I cant stand it when people compare Yakuza and Shenmue. These games have NOTHING in common.
Just because they're both episodic, dialogue heavy, open world action games with strong JRPG elements built around a beat-em-up combat system that adapts classic fighting game mechanics while still allowing full 3D movement (which is spiced up with cinematic QTE events), set in immersive, realist, hyper-detailed small scale re-creations of modern Japan, with a special focus on building interiors like bars, restaurants, and other businesses that highlight the period specific minutiae of day to day life in the Kanto region, with no freely usable vehicles and a limited fast travel system (and any drivable vehicles only accessible in mini-games or sequences tied into the main story) so that the hero moves at a semi-realistic pace by either walking everywhere or taking public or semi-public transportation, also featuring an unheard of number of minigames that allow the hero to take time off for recreation with things like billiards, bird racing, slot machines, darts, gambling, a combat arena, and a realistic arcade full of classic Yu Suzuki cabinets like Hang-On, Out Run, Space Harrier, and After Burner, but also featuring many work simulation minigames where the hero performs menial labor (and these minigames tend to be tangentially related to the main plot), and the titles themselves star an orphan male protagonist (who is himself symbolic of an ancient mythological creature) who is distinctively dressed (with art of a powerful creature on his back), and is quiet, powerful, kind and introspective but still a bit emotionally stunted and detached, likely due to a combination of unaddressed PTSD, isolation, and lack of a maternal parent figure (which is often illustrated by having multiple women overtly flirting with him while the hero barely registers that its happening, so much so that it's a mystery to the player whether the hero is uninterested, too busy thinking about something else, or simply clueless when it comes romantic matters, but the player can understand the hero's preoccupation because the story starts off with the death of the hero's patriarch), and also the hero is investigating a murder, and the investigation of that murder will lead him further and further into the criminal underworld, where he'll re-encounter a secret Chinese criminal organization who had previously defeated him, and in retaliation to the hero's interference with their affairs that organization will kidnap whichever female character the hero is closest to, and also the hero's relationship to his primary paternal figure will be explored through his conflict with that secret Chinese criminal organization's quiet, mysterious, long haired, vengence driven leader (who wears distinctive, traditional Chinese clothing), and that leader (who rose to power in the 80s) will become a recurring series antagonist and reminder of the hero's fallability, but its not all bad since along the way the hero will meet a wide cast of characters both friend and foe, all while taking on a number of different unlikely senseis' instruction to expand on and incorporate into his own personal style of martial arts, that doesn't mean that they're AT ALL comparable.
Do you think people compare them so often because they're both made by Sega?

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A Great Herd Main Battle Tank Type XIX. IXTB-38A8r4. One hundred fifty tons of armor, molecular circuitry, guns, and hoverfans. Designed 638 thousand years ago and never having needed a single upgrade. A 180mm main gun that fires an eight pound plasma shell. Two rows of 80mm vertical launch systems capable of delivering a variety of variable fuzed munitions. A driver's, tank commander's, communication's officer's, and an electronic warfare officer's external 18mm quad barreled plasma machinegun that could be controlled inside or manually by partially exiting the appropriate hatch. Capable of reaching a top speed of nearly forty miles an hour. The crew can survive inside the compartment for up to 11 hours without discomfort. Single layer medium grade battlescreens often used on light frigate naval vessels. Waterproof, soundproof, able to be piloted and operated even in vacuum thanks to sixteen antigravity pods, although at a much slower speed and slower response.
The mighty armored fist of the Unified Military Council, in support of the Unified Civilized Council.
According to my trainers, the last time a single tank had been damaged to the point that it could not fight, excluding operator error or sabotage, was nearly 23 thousand years prior to my introduction to my first tank.
I was excited as I inprocessed. I was to be assigned to one of the most modern tank designs around, military war machine made manifest. Perfection achieved and domination assured. I was almost eager the day I was allowed to enter the motorpool and taken to where the tank I would be a crew member of was parked.
It was love at first sight.
My fellow crewbeings thought I was a bit insane, to be honest. I worked on my tank, learning everything about it that I could from the neo-sapient mechanics. The driver was happy I could start it up for maintenance, meaning he could continue on with his long running alcohol related binge.
Within a month I could tear apart my gunner's sight, even the firing mechanism, and rebuild it from spare parts found in the motor pool supply shed. I even knew workarounds and field repairs that existed only in esoteric manuals and passed down in whispers between mechanics.
I earned my "gunner's bite" at my first live-fire range, where I learned that it was best if I let my helmet push back a little instead of pushing it against the padded sight. Pushing my face against the padding, using only my forward eyes, concentrating on putting each shot right where I wanted it.
Everyone took notice when I scored a perfect 1,200 points.
Some were happy for me, considered what I'd done proof of the Great Herd's might.
Others were jealous, starting whisper campaigns that I had somehow rigged my software to give me an illegal edge during live fire gunnery practice.
My fellow gunners led the campaign to have my accomplishment gone over with a fine toothed comb, many of them accusing me, to my face, of cheating.
My gunner's station was pulled apart, each block of circuitry examined, each byte of firmware and software gone over, even the gearing examined closely to see if I had somehow pulled off the shroud at the base of the barrel and adjusted the microgears that did the minute changes to barrel angle and elevation.
In the end, my score would have been stricken from the record, since my gunner's sight had gotten early maintenance, the neo-sapient maintenance crew replacing it twenty years before necessary. I would have been sent to do manual labor as punishment, or perhaps worse.
There was even talk of a court martial to put me in my place.
Mil-Sec officers had arrived in our motor pool to place me under arrest when the sirens began to wail. Everyone looked around confused, even the Mil-Sec officers, at the tone of the siren.
It came over my implant at the same time as everyone's else, my lockout being lifted.
ATTACK IMMINENT -- PRECURSOR VESSELS IN SYSTEM IN FORCE
My platoon Most High began rearing up and down, screaming at all of us to get into ranks for inspection. The platoon Second Most High began galloping in circles, shrieking that we were all going to die.
He was wrong.
Only most of us were going to die.
--Excerpt From: We Were the Lanaktallan of the Atomic Hooves, a Memoir.
"I hate landing into an ongoing fight," General No'Drak said, staring at the various holotanks. He had been in the same place for six hours, watching everything take place. The counter-attack, the first in the five days since Confederate forces had arrived, was moving in fits and jerks.
"It's a mess out there," General Moffeta said, watching a map of the megacontinent where her air support assets were spread around widely.
"Are you concerned, Most High?" Grand Most High Ge'ermo'o asked.
"Always when even a single one of my men are engaged in combat," No'Drak admitted, tapping a cigarette against the railing he was leaning against. "There are a million ways this can all go sideways on us."
"Sir, signal from Space Force!" came the cry from below.
"Throw it up here," General No'Drak snapped, bringing up a secure holo-port.
The twinkling cone resolved into a tired looking Rigellian female with admiral's pips on the brow of her armored vac-suit. She had bags under her eyes from stress and her eyes were bloodshot. Static kept rippling across the hologram and General No'Drak knew it was from phased wave plasma motion guns and C+ cannons firing.
"General No'Drak here, can you hear me, Admiral?" the Treana'ad said, slowly and distinctly.
She spoke for a second, obviously to someone outside of view, then looked forward. "Admiral HawGawk here, General," the rippling went over the hologram and she waited a second. "We've got a status change out here."
"Go for sitrep," No'Drak said.
Ge'ermo'o watched interestedly. He had seen how his fellow Lanaktallan reacted to a changing situation obviously getting worse and was curious as to how the lemurs would react.
"Eighty plus point sources just came in at the Hellspace limit. The stellar stabilizers and the Hellspace interdiction craft from the Crusade of Wrath helped. We have eighty plus Harvester Class, including what look like mostly new classes, out near the far gas giant," the Admiral said.
"I repeat back, Eighty plus Harvesters at the far gas giant, primarily Type-III," No'Drak said.
The Admiral nodded. "At least three hundred are coming straight at you. I've detached two Battlecruiser Groups to defend the planet, but the heavy hitters have to stop those Harvesters from spamming ancillary vehicles and swarming you under," she said. The lights around her flashed and she rocked slightly to the side. "We were right not to break up into hunter killer groups to go after the last of them, looks like the initial wave was simply to pull us out of position."
No'Drak nodded. "So, whatever gets through, we're on our own," he said gravely.
Ge'ermo'o felt a little bit of fear at that.
"Sorry, General. Space Force has its hands full up here," she said. "We've already sent out a distress beacon. The Crusade ships have sent out a call for reinforcements, but with the Case Omaha on TerraSol, options are limited for them."
"Understood. Have you tactical forward what they can. Good luck, Admiral, and Fight the Ship," No'Drak said.
"Pound the Ground, General," the Admiral said, and then she was gone.
No'Drak tapped the cigarette a few times against his bladearms and Ge'ermo'o could smell the scent of freshly cut grain. The Treana'ad stared at the holotanks down below as he slowly put the cigarette into his mouth and brought out the lighter.
Ge'ermo'o was slowly learning Confederate map symbols, he could see how the soldiers of V Corps were spread all over the planet, fighting the landing Precursors and their forces.
General No'Drak unfolded his lighter with a snap of his fingers, spinning the striker in the same motion and bringing up a yellow flame. He slowly lit the cigarette, staring down. He puffed on it for a moment and exhaled the smoke around his footpads as he put the lighter away.
"The Precursors have adjusted their tactics," he said softly. "Never count on the enemy staying stupid."
"How many of the next wave do you think will reach the planet?" Ge'ermo'o asked. In his opinion, the planet was lost and there was nothing anyone could do about it. But if the lemurs were willing to fight, he would stand right here next to them.
He'd come to like them.
"Just a little over a third. Sixty or so units," No'Drak said. He brought up the map. "We got lucky they didn't catch us out of position. We knew there were still Googly-Eyes in the Oort Cloud, which meant either they were going to come back in again or we'd missed something."
"Harvester-Twenty-Nine is breaking up," Someone called out from the floor below. "Harvester Thirty-Eight has dropped out of formation, looks like someone got a piece of his engines."
No'Drak nodded.
The icons for the lighter units, the Dreadnoughts and below, were burning brightly. Space Force was concentrating most of their firepower on the massive Harvester Class units that had been forced to drop out further from the gravity well of the stellar mass burning brightly at the center of the system.
The Treana'ad officer knew that every kill counted with the big Harvesters. They'd sit out there and keep producing lesser units until the sun burned out if given the chance.
He had ordered the BOLO units to switched targets, ordering them to engage the incoming planetary assault units, leaving the already planet-side units to the ground forces.
It was a calculated risk, and General No'Drak was an excellent mathematician.
General Moffeta's units were hitting the Precursors as soon as they made atmosphere, pushing through the leading wave of fire to attack the Precursors during the short time their battlescreens were down. The interference from entering the atmosphere was scrambling the Precursor's sensors, putting their point defense offline. That let General Moffeta's units take long strafing runs at the massive machines.
No'Drak winced when one of the incoming Jotuns broke up at 15,000 meters up, the huge chunks tumbling to the ground.
The planet was taking a pounding.
General No'Drak made a motion, bringing up the communications section. The PFC who answered was a Terran had oversized eyes and whiskers.
"Is the hypercom still functional?" he asked before she could speak.
"Yes, sir," she said.
"Contact the Telkan system. Tell them we're going to need a full elven court here," No'Drak said. He sighed. "Tell them we're going to have massive Precursor wreckage as well as..." he paused, took a deep drag and exhaled it.
Ge'ermo'o noticed that it was pushing back the smell of freshly cut grain.
"We're going atom smasher. We've got over two billion civilians in shelters. Put out a request for evac ships, even on the junker channels," he said.
"Yes, sir," the female Terran said. Ge'ermo'o wondered why her eyes were so big. If they helped with her job, if her parents had possessed big eyes in their DNA, or if she just had liked them.
No'Drak cut the link and looked at the surrounding officers. "I'd give my mandibles to have Tik-Tak here."
That got chuckles.
No'Drak knew that the elven queens could repair the damage he was about to order his troops to commit to.
But if his men couldn't get it under control, couldn't smash the Precursor threat, there wouldn't be a planet to fix. He could see that the Precursors had arrived to strip mine the planet, probably down to gravel.
Part of him wondered why they wanted the planet so bad. The asteroid belts had been mined to nothing over the last twenty thousand years. Most of the easily accessible minerals were gone.
Then he remembered that elements of Third Armor were engaged with mining machines.
He looked at the icons for the Treana'ad Infantry Hordes and Air Mobile Clouds and a small part of him wished he was a Lieutenant again, charging across the ground in armor with his heavy weapons on the top of his abdomen.
After a moment he made a decision.
"Order all personnel on planet into armor and to draw weapons from the armory," he said. He turned to the two Lanaktallan. "Gentlebeings, I'd advise you to prepare yourselves."
"You think we will be attacked here?" Ge'ermo'o asked.
"Can't discount it at this time," No'Drak said. "The reinforcements were a high probability and it looks like our cards weren't as good as we hoped."
"Surely you won't be defeated," Ge'ermo'o said. "You won't withdraw!"
No'Drak shook his head. "No. There's too many people in shelters, too many people in hiding. We'll fight to the last."
"The Confederacy doesn't leave civilians behind to die," General Pulgrak said. He stretched, his shoulders popping. "Glad I qualified on my armor and weapons two months ago."
General Vandu licked her lips, looking around, her eyes moving back and forth. "Are we staying here?"
General No'Drak put away his cigarette. "Yes. We will still coordinate the battle, but we must be ready to join the ever put upon lower enlisted and junior officers should the Precursors assault our command and control area."
General Vandu nodded, her lips twitching in a smile. "Just standard body armor, or can we..." she started to ask.
"Put on power armor?" No'Drak asked. He gave the equivalent of a shrug. "There are several companies of power armor troops here to defend this base, you know that. If you wish to lead them from the front, you have my blessing."
General Vandu hurried off.
"She will see if the taste of combat is as sweet as the fantasy of combat awards," No'Drak said softly. He turned to his aide. "Let's suit up."
The Colonel nodded. "This way to the armory, General."
A Terran captain next to Ge'ermo'o touched his lower right elbow. When Ge'ermo'o looked at him, he noted how grave the Terran looked.
"If you Lanaktallan gentlemen will follow me, we should have time to fab and fit you with armor."
Ge'ermo'o was proud of himself for how calm he knew he looked as he nodded.
----------------
Trucker dropped down into his tank, slamming the hatch shut over him.
He'd waited till almost the last second. The tank shuddered as the lead of the debris wave hit his tank. The wave was thick dust, formerly ferrocrete and asphalt, all ripped up by the massive Precursor combat machine going nose first into the suburbs beyond the city and scraping the bedrock for nearly eight miles before it had lost momentum and slammed down into the channel it had carved.
"Can't see shit, sir," his driver said.
"Tell all units to hold position, give the air a minute to clear," Trucker ordered. He heard his radioman passing the orders and looked at his sensor tech. "How many?"
"I saw four entering atmosphere before that big monster hit," he said. "Maybe more. The sky's on fire."
"331, how's it look in there?" Trucker asked.
--rough shape-- the Mantid Engineer Team Leader admitted. --try not to let them hit you--
"We're a tank. We're a little obvious," Trucker chuckled. He tapped his software and tossed a meme at the Mantid team of his tank, with great big googly eyes, trying to hide behind a tree, with meters of hull and an eye on each side of the tree. The caption "I R HIDYN!" at the bottom.
That got back giggling emojis.
"All Regimental Commanders, check in," Trucker said. He scooped out his dip and slung it into the can. He repacked it while he waited for his commo tech to get in touch with the different regiments.
"Trucker wants a sit-rep," Colonel Dremsal heard faintly over the roar of his quad-barrel.
"TELL HIM I'M BUSY!" Dremsal yelled back. As soon as they'd moved in between the two massive Precursors their air support had come out to play.
The sky above him was a whirling gnashing death snarl, with 19th Air Cavalry Regiment fighting six times their numbers with seemingly infinite reinforcements. So far they'd only lost three strikers, but each casualty counted.
"Told him you were still alive and we've still got tanks even if we're rolling coal," his commo tech said. He put his hand to his ear. "Most High A'armo'o wants to talk to you."
"Put him through," Dremsal said. He let go of the quad-barrel and ducked back into the tank, pulling the hatch shut. The last thing he wanted is some Precursor machine getting past the battlescreens, reaching down into the tank, and snatching his head off.
"Dremsal here, go ahead," he said.
"We're coming up on your rear. We've got 15th Sustainment inside our ranks. We had to drop back from the river, large machines were making landfall," A'armo'o said.
Dremsal closed his eyes, bringing up how his vehicles were arranged. He gave the orders and shot A'armo'o his plan.
"You keep 15th covered, we'll drop back to get refit," Dremsal said.
"What, may I ask, is our target?" A'armo'o asked. He glanced back at the half dozen Telkan Marines on the back deck of his tank. A quick glance showed his second in command had several Terrans on the back and it looked like they were doing something important.
"Juggernaut. It looks like it almost broke up, but if they get the auto-factories running we'll be in a lot of trouble if we let it just sit there without busting up its plans," Dremsal said. "We'll knock out the supply lines, get close, and open fire on it."
"What about the Great Gobbler back there?" A'armo'o asked.
"He can watch from behind us. He won't be able to catch up to us," Dremsal said. "We'll keep ahead of it close enough to keep its attention, keep it from diving, but we won't let it get close."
"I understand. Your warplan is loaded, my men are moving up," A'armo'o said.
The tanks of the Great Herd slowed for a moment as the Terran tanks widened the wedge they were in, giving room for A'armo'o to bring his brigade up tight to the formation and slot into the middle. Once the manuever was finished, the Lanaktallan tanks formed another layer of protection for the lightly armored and lightly shielded (for Terran vehicles) vehicles of 15th Sustainment.
A'armo'o looked through his laser designator ranger at the big vehicle behind him that his men were still 'teasing' with random shots. He frowned and dialed up the magnification.
Was that... people on top of it?
-------------------
Vuxten stared down at the grinders below him, kneeling down on the ten foot thick protective housing right above them. He stared right into a massive glowing eye that looked back.
"Howdy, sailor," he heard a female's voice over the radio. "Buy a girl a drink?"
Vuxten chuckled. "We thought you were dead," he said honestly.
"I'm stuck. I came up from under me, I got caught on the cables and conveyors, then sucked into the grinder," Glory said. She wiggled her fingers. "I'm OK, probably scuffed up real bad, but I'm definitely stuck."
The gears tried to reverse, jammed, then tried to pull the massive skull and shoulder in.
"My feet and shins are outside the grinders, but they're hung up on my hips and shoulder," Glory said.
"Gonna have some greenies check it out, see if we can help you out," Vuxten said.
--hopefully no fall whirr blarg dead-- 471 said.
"Can you move your arms?" Plunex asked.
Glory shifted slightly and the grinders howled, showering sparks everywhere. "Nope. My arms are at bad positions, I've got no leverage."
"Lemme look," Casey said. He grabbed onto the edge of the housing and swung down.
"Wait..." Plunex said.
Casey dropped down, landing agilely on Glory's face.
"Aw man, first date and you try to do me right in the face?" Glory laughed.
"Don't kinkshame me," Casey said, moving slowly and carefully. Vuxten could see his feet had the bluish purple of active graviton generators around them.
"Really? Graviton? Wow," Glory said. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to have you walk on my face with grav-stickied boots?"
"Don't kinkshame me," Casey said again, his voice slightly distant.
"Kinkshaming is my kink," Glory laughed. The grinders whined, clattered, and bucked. "Ow, it's starting to pinch."
"Enough leverage and pressure and they'll bend the warsteel," Casey knelt down, looking at the gears.
"What do you see, Sergeant?" Sergeant Addox asked.
"Drive shaft is exposed on two of them. Look about three to four meters of endosteel," he said.
"What..." Plunex started.
"Shh," Vuxten said, watching the Terran. "Listen and learn."
"Looks like she shattered one of the grinders and when it tried to bring up a new one it hung up on her shoulder armor," Casey said.
To Vuxten it just looked like a whirring nightmare of massive toothed screws. He started tracing the lines, looking at them. A small window in the upper right of his vision showed 471 was zooming in on sections.
--stress points here here here here-- 471 said, tossing the red dots. --bearing housing covers here here here here--
"Casey, my greenie's ID'd a bunch of stress points and stuff," Vuxten said.
"Pass it to me," Casey said.
"What if it sucks you inside?" Vuxten asked Glory.
"My arm's at a bad angle. It might rip it off," she answered. "Beyond that, I'll probably be inside a massive area where ore and rock are pulverized and I'd like to avoid that."
Vuxten remembered the First Telkan War. "How's your coolant?"
"Good. All my lobes are intact," she answered.
"All right. We can get her out," Casey said. He jumped up and grabbed the lip of the top of the housing and pulled himself up with the hiss of loading frame hydraulics. Vuxten noticed his eyes weren't amber any longer. "I'll mark the areas, in order. Those armor defeating missiles you Telkan's use should do the trick."
"Sergeant Canton, I need ten men," Plunex sent out. "All with rocket launchers."
"Roger that, sir," the section sergeant radioed back.
"We're going to free your right arm first. Once we do that, I want you to pull it out, brace yourself, and we're going to blow the driveshaft on the one on your left shoulder, then the one pressing against your chest," Casey said.
"With missiles?" Glory asked.
"Your warsteel hull could take a direct hit from them. They're forged up for Precursor armor," Vuxten said.
"Units on top of Precursor mega-structure mining vessel, fire green star cluster flare if friendly," came a voice across the command channel. It was staticy and full of pops and clicks.
"I read you," Vuxten said. He ordered the round in his grenade launcher to reconfigure to the right munition, aimed it straight up, and chugged out three, slightly spread apart.
"We validate three green star clusters. Mark with single red," the voice said. "No voice commo, IU say again, we are not receiving you."
Vuxten fired a single red flare into the sky. "This is first platoon, HHC, First Telkan Marine Division," he said.
"We read one single red flare. Signal with red white red star cluster flares. I say again, red, white, red star clusters, when in need of assistance," the voice continued. "One green flare if under operation."
Vuxten fired another green.
"We read green. Will designate spotter to overwatch. Pop orange smoke or two green star cluster if in need of assistance at later time," the voice said. "Dremsal out."
"Telkan out," Vuxten said.
Dremsal looked back at the massive vehicle. He could see the Telkan Marines plainly, and they were involved with something on the massive vehicle's port side, but the huge scoop wheels blocked whatever it was they were looking at.
"Can we even hurt that thing?" He asked. "Without killing them?"
His gunner shook his head. "Negative, sir. That thing's shields could match a BOLO."
Dremsal frowned.
Where the hell had it come from?
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CONTEXT

• This thread will only cover feats from the television show, because that was all that was requested and seven seasons was already a challenge in itself.
• This thread will mainly cover feats pertaining to the Fourth Doctor's era with minimal references to other eras, meaning it'll only cover his versions of the TARDIS and sonic screwdriver and only the first two incarnations of K9 since they were the ones to travel with him.
• Limitations are denoted in italics.
• Due to temporal fluctuations some of the clips might be a tad out-of-sync.

Respect the Doctor

"You may be a doctor, but I'm the Doctor. The definite article, you might say..."

The Doctor is a Time Lord, a member of an ancient and highly-advanced civilization from the planet Gallifrey. Long ago the Doctor violated the Time Lord's Doctrine of Non-Interference when he departed Gallifrey in a stolen Type 40 time capsule to explore all of time and space, usually alongside a companion. Where adventure resides, so did adversity; forcing the Doctor to step in and save the day through the power of intellect. Like all Time Lords, the Doctor has the ability to survive fatal injuries by changing every cell in his body, transforming it with a brand new physical appearance and personality.
In his fourth incarnation, the Doctor left his position as scientific advisor of U.N.I.T. to fully enjoy the freedom denied to his previous incarnation when the Time Lords exiled him to Earth. This incarnation was a fearless and flippant bohemian who greeted both friends and foes alike with his oddball humor and cheek, even when faced with mortal danger.

Source Key

Hover over a feat to view its source.

• Doctor Who (1963) season # episode # = S#E#
• The Day of the Doctor = 50th

Intelligence

Technological Aptitude
Understanding Technology

• Helps a crew of spacemen use their technology to drive away an anti-matter monster.
• Discovers that Sutekh is building a rocket from a machine part.
• Identifies machinery from a 51st century refinery and even advises the men working there on how to use them more efficiently.
• Educates a scientist on using his own temporal manipulation device.
• Warns a scientist of the various faults of his own machine.
• Quickly teaches two men to successfully pilot a Terradonian Starliner.

Using/Operating Technology

• Cancels the countdown to a missile launch.
• Remote controls a cybermat and uses it to kill a Cyberman by stuffing its innards with gold dust.
• Triggers the self-destruction sequence of a Zygon spaceship.
• Programmed a supercomputer, but inadvertently left traces of his personality in its databank.
• Tampers with a torture device to kill the man operating it.
• Pilots a flying car.
• Uses a hologram projector to fake his death and expose Xanxia as a hologram.
• Manages to separate two spaceships that were fused together while being attacked by a monster that damaged the work he did mid-way into it.
• Uses a Continuous Event Transmuter (CET) to capture a pair of drug smugglers.
• Operates the Nimon's transport device without K9's aid, even though one mishap could potentially destroy the world.
• Uses an intelligence transfer machine to partially restore a man's mental faculties.
• Uses another Time Lord's TARDIS to build a bridge to his TARDIS.
• Launches a millennia-old scout ship and directs it towards a specific point to slay the Great Vampire.
• Uploads the information necessary to advance a city on a millennia-old computer.
• Tinkers with a damaged robot to extract information from it.
• The Doctor, to his own admission, can't control the TARDIS half the time which isn't surprising given he doesn't follow the manual.

Building Technology

• Claims he could build a time bridge, but would need to cannibalize the TARDIS in order to do it.
• Advises a group of miners on how to build anti-robot bombs.
• Uses parts from a destroyed robot to craft a device that would deactivate any robot within a certain radius.
• Constructs a Hyperspace transportation gun.
• Crafts a helmet to override Skagra's mental control.
• Crafts a device to summon his TARDIS in a rather short amount of time.

Modifying Technology

• Reprograms his android duplicate to attack Styggron.
• Erases his personality imprint from Xoanon.
• Converts a Lighthouse into a carbon oscillator to take out a Rutan mothership.
• Rigs a scanner to implode in itself.
• Modifies Andred's helmet to protect his mind from being read.
• Alters the Captain's controls to allow him to operate his shrunken planets from the TARDIS.
• Modifies an explosive so that it can be remote activated by the sonic screwdriver.
• Upgrades Skagra's spaceship so that it could materialize through space and time like the TARDIS.

Repairing Technology

• Fixes a radio inside a house that is currently under attack.
• Repairs a disrupter gun.
• Treats K9 for corrosion damage.
• Fixes Garron's communicator.
• Fixes Prince Reynart's android duplicate in time for his coronation.
• Fixes the TARDIS console after he screwed it up from prior modifications.
• Brings K9 back to full condition alongside Romana after he was damaged by seawater.

Disabling Technology

• Sabotages the Collector's security alarm.
• Deactivates the force field protecting Gallifrey.
• Cancels the properties of an inertia neutralizer to take out the guards on it.
• Tinkers with the controls of a hyperspace prison ship to keep the Megara from pursuing him for a few thousand years.
• Prevents a rocket from firing then stops the computer itself from firing another rocket.
• Disables a Movellan by removing her power pack.

Deduction

• Determines that a turret only attacks organic matter.
• Discovers that a "plague" is actually the work of a deliberate sabotage.
• Solves the Riddle of the Osirans.
• Sniffs out Sarah's android duplicate from her clothing.
• Discovers the connection between the Mandragora Helix and 15th century San Martino.
• Deduces that Sarah was under hypnotic control.
• Calculates the exact time the Brotherhood of Demnos will launch their attack.
• Thanks to Leela, the Doctor discovers a hole in Xoanon's barrier.
• Deduces that Litefoot had been attacked by a midget who entered through a laundry basket.
• Works out the password to Barusa's room.
• Discovers a secret passage way from the symbols present in the room.
• Deduces that Kroll had the fifth segment to the Key to Time and that it was the reason it grew so large.
• Instantly realizes K9 is under the Shadow's control from how he addresses him.
• Sees through the Black Guardian's deception.
• Quickly works out Scaroth's plan.
• Exposes Adrasta's dastardly plot.
• Deduces that Zargo, Carmilla and Aukon were members of the space crew on Hydrax through principles of consonant shifting.

Observation

• Measures the weight of an object that squashed a dandelion.
• Identifies the functionality of a turret after observing it through binoculars.
• Guesses the age of a space station by examining the technology present.
• Performs an autopsy on the Wirrn Queen.
• Roughly measures how much time they have before a space station collides into a planet by observing the speed the station is moving in space.
• Identifies holes left in a chunk of rubble as teeth marks.
• Quickly understands and solves an Osiran puzzle.
• Determines the century and geographical region from a water jug.
• Recognizes the gesture used by the Sevateem as the same one used by Starfall Seven spacemen.
• Diagnoses a man with robophobia from his body language.
• Aids a Victorian pathology examination on a corpse.
• Determines that a man was killed by electrocution and that it was the act of an intelligent being.
• Estimates the weight of whatever caused large indentations on the ground.
• Figures out Princess Strella is an android after hearing a faulty circuit spark.
• Correctly deduces that they landed on the third moon of Delta Magna by measuring its gravity without tools.
• Realizes Princess Astra is under the Shadow's control.

Medical

• Hypothesizes that an alien venom can be extracted by dispersing the patient's molecules via a transmat beam and is proven correct when he does so successfully to Sarah Jane Smith.
• Uses a bio-analyzer to cure Leela from Janis thorn poison.
• His clone redirects the Doctor's antibodies from attacking Leela's clone by manipulating his nerves to make them believe his liver was in trouble.
• Uses Leela's blood to synthesize a cure to the Nucleus virus.
• Claims he should be able to unscramble the brains of Skagra's victims.
• With the assistance of some local kids, he cures Romana after she was poisoned by an Alzarian spider.

Persuasion, Manipulation & Trickery

• Uses reverse psychology to motivate Sarah to push through an unpleasant situation.
• Infiltrates a base manned by robot duplicates by posing as his own robot duplicate.
• Talks Sarah out of Hieronymous' hypnosis.
• Tricks the Brotherhood of Demnos into killing themselves by posing as their leader.
• Lulls a suicidal man to keep him from jumping to his death.
• Orchestrates an elaborate plot to defeat the Vardans.
• Convinces the Captain to release him.
• Tricks the people interrogating him and Romana into summoning their rescue.
• Gains the trust of a feared but misunderstood gelatinous blob despite a language barrier.
• This actually works...
• Convinces an AI to release his companions from captivity, but it quickly backfires.
• Impersonates an alien that's taken his form.
• Fails to prove his innocence in court, but manages to sew enough suspicion in his interrogators' minds to get an alien criminal convicted.

Improvisation & Resourcefulness

• Uses the bandages of an Osiran service robot to disguise himself as one.
• Thinks of using cables from the floor of a space ship to electrocute an android which Sarah accomplishes.
• Kills Solon by flooding his room with cyanide gas, concocted in his own laboratory and delivered through a ventilation shaft.
• Uses the shattered glass of a lantern to cut through rope.
• Uses steam from a boiler to weaken a barrier of alien weeds.
• Avoids arrest from the Time Lords by creating a decoy using his clothes and a hookah.
• Crafts a trip wire grenade from his pursuer's own belongings.
• Crafts a blowpipe and darts using materials from a jungle.
• Uses a mirror to reflect a laser back at the machine.
• Escapes from deadly robots by dressing one up as himself.
• Makes a robot kill its own master by using helium to change his voice, thus making it unrecognizable to the robot.
• Crafts a gas bomb from some bed sheets and a gas pipe.
• Destroys the Nucleus and its swarm by rigging a refueling tank to explode.
• Accesses the Key to Time's power with only 5/6 pieces by using a foreign object with the same shape as the missing piece to fill its slot.
• Teaches himself to rock climb while stuck in a pit, using his own scarf as a tether.
• Subdues a group of Marshmen by making them spray each other with oxygen canisters, since they cannot adapt quickly enough to oxygen in high concentrations.

Miscellaneous

• Concocts a virus that eats through metal to destroy a giant robot.
• Opens a door using tribophysics.
• Answers instantly when asked how many seconds are in a month.
• Can speak all manner of Chinese dialects.
• His clone knows how to navigate his own brain.
• Recognizes a chemical from a future civilization.
• Identifies a planet by its galactic coordinates.
• Calculates mixed decimals just to show off.
• Beats an ultra-logical robot in rock paper scissors to prove the disadvantages of a purely logical approach.
• Speed-reads an entire book in a single flip-through.
• Writes up mathematical calculations so complex it causes a being to faint from merely looking at them.
• Comes up with a way to break a time loop.
• Taught the Alzarian Adric to understand Earth numerals.
• Was not the best student at the Time Lord Academy.

Skill

Combat

• Subdues Harry with some jump rope.
• Stalls the Sontaran Field Major Styre in close combat long enough for Harry to sabotage his space pod.
• Disarms a Kaled military officer by whipping his gun out of his hand and into Harry's.
• Sneak attacks a gunman.
• Disarms Sarah's android duplicate with his hat.
• Disarms his android duplicate and briefly engages it in combat.
• Disarms and stuns an armed mercenary.
• Trips over his executioner with his scarf.
• Fights off multiple 15th century swordsmen.
• Knocks out Sarah and a guard with what appears to be a nerve strike.
• Fights Chinese criminals with Leela's help.
• Bests the "best swordsman in Tara" in a duel with electric swords.
• Positions himself so that two robot knights strike each other.

Marksmanship & Accuracy

• Hits the bullseye of a dart board three times in a row.
• Shoots a rope with a crossbow at the right moment, attributing his skill to William Tell.
• Kills a giant rat with an elephant gun.
• Disables a machine by throwing an axe at it.
• Fatally shoots a Fendahleen with a rifle loaded with rock salt.

Miscellaneous

• Changes clothes in quick succession when picking out an outfit.
• Ties himself to Sarah in a convincing but escapable knot, taught to him by Harry Houdini.
• Steals a horse and rides it until he's cornered and ambushed.
• Has a flair for stage magic.
• Switches an explosive with a precious mineral, then does it again when somebody attempts to pull the same trick on him with a stone.
• Uses a hairpin to break into an alien spaceship that the sonic screwdriver couldn't open.
• Tricks an ogri into running off a cliff with a bullfighting technique.
• Can play the flute with a reed.
• Can project his voice at a pitch high enough to shatter a window.
• Steals a woman's bracelet while collapsing due to temporal instabilities.

Physical Attributes

Time Lord Biology

• Has two hearts.
• Can cheat death by regeneration into a new body, but this is limited to only 12 regenerations.
• Has a much longer life span than humans and survives after being rapidly aged 500 years.
• His respiratory bypass system allows him to survive strangulation, keep his voice unchanged by helium and resist the effects of a gas long enough to redirect it.
• Has a high resistance to extreme temperatures, allowing him to withstand the cold of Antartica and Kastria, or endure the heat inside a cooling duct or a furnace.
• Can be incapacitated out by knockout gas and drugged wine (though the latter takes slightly longer for him to succumb to its effects than the humans around him).

Strength

• Karate chops a brick in half, but fails to do the same again after his post-regeneration rush wore off.
• Knocks two Kaled guards out by slamming their heads together.
• Rips a stalagmite from a cave ceiling and uses it to pry open a giant clam.
• Knocks a man out with a punch.
• Carries Morbius on his back.
• Flips over a cultist.
• Closes a thick steel door.
• Crosses a log while carrying the Eldrad on his shoulders (who is heavier than she looks).
• Flips over a Tesh trying to restrain him.
• Manages to resist being pulled away by Kroll long enough to extract the Key segment from it.
• Slows down a support beam falling on him.
• Partially collapses a blockage of debris by dislodging a concrete piece from it.
• Throws a boulder and forces away a scaffold embedded in other boulders.
• Knocks out two guards with a headbutt while placed in stocks.
• Knocks out three Trakens at once by bashing their heads together.
• Lifts a piece of rubble off the Master with Tegan's help.
• Has been overpowered by a Cyberman and an android.

Speed & Agility

• Dodges gunfire from Kaled officers.
• Momentarily outruns a Skarasen aka the Loch Ness Monster.
• Dodges gunfire from multiple androids.
• Reacts to the sound of pistol fire.
• Avoids pistol fire at point-blank range.
• Avoids automatic gunfire on a rooftop.
• Dodges an energy blast from a Kastrian ring.
• Ducks under a disrupter blast from behind.
• Pulls Leela away from an electrified wall before it could zap her.
• Dodges lasers from a dragon statue.
• Ducks under energy blasts from behind.
• Moves away before a Dalek can shoot him.
• Avoids laser projectiles at close range.

Durability & Endurance

• Is okay after having a machine blow up in his face.
• Gets caught in a rock fall and quickly regains consciousness.
• Endures electrocution when he uses his own body to close a circuit.
• Tanks a fall from a two storey building.
• Is unaffected by a powerful flash of light that temporarily blinded Sarah.
• Drops down a skylight and kicks ass.
• Gets KO'd by a boulder to the head, but gets up shortly after with no serious injury.
• Has only a few scraps after being near a quarry explosion.
• Is only KO'd by a laser that could kill multiple humans in a single blast.
• Survives a gang attack of Mandrels that tore up his clothes.
• Falls through the space-time vortex and comes out unscathed.
• Can be stunned by various energy weapons.
• Dies when he falls from a radio telescope.

Senses

• His hair curls when it's about to rain or when he's onto something.
• Identifies a drug by smelling it.
• Determines a man died from scorpion venom by smelling him.
• Determines the age of a bone with a sniff.
• Confirms the authenticity of tritium crystals by tasting and listening to them.
• Can pick up screams so faint they can only be detected by low frequency wavelengths.

Other

• Stands still on a landmine without triggering it long enough for Harry to stabilize it.

Mental Abilities

Telepathy

• Senses Morbius' mind before losing consciousness. This was a mind so strong that the Sisterhood of Karn could not detect it.
• Enters a "mind-bending" contest with Morbius. However, the fight proves almost fatal for the Doctor while Morbius is reduced to an animalistic state.
• His brain contains a reflex link that allows him to connect his mind with other Time Lords. However, he apparently lost this ability when the Time Lords kicked him out.
• Psychically communicates with the Mentiads to telekinetically move a spanner.

Hypnosis

• Saves himself and Sarah from suffocation using a technique that allows them to go without oxygen by entering a trance.
• Reverts Sarah's mind to its prior state under the Eldrad's control in order to extract information from her, then releases her from that control when he gets nothing.
• Releases Leela from Xaonon's mind control.
• Uses a fob watch to hypnotize Jago to get information from him and restore the memories he was made to forget by another hypnotist.
• Puts a guard (and inadvertently Leela) to sleep.
• Hypnotizes the Time Lady Rodan to assist K9 in building a De-mat gun.
• Cannot hypnotize those with "narrow little eyes".

Mental Resistance & Willpower

• Puts his brain through a potentially-lethal procedure to gather information.
• Enters the Matrix — a virtual reality supercomputer — in search of the Master at the risk of his own life where he is able to survive the various hazards there. Engin believed this was due to a greater amount of artron energy in his mind.
• A telepathic human fails to read his mind.
• Fights the Nucleus' control over him.
• Resists the Fendahl's psychic ability to immobilize its prey.
• Shields his mind from the Vardans' telepathy, though with much strain.
• Is susceptible to telepathic attacks from the likes of the Eldrad and the Mentiads, as well as the hypnotic powers of Sukhteh and Aukon the Vampire.

Other

• He and his companions are able to understand the local language of where/whenever they travel due to the "Time Lord's gift" (which we later learn is the TARDIS' translation circuit that the Doctor is psychically-connected to). However, he was unable to understand a Tythonian and a Foamasi without a translation device.
• Time Lords are able to recognize other Time Lords regardless of what incarnation they're in, though it takes the Doctor a little while to remember an old school friend.
• As a time traveler, his mind is unaffected by temporal anomalies such as time distortions and time loops.

Miscellaneous

• Could have completely destroyed the Daleks at their conception and prevent their spread of terror and destruction... but decided not to.
• Due to a technological mishap, his image became associated with a devil-like entity to a tribe of primitive humans.
• Claims the Droge of Gabrielides had once offered a whole star system for his head.
• Was appointed the Lord President of the High Council of Time Lords, but abandoned his position to continue traveling.
• Alleges that he explained gravity to Sir Isaac Newton.
• "Vandalized" original copies of the Mona Lisa before they were even painted, one of which ended up being the genuine article in the end.
• His face is so iconic it was assumed once more by a future incarnation.

"It's the end... but the moment has been prepared for."

First | Previous | Next
​
I nervously approached the ruined terminal I’d just smashed. Looking inside I found various tubes and wires bent and broken. I’d clearly done a number on whatever this thing was. There weren’t any writings or symbols of any kind I could find. Whatever that pulse of energy was, I doubted I was going to find any answers from this thing.
Another door swooshed open and in walked two of those noodlers. I noticed these two were much larger than the ones that had been attacking me before. I know I’d just been fighting for my life earlier, but at this moment I felt like the kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“I uh… I didn’t mean to! I… don’t know what happened.” I began muttering to them, as if they’d understand me, stepping away from the mess I’d created.
They completely ignored me, rushing to the device. They started tearing parts out with those noodles of theirs and putting them into other boxes in the room. Then pulling the parts back out, clearly repaired somehow. It seemed they were busy attempting to fix whatever I’d done. They were making a gurgling noise the whole time as they worked.
I looked over at the door they’d come through, but it had already shut. I was unsure of what to do. Should I try to bust through the door? Should I attack them? Should I wait for them to finish and hope these two are more amenable to me than their peers? I knew I needed the things alive if I wanted them to open the doors. Maybe I could persuade or intimidate one of them. It had to be easier than just waiting for one to randomly walk through any door I wanted to get through and jumping them.
It took them almost half an hour to repair the damage I’d done. When the final piece was in place, that white light began blinking again - noticeably more rapid than it had been before. I guess this alarmed the two noodlers because their noodles started whipping around much more erratically than they had while they were working. They started touching their noodles together and that gurgling noise they were making got more intense.
“Hey! Assholes! You done yet?!” I shouted.
They both ceased their erratic noodling, clearly aware of my presence now, though they didn’t turn to face me… or… actually, I’m not sure which way the face is on these things. Either way, I clearly had their attention and they hadn’t yet attacked me. I held my left rod up in an imposing manner and pointed at the far door with my right.
“Alright! You’re going to let me out of here… or… or I’m going to kick the shit out of you! You understand me?”
I’m not sure they did understand me, as they just continued standing there, noodles waving around. Granted, not as wildly as before.
I walked to the door they’d come through and tapped it with my rod a few times. “This door! Right here! You’re going to let me out of here now! Understand!” I demanded, flourishing the rod in my off-hand in a very intimidating manner. At least, I told myself it was an intimidating manner.
I think they got the picture at that point because they both started walking toward the door. I stepped to the side with my weapons drawn, ready to attack if they did anything stupid, but they didn’t attack. They opened the door and walked through. The other room looked like a straight corridor with another wall on the opposite end. They both stood, in line with each other, near the far wall. I went ahead and walked in after them.
Immediately after walking into the room I almost face-planted as I jumped forward three or four feet. What the hell? After I regained my footing I bounced a bit in the air. I went way higher than I thought I would. I felt like I was jumping on a trampoline. I just felt lighter all around. My amusement was cut short as I heard a hissing sound and began to have trouble breathing.
These bastards are sucking the air out of the room! They tricked me! I leaped for the door we’d just entered. I started bashing it with my fists as I was sucking in what little air I could. In my panicked state, I summoned the strength to bash a hole into the top of the door, bending it out of place and revealing the room I’d just left. I felt wind hitting my face. I started gasping for air, like someone that’d just breached the surface of the ocean.
I noticed those things had grabbed me as I beat my way through the door, but by this point, they’d let me go. I turned to face them. Were they panicking now? Their noodles were flipping around like when they saw that light beeping.
“You assholes tricked me!” I yelled, leveling my clubs in their direction.
The door they were standing in front of swooshed open and they looked like they were pulled in as they scurried off. I was almost picked off my feet, but the air pressure leveled quickly. I could still hear the air whistling in from behind me. I quickly realized the rooms ahead of me were already depressurized. That was certainly going to make further exploration difficult. I’d either have to turn back and explore in a more habitable environment or I’d have to bring the air with me.
It was hard to walk in here. I was hopping more than walking at this point. The next room looked similar to the other rooms I’d been through since leaving the corridors, except there were two round alcoves in either corner opposite the door I’d just come through. I saw one of the two noodlers slip into the alcove on the left. As soon as it was through, the alcove started to rotate, closing the passage behind it. Hopping my way further into the room the alcove twisted open again, empty now. It was a bit hard to breathe on this side of the room, the air obviously not filling all the way yet.
I made my way to one of the box machines and had a sit. I could hear humming coming from inside and felt a slight vibration. I leaned back against the wall and sighed. What a mess I’ve found myself in. I felt my stomach as it began to rumble. How long has it been since I’ve eaten? My stomach was still sticky. I’d kill for a bath right now. Or maybe a cheeseburger. Oh! Maybe a cheeseburger and a bath. Yeah, that would be nice. I’m so exhausted. The fear and adrenaline had taken a toll on me. The soothing hum and gentle vibrations of my perch weren’t helping matters either. If I wasn’t careful I might just slip into one of my mid-day naps… Couldn’t have that… not with monsters roaming the place… need to get up, need to… keep fighting.
I opened my eyes to the sound of a loud crashing noise. Oh no… I did not just fall asleep. Claire! How could you be so careless! I looked around and everything seemed the same as I’d left it. I heard the loud crashing noise again. It was coming from back the way I came, in the direction of the room with the green light. I reached down for my weapons and felt nothing. Looking around I discovered my weapons were missing! What the hell! Did… did those things take my rods but just leave me here sleeping? I guess I should just count myself lucky they didn’t take me too.
Another crash. It sounded like a fight! I hopped off my seat and hop-jumped my way to the door, which was still open. I reached the hole I’d made in the far door and peeked through.
There was definitely a fight taking place! The walls were covered in blue slime, but also splashed in green. Inside the room were at least four of the smaller noodlers, but there was something else in there with them. Two long snake looking things. But like, massive - way bigger than any snake I’d ever heard off. They had some kind of suit on, brown mostly, with markings near the head. Their heads were covered by a semi-transparent bubble, like a goldfish bowl. They had three little arms near their heads and they were holding something that looked a lot like a gun - though not one I recognized.
The noodlers were wrapping their arms around one of the creatures and it started to screech - I could just barely hear it from the door. The other snake thing was having more luck. I saw it point its gun thing at one of the noodlers and I heard that loud crash sound again. I couldn’t see what came out of the weapon, but several of the noodler’s arms looked like they’d been crushed and whipped around so fast they smacked the ground next to it. Blue goo started seeping from it.
I watched in horror as three of the noodlers worked together, pulling the snake in different directions until it split in two. Green liquid sprayed out from either end of it. The snake that was still standing let out a screech as if he was the one that was ripped apart before blasting another of the noodlers. It was putting up a hell of a fight, but with how easily the first one snapped, I doubted it would last much longer. It was being cornered. It had slithered up onto the podium and continued blasting at the noodlers as they tried to grab hold of it. That gun of theirs was definitely hurting the creatures, but they were still outnumbered at this point.
I had to make a decision. I didn’t know what this thing was, but it needed help. Maybe the enemy of my enemy and all that? I grabbed hold of the hole in the door and started yanking down.
“Hold on! I’m coming!” I yelled out as the door started to creak and grind. I gripped the top of the doorway with one hand, trying to give myself some more leverage, and pushed my arms apart with all my strength. I heard a loud POP and the door slid down.
The snake thing looked in my direction and momentarily seemed stunned until one of those tentacles grabbed hold of one of its little arms and yanked it right out of its socket. He let off another screech and shot at the one that had injured it, sending it scuttling backward a few feet.
I didn’t have a plan of action, I just charged. As soon as I stepped into the room I felt heavy again and almost stumbled before regaining my footing. I tucked my shoulder down and rammed the first noodler I met. I managed to lift it completely off the ground and smash it down in front of me. Its body crumpled and it stopped moving. I turned to the other two still standing. They both shot several tentacles toward me. I managed to beat one of them away, but at least five more managed to wrap around me. They started squeezing and pulling, but I wasn’t moving. With my free hand I secured the limb wrapped around my left wrist, it compressed in my hand like a soda can. I yanked it hard, hoping to pull the creature closer to me, but I must have yanked too hard because the whole tentacle popped right off the creature and fell limp to the ground. Blue slime squirted everywhere.
I felt the tentacles release me, from both the creatures, as they made a run for the door - back in the direction of those sleeping rods.
“Oh no you don’t!” I yelled. I took off in a run after them.
I caught the first one easy enough, grabbing its thick torso and flipping it on its side. I laid into it with a series of unrestrained slams. I didn’t exactly have a technique here, I was just trying to do some damage. It went limp at about the same time I saw the other step back into the doorway, sleeping-stick in hand, pointed right at me. I grabbed the end of the stick and pushed it up in the air away from my face as I heard another loud crash and saw the creature’s midsection cave in as it fell over. I looked behind me to see the last remaining snake guy holding his gun up over my shoulder.
I couldn’t quite tell through its helmet, but it looked like it was panting. The place where its arm had been ripped off was covered in some kind of foam that was quickly hardening. Looking back into the room, it was a massacre. I hadn’t noticed before, but there were at least five more of those big snake things dead - ripped apart - scattered about, as well as a couple of the noodlers.
I stood up and pointed the rod, which was still in my hand, at the creature. It held its gun away from me in a clearly placating manner. Seeing this, I turned my weapon away in a similar manner.
“Ok. By any chance at all, do you understand me?” I asked without any real hope for success.
I was already formulating a means by which to communicate via gestures using my legendary charades skills when it slowly holstered its weapon on a slot below its arm. It slowly raised its firing hand in the air then carefully brought it to the wrist of its remaining arm and began pressing a series of buttons on some device it had.
It started making some chirping noises before a synthesized voice emanated from the device on its wrist, “Human. You are in grave danger! I must secure this station or all hope will be lost. Do you understand?”
I stared blankly at it for a few moments, my eyes wide with panic before I finally blurted out, “... What?!”
​
First | Previous | Next

We stand, us three, alone in the wilderness. The wind is wild and roars through the rippling wildgrass wastes. Grey-green plains beneath a wet, grim sky. The sounds of waves crashing and frothing against the distant coast are carried on the airs, and the ground rumbles.
The low hill that rises from the ground before us starts to shake.
“Guys”, Boots mutters to my right, shifting. “What’s- What’s happening?”
We don’t respond.
This will be his first time down below. Boots, I mean. His first time seeing the Subject.
​
The secret of the isles.
​
‘Boots’ is not what the lad is actually called. He was so-named for a moment of madness in his very first week here. For some inane reason or other, nerves, perhaps, or a poor attempt at a joke, he had complimented the boots of a passing officer.
‘Nice boots’, he’d said, and the officer had come to a stop at once, turning to stare at the young man as if he were an alien from another bloody planet.
The boots are standard issue, of course. They’re all the exact same.
And the name had stuck. Boots was ‘Boots’ from that moment on.
​
With a rumble and the grinding of old and wearied gears unseen, the front face of the hill rotates around. A panel of fake grass slides to the right and out of sight beneath the edge of the hill, revealing inside it a small and gloomy metal room. Ryland and I step on in.
Ryland is the soldier to my left. He’s been stationed here for as long as I have. Six months, so far. He’s alright. A bit of a prick, sometimes, but you know. He’s fine.
After a second of hesitation Boots follows us in, and the door grinds shut behind us. We are plunged for a moment into complete darkness, then a weak orange bulb attached to the rails in the upper right flickers weakly into life.
There is another low clank from below, and the floor begins to vibrate. Our stomachs lurch as we feel ourselves drop, and the rough earth and stone of our surroundings start to rise up all around.
It’s a lift, you see. An elevator.
And down we go.
Down, down, under the ground.
​
I’m looking straight ahead at the rushing rock, illuminated faintly in orange, but in the corner of my eye I can see Boots shift from one foot to the other. I sense him tense up.
He’s starting to feel it. For the first time. The waves of misery that emanate up from below. From the Subject. And they only get stronger and stronger as you get closer and closer.
I try to remember what it was like for me, on my first time down into the complex.
“It’s alright mate”, I mutter. “Just try to remember that it ain’t permanent. It passes once you return to the surface”.
​
Boots nods, but says nothing.
The lift rattles.
And down we go.
​
The dark rock ahead rushes by, and after a while we start to pass other materials too. Steel bars and beams. Rusted panels. Thick panes of glass that allow us fleeting glimpses into old and sterile corridors; of scientists and soldiers, blurred and anonymous.
The lift begins to slow.
The rock and the metal peel back and away like a parting curtain. The view ahead reveals us to be near the roof of an enormous, hangar-like cavern, and grants us a vantage-point out and below. People shuffle from place to place far beneath like little toys.
This is the centre of the complex. And it is vast. This is where they keep the Subject.
Boots steps forwards, he puts a hand on the rail and peers out over the edge. It’s weird having him with us, it’s like I’m seeing everything again for the first time, through his eyes.
“Holy crap…” he mutters, bewildered.
The edges of the hangar are shrouded in darkness, and stuffed full of various computers and generators, all inter-connected with cables and wires. Scientists pour over the data. They take endless readings. Soldiers march by, all shadowed…
..But the very centre of the hangar is brightly illuminated. Perpetually held in the glare of a dozen floodlamps, all evenly spaced and pointed down at the complex’s centrepiece.
​
The Subject.
​
“What is he?” Boots asks.
“It”, Ryland mutters. “The higher-ups insist. They want us calling it an ‘it’”.
“But… I don’t know, he looks so much like a-”
“IT, Boots, for fuck’s sake. It’s an IT”.
Boots says no more, and returns his gaze out over the scene below.
The subject, even as brightly lit as it is, is still quite far away from our current position, and its features are not easily distinguishable.
But I’ve been up close. I’ve seen what they’re keeping down here.
The Subject stands slightly taller than your average man. It’s about 6’7, or 6’8, by my guess. Held in a rough ‘X’ shape, the Subject’s wrists and ankles are bound in heavy chains, of a black and unknown metal. They are pulled taught, and connect to the enormous, similarly metalled giant circle to which he is held.
The Subject has the appearance and features of a Caucasian male. It is dark-tan skinned, and completely hairless, but for two eyebrows of pure white, furrowed above a pair of eyes that are perpetually closed tight shut. Sleeping.
Its body is adorned with a series of curious and intricate tattoos. Some in black, some, bizarrely, in white. A circle has been drawn across its chest and upper torso. The circle has two great wings that burst from the top, and two that splay out from beneath, spreading out across its ribcage. All down its arms are a series of eyes in various shapes and sizes; but all open wide, all staring.
These are the only things I recognise. The only things that anyone recognises. No-one has yet successfully identified the myriad of runes and symbols that cover its neck, its shoulders and back.
Behind the Subject stands a tall rectangular machine. A mechanical monolith, ever grinding, ever humming. It’s a generator of sorts that bottoms into a heavy tripod, and in its grip it holds tight a burning shard, large and sharp and jagged at the edges, as if broken from a piece of an even greater whole. The shard is glass-like, and white-hot at the centre. Mesmerising patterns of fiery yellow and orange ripple paradoxically like water across its form.
The shard is plunged into the Subject’s back, between the two appendages that protrude from its shoulder blades like broken bones of diamond. The shard strikes out through the Subject’s chest. Always rippling in its shades of orange and yellow and white, ever-burning, flamelessly.
…All quite necessary for his containment, they tell me.
…For IT’S containment, I should say.
It really is difficult not to think of the Subject as a he…
​
The lift comes to a stop at the base of the hangar, clanking down against the concrete. The rail unlocks and we walk on out into the complex.
The waves of despair are strong now. I see Boots lift a hand to wipe his eyes, though I choose not to comment.
The Captain approaches. He’s not in charge of the complex, but he could well be the highest-ranking officer on duty today. The ones at the top don’t like spending much time down here, for obvious reasons.
“Afternoon lads”, the Captain grunts. He’s a broad-shouldered man. Scarred across one cheek.
“Sir”, we reply, more or less as one, standing straight and saluting.
“About time you fuckers got down here. And who’s this crybaby?”
Ryland speaks before Boots has a chance to respond. “That’s Boots, Sir”.
“Boots, eh?” The Captain scratches his chin. “Bad luck on the name”. He turns to me. “And where’s that little sidepiece of yours, eh Lotsford?” He makes a show of peering past me into the empty lift. “Woulda been nice for the lads at the top to send down a bit of eyecandy for a change…”
“She’s already down here Sir”, I reply. “Has been for four days now”.
“You what!? Why the fuck didn’t anyone tell me? Well where the hell is she?”
“I don’t know Sir”, I lie.
“Hmm”. He grunts, then turns to Ryland. “What’s a bird like her doing with a wasteman like this, eh Ryland? I bet you’d love to have a go on her, wouldn’t you?”
Ryland, after a beat, and still looking straight ahead, replies: “Not my place to say, Sir”.
The Captain chuckles. “Coward. So where can I find her then Lotsford? Think she’ll be interested in a go on this?” he gestures to his crotch.
“Unlikely Sir”, I reply, clenching my fist by my side.
“And why is that?”
“She’s an engineer Sir. I imagine she’s had her fill of attending to broken parts”.
Ryland snorts, and to his credit, so does the Captain.
“How long are you down here for Lotsford?”
“Three days”, I reply.
“Make it five”.
“Yes Sir”.
“Alright fuckers. Get to work. Dismissed”.
We salute and leave the Captain behind.
​
…Yeah, he’s a prick. You get used to it.
​
Ryland disappears off to our station, and I direct Boots to where he needs to go with a pat on the back. I watch him head through the appropriate door and disappear down the corridor. I shoot a glance over to the Subject. I’ll be needed at the station with Ryland, but… there’s no immediate rush, I figure. Time enough for a little detour.
I push through the door and ascend the stairs. I walk tall and confident, so as not to attract any questions as to my destination, and ascend set after set of stairs through the sterile, peeling white corridors.
A few floors up I find her, more or less where I was expecting to find her. The girl I’ve been seeing. Taylor. She’s working on an enormous piece of weaponry. It’s new; wasn’t there the last time I was here. It stands at the very head of the corridor, and is angled in such a way as to point out and over the waist-high wall, down to the floodlit centre of the domed complex, aimed directly at the Subject far below.
I call out to the lass in greeting.
“Lotsford!” she says in surprise, her teeth showing white in a warm grin. It could well be the first time she’s smiled in days. It’s brutal down here.
I don’t know why we call each other by our last names, by the way. It’s just something we do.
She stands and pulls me into a hug. I kiss her on the lips, and then on the neck.
“Get a room!” echoes a grouchy voice from the far end of the corridor.
She pulls back a little, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t expecting to see you down here?”
“Shift got changed. You know how the army is. And what about you? I thought you were due to return to the surface like two days ago?”
She shrugs. “You know how the army is”.
We share a laugh. A welcome sound in the gloom of these sterile corridors.
"So how long are you done here for then?" she asks me.
"Five days. It was meant to be three, but the Captain screwed me over. Ryland and Boots are down here too".
"Oh", she muses. "Ryland's here too? How long are the guys gonna be down?"
"Three days, same as I was meant to have". I shrug, and she puts her hands out in an 'ah well, what can you do' kind of gesture.
I nod to the enormous contraption she’s working on. “What’s this then?”
She makes a noise of exhaustion. “This bloody thing is why I’m down here. The up-aboves don’t want us to change shifts with the next lot until we’ve actually completed the work on at least one of these bad boys. It would be easier if they let us test them a little more, but, well… they don’t”.
“What is it?” I ask. ”It's a weapon, right? What does it fire?”
Taylor nods. “Yeah. Security measure for the Subject. Take a look at this”.
She leads me just around the corner to a pedestalled and plexiglass container. Based on what’s held inside, however, I’m assuming that the material is a little more expensive than simple plexiglass.
Held precisely and carefully on two narrow metal prongs is a long bullet. Made of the same shimmering, fiery material as the blade embedded in the Subject’s chest, the bullet is ringed in two bands of what appears to be dark and glistening wood.
“Woah”, I mutter.
“Yeah”, she replies. “No idea how it was made, or even what it’s made of, but I’m presuming it’s expensive as all hell”.
“Mm”, I murmur in agreement.
My ears prick up at the sounds of running feet, and I take a step back and return round the corner into the corridor. One of the scientists that works here, a woman in a white coat, is hurriedly making her way towards us. She glances anxiously back over her shoulder, tugging at her sleeves…
…And I am instantly alert. My mood hardens at once and I feel all my senses sharpen in reflex.
Something’s not right here.
“Hey”, I call out, “excuse me? Is everything okay?”
The scientist stops in her tracks to stare at me, she stammers, frozen in place, as if on the verge of sharing some crucial information… Then we turn as one to stare down the corridor as a ripple of icy wind blows down it.
…Not possible, of course. There is no wind down here. Nothing produces a sensation like that.
…And yet.
​
Goosebumps ripple across my skin and my blood runs instantly cold. Eyes wide, I cannot help but stand stock still, staring down the long and gloomy corridor ahead. The overhead lights at the far end fizzle out, and the furthest reaches are plunged into shadow.
And the shadows deepen.
The entire complex, as it stands, could do with a little maintenance. Peeled paint and chipped glass tell a tale of laziness. Of idle neglect. But looking down the corridor now… The sensation is, all at once, so much more noticeable. The disrepair that one would never even see on a normal patrol now reeks of rot.
Of sickness.
Of discord, and disarray.
Even though physically the outward appearance of the walls and the ceiling and the various doors remains largely the same.. the impression they give now is that they could collapse at any moment. That behind the scenes they are only barely held together, by the thinnest of strands. I can almost hear the beams and the concrete crack… and a voice reverberates out from the encroaching darkness, as the lights start to fail one by one.
​
“Where is he? I know he is waiting for us, soldier”.
​
The voice is accompanied by the appearance of an appendage of what I can only describe as thick, void-like black ink. Only barely visible through the shadows, it slithers around the far corner into sight, and begins to leak and ooze across the floor towards us.
It is here where my training kicks in.
Before I can even issue the order to my legs I find them striding to the switch on the nearby wall. My elbow rises up to smash the glass and I grab the switch, slamming it down hard to an accompanying wail of a siren, one that screams overhead and blares through the walls. The white coat of the scientist is illuminated in the repetitive, steady beat of a flashing orange light and I bring my radio up to my mouth, watching as the barriers start to appear. One of them grinds into life behind me, a sheet of metal, steadily grinding out from the ceiling and obscuring the aim of the enormous gun, blocking off the view over the edge and down to the Subject and the centre of the complex below. Another starts to slide out from the wall a few metres ahead.
A great grid of solid metal; it shudders as it pushes out from its slot hidden away in the wall, and rumbles as it gradually blocks the rest of the corridor from view. I catch a glimpse of a wet and inky-black body spilling around the far corner before the barrier judders and fixes itself into place.
“CORRIDOR D-12 TO HQ”, I shout into the receiver, “CORRIDOR D-12 TO HQ! WE ARE FACING A LEVEL ONE BREACH!”
I can’t even believe I’m saying it. I never thought this could happen. Never in a thousand-thousand years. I might as well be dreaming; my voice, it barely even sounds like my own, to my ears… But into the radio I shout, as loud and as clear as I can:
“I REPEAT: LEVEL ONE BREACH. WE ARE FACING A LEVEL ONE BREACH!”
​
[2/4]

This is the final part, out of 3, for a massive theory that aimed to clarify the seemingly contradictory lore about Gellar Fields.
Part 1:
Part 2:
For those of you that have managed to make it this far, here's a virtual high five from across the internet! I know for a fact that I would've stopped reading what amounts to a 36 page essay, a long time ago. I'm glad that these prior discussion interests you enough to continue reading. For those who just saw this post, I will give a recap on what was covered in the previous post.
As a Tl;Dr for
Part 1:
Part 2:

• Gellar Fields and Veil energy are incredibly similar, to the point where we can conclude that they're probably the same thing
  • This is important because this means that the Gellar Field energy is the same energy that forms the dimensional boundary which separates Realspace and the Warp
• Both Imperial Gellar Systems and Drukhari Anti-warp barriers can manipulate the traumatized souls of comatose psykers to ward their ships
• What I call the "Sewn Bubble" model of Gellar Field generation involves the manipulation of a psyker's soul to distort Veil energy around a Void ship, forming a spherical barrier of Veil energy that is then stabilized by the Psyker's soul being weaved into it, akin to thread being woven into fabric
• This "Sewn Bubble" model is also capable of justifying other instances of Gellar Fields in the lore

In this final part, I will attempt to use the lore to determine how DaOT humans would've been able to create Gellar Fields, as well as postulate who the Gellar Field's inventor could've been. Additionally, I'll use the information from the previous parts of this post to provide a snapshot on what DaOT society could've been. Finally, I'll first give a brief comparison to what other Xenos factions do to protect themselves from the warp, and then conclude this theory with closing remarks, and shortcomings
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

V. Glance at DaOT Society

By using the assembled lore, it’s also possible to glean hints that may reveal what society was like during the DaOT.
One such hint is that DaOT humans used an entirely different set of methods to manipulate the Veil and produce Gellar Fields. An example of which is shown in Skitarus, during which the Geller Device emits Gellar Waves without having to make use of a single psyker in its construction. While it is unclear how this is achieved, hints of a mechanical justification may be gleaned from the Dark Heresy Books. First, in Dark Heresy: Purge the Unclean, we have the following description of both Hexagrammic and Pentagrammic wards

Wards are legendary creations dating far back into the Dark Age of Technology. Wards are technoarcane devices that project subtle energy fields capable of influencing warp emanations. They are two types; hexagrammic and pentagrammic. Hexagrammic wards are designed to protect against psychic attacks, as the wards “siphon” away the energy of the immaterium, channelling it into harmless static discharges. Sanctioned psykers will be all too familiar with this type of ward, having been exposed to them during their “stay” onboard a Black Ship. Pentagrammic wards exist to defend humanity against Daemons and the corrupt energies they wield. Since the knowledge of Daemons is proscribed, the existence of pentagrammic wards is a secret known to few outside of the Inquisition, with the exception of those at the highest levels of the Adeptus Ministorum and the Tech-Priests of the Machine God.

From this excerpt, it's clear that the Gellar Field wasn’t the only piece of psy tech that the DaOT created. More importantly, this excerpt hints that psychic effects, as a whole, do not have to solely rely on occult glyphs and iconographies. Instead, they can be wrought by science and technology. As DaOT humans were predominantly atheist, this would mean that they would’ve not only disregarded the contents of occult texts that describe how the warp works, but they would’ve also failed to make use of any occult resources that they’re in possession of. However, we know that humans in the DaOT still used psy-tech despite a lack of both psykers and dogma. Thus, the only way that DaOT humans would’ve been able to manipulate the warp was if they devised a form of mathematics that allowed them to do so. This idea is corroborated in Enemies Beyond, which talks about how Pentagrammic wards, in particular, are constructed.

One of the Ordo Malleus’s most closely guarded secrets, these wards come about through a complex and arcane process of occult rituals, holy symbology, and the application of lost aerythmetical formulae. When complete, pentagramatic wards block Warp entities, and are often so potent that even approaching one is enough to damage or banish a Daemon.

From this excerpt, it's evident that Imperial Pentagrammic wards are a combination of both dogma and science. Since the DaOT society was largely, if not completely atheist, this would preclude the possibility that their inventors would’ve devised any occult ritual or holy symbologies to manipulate the Warp. Instead, it’s likely that these religious motifs were actually introduced by the Ordo Malleus, as the Ordo Malleus is a militant branch of a Theocratic society which deals with the supernatural. In contrast, the “lost aerythmetical formulae” seem to be the remnants that originated during the DaOT. Since rigorous application of mathematics and science formed the backbone of DaOT society, it would make sense that some form of Mathematica was used to manipulate the warp when mankind had neither the manpower or dogma to do so.
Additionally, the keyword “formulae” is written in the plural tense, indicating that “lost aerythmetical formulae” do not constitute one standalone, mathematical expression. Instead, this passage implies that multiple, warp-interacting, mathematical expressions were used to construct this piece of psy-tech. Furthermore, the very formulae used in the Pentagrammic ward were likely to be part of a much greater subset of warp interacting formulae that were rigorously derived from millennia of research and development. In fact, many of these aerythmetical expressions were likely incorporated in many DaOT constructs. An example of which is shown in the short story Myriad, in the form of a Man of Iron known as the Tabula Myriad, that was able to banish a daemonhost using cold hard logic:

‘What is the name of this cursed machine?’ Raman Synk demanded to know.
‘Identica recorded as Impedicus,’ Arquid Cornelicus said. ‘First Maniple, Daedarii Reserve.’
‘By the Omnissiah, no,’ Raman Synk gasped, his projected voice wavering. ‘The Tabula Myriad.’
‘You’ve seen this thing before?’ Lennox said. ‘What is it?’
‘A long time ago,’ the lexorcist said. ‘It is a heretekal thing of monstrous power. An exigency engine – an Abominable Intelligence that I thought I had buried deep in a dungeon-diagnostica.’
‘What does it do?’ the princeps asked.
‘The Tabula Myriad wins. Using the coldest logic and computational power beyond the servants of the Machine-God.’
[...]
‘What’s happening?’ Lennox said.
Lenk 4-of-12 was screaming. The menial, who had been fearful of the battle-automata when it was a lifeless shell, was now throwing himself wildly at the thick armourglass of the quarantine observation window, his data cables swinging wildly. Battering himself bloody and insensible, he shrieked like a madman. Tearing at his body and face, he turned to face Impedicus. The battle-automata drowned the forge labourer in its shadow.
The screaming stopped. Lenk 4-of-12’s face seemed to relax.
The battle-automata Impedicus stood silently over the possessed forge-worlder.
[...]
But now, the fused diagnostic lines bucked and flickered as Impedicus sent a cold stream of logic back into the ceiling hub.
Lenk 4-of-12 let out a pained screech so loud that it distorted the audio channels.
In the presence of the Abominable Intelligence, bathed in cold logic and the truths undeniable, the false construct was cleansed of its corruption. Lennox watched the impossible on the runescreen. The daemonic presence was banished from Lenk 4-of-12. The infernal light died in his eyes. Like tumorous growths before the intensity of radiation, the menial’s corrupted flesh withered. Allowing the tracking device to drop to the floor, Lenk 4-of-12 lost consciousness and followed it, the limp data cables tugging loose from his interface ports as he fell.
Lifting an armoured foot, Impedicus stamped down on the tracking device, crushing the filth of its inner workings into the floor.

Since there is a lack of evidence to suggest that the Tabula Myriad is a unique machine by DaOT standards, the opposite may be the case: That the Tabula Myriad was a rather ubiquitous machine, and was able to manipulate the warp, despite being a soulless construct that was only capable of using the powers of raw logic. As such, not only can the laws of the Warp be codified by logic and reason, but both can be applied in ingenious ways to manipulate the Warp. Tying this discussion back to Gellar Fields, the implication of which is that the DaOT humans never used psykers or faith to construct Gellar Fields. Instead, they used a branch of mathematics, dubbed Aerythmetica, that both governed and manipulated the warp. Assuming that the energetic qualities of Gellar Fields remained the same between both the DaOT and m40, this would mean that DaOT humans could create Gellar Fields by using Warp resonant sub-routines, instead of a psyker, to stabilize the Veil Barrier. These subroutines could be encoded in the Gellar Field Generator themselves, and would not need to be updated as regularly as how Imperial Generators replace dead psykers with live ones.
Another hint that can be gleaned is that a possible identity of the Gellar Field’s inventor can be constructed from the lore. An indication of this elusive individual appears in Farsight: Crisis of Faith, during which Por Malcaor, a member of the Water Caste, read the inscription on the vial of holy water. In this given instance, the word Gellar appears, but as a modifier to the word Saint, more specifically as a name of which the title “Saint'' applies to. As the only other time Gellar appears is when describing the Gellar Field Generators or Gellar Fields themselves, it can be concluded that Gellar was an actual person, and likely the inventor of both the generator and the field.
Furthermore, we can also conclude that the term “Gellar” was most likely the name of an important individual in the DaOT and is famous enough to be remembered and revered by the Mechanicum. If Gellar actually was the inventor of both Gellar Fields and Gellar Field Generators, this would mean that their contribution to mankind’s cultural and technological development was immense, as it was due to their invention that mankind was able to expand beyond the solar system. With such a massive cultural footprint, it is no wonder that the Mechanicus would canonize Gellar. This putative identity of Gellar is further supported by the Gellar Device, an STC whose name was already dedicated to Gellar. If Gellar was an individual born during the Old Night or during the dawn of the Imperium, then their invention wouldn’t have been featured on an STC template. Even if they were born in the DaOT, the fact that the energy emitted is also named Gellar suggests that Gellar’s contribution to science, during the DaOT, goes beyond that of simply inventing the “Gellar bomb”. In fact, this naming convention implies that their discoveries were also instrumental to many warp based tech used during the DaOT.
While Gellar’s backstory is never explicitly stated, the lore provides possible leads that may hint at their origins. In The Hollow Mountain, the Nexus Axiomatic, which is the headquarters of the Merchant Fleets, feature interpretive hieroglyphics depicted on murals whose origins are implied to be from the DaOT. Displayed on these hieroglyphs were depicted as important events in human history, leading up to the recent developments in the DaOT. Most notably, one of the glyphs depicts a poignant individual who is implied to be both the inventor of the Gellar Field and the Warp Drive:

Crowl’s boots sunk into the layer of mist. He walked past bas-relief panels depicting various stellar milestones. There was a geometrical representation of the first warp engine, with a robed figure resting one hand on its casing while raising the other to the starlit skies above. Next came what appeared to be a schematic of a prototype Geller generator, with flows of rune-marked energy around a symbolic unpacking of the core shield harmonics. The same figure was depicted there too, an austere character with sombre eyes, gesturing across the circuit diagrams as if pointing out some potent theological truth. After that came further images, some hard to make any sense of at all. There was a throne, seemingly placed in the heart of the void and connected to a figurative galactic map of swirls and tunnels, then a foetus curled up in a cartouche-shaped vial with a flame burning in the midst of its forehead. It was all rather more reminiscent of a Ministorum chapel than a temple of commerce.

Even though the robed figure’s identity is unclear, it’s clear that they were instrumental to the creation of both the Warp Drive and the Gellar Field. If Gellar’s prominence in DaOT society was due to their seminal contributions to Warp sciences, then creating both the Warp Drive and the Gellar Field Generator would be achievements that would justify the acclaim that they received. Furthermore, if Gellar was indeed among the lead inventors of both machines, then we can pin their racial identity as belonging to the Men of Stone. This is supported by the Journal of Keeper Cripias, which explicitly states that the Men of Stone were the first ones to create both Warp Drives and Gellar Field Generators to traverse the stars:

And so it was that in the First Age of Man, the Golden Age, there is the Emperor Unseen and Unheralded as he prepares the Old Earth for the coming of Mankind while he watches and he waits. He is joined by the First Men of the Golden Race, fine of limb and strong of mind, yet still the Emperor is content to wait in shadow. To watch and learn from Mankind, the Golden Race spreads across the face of Old Earth, multiplying and establishing Order and Civilisation on the anarchy of Nature. In time, the Second Men of the Stone Race appear, and in their wake come many miracles and marvels of technology that strengthen the Stone Men’s power, but are also harnessed by those of the Golden Race. Although physically inferior to the Golden Race, and not of philosophical temperament and disposition, the Stone Men have in them the conjurations of great artifices and mechanisms. In time, the Golden Race looks to the stars to expand their dominion. The Stone Race builds great machines of power that send both Men of Stone and Men of Gold into the Ether. However, once the burgeoning race of Mankind has taken its first steps into the greater cosmos, the Golden Race dwindles in influence through their dependence on the artifices of the Stone Race. Thus the Golden Age comes to an end and the Stone Men prevail.

This source, while old, is still supported by more recent lore, as the short story Ancient History features a putative Man of Stone who retells mankind’s old history, and claims that it was ultimately the Men of Stone who pioneered Mankind’s exploration into the stars:

'ONCE, LONG AGO, Man lived on just one island. The broad oceans surrounded him and he believed himself alone. In time, Man's stature grew and he caught sight of other isles far off across the deep ocean. Since he had seen everything on his island, climbed every peak and looked under every stone, he became curious about the other islands and tried to reach them. He soon found the oceans too deep and cold for him to get far, not nearly a hundredth of the way to the next island. So Man returned and put his hand to other things for an age.
'But in time food and water and air ran short on Man's island and he looked to the far islands again. Because he could not bear the cold of the ocean depths, he fashioned Men of Stone to go in his place, and the Stone Men fashioned Men of Steel to become their hands and eyes. And the Stone Men went forth with their servants and swam in the deep oceans. They found many strange things on the far islands, but none as strange or as wicked as the things that swam in the depths between them; ancient, hungry things older than Man himself.
'But these beasts of the deep hungered for the true life of Man, not the half-life of Stone, so the Stone Men swam unmolested. At first all was well and the Men of Stone planted Man's Seed on many islands, and in time Man learned to travel the oceans himself, hiding in Stone ships to keep out the cold and the hunger of the beasts. All was well and Men spread to many islands far across the ocean, such that some even forgot how they came to be there and that they ever came from just one island at all.'

By using both excerpts, we can also infer that Gellar was alive during m18, as we know that both pieces of machinery were created within the same millenia, if not simultaneously. This would mean that Gellar was an individual who predated the DaOT, as it only officially began around m20. Additionally, this observation about Gellar’s life would add credence to the veneration they received during the DaOT, as their work formed the cornerstone of an entire galactic society. In conclusion, if the top 3 observations hold true, then we can conclude that Gellar, or rather Dr. Gellar, was a legendary Man of Stone, whose call to claim was the invention of two machines whose legacies have transcended the rise and fall of empires.
This theory doesn’t discount the possibility that Gellar is actually an individual who predates even the creation of the Gellar Field Generator. As in the case of the Gellar Device, the Gellar Field Generator could also be paying homage to Gellar’s contribution to science. If this was the case, then it’s unclear whether Gellar was a Man of Stone, Man of Gold, or baseline man. Depending on how long ago he lived, any of these options would be equally as valid. Additionally, this would also mean that Gellar’s contribution to science goes beyond the invention of any given device, and his call to fame may instead be the discovery of principles that both Gellar Field Generators and the Gellar Device use. In fact, as both the Gellar Field Generators and the Gellar Device manipulate the Veil, it could be that Gellar was a seminal scientist who discovered this barrier in the first place. However, further evidence would need to be presented that can validate this claim.
A third hint that can be gleaned about the DaOT society is that human psykers were generally not used for interstellar travels. As established earlier, psykers, and thus the navigator gene were only created during the waning days of m22, almost 5 millenia after Mankind left its birth cradle to explore the Milky Way. What this meant was that DaOT humans had neither the manpower to both protect and steer their ships within the Warp. Since prior discussion already introduced the idea that the DaOT humans devised purely mechanical means to safeguard ships, it would not be a big leap to assume that they would’ve also had machinery that helped them navigate through it. This assumption is actually supported by the lore, as Rogue Trader: Into the Storm reveals a piece of archaeotech that was likely instrumental in guiding mankind through the warp:

VOID ABACUS
While the search for priceless archeotech is one of the most profitable endeavours a Rogue Trader can undertake, there are those who dedicate their lives to the suppression and elimination of many wondrous items from the Dark Age of Technology. One such item sought after by both camps is the Void Abacus, most famously unearthed on the cursed Munitorum planet of Soloman in the Markayn Marches, but also recovered in the bowels of many an ancient hive spire or nameless space hulk. For these can do something very valuable indeed—when integrated into a ship’s auspex and propulsion systems they can allow a ship to make accurate void jumps four or five times longer than normal without a Navigator’s aid. This allows many more types of ships to travel safely, something the Navigator’s Guild cannot allow. While the Guild cannot directly outlaw their use, they can act to buy, destroy, or sabotage any and all they can find. That they will arrange for the same fate to befall to any vessel found using one is an open secret as well.

While it is unclear how ubiquitous these Void Abacus truly were, its very existence indicates that DaOT mankind already had the technology to successfully navigate through the warp. Furthermore, if the Void Abacus had the potential to be miniaturized, this would open up the possibility for DaOT humans to have single passenger void ships that could enter, navigate, and translate out of the Warp through sheer computational power. If this occurred, then it’s highly likely that during the DaOT, Warp capable voidships were much more affordable. This means that for the average citizen, piloting a Warp capable voidship may require similar legalese to obtain a license to drive a car or airplane. While it’s unclear how much of a monetary expense this would be for the average citizen, it is no doubt that mechanizing all aspects of warp travel would allow human civilization to be much more interconnected than the Imperium ever was.
A fourth hint that can be gleaned is that the existence of Aerythmetic formulae hints at the possible existence of an extensive, and esoteric collection of warp-theorems that allowed DaOT humans to interact with the Warp in ways the Imperium would never dream about. In fact, it's highly possible that psychic technology during the DaOT was so pervasive throughout society that they would be readily commercialized for personal use. In essence, this would mean that DaOT humans had the privilege of buying warp powers using their personal wages. Hints of this can be construed in the novel Ravenor Rogue, during which Ravenor, an interrogator at the time, confronted Zygmunt Molotch, a chaos cultist disguised as an academician. During his fight against Molotch, we see evidence that Hexagrammic wards can be applied as a tattoo instead of their bulkier incarnation that contain religious icons and extensive psy-circuitry.

The flick knocked the man’s laspistol up out of his hand into the air. The man looked honestly surprised, to be disarmed so foolishly, but he was far from defenceless. He was a psyker, a strong one. Molotch could feel it. Only the hexagrammic wards tattooed on Molotch’s scalp under the hairline were keeping the man’s mind at bay.
And then
His scalp began to smoulder. The oppressive weight of psychic power was burning out the tattooed wards, turning them into bloody welts. In another few seconds, they would be gone and he would be open to the man’s mind.

From this excerpt, we can see that one of the two, inherited psy-wards from the DaOT can be miniaturized, and inscribed on flesh. Since Hexagrammic warding systems can be rendered as tattoos, it's likely that Pentagrammic wards can as well. As it’s implied that the math behind Hexagrammic and Pentagrammic warding systems are parts of a greater system of Aerythmetic principles, this highlights the possibility that other lost forms of Aerythmetical expression can also be similarly turned into tattoos. If this holds true, then the DaOT humans had the potential to render sizable fractions of their Warp resonant, mathematical constructs into mere tattoos to imbue upon its citizens. In other words, it's possible for the Human Federation to have rendered psychic powers into a galaxy wide, service based industry.
The implications of which can be visualized using the following example: If a citizen of the DaOT wanted to obtain the psychic ability of pyromancy, then they can potentially purchase “warp power” lozenges from vending machines, and consume them to gain the ability of fire. While it’s unclear how these pills mechanistically interact with human physiology, the end result is that a baseline human can obtain a Warp sigil on their skin that allows them to spew Warp flames without having to worry about any subsequent perils that may occur. In fact, it could be the case that these mathematical sigils can be combined to allow a DaOT human to harness a wide variety of Warp powers, akin to those used by sanctioned psykers of the Imperium. Additionally, tweaking the aerythmetical construction of these Warp sigils can potentially alter the strength of the bestowed Warp Power. In other words, tweaking the Aerythmetical arrangement of these constructs can allow a baseline human to discharge Warp lightning powerful enough to short out power grids of entire hab blocks.
However, there is a catch. From Eisenhorn: Malleus, we see evidence that the strength of these warp resonant, mathematical constructs can correlate with the material they’re inscribed upon, as well as the complexity of the symbol itself:

I drew my hanger. The short curved blade shone in Prophaniti’s glare. The runes inscribed on the blade by the Ministorum glittered.
I swung hard, skillessly and frantic, the blade of the hunting sword biting into its rib-meat. It howled and flew back, smoke issuing from the gash.
I circled, hanger in my right hand, Bequin clinging to my left.
‘You’ve done your homework. Pentagrammatic runes on your blade. A nice touch. They hurt!’
It lunged at me.
‘But nothing like the hurt you will feel!’
Alizebeth screamed. She fell, and I struggled to hold on to her hand. If our contact broke, I would feel the full force of the daemonhost’s power.
I blocked with my falcate blade, shredding the flesh off the left part of its chest, exposing the ribs.
Its talons ripped into my left shoulder and down my flank, ripping my body-armour into tatters.
Blood cascaded down inside my clothes.
I swung again, trying for an uin ulsar. It gripped my blade fast, in its one
good hand. Smoke rose from the clamping fist around the blade.
It clenched its teeth in pain. ‘The wards… hurt… but they are no… stronger… than the weapon… you should learn to… make your weapons sounder… next time…’
‘Not that there will be… a next time….’ it added. The hanger had become so hot, I let it go with a howl. Prophaniti tossed the buckled, molten steel aside. It had burned its hand terribly, but it didn’t seem to notice.
‘Now comes death,’ it said, reaching for me.

Later passages in the novel reiterate the importance of an inscribed surface’s structural stability, as Eisenhorn later uses a Pentagram-inscribed, Barbarisater to sustainably trade blows with the Daemon sword Kharnagar, despite the fact that his previous, less unique falcate crumbled under a Daemonhost’s closed grip. In this following excerpt, Barbaristar’s physical qualities are described, indicating to us that its material strength is likely superior to that of Eisenhorn’s old falcate. In fact, the blade is revealed to be uniquely robust, even among those forged using Mechanicum expertise.

‘What do you think?’ he asked, drawing the cloth back.
Barbarisater was as beautiful as I remembered it. I admired the fresh pentagrammatic wards that had been etched in the blade since I had last seen it, ten on each side.
‘It is a remarkable artifact. I was almost unwilling to make the alterations you requested. As it was, I wore out eight adamantium drill bits on this side alone. The hardened steel skin of the blade around the solid core has been folded and beaten nine hundred times. It is beyond anything we can manufacture today.’

And later, Eisenhorn uses it to trade blows with Kharnagar in an extensive duel, despite the fact that Kharnager the Deathly was a Daemon prince whose sword form channeled latent warp energy capable of penetrating Cherubael’s flesh.

Eisenhorn, he said. It was psychic. His twisted mouth didn’t open.
Barbarisater felt him move before I did. It lurched in my hands. In the time it takes to draw a breath, we had exchanged a flurry of twenty or more blows. The talon-edged blade of Kharnager rang dully off the Carthaen steel. Barbarisater’s pentagrammatic runes flashed and flared with discharging energy. Kharnager groaned softly.
Heretic! Slave of Chaos! his raw, broken mind-voice railed in my brain.
You speak of yourself! I returned. Our blades continued to ring off one another, hunting for a gap, mutually denied.
And then,
We broke, and then came in again, blades striking so fast the noise became one long ringing tone. I barely made an ulsar in time to stop one of his rapid down-stabs. He blocked my response of a tahn wyla, and the uru arav that I followed it with.
And later,
We rained blows at each other, drawing sparks and little curls of vapour from the blade edges. I tried a low swing, but he leapt over it, and alternated a series of scissoring blows that drove me backwards across the dusty ground. I thought my feet would slip. He was a whirlwind.

As described, these excerpts clearly demonstrate that between wards of the same construction and specificity, the materials they are engraved upon makes, quite literally, a life or death difference in their effectiveness. In the context of the Warp tattoos, this would mean that there is a limit to the strength of Warp Sigils that DaOT humans can inscribe on their flesh. However, their understanding of materials science is not to be underestimated. In the novel: Valdor - Birth of the Imperium, we see how Custodes power armor, constructed using cobbled together, DaOT materials science and technological expertise, still made use out of nanotechnology.

So when Valdor looked at his armour now, he saw the way every component fitted perfectly against his flesh, the way every component slotted perfectly against the others. Every sinew-link, every fibre-bundle, every synapse-jack – they were all works of art, tailored to him alone and wearable by no other soul. Once donned, the division between armour and wearer was more a matter of semantics than anything else – for all practical purposes, they became one unit, a seamless amalgam of genebred muscle and lab-wrought nanotechnology.

Since a general assumption of the Warhammer 40k setting is that any piece of technology originating from the DaOT is superior to Imperial design, DaOT humans would’ve also used nanomachinery, if not extensively. In fact, we can surmise that the DaOT humans could bypass the Sigils’ limitations by using nanomachines to construct these Warp tattoos instead. Once in the body, these nanomachines can be deposited to the consumer’s skin atoms at a time, creating Warp Sigils constructed out of a unique alloy of unparalleled physical properties. In this case, the sigils would put strain not on the flesh, but on the self assembling nanomaterial that make up the construct. In fact, these sigils can also be programmed to self-repair, following Aetheric wear and tear. This could be achieved by recycling expended nanomachines through sub-dermal implants that can convert a user’s metabolic byproducts into atomic fuel. This fuel is then used to create new nanomachinery, that can be programmed to deposit where a Sigil can be found. Through this process, Warp powers of both prodigious strength and diversity can be given to any individual in DaOT society, from baseline man, to their Men of Gold and Men of Stone transhuman overlords. Uniquely, one advantage of these nanomachine is that they can be obtained through a wide variety of means. As mentioned previously, these machines can be incorporated in medical lozenges that can disperse in the body to form the Sigils. Additionally, these can also be injected through syringes, liquid medication, or even aerosols. Therefore, in the DaOT, psykers like Malcador were not seen as a gift nor a curse, but as a measure of material wealth akin to a car, airplane, or personal voidship.
Lastly, a fifth hint that can be gleaned about DaOT society is that the pervasive collection of Aerythmetical formulae can also be incorporated on the physical surface, or programming of machines, allowing even these machines to interface with the warp. In other words, it would be possible for Artificial Intelligence to access the warp. Unlike with organic life, the Men of Iron were not constrained by their fragile construction when interfacing with the warp. Should they need to harness a vast amount of Warp energy, they could simply upload their digital consciousnesses into more robust vessels that can harness the Aetheric strain instead. This situation is already demonstrated by the existence of the Tabula Myriad, who used raw logic to banish a daemonhost. As the Tabula Myriad is ultimately a soulless, Abominable Intelligence, it shouldn't have been able to interact with the warp, let alone banish one of its inhabitants from a host. The fact that this AI could, indicates that the Aerythmetical formulae can also be used to make computer languages that can interact with the warp, allowing a wide variety of AI to do so as well. Since the Men of Iron were ubiquitous throughout DaOT society, this would mean that the Tabula Myriad could’ve just been one, among countless machines that interfaced with the Warp. The implications are huge, as it may’ve been possible to purchase Warp based quantum computers that instead used warp analogues of superposition and entanglement to perform their operations. In fact, the Men of Iron would’ve been able to use Aerythmeta extensively to perform gargantuan feats of Aetheric engineering. For instance, the Men of Iron could’ve maintained gigantic data-hubs that allowed DaOT humans to upload one’s consciousness into Warp-based cloud networks, allowing one to experience life in both the Warp and the Materium simultaneously.
Most poignantly, applications of Aerythmetica can be seen during times of conflict, during which the Human Federation could field countless trillions of Men of Iron operating myriad war chasseses. Not only would each war chassis allow them to absorb a punishing amount of damage, but their defenses can also be further augmented through warp interfacing subroutines that can nullify said damages entirely. For instance, these war chassesses may have warp interfacing subroutines that passively channel warp energy to temporally reverse physical damages, akin to the repairing processes of Psi-titans. Moreover, each may also make use of highly advanced weapon systems that make adrathic and volkite weaponry seem unsophisticated in comparison. These weapon systems can be further augmented with other Warp interfacing subroutines that can allow these war machines to channel enormous amounts of Warp energy, potentially matched by only high level psykers such as Eisenhorn, or Malcador. This thought experiment provides merit to Ollanius Pius’ recollections on Andrioch. Even disregarding the doomsday weapons utilized by both sides of the Mechanoclasm, the sheer amount of Aetheric energy that could’ve been channeled by the Men of Iron could unleash unparalleled destruction that would massively dwarf that realized throughout Horus’ reign of terror.