"I've been given a rough draft, Rogue Trader.
For now, it is best you continue to do what it is you do, you seem to be meeting with success."
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Once alone, your personal holo receiver, a luxury denied most, flares up and a somewhat distorted image of the lord Mayor appears before you. "Greetings again lord captain, I am gratified you remain safe and achieving successes.
"Thanks to our astropaths being able to find a...they called it a "ghost signal", we've discovered that the order went out about three imperial months ago, meaning someone set this up at the moment the race was even announced." "This was not a spur of the moment thing, nor was the assassin from some personal retinue, as they would have already been here far ahead of yourself."
Holt remains impassive, rigid, inflexible.
-------------------------------------------------- Main Bridge --------------------------------------------------- "Lord captain, we've received a transmission from the lord mayor.
There is the sound of slow clapping coming from behind.
One is Solonius, the other one is Havelock Munz, your High Factorum.
One is a harsh disciplinarian, who holds everyone to his standards (including himself), whereas the other one is constantly smiling at some private (and very morbid) joke. "An inspired choice Lord Captain, Havelock nods, by keeping things vague, but still revealing the truth, you have ensured that not only will the competitions attention be diverted towards the hulk...but they will also be in direct and possibly even violent competition.
Solonius says nothing, standing stiffly at attention, radiating disapproval. Neither of them men could be said to be exactly "liked", but they are certainly respected.
---------------------------------
Holt is looking at the monitor, standing next to Heinrich.
"It was always though to expand beyond the milky way galaxy, but none of my peers ever expected to see it done.
As time passes, there is a market energy that can be felt throughout the ship.
You freed a ship from a space hulk, and are now towing it through the warp!
The fact that your crew has been augmented with a living ancestor though...that is something that was not spread amongst the crew as of yet.
But while the crew had been in high spirits before, thanks to the unusual benevolence of the higher ups (most of them), now they are possibly bristling with good cheer. Perhaps the warp senses that, and that is why the week or so travel time goes by with practically no incidences at all? But once you emerge from the warp above the planet, you are immediately hailed by a barrage of questions, well wishes, cheers and one or two demands from your distinguished "competition".
The next few days are passed in a flurry of activity, shuttles going between the two ships at a near constant rate, and meetings between the senior crew go on for hours. Naturally, while you are all present, a lot of what is going on does tend to fly over the heads of those not specialised in various aspects of the operation.
Iota has managed to collect a good understanding of the systems, and what is needed to optimise them for the coming almost unheard of operation. The lady navigator has taken the time to figure out how to compensate for the extra drag of the two ships being linked. Holt has done his best to facilitate the operation from his end. And then, it happens. The two ships link together, the powerful generator begins to pump power , creating a symbiotic link, allowing the gellar field to extend far beyond it's normal reach. And once the whole things has been stabilised, the warning bells ring out, and both ships transit into the empyrean.
"Not one port would deny resupplies to a ship on a mission like ours.
"Port? If you mean a place the ship calls home, there is none.
Holt turns to look at Iota, his face unseen under his helmet.
"You are the ships master engineer, correct?
"I know only the most basic information.
Holt crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head to one side, seemingly considering something for a moment. "I realise that being so lost...it would perhaps not matter, since this ship is unlikely to posses a map of any lanes in the vicinity..."
Holt turns to Heinrich.
"I know not this "warp" that you speak of. The Scutum Firmum is equipped with an multidimensional engine, capable of accessing the hyper lanes."
With a clear chain of command established, the ceremony of launching the ship begins.
And soon, The Scutum Firmum has been launched and is now floating in formation with The Rising Sun. Perhaps removing the ship from the hulk is what causes what happens next, or perhaps you had a very narrow escape, but with little warning, the hulk once more disappears into the immaterium. You are once more alone in space.
As you enter the bridge, Holt turns to Archibald.
The previously so imperious Holt kneels in front of you and lowers his head.
"Jundi Almawt.
Clearing his throat and straightening up, Hold is once more all business. "Suffice to say, it has occurred to me that we are hopelessly lost, not perhaps just in space but also time.
Joined by the Rogue Trader, you continue down the corridor until you stop in front of what seems to be just a bare wall.
"The blessed seal remains intact, however, this is far too important to be left to chance..." Removing his right gauntlet, he places his palm against the wall for a moment.
Moments later, the wall slides open, revealing a hidden chamber. As you enter, you note that the chamber reminds you of a laboratory, or a medicae hall of some sort.
What Holt seems to be most interested in, however, are the two large glass cylinders in the back of the chamber.
Large human forms, each one easily a good 50% larger than a fully grown adult.
"Jundi Almawt"
As you look closer, something tugs at your perception.
Without breaking stride or looking back, Holt answers.
"You need not strain yourself, the translator will take care of the speech.
Pausing for a moment, he brings out the rifle he secured along with his armour, and racks the slide. "Pray that it remains...unaltered."
There is a moment of silence before you get a reply. "Well lord Captain, according to our scans, there is a planetoid nearby...we could drag the ship there so we could land the Sun and have people disembark.
Meanwhile... Holt has finished dressing up, and he sets off again, confident steps at a rapid pace. He does not appear to be heading towards the bridge...
"Spark" seems to get distorted for a moment before coming back into focus. "Negative...
After a moment, you get connected back to your own ship again. "Let me repeat your orders lord Captain...
You follow Holt as he marches down the corridor, which is now lit, lacking eerie qualities, and has measurable length.
He steps into the room with the statue, and while the lack of oppressive atmosphere outside the room makes the change less noticeable, you can still feel the strong spiritual energy radiating from the room. Before the statue, he stops and bows his head, seemingly in prayer for a moment.
One of those alcoves contains what is clearly a set of power armour, though a lot less bulky than what Astartes or even regular people would wear. Stepping up to it, holt begins to clad himself without hesitation. You note that once again, the ever present sign is firmly etched not only on the breastplate, but also sown into the fabric of the robe that covers the leg area.
--------------------------------------------- Bridge --------------------------------------------- "Calibrating...
A new voice breaks in, though it still seems to originate from "Spark".
[b]"The codes are the Lord Captains personal codes, is that you lord Captain?
------------------------------------------------------------- Generator Room ------------------------------------------------------------ "Compiling request...
----------------------------------------------- Hangar Bay --------------------------------------------- At Heinrich's question, Holt straighten just a little bit, and raises his chin.
High Gothic:
8b]"Mine is the power of a Master Aureum, mine wounds shall trouble mine flesh ONLY as long as I allow it."[/b] After that, he beings to march, with a swift and purpose-filled stride.
You get a feeling the escort is from ceremony rather than purpose.
--------------------------------------- Bridge --------------------------------------- "Several attempts to establish communication has been attempted.
------------------------------------------ Hangar ------------------------------------------- Heinrich blinks, there is something different with what he is seeing, but for a moment his mind cannot quite catch up to what the difference is.
Evidentially, the medicae has also just noticed and with a gasp, takes a step back, hands visible and very much away from Brother Captain Holt. Holt then dismounts the stretcher, evidentially un-bothered by his state of half nakedness. High Gothic: "Mine vessel wilst not launch without a dedicated ships master at yon helm.
Afore such, ceremony needeth be observed, and I lack proper attire and armament. I asketh for an escort to gather what must be gathered."
------------------------------------------------- Bridge ------------------------------------------------- "Your rank of brother Captain could be considered honourable at this point.
------------------------------------------------------- Hangar ------------------------------------------------------- For a moment, Holt's eyes roam around the area, taking in the details of his new surroundings.
High Gothic:
"Prithee, asketh thy medicae to taketh yon hands off mine person." After speaking, he focuses his attention fully on Heinrich. More gothic: "Thy breath hast not stilled, hast the vow been fulfilled?
Walks the beast no more upon my ship?"
_____________________________________________
Archiblad finds himself in the most natural place for a rogue Trader, on the bridge.
Fining what seems to be the Captains chair, he notes again just how...UTILITARIAN it is in comparison to normal imperial craftsmanship. No skulls, aquilas, gilt or anything ornamental.
With most of the systems slowly coming online, there is a familiar hum of electricity coming from the various cogitator looking devices.
_________________________________________________
By now, the place is a hotbed of activity, as you have access to the systems, and "Spark" is proving remarkably useful now that you are able to communicate with it more easily thanks to the language matrix that has been uploaded. "Spark" helpfully informs you that all systems are now at maximum capacity, baring repairs needing to be made in certain sectors. ______________________________________________________________
Heinrich is overseeing the loading of the wounded, and finding it to be done with efficiency. That is, until he suddenly hears the rustle of fabric, a metallic "Tzing" sound, followed by a frightened "Meep" that is quickly silenced. As he turns around, he sees the Brother Captain sitting upright on his stretcher, one hand holding his blade to the throat of the medicae that was in the process of securing him. Heinrich brain helpfully informs him that the Brother Captain isn't even SUPPOSED to HAVE the blade, since it was still with the Rogue Trader.
Several things happens at once.
Archibald's command to find the brother-captain is soon answered.
In addition, in the middle of the room, the friendly virtual assistant, human to computer interface, appears.
In addition, your vox systems is almost overloaded with simultaneous reports from your various outposts, all reporting a sudden break in hostilities, as the enemy units seems to all but disintegrate all of a sudden.
It's blood, it's brutal, and it's not nearly as pretty or dramatic as Archibald probably would have liked, but it works.
And when Archibald does hoist it high, it's meet with deafening cheers that echo through the room and bounce of the walls. Maybe it's only your imagination, but everything truly DOES feel just a bit lighter now.
There is a marked note of triumph and hope int he air now.
Whatever the beasts plan, it cannot stand up against sustained firepower. Especially not since it showed you it's back.
As it goes down, Archibald notices that the hatchet used by the brother-captain has landed at his feet.
You are driving the beast back now!
Another one of it's arms now hangs uselessly, and it seems like it can no longer raise it's sword. Apparently, it's enough, and the beast starts to turn, clearly intending to flee. But your fire is relentless, with great wounds opening up on it's torso, and now also it's back. Still, it might be a good idea to start firing low, lest the beast manages to make it's escape despite how badly wounded it is.
As you pour firepower into the beast, you grow even more sure that things have changed.
You do not know HOW you know it, but you are sure of the fact, the beast knows fear now.
Imagine having gone through millennia, knowing that any wounds it takes will heal, only to find out that all of a sudden, this is no longer the case. Still, it's not done yet, and it begins to fire back.
One of it's right arms now hangs uselessly at it's side, part of it's lower jaw is blown off, and it's torso is pockmarked by craters. It's still not done however...
The beast seems surprised, perhaps it did not truly expect you to put up such a fight?
That is where the brother makes his own move, charging forward, both weapons drawn.
With a swing of the giant gun, the beast almost manages to spear the brother with the bayonet.
Despite this, something has changed, you sense a note of...nervousness in the beast now.
You've all set yourself up, trying to be as tactical as possible.
The only one who stands apart truly, is the Brother Captain.
When the beast appears, it's with the same startling abruptness as before, one minute it's just there, and you couldn't tell where it came from even under torture. But there is something different about it this time.
What is most different is the fact that the dark mirth from before, the sense it was playing with you and holding back, all of that is gone now.
It immediately begins to gallop towards the most obvious target, it's massive sword held high.
Fortunately, it' open salvo results in no casualties, but not for lack of trying.
Brother Captain Holt slowly begins to walk into the open, his hands on his weapons.
Highly Gothic: "I asketh that thou hast thine troops focusing on pinning the beast in place as best they can.
I needeth only to strike the beast, thus removing the vile vitality coursing through it, then it can be exorcised for good. Should I fall, someone needeth taketh mine place. I asketh that thou swear to end it for good."
After studying the charts for a moment, Archibald does spot an area that looks a lot less...crucial than others.
So, you have a plan, and you've called for all the reinforcements you can spare.
What could possibly go wrong?
Holt raises an eyebrow and then frowns, but eventually he merely nods.
Highly Ghotic dontcah know?: "Aye, the darkness hath got in and infected the very systems...
It can be purged, but first, the synaps creature must be destroyth. Cut off the head, the body perishes. That creature is likely to be impossible to kill without holy weapons. What in thine arsenal is blessed?"
Holt had been watching Archibald al through the proceedings with his arms crossed over his chest (each one still holding firm his weapons).
High Gothic/Latin:
"The light ist a harsh judge, but tis' also a fair one, not withholding mercy when appropriate.
It seeth in thee something worthy of life and not immediate destruction." Turning away, Holt walks over to one of the consol.
As he begins to tap the console, a Virtual assistant appears and begins to talk. "Greetings Brother Captain Holt.
As your fingers makes contact, you are not sure exactly what you expected.
It's cold, a chill up your spine, like the disproving glare of your father, as he prepares to chastise you for teaching your little sister a bad word.
Then, the judgement ceases, there is a slow warmth spreading through your mind.
As your hand falls from the chalice, you notice that it is wet.
And your mind, it feels...healed.
The man turns towards the back of the bridge.
Latin: "Yonder is the treasure of mine ship, a blessed vessel once held by the high lord himself.
None with malice in heart could layeth hands on it and live..."
The man frowns, but after a moment, his pose relaxes somewhat, instead of his weapons being held at the ready, he crosses them over his chest, clearly still suspicious, but less overtly violently so. High gothic/Latin:
"Mine designation is Brother-Captain of mine ship, the Righteous Redeemer.
And mine name is Brother-Captain Holt." He looks down with disgust at one of the corpses at his feet, and with a grunt he kicks it over, revealing the disgusting face of one of the dead men you've been fighting until now. High Gothic/Latin: "Knowth this apparition. When the dead walk, trust is a commodity in short supply.
Thou hast the look of a living man, and thy speech is that of a mannered soul, but to find trust, a test made must be."
The man slowly begins to smile, though it is not a pleasant smile.
High Gothic/Latin:
"I knoweth thee not, yet thou invade the heart of my ship just as I finish mine foe and maketh demands of me?
Tis' vessel be under mine protection, maketh no demands on mine allegiance lest thou suffert mine wrath." Despite how dishevelled he is, he looks strikingly familiar.
By the time the elevator stops and the doors open, the air is thick with tension and nervous energy.
As you hurry forward, your noses are assaulted by a thick stench, like that of a charnel house or abattoir.
As you approach the doors, your boots stick to the surface of the floor, squelching as you step through puddles of gore. Inside the bridge, the stench is so thick it's almost physical, like running into a wall. There are bodies strewn all around you, carved, shot, burnt and more. In the middle of the bridge, stands one lone figure.
It reacts to your presence however.
High Gothic/Latin: "Hark, more devilry and illusions. But of the living this time around.
Tis' a new trick to be sure, but it will avail you naught, spawn of the dark one. I will not sell my life cheaply, one horde or a hundred, it matters not, you still fall in the end."
As you move towards the now powered elevator, the ominous voice of the assistant, still repeating an error and counting down, fades in the background. You pass through the torn open doors, hurry down the corridor, and pile into the opened lifts. It takes a few moment to translate the runes inside the elevator, until you can identify the one that spells out bridge in High gothic/Latin.
"Understood, sending the reinforcements now, lord Captain." As the transmission ends, the assistant speaks up again.
There is another pregnant pause, before Lieutenant Skeppel speaks again.
There is a hesitation before a reply comes over the coms.
"Hold one...
"Unable to process request, auto functions unable to be shut down except from the bridge area.
From under it's hood, a light is emitted, forming a 3d representation of the area you are in.
Meanwhile, one of your subordinates begins giving out a few orders, sending a runner with an escort to contact the main force back in the hangar bay. Before they can set off however, the Assistant speaks up again.
"Nearly incalculable.
The assistant flickers for a moment. "Power output approaching minimum recommended levels.
"Command accepted...processing...
The Assistant flickers for a moment, before speaking in what could be considered a decent approximation of regret in it's tone. "Unable to comply with request, the bridge remains in lockdown and can only be access manually.
It is hardly an instantaneous process for the pool to defrost, but apparently the need to at least power the lights is minimal enough to be completed within a standard minute. The red lights are replaced by neutral lights within moments, revealing the chamber all but fully.
The one thing that ISN'T revealed is the visage of the monster that must still be around somewhere. Something that might be much more welcome is the sudden lighting up of a panel, and the projection of a virtual assistant, human to computer interface. ""Greetings sentient, according to system analysis, this system have missed 12695 system diagnostics and may be out of date.
A cable plugged into your induction port here, a switch thrown there, the rite of endurance, replacing a plug, the rite of subservience to the machine...
For a brief moment, he ceases to exist as the individual know as Explorator Iota Signus.
All your systems fail from the strain, before rebooting and coming back online. And as Iota finds himself on all fours on the floor, retching and gasping for air, the soft hum of the system slowly coming online can be heard in the background.
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