"Can't say I have" Crom whispered. Despite the fact that he could easily speak in a normal tone, it did not seem fitting. It was almost as there was something he didn't want to wake up.White Haven wrote:As he registers Crom's presence, the huddled psyker twitches and briefly reaches for the hilt of the rapier hanging from the weapon belt that itself hangs from a coat-hook on the wall. With a sheepish look, he withdraws it and swings his legs off the edge of the bunk, speaking as he rises to his feet.
"Have you ever had a nightmare? A real one, I mean, not just dreaming that you walked into a chapel naked?" Ajax replies with a seeming non-sequitor.
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Sparing a brief shrug for the Mechanicus, Ajax looks back to Crom and pulls a dry smile, "Well then, so much for that explanation. Let me sum up, then...the only way to get between stars is to travel through the source of all heresy. Welcome to the Warp."
Ajax pauses theatrically, and then shouts, "Boo!"
Ajax pauses theatrically, and then shouts, "Boo!"
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Completely unperturbed by the psykers understandably unusual sense of humor, the Techpriest glanced to see who was entering the chamber, then riposted. "Nonsense. The gellar fields of this craft keep us separate from the warp even as the warp engines plow a path through this forsaken realm." While he spoke, he gestured at a nearby miniature lecturn, slowly dimming the lighting in the 'stateroom.' "Still, strange things have been known to occur during warp transit. Shipsyards have found find teeth and claw marks from creatures...or fell daemons..., larger than battleships, etched into adamantine hull. Strange creatures will appear, festering in the hidden corners of the vessel, ready to leap upon unvigilant crew and passengers. It is said that even mighty Titans grow restless while they slumber through their transit."
"So, we're travelling through monster-land" Crom summerized.
"Strange creatures will appear, festering in the hidden corners of the vessel, ready to leap upon unvigilant crew and passengers."
Crom's pulse quickened.
"I'll be in my bunk." he muttered as he twirled around and retired to his quarters.
"Strange creatures will appear, festering in the hidden corners of the vessel, ready to leap upon unvigilant crew and passengers."
Crom's pulse quickened.
"I'll be in my bunk." he muttered as he twirled around and retired to his quarters.
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As Crom slipped into the bunk, there was a resounding bang that shook the deck… Outside the door, was cursing, and a man in a flak vest pushed it open, holding a shotgun, as another bang echoed around the room. He seemed to be worried, and tapped his forehead before making the sound of the Aquila. “Anyone been out of here lately?” the black, smoke stained armsman asked, pulling his goggles up onto his forehead, and a dust mask down around his neck. His face seemed shaken, though his comrade, a short woman behind him with a mace, seemed relaxed; clearly, he’d not made the noise, despite having knocked upon the door.
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At the loud noise and the abrupt opening of the cabin hatch, Ajax makes a grab for his weapon belt again, the standard-pattern laspistol holstered in it fitting his hand. As the intrusion conspicuously fails to turn into an attack, he leaves the weapon in its holster, but he does stand and quickly dons his belt and trenchcoat as he replies, "Not I. What's going on, ravening hordes of the Warp, or just engine troubles?"
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The armsman looks at the psyker, "Just a noise, friend. Best not to think too much about it..." as he's decided none will likely attack him, he takes a hip flask, and swigs from it, seeming calmer, a moment later...
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Darien wakes up and joins others standing in the room, looking around bleary-eyed and clad only in his uniform pants. Awkwardly shrugging into his armored vest while holding a scabbarded shotgun in his free hand, he eyes the smoke-stained armsman, then the armsman's flask.
"This can't be good. I hate space travel."
"This can't be good. I hate space travel."
Mercurius eyed the newcommers with a mix of curiosity and caution, then eased his grip on his lascarbine, letting the sling around his shoulder carry enough of the weight to appear relaxed and casual. "It may be just a noise now, but it could still end up being a problem. Tell us, what troubles you."
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Crom was not taking this news as well as his fellows.
"Oh yeah, I bet it's just a noise." he said sarcastically. "Which is of course why our friend seemed so very calm."
Upon further reflection, he decided he might as well make some money off of the situation.
"5 crowns on unpleasantness proceeding inevitable violence! Any takers?" he quieried loudly.
He turned to Eli.
"Eli my friend, could you explain to me in Hive-world dummy terms what the room the noise came from does, why a noise might come from it, and how often this happens when travelling through Monsterland?"
"Oh yeah, I bet it's just a noise." he said sarcastically. "Which is of course why our friend seemed so very calm."
Upon further reflection, he decided he might as well make some money off of the situation.
"5 crowns on unpleasantness proceeding inevitable violence! Any takers?" he quieried loudly.
He turned to Eli.
"Eli my friend, could you explain to me in Hive-world dummy terms what the room the noise came from does, why a noise might come from it, and how often this happens when travelling through Monsterland?"
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The armsman shrugged, closed the door, and ambled off, and, a few moments later, fluent spaceman's cursing could be heard outside...
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Sitting on the floor outside, was the guard.
Standing above him, looking threatening, was the armswoman.
"Nothing to worry about," she said, "vacmind here just tripped up. Grav-shift."
Standing above him, looking threatening, was the armswoman.
"Nothing to worry about," she said, "vacmind here just tripped up. Grav-shift."
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"Don't think so," she said, "Probably a two day job. Emperor," she pronounced it as Emp-roar, "Protects!"
And with that, the rest of the 'night' proceeded uneventfully, until another set of loud bangs, these, the tollings of the great bell and the shuddering moanings of the great ship's frame under stresses none but shipwrights understood, heralded the return to true space...
And with that, the rest of the 'night' proceeded uneventfully, until another set of loud bangs, these, the tollings of the great bell and the shuddering moanings of the great ship's frame under stresses none but shipwrights understood, heralded the return to true space...
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At the second set of bangs and shimmies, Ajax scrambles up from his bunk where he'd been dozing fully dressed. A frown passes over his face as he mentally marks time, "Positioning stop, or are we already there..." he comments to himself, glancing at the cabin hatch.
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"Mmm. Didn't like monsterland a great deal. Makes a man's thoughts go where they oughtn't. The fact that you dive into such a place to muck around with the laws of the 'verse don't inspire vast amounts confidence within my mind."
He called out to no-one in particular "So, are we hitting dirt anytime soon? The more pride-breaking events of the evening has left me with a strong desire to get myself killed in a blaze of heroism. Or jump out of an airlock. Whichever is more masculine."
He called out to no-one in particular "So, are we hitting dirt anytime soon? The more pride-breaking events of the evening has left me with a strong desire to get myself killed in a blaze of heroism. Or jump out of an airlock. Whichever is more masculine."
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Chapter 1:
Askelphion Secundus
The porthole looked out upon a small empty room beyond, between which, were wide archways that looked out upon the stars, though they seemed somehow distorted. The Kestrel soon, a few hours this way or that, pulled into orbit of the planet Askelphion Secundus, at which point her passengers could see the planet.
It was probably the most beautiful sight they had seen, and few would be in any doubt that Holy Terra once looked like it, brilliant blue oceans, green, verdant lands, bright white poles, and brilliant shining white clouds. On its night side, dots of light displayed the locales of small towns and cities, pleasantly spaced.
The procession of Lucritius Tybalt hoved into view, the door swinging open at their approach thanks to a youthful, scrubbed-clean boy, whose task appeared to consist solely of opening doors, “Friends!” the officer said from his litter, “In token of our regret for maltreating your vessel earlier, the noble captain of this vessel has appointed you to be first to depart the Kestrel before we dock at Lord Maravon’s Dock, that you may be convinienced. If you wish, I invite you to depart…
Askelphion Secundus
The porthole looked out upon a small empty room beyond, between which, were wide archways that looked out upon the stars, though they seemed somehow distorted. The Kestrel soon, a few hours this way or that, pulled into orbit of the planet Askelphion Secundus, at which point her passengers could see the planet.
It was probably the most beautiful sight they had seen, and few would be in any doubt that Holy Terra once looked like it, brilliant blue oceans, green, verdant lands, bright white poles, and brilliant shining white clouds. On its night side, dots of light displayed the locales of small towns and cities, pleasantly spaced.
The procession of Lucritius Tybalt hoved into view, the door swinging open at their approach thanks to a youthful, scrubbed-clean boy, whose task appeared to consist solely of opening doors, “Friends!” the officer said from his litter, “In token of our regret for maltreating your vessel earlier, the noble captain of this vessel has appointed you to be first to depart the Kestrel before we dock at Lord Maravon’s Dock, that you may be convinienced. If you wish, I invite you to depart…
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Having gotten more fully-dressed, with his armor vest concealed under a bodyglove, Darien nods his appreciation and rises to his feet.
Bowing politely, he says, "My thanks for the courtesy, sir, and my compliments for a fast trip."
Hefting his bag in his right hand, with the stock of his scabbarded shotgun poking up over his left shoulder for convenient drawing, he heads for the launch bay.
Bowing politely, he says, "My thanks for the courtesy, sir, and my compliments for a fast trip."
Hefting his bag in his right hand, with the stock of his scabbarded shotgun poking up over his left shoulder for convenient drawing, he heads for the launch bay.
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Suspicion. It's a survival trait that anyone learns in this day and age, and that goes quintuple for a psyker trying to survive in a world built around the hatred of witches. Ajax turns away from the porthole after a long visual drink from the planet below and comments in a dry tone, "If it looks that good from this high up, it's bound to be an absolute sewer on the ground. This should be fun." He gathers his belongings together, belting on his armaments beneath his trench-coat, and then turns as the nearby hatch opens to reveal their immediate host. He quickly masks a frown at the proposed early dropoff, but the memory of the swarm of oddly-clad figures swamping the hangar earlier dissuades from from making an issue of it. Instead, he simply inclines his head and replies, "As you say," before following the Arbites towards the bay.
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Fiction!: The Final War (Bolo/Lovecraft) (Ch 7 9/15/11), Living (D&D, Complete)
Slowing his strides slightly to let Ajax catch up to him, Darien glances around to be sure they won't be overheard, then mutters, "I figure they want us off the ship before we decide they're all heretics or xenos and start shooting them for crimes against the Imperium. Alternately, they want us off the ship first because they've seen our pilot in action and want to be sure the other travellers are safely behind us."
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Eli walks twords the bay, quietly mumbling prayers of contrition, hopefully the machine will trust him again. the shiny face the crew were putting on, was not fully concealing their desire to get this particular cargo off thier vessel...
on the bright side, a planetary landing was a slower, much bigger target then the launch bay of a starship already underway.
of course the fires of judgement awaited him as soon as they hit the world's soul. (re-entry), would the planet and machine kill them this time?
on the bright side, a planetary landing was a slower, much bigger target then the launch bay of a starship already underway.
of course the fires of judgement awaited him as soon as they hit the world's soul. (re-entry), would the planet and machine kill them this time?
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This time, the shuttle ride goes quite well, evidently, the attention has soothed the light vessel’s spirit. That, and the food of reactants it had been fed by its hosts, at any rate. Almost as soon as the smooth takeoff from the Kestrel. As they landed, according to the strictures of the orbital dock, they could see the throb of the planet’s main space port; it was a vast triangular affair, with long runways for large long-takeoff vehicles, around which, landing pads and lesser strips juggled for space with a series of vast cathedrals carved out of shimmering silver-white granite.
An allocated pad near to one of the cathedrals gives a good view of its colossal flying buttresses and shining backlit stained glass windows. This piety surrounds the star port, in places that one would normally expect warehouses, and there is another distinguishing feature; the city uphill from the landing area, to which a horde of pennant bearing helicopters seem to ferry people in endless streams, their rotor blades thrumming deeply.
Around the shuttle, merchentile guilders in gaudy cotton heraldry went about this way and that, holding heavy burdens high, but none approached the acolytes' shuttle unless their attention was demanded forcefully.
At the moment it was disembarked from the shuttle, with a soft chime, the ark that they had been given by the Inquisitor’s agent would unlock itself, sensing the planet’s gravitational field, for which it had been calibrated. Inside, should any open it, was a rack of fifteen slender data slates, each of them in a wooden holder, with a small but robust lamp beside it; one of these was lit…
An allocated pad near to one of the cathedrals gives a good view of its colossal flying buttresses and shining backlit stained glass windows. This piety surrounds the star port, in places that one would normally expect warehouses, and there is another distinguishing feature; the city uphill from the landing area, to which a horde of pennant bearing helicopters seem to ferry people in endless streams, their rotor blades thrumming deeply.
Around the shuttle, merchentile guilders in gaudy cotton heraldry went about this way and that, holding heavy burdens high, but none approached the acolytes' shuttle unless their attention was demanded forcefully.
At the moment it was disembarked from the shuttle, with a soft chime, the ark that they had been given by the Inquisitor’s agent would unlock itself, sensing the planet’s gravitational field, for which it had been calibrated. Inside, should any open it, was a rack of fifteen slender data slates, each of them in a wooden holder, with a small but robust lamp beside it; one of these was lit…
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