Uh... hi everybody? It's been a while, hasn't it?
Er-hem. So one of the big reasons I wasn't updating my stories was that both of our computers died hard and took my files down with them. It took a few years, but we finally recently recovered our old files. Reading through my stuff... man I wasn't that great of a writer
Honestly, I could've done better. For reference, it's here.
So here goes... more or less a full from-scratch re-plot and re-write. Some of the characters will be the same. Others won't.
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+++ INTERROGATION RECORD BEGINS TIME MARK 33:45 +++
Q: Tell me, Sarkan, again. Do you truly have no memory that you can recall for the loss of your Engine?
A: Truly. I swear on the great Omnissiah, it happened so quickly. I was concerned with monitoring our primary feeds to the plasma blastgun, and then the Engine shook hard, as though we were struck by a chain-fist or some contrivance. I attempted to link with Princeps Harq immediately, but before I could complete the appropriate rite, the Engine’s spirit screamed, and we fell.
Q: Is that all?
A: Yes. I remember nothing more until the lifter crew cracked the hull and found me. I would be happy to assist—
Q: You will assist nothing. The Engine is fallen, and you failed in your duty. <binaric cant>
A: No! No! I am a believer-- <Enginseer-Prime Sarkan’s voice is cut off at this point>
Q: Sarkan, Adept of the Machine Cult, has been remanded to the Servitor Manufactorum. His knowledge and capabilities shall serve the Omnissiah in a new capacity. Praise the Deus Mechanicum.
+++ INTERROGATION RECORD ENDS TIME MARK 41:13 +++
+++ NARRATION OF ADEPT WISNER +++
--Testing, one, two, three. Thank you, Recorder, for your service. Ahem. This is Adept Carkhan Wisner, narrating what data I have been able to recover from the gun-cameras of Engine Carthas Maximus, Warlord Class, Geryon Pattern, Legio High Crusaders, lost in engagement Thirty-Six Beta on Sequs II versus the greenskin.
--Initial gun-camera pict and sensori impressions are typical of greenskin engagement. Filthy xeno animals all over the place, various small contraptions. Carthas Maximus’ point-defense systems and the Skitarii corps are sufficient to deal with these. The Engine continues walking with two Warhounds of its Legio to scan for greenskin engine-analogs. Five are spotted near a large ridge dotted with greenskin manufactoria, apparently under construction.
--Princeps Harq orders a long-range volley. One greenskin engine destroyed. Engine kill. Two ignite their reactors and begin walking. One attempts to ignite and detonates instead, engine self-destruct. All glory to the Omnissiah for not permitting corrupted machines to exist. Final greenskin engine ignites and walks.
--Princeps Harq commands the two Warhounds, I cannot note their names but one Princeps was Ersten, to flank the three walking greenskin engines while he opens up at range. It is almost immediately after this command, roughly two minutes forty-two seconds, that severe flaws appear in the sensori logs. Static, data corruption, scrapcode. It does not seem to conform to typical greenskin pattern scrapcode. This may bear investigation.
--At mark 5 hours, 33 minutes and 17 seconds, sensori log functions are partially restored. Cockpit audio has been recovered that details Princeps Harq canting hard at his Moderati. Cant follows—
<Holger! Holger! Reset the sensori console! Pull the—damn it, man, pull the lever there—yes! What—Deus, that’s enormous! Where did that come from? Give me a solution on it immediately!>
--Targeting solution is transmitted within .3 minutes to the Manifold. Sensori data are conflicting. A large unknown mass, Engine size, is moving rapidly across the battlefield. It cripples the greenskin obscenities and pauses. Princeps Harq cants firing solution to the Warhounds and all three Engines lock guns. A rapid cant is broadcast in the open towards the unknown opponent, requesting identification, allegiance, and submission. There is no response.
--Princeps Harq commands full volley. Fire explodes against massive void-shield analog projected in front of unknown mass. It extends in height, becomes more discrete, vague humanoid shape. Gun-camera picter view is still corrupted, cannot clean up more adequately with current data-tech. Request for higher capacity cogitator equipment inloaded.
--Point six three minutes after initial volley, unknown mass—tentative conclusion is some kind of alien Engine—rushes forward and destroys Warhound One. It then hits the second Warhound with the remains of Warhound One. Both Scout Titans explode as their reactors revolt against this abuse. Alien Engine stands again and rushes Carthas Maximus.
--Carthas Maximus suffers extreme damage. Both gun arms torn off, void shields destroyed, missile launchers destroyed, carapace guns destroyed, 94% destruction of upper carapace plating. Bridge unit is torn off entirely. Princeps Harq’s amniotic tank is missing from remains of Titan. Only survivor recovered is Adept Sarkan, Enginseer, severely damaged and incoherent.
--Conclusion: Orkish engines destroyed. The Skitarii completed the engagement with victory, though losses were severe at around 46 percent. I have minimal other input on the rest of the engagement, as that’s not my concern at this moment. I will commence further research through data-bank lineages to recover any congruent data upon the unknown alien engine. Possibly Eldar abomination. Certainly xenos. We have no holy Engines capable of such movement, and as such cannot conclude at this time that it was an agent of the Great Enemy. Obviously, not Orkish, nor Tyranid, as no known tendrils of the Devourer are near the Sequs system. Inload ends.
+++ NARRATION ENDS +++
+++ UNKNOWN LOCATION +++
The walls aren’t stone. They’re hard, but they aren’t stone. They resemble, if anything, polished ivory or bone. A tall figure, wreathed in a dark cloak and leaning upon a thick staff emblazoned with softly glowing runes, picks its way along the dark corridor, the only light illuminating its path coming from a glittering stone hovering over its head. Momentarily, the figure reaches out and leans against the wall. Its hand is an intricately assembled linkage of bone parts, ornately inscribed and subtly plated to resemble wraithbone armour.
A murmured word, and an arch reveals itself where it was previously unseen in the darkness. The cloaked figure passes through it into a large chamber where a massive, gaunt chassis rests upon a stone throne sized for it, twice or three times the height of a human being. A monstrous sword leans against the throne by the bone-wrought giant’s hand, wickedly curved, glittering metal unlike almost everything else.
With a wave of its hand, the cloaked personage sends icy-bright runes skittering about the chamber. Whispers fill the air, stones embedded in the wall begin glowing, and its hood comes down to reveal a tall helmet covered with intricate figures, bright green crystal eyes shining beneath its brows. Whoever it is, they let go of the staff, and it remains standing as they open their hands and spread their arms.
The fingers of the great construct upon the throne twitch. A grumble fills the air, and the blank visage of its massive head tips down to look at the smaller figure before it.
“Anath.”
“Rhaedgar. Are you fit?”
“I was dreaming.”
“Yes. We have things to do. Great things.”
“I have had enough of your great things, Anath. The paths of Infinity are quiet. Let me rest.”
“No. This is important. Rhaedgar, we found her.”
A pregnant pause. The great wraithbone figure slowly leans forward, scrutinizing the other, as the runes fizzle out in the air, letting darkness roll back into the chamber. Soon the only light is the glow from the crystal eyes of Anath’s helmet, and the glitter of the spirit-stones in the walls. In the half-light the massive visage of Rhaedgar’s helmet slowly turns away.
Anath takes hold of the rune-staff, turns and strides out of the chamber into the dark hallway. The wraithbone linkages of Rhaedgar’s hand protest gently as he flexes his fingers and reaches out for the grip of his sword. A tip of his head suggests that he is listening to the whispers in the air.
