Planet Hunt (WH40k)
Posted: 2007-05-25 09:42am
Behold, the mutation of what would have been the draft of the script for my submission to the BL planet kill contest. It wouldn't have had a chance, but tis a pity I didn't have time to submit it. Oh well, here it is in its rough-shod "glory".
Planet Hunt (40k)
The rogue Astartes Strike cruiser "Blood-fin" sailed through space, its hull blood-red and pitted despite the immense void shields covering it and the meters of thick Adamantium armouring lining its hull.
Captain Feilzeus strode through the corridors of the ship, his steps echoing thought its corridors. He strode to a room (Number 6) and after it failed to open, entered an override code into it's control panel , then entered the room.
The Cell's occupant was sitting, his arms and legs crossed and a halo almost visible around his head.
"Brother Librarian Gerus!"
"Yes Brother Captain?".
"Your miserable Acolyte has been found summoning a Daemon! He used one of the servitors and gave the daemon form out of it's flesh".
"SO he has been busy" Said the Librarian a faint smile passing on his face.
"Yes" replied Feilzeus, "But the fool summoned some foul thing of Slaanesh's not an exalted servant of The Blood God".
The Librarian's face twisted as his face hardened, his ascension from the floor to the door was so fast that Even Merus barely saw him move.
"Have you prepared him for punishment?" - Asked the Librarian as he strode down the corridor guided by unerring instincts,"Of course" said Feilzeus.
"We were just waiting for you. You have the most at stake here after all and I still owe you a debt over that miserable Ork".
"I shall consider your debt repaid after this" Said Gerus, his face hardening even further as he strode at a pace that for a human would be a sprint, yet was a steady pace for one of the Arbites.
(Former) Acolyte Gartarus Vatong sat inside his energy bar sealed prison cell and mused on his impending, violent & probably drawn out death. (And how to avoid or mitigate it of course).
The most feasible solution would be to claim gross incompetence resulting in the mis-summoned daemon, resulting in merely his execution as a hazard and fool. (The captain barely tolerated psykers, considering them weaklings before the blood god, but recognized their value, especially when heads needed popping).
This would be better than the drawn out interrogation & torture precluding the hideous fate that would await him should his real motives for summoning a Daemon not of Korn's slaves, but was still not a highly desirable option (for obvious reasons).
The alternative was to board a ramming torpedo and to flee for one of the nearby planets, hoping that the effort required for scouring a planet after a single man would be too wearisome for the blood-lusting crew and the captain, leaving him to rot baring the faint chance of "rescue". This would require overpowering or otherwise dealing with the burly but idiotic warp-warped "guards" that stood watch over him (Izelfein and Blorg as they were known) and to do so before his "master" arrived.
"Blorg weak!"
Blorg's tentacle mounted eye whipped around to examine the black, bubbly pustule filled mass that was Izelfein's head. Blorg's head was that of a human, barring his single tentacle mounted eye and the fact that his tongue had a small head on its tip (which tended to speak in the third person).
"Izelfein is weaker than Blorg. Blorg true warrior and head-taker. Blorg has taken the scalps of a hundred Green-skins, and Blorg ready to prove that him better that puss-face!"
A particularly large boil on Izelfein popped, releasing a stream of words as it did so.
"YouAreAnIdiot.IAmStrongerAndTheMoreSkilled,IShallProveItOnceOurWatchOverThisLittleFoolIsOver!"
Blorg's face reddened.
Gartarus spoke up, his voice a soft warm thing, oozing like honey over heated wax:
"Great warriors, it is a shame to see two of the Blood God's finest unable to kill or to show their mettle. A proposal: Rather than wasting your hands on each other and risking my escape, perhaps you could test your prowess alternatively by bashing my head in alternatively and judging each other on technique and brutality?"
Blorg's tentacle whipped up and down as he contemplated this. Finally he nodded.
"Blorg shall prove so now on puny head poppy prisoner, captain not care if the runt squished! He say so enough time when Blorg drink mess from training halls".
Another black pustule popped then another from what might have been Izelfein's "chin":
"AnExcellentIdea. Blorg,DisableTheEnergyFieldAndYouMayTakeTheFirstTurnAtPoundingTheWhelp'sHeadIntoAMushyOintment. AnyAcolyteShouldSurviveAtLeastOneMildInjuryOfThatSort,NoMatterHowDegenerateTheyAre".
Blorg obeyed, entering a 30 second disable code into the control pad that maintained the energy barrier that lined the cell. And kept its occupant's mind chained.
Blorg froze, even his tentacle remaining motionless in mid-dip. Izelfein did not notice this and stalked into the cell, towering in his armour above Gartarus.
He raised a postule laced, armour sheathed gauntlet and swung it towards the unmoving (even grinning) face of the psyker. His hand stopped an inch from Gartarus's smiling mouth, then began to slowly pull backwards, against its owners evident (if insufficient) will.
"Idiots. Morons. Pawns! The cage was to keep my mind trapped, not my body. Never send a pair of disciplinary idiots to do a guards work. Now, lock yourselves into my cage and, oh, peel your skins off until the captain arrives with something worse in mind for you".
The two beings shuffled into the cell while Gartarus set off in a rapid run towards the closest of the ship's boarding torpedoes, mere servitors would not hinder him (especially if his clearance had not been updated in their bulbous heads) and he had the piloting knowledge and experience that had once been Izelfein's (and were now his, leaving a seeping hole in the mind of Izelfein).
Planet Hunt (40k)
The rogue Astartes Strike cruiser "Blood-fin" sailed through space, its hull blood-red and pitted despite the immense void shields covering it and the meters of thick Adamantium armouring lining its hull.
Captain Feilzeus strode through the corridors of the ship, his steps echoing thought its corridors. He strode to a room (Number 6) and after it failed to open, entered an override code into it's control panel , then entered the room.
The Cell's occupant was sitting, his arms and legs crossed and a halo almost visible around his head.
"Brother Librarian Gerus!"
"Yes Brother Captain?".
"Your miserable Acolyte has been found summoning a Daemon! He used one of the servitors and gave the daemon form out of it's flesh".
"SO he has been busy" Said the Librarian a faint smile passing on his face.
"Yes" replied Feilzeus, "But the fool summoned some foul thing of Slaanesh's not an exalted servant of The Blood God".
The Librarian's face twisted as his face hardened, his ascension from the floor to the door was so fast that Even Merus barely saw him move.
"Have you prepared him for punishment?" - Asked the Librarian as he strode down the corridor guided by unerring instincts,"Of course" said Feilzeus.
"We were just waiting for you. You have the most at stake here after all and I still owe you a debt over that miserable Ork".
"I shall consider your debt repaid after this" Said Gerus, his face hardening even further as he strode at a pace that for a human would be a sprint, yet was a steady pace for one of the Arbites.
(Former) Acolyte Gartarus Vatong sat inside his energy bar sealed prison cell and mused on his impending, violent & probably drawn out death. (And how to avoid or mitigate it of course).
The most feasible solution would be to claim gross incompetence resulting in the mis-summoned daemon, resulting in merely his execution as a hazard and fool. (The captain barely tolerated psykers, considering them weaklings before the blood god, but recognized their value, especially when heads needed popping).
This would be better than the drawn out interrogation & torture precluding the hideous fate that would await him should his real motives for summoning a Daemon not of Korn's slaves, but was still not a highly desirable option (for obvious reasons).
The alternative was to board a ramming torpedo and to flee for one of the nearby planets, hoping that the effort required for scouring a planet after a single man would be too wearisome for the blood-lusting crew and the captain, leaving him to rot baring the faint chance of "rescue". This would require overpowering or otherwise dealing with the burly but idiotic warp-warped "guards" that stood watch over him (Izelfein and Blorg as they were known) and to do so before his "master" arrived.
"Blorg weak!"
Blorg's tentacle mounted eye whipped around to examine the black, bubbly pustule filled mass that was Izelfein's head. Blorg's head was that of a human, barring his single tentacle mounted eye and the fact that his tongue had a small head on its tip (which tended to speak in the third person).
"Izelfein is weaker than Blorg. Blorg true warrior and head-taker. Blorg has taken the scalps of a hundred Green-skins, and Blorg ready to prove that him better that puss-face!"
A particularly large boil on Izelfein popped, releasing a stream of words as it did so.
"YouAreAnIdiot.IAmStrongerAndTheMoreSkilled,IShallProveItOnceOurWatchOverThisLittleFoolIsOver!"
Blorg's face reddened.
Gartarus spoke up, his voice a soft warm thing, oozing like honey over heated wax:
"Great warriors, it is a shame to see two of the Blood God's finest unable to kill or to show their mettle. A proposal: Rather than wasting your hands on each other and risking my escape, perhaps you could test your prowess alternatively by bashing my head in alternatively and judging each other on technique and brutality?"
Blorg's tentacle whipped up and down as he contemplated this. Finally he nodded.
"Blorg shall prove so now on puny head poppy prisoner, captain not care if the runt squished! He say so enough time when Blorg drink mess from training halls".
Another black pustule popped then another from what might have been Izelfein's "chin":
"AnExcellentIdea. Blorg,DisableTheEnergyFieldAndYouMayTakeTheFirstTurnAtPoundingTheWhelp'sHeadIntoAMushyOintment. AnyAcolyteShouldSurviveAtLeastOneMildInjuryOfThatSort,NoMatterHowDegenerateTheyAre".
Blorg obeyed, entering a 30 second disable code into the control pad that maintained the energy barrier that lined the cell. And kept its occupant's mind chained.
Blorg froze, even his tentacle remaining motionless in mid-dip. Izelfein did not notice this and stalked into the cell, towering in his armour above Gartarus.
He raised a postule laced, armour sheathed gauntlet and swung it towards the unmoving (even grinning) face of the psyker. His hand stopped an inch from Gartarus's smiling mouth, then began to slowly pull backwards, against its owners evident (if insufficient) will.
"Idiots. Morons. Pawns! The cage was to keep my mind trapped, not my body. Never send a pair of disciplinary idiots to do a guards work. Now, lock yourselves into my cage and, oh, peel your skins off until the captain arrives with something worse in mind for you".
The two beings shuffled into the cell while Gartarus set off in a rapid run towards the closest of the ship's boarding torpedoes, mere servitors would not hinder him (especially if his clearance had not been updated in their bulbous heads) and he had the piloting knowledge and experience that had once been Izelfein's (and were now his, leaving a seeping hole in the mind of Izelfein).