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Getting Warhammered - [Chapter 36]
🕑 Added 2023-09-01 21:00:58 +0000 UTC"Oh, you are here," Selene said as she turned her head towards me while a bunch of people were struggling to help her put on her battle armor.
"Mhm," I nodded, "What are you going into battle with?"
"Hopefully nothing," said the Captain as her pauldrons clicked into place, "but you never know, especially since the Magos seemed to have found something interesting."
"And that needs both you and me to handle?"
"Apparently," she shrugged, somehow managing to move the heavy armor like a second skin, "some sort of Xeno ruins under the Hive City which he'd like to explore but he said both of our expertise would be needed to do so."
"Sure," I shrugged, "let's see what got his cables in a twist."
After a rather lengthy walk toward the hangars, we entered a Thunderhawk while two others were getting filled to the brim with Shadows. Sometimes I forgot I was on a spaceship, ehm, voidship as they called them here. Selene's Wanderer was a Firestorm class Frigate that was almost two kilometers in length and 0.3 kilometers abeam at its fins.
These were utterly outlandish numbers for a single starship in my opinion but Frigates were far from the largest ships in this galaxy. If I remember correctly, there was a Merchant ship that was more than ten kilometers in length.
Warhammer fans always won the 'whose fictional universe has the largest ships' competitions and it wasn't even close, the largest star destroyers from Star Wars maxed out at 800 meters. I was of the mind that it couldn't be right, was space combat a dick-measuring contest of whose ship was bigger? Then I remembered that crashing your damned ship into an enemy's was a valid boarding tactic too.
There is no hope and I think I'm hearing the laughter of thirsting gods.
I had to admit that boarding made for much better entertainment than trying to hit each other with railguns and missiles when the ships were kilometers apart and only the sensors could pick up on their locations. I wasn't sure if fate was fucking with this universe so it'd be that way or if people were just mentally defunct.
While I was judging the questionable mental capabilities of everyone in this galaxy I strapped myself into a seat right beside Selene, we were sitting right behind the pilots with a clear view out of the Thunderhawk. Just the fact Selene had three of these spoke of how influential she must be back in the Imperium, Thunderhawks were the primary landing crafts of the Adeptus Astartes and were armored and armed with all they'd need to fulfill that role even the most hectic battlefields.
The Shadows seemed a bit lacking in comparison, especially with the ceiling of the compartments being at three meters to accommodate the larger space marines in full powerarmor. I'd seen how good these soldiers were and they were good, not sure if elite level but beyond most guardsmen for sure, not that that was too hard, to be honest.
The engine roared to life and I felt the Machine Spirit bubble in excitement, I just came to view these enigmatic spirits as some sort of AI animals, like the ones you could feed on your phone and such. They had information and computational capabilities well beyond a human but their intelligence, while varied, never went beyond a dog's.
The one in my plasma pistol for example was dumb as a brick, it lacked even the computational ability as it was, as said, a pistol. I had to spray it with oil and light incense to it so the spirit wouldn't make a fuss like these moronic tech-priests but even then I had to ask one of them to go through a ritual as it was still being fussy.
At first, I just strongarmed the little shit into not sabotaging my pistol but it was stubborn and unrelenting, I even tore it off and threw it into space but it somehow returned the next day and my pistol wouldn't work.
I am so getting a non-human weapon, fuck this.
Shooting plasma was cool and all but chanting a damned user's manual every week and lighting incense was decidedly not. Because that's what these shitty rituals were, they were parts of a user's manual sprinkled in between praises for the Machine God, its avatar the Omnissiah, and the Motive Force that gave life to the machines, the holy Trinity of the Mechanicus.
The dumb machine spirit didn't understand that I could do the damned weapon maintenance without the chanting and incense. In return, even though the pistol should have melted in my hand every time I fired it, instead I only had to discharge the overheating. Weird warp fuckery at its finest.
I felt myself melt into the seat as the ship accelerated to three Gs in less than ten seconds, I grinned, I always loved sports cars and every crazy ride in an amusement park. We left the voidship behind us with the other two landingcrafts following behind us and I took the opportunity to take in the derelict appearance of Follax 4.
The planet was a mix of grey and brown, dark smog covering most of the planet in eternal darkness but where the smog gave way the dead dirt of the planet was revealed. Not a single spot of greenery remained on the planet and the few holdouts of water weren't the blue I associated with oceans but a sick mix of brown and black, preserving nature and not dumping your waste into the ocean wasn't a thing in the Imperium.
I felt the hull shake as we broke into the atmosphere, a coat of fire covered the windshield and the pilots had to rely on a combination of gut feelings and sensor systems. Moments later the flames abated and we passed into the upper atmosphere, a sea of grey smog beneath us and the darkness of space above us, an in-between that separated the two worlds.
The Thunderhawks dived into the dark clouds fearlessly and the complicated sensor arrays helped the pilots orient themselves without a problem. When we exited the clouds, we saw the Hive City expand below us towards the horizon and beyond.
The three landing crafts landed on the top of a rather short building, the area clearly marked out as a place designed for such. I let the seatbelt go and got to my feet, stretching a bit before heading towards the back where the ship opened up.
The Shadows in our ship were already out in the open and separating into squads, I took a deep breath and was not surprised to breathe in the equivalent of dust and smog. This planet's ecosphere was fucked beyond, it'd need thousands of years before nature reclaimed it without any human coming in to destroy it all again.
Selene ambled out of the ship behind me, a squad of Shadows forming up around her as she did so like the protective little doggies they were. I noted that said squad was armed to the teeth with melta weapons and flamers, did I scare the poor woman too much? Or is she thinking about making me 'die in an accident'?
Unfortunately for the captain, she barely saw a glimpse into my powers. If she wanted to take me down as I was now she'd have to use something harder-hitting than those.
I walked with a spring in my steps towards the edge of the building, sitting down on the edge and kicking my legs back and forth as I stared down into the darkness. My enhanced sight, now capable of penetrating the kilometers of darkness and smoke.
I think I've read somewhere that this city was built upon prayers and miracles, some sort of foundation myth dating back many centuries. Now that I'm seeing the haphazard foundations here it might not be far from the truth.
I frowned as I felt a ripple going through the Warp, in an instant I became alert and sprang to my feet as I sunk into my esoteric sense.
"Motherfuc-" the ripple was followed by a tsunami as reality screamed and tore apart.
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A few minutes ago on the Wanderer. || Vesper Harken, Void-Master and Vice-Captain of the Wanderer
Vesper sat on the command throne, his purple eyes vigilantly overlooking the dozens of officers diligently working beyond him. Two mechadendrites(mechanical tendrils the admech use) were connected onto his torso, merging his consciousness with that of the Wanderer and showing him everything the sensors saw at once.
A lesser man would have his brains dripping through their noses and their eyes melting at the overwhelming amount of information but Vesper has been the Void-Master of this ship since Selene's parents took control of this ship two centuries ago.
By now he was sure he'd be mistaken for a tech priest with all the cybernetics that adorned his body but it was inevitable, even with the rejuvenation treatment he managed to afford his body was failing him. He wasn't a noble or especially wealthy so he could only afford the cheapest treatments and that combined with his advanced age and how much he hounded his own body, it was inevitable that he'd turn to cybernetics.
The little girl who fancied herself a Captain just because she served fifteen years in the Guard and was the only one of the heirs to survive said debacle was down on the planet, leaving Vesper to look over the ship in her absence.
"Vice Captain," one of the officers alerted him, "Incoming Vox transmission from Lord Navigator Follanx."
"Put it on," Vesper ordered, already fed up with having to deal with another stuck-up ass.
The Vox cracked, static coming through before it gave way to the frantic voice of the Navigator.
"IT'S COMING," his voice cracked, somewhere between sobbing and paralyzed dread, "I SEE IT COMING TOWARDS US, CLAWS, EYES, MAWS IN THE SHADOW, THEY WANT US, THEY ARE COMING."
"What are you talking about Lord Aaron?" Vesper's hold tightened on the arm of the command throne, if the damned Navigator went mad now they'd be stuck here forever.
"THE DEVOURER, IT'S COMING TO EAT US ALL," he heard a crack on the other end, flesh striking metal and the metal giving way with a sickening screech, "WE NEED TO LEAVE RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"
"Lord Navigator, we are in the middle of a system and the Captain is down on the planet," Vesper tried to explain, "please calm down and explain what is going on."
Despite his words, Vesper had a hunch, a hunch he desperately wished wasn't true as if it was he'd have an impossible choice to make.
"I KNOW WHAT THEY ARE, THE INQUISITOR TOLD ME, TOLD US, TYRANIDS, COMING TO EAT US, WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW, ENGAGE THE WARP DRIVE OR WE ARE GOING TO DIE."
"Fuck," Vesper muttered, "how long do we have?"
"I do not know," the Navigator blessedly calmed down a bit, "my precognition is weak and uncontrollable but it's only ever been triggered this hard when my life was in immediate danger, I think we have a few minutes at most."
Vesper's thoughts spun, his cogitators calculated and his Mind Impulse Unit connecting him to the Machine Spirit of the Wanderer gave him enough computation that he could have all the relative time to think that he'd need.
This could be my chance to step out of the shadow of that child.
"Get ready to record a message and send it to the Captain," he said not a second of real time later, "Engage the Warp-Drive right after the message is sent, we are getting out of here."
Comments
Duke of Coffee
It is not Warhammer without treacherous backstabbing. Sigh...
Hyperion
Oof. That hurts.
