrono, "and grox paprikash."
"Who doesn't-" Arden blinks several times, "we've got paprika supplies again? I... I wasn't told. Still, sounds good. Would you like the codes to the observation deck?"
Ogada looks at Dusk, who nods, then back at Arden, "sure."
"Alright, I'll get those to you," Arden turns, already heading for the exit, "and onionless paprikash for me."

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What's the biggest fish you can fry?
I'm limited solely by pan capacity at this point.
20 meters?
"How big do fish get?"
100 meter fish. Exist.
"I am. Never. Going near anywhere with fish that big."
Generally speaking if it can swallow a tank whole you probably should avoid it
"No better way to avoid them then to not be on whatever planet those are on."
What's the biggest fish you can fry?
I'm limited solely by pan capacity at this point.
20 meters?
"How big do fish get?"
100 meter fish. Exist.
"I am. Never. Going near anywhere with fish that big."
What's the biggest fish you can fry?
I'm limited solely by pan capacity at this point.
20 meters?
"How big do fish get?"
Arden looks into their mirror. Two thirds of the upper part of their upper right arm. Still. Slowly. Growing. Back. They sigh. They reach up and rub their eyes, yawning. The lower left arm still... in... a... neutral... position...
Arden blinks several times. The position of their arms unchanging. Cautiously they move the lower left arm. The upper left arm stays where it was, close to their left eye.
They glare, make a chrrrrrr sound, and then whine, annoyed that they've only just managed this now they're down an arm.
"Have you heard?"
"What?"
"The Rook's reputation has already taken a hit," Odette chuckles, "in two days."
"Never got that reputation. I've met plenty of people like that."
"Let me guess, back in the T'au empire?"
"Yeah, s-"
Odette laughs, "how's the merc?"
"Comfortable. Still holds in the T'au'va, which is surprising. Better at maintenance than I expected. Set him up with a phonograph and some of those wax cylinders, instrumental, got a good feel for what he likes.".
"A lot of accommodations for a merc."
"Do you want the person with the mechanised armour and big guns to be bored or uncomfortable?"
"Fair point."

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(Arden is bad at human body language, and always has been, however.
This is fine to them.)
"Yes yes how can... I..." the officer of the tailors looks up, silent, looking between the two figures before him.
"...we're here to look at some fabrics..." Ogada looks to Dusk stood next to them, then back at the officer, "...already have measurements..."
The officer nods, slowly standing up, "uh, follow me..."
Ogada keeps a careful pace, following the officer, occasionally looking back to ensure Dusk is keeping up. Eventually the two stop at the wall where the officer is stood, down two bends in a corridor.
"This is where we keep samples," the officer looks nervously between the pair, "see what you like the look of and the feel of."
Ogada looks down at Dusk, "...well..?"
Dusk carefully approaches the wall, which is full of neat square holes, within each one a sample of a different fabric, different colours and patterns and textures. The creature moves around looking at each example bolt of fabric, occasionally feeling some, making a decision about each, thinking, tail wagging.
Ogada watches, a soft, almost sad smile. The officer of the tailors seems nervous, though less so than previously.
"Thisone!" Dusk's voice is almost squeaky, certainly excited. Pointing to a bolt of blue cloth with a pattern of flowers red and yellow with stems and leaves of green.
"...looks nice..." Ogada looks to the officer, and holds out a folded piece of paper, "...measurements, with instructions..."
The oficer takes the paper carefully, and nods, before unfolding it and reading it, when he gets to the bottom of the note he blanches, "o-okay."
(There's something to be said about how most view Ogada vs how they actually are.)
"Ogada?"
The curtain surrounding the Rookie's part of RCT 05 SP's quarters is moved out of the way, the Rookie themself there. Short curly hair. Eyes like fond memories. They look at Arden, briefly, within seconds their face is in the captain's chest fur, both arms wrapped around the chimeric former custodian, who puts three arms around the Rook in turn. Ogada eventually speaks after a full four minutes of silence, "...sorry..."
Arden pats them on the back with their right arm, the lower right, the upper right missing, "we were all caught off guard, and had you not acted as swiftly as you had I may have been missing more."
"...but..."
"No, no you did good," Arden peers past the curtain. The creature that Ogada took off with sleeping on one of the two beds, seemingly Ogada having brought a second bed in for it, "does... is there a name?"
"...Dusk..."
"I...I...I-..." Arden looks away, and down, the prospect of speaking making them nauseous, "I...there is... bad news... D-"
"...no, don't, don't hurt-"
"I won't. Dusk is... dying..." part of Arden wants to gag, to expel their dinner, to lay down, instead they pat Ogada on the back again, "I'msorry."
Ogada's response is simple, their grip on Arden gets tighter, and Arden can her muffled sniffling.
"They've only got a few weeks," Arden breathes in, holding it a bit too long before breathing out, "there's... something I wish to ask of you."
"...wh...wh...at..."
"Please, do what you can to make Dusk's time here as comfortable, as nice, as you can, ask me if you need anything, okay?"
"...o-...o..." failing to get out the response, Ogada nods, face still buried in Arden's fur.
Fire the cannon? Implying you only have one?
"Imagine relying on cannons.
...okay I do use bombardment cannons but that's a different niche."

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"Have you ever seen the Rook act like that before?"
Ramirez shakes his head, "never."
Odette glares into her mug of recaff, "soooo... I heard that the captain..."
"Lost an arm. Yes. Given they've survived being shot in the head twice, well, bet it'll grow back."
"It's still bad that it happened."
"It is. Worse, bastard mentioned Krawkin. You know, Feckward."
"I thought the captain killed that bastard."
"So did the captain."
"-I told them that your permission would be required, given the risks."
"They spoke with me about it, I... understand why. Given your assessment, I can't think of anyone else suitable."
"Alright. Now. Show me the arm."
Arden sighs, adjusting their shoulders before getting their left arm into the robe, afterwards it takes them three minutes of struggling to get the robe off. As usual, despite the human head and hand, everything else is chimeric creature at their previous custodial proportions. The right arm only a half foot of flesh.
"You can ask for help, you know. Where was the cut made?"
"I can't just-... right, where the... hmm..." Arden looks down at the arm, with their left hand, they mark out a point between two to three inch from the shoulder, "pretty sure the cut was made about here."
"So it's regrowing. No need for a bionic if you give it time, not that you can have bionics."
"Only having one hand is annoying."
"As if you can't have fou-... would that be three? Or would doing that regrow that arm quicker?"
"I'll let you know. I need to lay down."