• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fandom Beyond the Black Curtain: 40k

OOC
Here
Characters
Here

MrThe

Mystery Man
Roleplay Type(s)
Cornelius closed his eyes and listened to the voice of The Golden Goose, the Void was completely silent, but a Voidship never was. The Mechanicus believed that every machine had a Machine Spirit, but there was an even more ancient belief among Mariners that every ship had a soul. The soft whirr of cogitators, the deep pulsating thrum of her power core, every creak and clank from the metal walkways and compartments that acted as veins and arteries to this most venerable vessel, all this and more told him that The Golden Goose was a living breathing thing. Perhaps the greatest contributing factor to this belief was that without The Golden Goose, all of them would be at the mercy of the Void, she was their protector their mother, and for a considerable portion of the crew she was also the only home they ever knew, having been born and living their entire lives within her belly.

His silent contemplation was sadly cut short by his right hand man, the High Factotum Alexander Delafontaine, whose family has served his since the first Rogue Trader set off. "Sir, I believe that the command staff is waiting on you at the bridge. You summoned them to discuss the upcoming expedition, the Inquisitor is also there." Cornelius sighed before following Delafontaine to the bridge "No rest for the wicked, Alexander, no rest for the wicked. At least that's what they say." "That's what who says, sire?" "I'm not quite sure, I believe I read it from an ancient tome or heard it from an old Vox Recording." This time it was Alexander that sighed "I wish you would just speak plain High Gothic sometimes." eventually they arrived at the bridge, and Lord High Captain Cornelius Quinn Rafferty Von Ponsonby portrayed his most regal and commanding persona, "Gentlemen, we are soon to embark upon a most dangerous voyage, the Galactic Core is largely unexplored, meaning that there are dangers that no one knows about, but for such dangers I care not until we come across them. The dangers we are forewarned of are enough already, countless dangers to navigation in realspace confront us, gravitic reefs, black holes, debris, and both pirate and alien threats. It will be perilous, but it will also be necessary, for what else is the duty of the Rogue Trader save to push the boundaries of human knowledge and expansion and bring the glorious light of the Emperor to unknown stars. If there are any questions or concerns about the expedition, please voice them now, because once we jump into the warp all preparations are done, we have already begun and will be completely cut off from the rest of the Imperium."
 
Last edited:
In a tiny cell in the bowels of the mighty Golden Goose, a solitary figure lay upon the cold stone flags of the floor. Naked but for the rough hempen tunic, she nonetheless sweated with the fervor of her prayer.
"
Deus Imperator, dona mihi sine pollutione mentis*," she whispered, "Custodiat animam meam ab omni subreptione. Custodi me a mutationem corporis.**"
Her devotions were cut short as the voxcaster set into the wall crackled into life.
"Chief Medical Officer, you are hereby ordered to report to the bridge
.", the terse voice of the custodian-servitor echoed in the sparse cell.
She sighed and rose to her feet, crossed over to the simple washstation in the corner of the room and swiftly doffed her tunic then splashed cold water onto her skin. Suitably cleansed, she donned her Order's robes then ascended the many levels to attend the bridge.


The bridge was as oppulent as could be imagined for a vessel. The crew seats were padded with plush velvet cushions, the handrails were ornamented with gold and precious gems and even the massive viewscreens that showed the vast starry expanse beyond were plated with rare crystal glass. She stood amongst the other 'officers' of the Rogue Trader Lord Von Ponsenby, her face a veil of pious indifference to the adherents of the Cult Mechanicus. She understood their Cult only in the broadest terms and she found the worship of machines verging on abhorrent, especially when such worship superseded that of the God-Emperor himself. But, she reasoned, they were a necessity in as vast an empire as the Imperium. Without thier knowledge, the Holy Word of the Emperor would take centuries to reach the farthest flung regions of the galaxy, as would righteous retribution to heretics, mutants and witches.

Her introspection was interrupted as the Rogue Trader himself entered the bridge with his aide. He stood upon a raised platform over the officers' heads and gave a speech that set Castita's heart thrumming with anticipation. Soon her pursuit of the heretic and her abductor would begin. It would be a matter of time before they were brought to heel and the accursed book they carried would be returned to the vaults beneath Castellum Noviana.

*"God Emperor, grant me purity of mind"
**"Protect me from the corruption of the soul. Guard me from mutation of the body."
 
There was a constant beat as the heavy metal of someone’s boots echoed in the bowels of the ship. The soft whir of power armor barely audible to the flesh of ones ear, but not to the wearer no. Omega Ren was already walking from his area of office up to the command center. He had received no call, nor would he as per his orders, nothing aboard this vessel happens without a servitor nearby to relay the information when it involved meetings of the heads. He knew, he knew it was time to enter the warp, to enter the unknown and gather more knowledge. This was what he had helped prepare the ship for, all the maintenance, cantacles, litanies, it all lead to this one moment that would allow for the smoothest ride through the warp possible.
The Enginseer Prime continued his path, a single servo skull floating on one side and an officer of his skitarri walking on the other in silence. Omega had no problem with interactions with his followers, but right now he was reciting more cantacles to keep the machine spirit calm, they were about to embark on a great journey after all. Even that would make the tech priest nervous, even if he did shut off that part of his mechanical mind. His Servo skull had an incense burner hanging from it, burning oils prepared for such a blessing, the soft smell wafting through the air. To those not of the cult they would surprisingly find it to be a pleasant and calming flowery spell. This continued all the way to the command center where Omega stepped in. Seeing he was only about a second early as the medical officer was already present with the captain barely walking in. In silence the tech priest went to one side of the center console, his skitarri captain standing at attention behind him, the servo skull floating to the top to continue with the blessing.
The captain gave his speech, and Omega only felt a slight excitement at the unknown prospect of such a journey. The information he would find, the knowledge, and perhaps he could learn more about the strange artifact he always kept on his person, kept hidden from all but himself.
 
If one were to measure every inch of the Golden goose then measure it again the measurements would never be them, just they would not match if repeated a third time. While the ship might look normal it was bigger on the inside than the outside and that was all thanks to a figure that stood alone in a room that did not fully exist in the material universe. Nefecris was no human, not even one of the crudely augmented tech priests was as inhuman as her. A necron one that had burned their flesh and let their soul be consumed for immortality. How one such as her could end up on such a primitive ship was the greatest of the galaxies jokes. Yet here Nefecris was working for the short lived young race squandering what she could do for them by making mere star charts. Serving as map maker while she mostly stayed in her extra dimensional room had some benefits, but after a few decades it got boring.

Nefecris had something to occupy some of her mind right now though, a map of the galactic core. Her current master wanted to delve that hell scape of radiation, black holes, and worse. Humans were not the first to explore the core and they were not the first to have things lost there. Hopefully 65 million years had rendered it safe and that thing hadn't gotten loose. Either way correlating old maps from various sources, and her own simplified modeling algorithms lead to what was the most likely lay out of the core. This of course could not account for the randomness of the universe and anything destroyed by the younger races. The celestial orrery could provide a far more accurate map, but visiting the tomb that might not even be active right now was out of the question. Still this allowed Nefecris to change some details to keep the ship from some of the places that she would rather they not see after all did they really need to visit the gates or and necron outposts, those were best left alone.

The meeting going on with the current captain was something that Nefecris had in the back of her mind, several subroutines listening, analyzing, and alerting her if anything important was said. Nefecris really did not need to visit the bridge to know what was going on there. Still she should show up when she was needed, though she could go there in a moment using her ability to move through dimensions connecting points in space time to quickly travel between them, but she didn't need to. The previous captains had installed a primitive hologram device, which she had used scarabs to secretly improve over the years. Thus as the captain spoke the emitter in the chair left open for her flared into life. The projected image was not a true image of her but rather a mock up of her in the robes of the machine worshipers with a few alterations that would help her blend in more. The green image of the fake tech priest was crisp and clear a far cry from the flickering, sputtering, fuzzy, images in most imperial hololiths.

The image was fully turned on as the captain asked for questions then seeing there were none would have normally moved to ask for charts. Nefecris had been through this more times than she bothered to count over thousands of years, thus did not even need to be asked. " The charts are done captain" Nefecris said her voice not needing to be hidden as the machine worshipers often augmented their voices. As she spoke the hologram held out it's fist and then opened it. As it did a tiny recreation of the map burst forth. The map was not very detailed due to size and right now it was more for theatrics than to be practical. " I have molded the movements of the stars and the warp currents, but as always the navigators was less than helpful " She explained having always found those mutants annoying to deal with as they held their mental maps close to heart as if it were some great secret none but them could have. the currents of the warp were soon overlaid with the miniature map though it was mostly speculative given how many issues there were with this area.
 
There was some quality to the Carto-Artifex’s voice that always set the Hospitaller’s nerves jangling. Was it the strange, almost inhuman quality of her voxabulator? Or the unusual inflections and stresses on certain words that Castitas had heard from no other member of the crew? Regardless, she gave her own status report.
“The apothecarium is fully stocked and standing ready to receive casualties. Crew health is generally well, there was an incident involving a pressure valve failure in the manufactorium that caused eighteen fatalities, but those losses can be restored from other areas. Crew mental state appears generally positive, within a standard deviation, there’s always some doomsayers. We have fresh, frozen and dried food stock to last 36 months without resupply as well as processable nutrient slurry and military-grade corpse starch rations to last ten years. We have 500,000,000 Imperial gallons of potable water in the reservoirs and the filtration and recycling plants are maintaining at β-Secundus grade quality.”,she reported, then paused, “Armsmaster, if you might indulge me.”
She turned to the man dressed in the uniform of the ship’s Master-at-Arms, “While overseeing the water filtration quality tests in pumping station 9, I overheard a conversation amongst the crew-family stationed there. Apparently, there have been several sightings of glowing humanoid figures moving around the lower levels of the pumping plants in station 9 and 8. I’m sure it’s probably nonsense, but you know how superstitious ratings can be. Perhaps a few extra patrols by your armsmen in those areas could settle the crew’s nerves?”
 
Last edited:
Rayk was listening intently to all of them. He was excited, having been promoted in a true Guardsmen fashion: Surviving. He was proud that his regiment now belonged to a man who had shown him a piece of parchment signed by the Emperor himself. But he still had no idea what he was doing. His mind had not yet processed the magnitude of his future involvement with a Rogue Trader, all he knew was that his job was to kill the unworthy, and shoot all who stand in his boss' way. He looked at those in the room, watched the two cog 'eads and the sister talk. He himself had decided to dress in something more... professional. He was wearing standard garb and a flak vest, but over this he sported a brown trench coat, and wore a Dulicinean officer's cap to top it off. He had also liberated a Mars-pattern boltgun from the Goose's armory. And as he thought of this, he looked about the room at the array of characters, and could not help but feel as though he was a cog in a machine again, a welcome feeling. When the sister mentioned the glowing figure to him, he responded, "I can pull a few lads from less active sectors of the ship. I think the Ratlings would enjoy a bit more privacy as well, so this would be an effective solution to two problems. On the topic of troops sir, I was wondering what kind of enemies we may encounter. Last thing I want is to think we are fighting Orks, and run straight into a Tau ambush."
 
As the “tech priest” spoke Omega only huffed, letting her finish before deciding to tease the “thing.” “Ah yes, I could only expect the best from a fellow tech priest. As we are quite knowledgeable in technologies don’t you agree? Fellow tech priest?” Said Omega’s machinated voice box. If it weren’t for his mask one would think he was smirking beneath it. He was aware of this...things existence, and while he found her fascinating in some regards, he didn’t trust her, not yet anyways. He was certain that his relic, may be related to the woman in some way.
Turning he heard the medical officer speak to the sergeant at arms, who of course had a Mars Pattern Bolter, a good choice in the Magos’ eye, the man knew superior tech when he saw it. Though at her mention of a failing water pump he frowned, “I will send some of my people down there then. Fix what ever it is that the crew seemingly figures out how to break...again.” And as he finished those words his men were immediately dispatched, heading down to deal with the problem, as is the Magos’ job on this vessel. The sergeant at arms spoke, talked about rearranging troops, Omega had nothing to say about that, they were his troops, he’ll post them where he deems fit, and Ren will post his. Though at the question of the enemy Ren chimed in, “there are all manner of enemies we may fight, xenos, pirates, the forces of chaos. Just be prepared to deal with enemies you may be powerless against.” Though he paused a moment, craning his head before speaking, “though the machine spirit seems confident in this voyage at least.”
 
There was some discussion on the bridge about business, but they were all minor matters that did not require his direct attention. Cornelius sighed inwardly upon hearing the Enginseer comment towards his Fellow Techpriest which might just give it away that their Carto-Artifex was no techpriest after all. He would have to ask the Enginseer to not be so indiscreet at another point. However, before they could get too busy discussing the minutia of running the ship he finally spoke. There was a certain tremble to his voice this time around, his anticipation, his excitement and anxiety always seemed to manifest itself just before he gave the orders to jump. "The Golden Goose is a good ship Techpriest Majoris, she's been in my family since the Great Crusade and so she and I are often of one mind. Though I am not a believer in the Cult Mechanicus, I am a believer in Ancient Wisdom, and this wisdom most ancient of all is that a Ship has a soul. It's somewhat comforting to hear you say that The Golden Goose is confident in the voyage, but even if you had not, I still feel it in my bones, and I feel it in my soul, that this voyage is one for the ages. If all that is left are some matters of small import, and the charts are prepared, and the ship is eager, let us cast off our Anchor. Voxmaster, give the order to prepare for Warp Transit, we leave as soon as the Drives are Warm."

Cornelius could not help but smile as the Voxmaster gave the order to prepare for Warp Transit and it echoed throughout the whole ship. He loved the time just before a jump, when the whole crew would leap to attention and go to their duty stations, and the ship slowly made the myriad preparations until finally all was ready, and they made that final leap into the unknown. He could scarcely contain himself during the 30 minutes or so that it took to get the Gellar Shields up, the Warp Drives at the correct capacity, and so on. Then a silence he savored before giving an order. "Initiate Transit" And finally, the thousands of lives that were in his hands were there no longer. The multitudes of men and women were in the hands of the God-Emperor and the Navigator. They were in the Warp now.
 
The holographic form of the fake Nefecris turned to regard Omega hooded head slightly tilting to the left the lenses that were fake eyes seeming to glow differently than the rest of the hologram. it was to all look as if she was slightly confused if not concerned by the words of Omega not fearful of him but perhaps seeing something wrong in his statements. The master at arms it seemed was ignorant of their location, the Tau were only reported by the realm of ultramar and they were far from those worlds. That was to be expected of humans as interesting as they could get they were foolish and ignorant and seemed to enjoy being such. Nefecris did not bother the correct the master at arms of his misconception or explain the reported threats of the area that could be expected by analyzing those of the nearby maelstrom warp storm. She instead remained focused on Omega, he knew the secret and yet he picked at her here in front of others.

" We are as knowledgeable as the omnissiah allows us to be Magos Omega" She said before the hologram shifted as if she had forgotten something " I mean former Magos current prime Omega. I would suggest you run diagnostics on your systems it seems you have developed a possible glitch Fellow tech priest" Nefecris said feigning concern that prime might be slightly faulty

Nefecris would not allow for a second taunting and her false image faded signaling to many that she was gone, though she was never truly gone from this space. If Nefecris was better with canoptek constructs she would have made a spider that would monitor more areas of the ship, but as it was Nefecris kept herself to just watching the bridge in the back of her head. She could not afford the power to watch everywhere and that would take up far to much of her attention.
 
Omega only squinted his eyes at the “woman” as she mentioned his fall from grace. But he couldn’t retort, one it would make him look bad, and two she was right. But also out of respect, he couldn’t help but smirk beneath his mask at her comeback.
Though her comment about him needing to run a diagnostic on himself caused his smirk to disappear, and to make matters worse, before he could respond she cut her signal. She ran away, or at least that’s how he saw it, but it was no victory for him that was for certain.
 
Castitas watched the back-and-forth between the two Techpriests with equal parts confusion and interest. Magos Ren seemed to be implying that Magos Nefecris was not a member of the Cult Mechanicus, or perhaps he saw her as being from some inferior branch of the Cult body. This Castitas understood. In the Cult Imperial, there were as many sects as there were settled worlds in the Imperium. Indeed, one of the primary roles of the Adepta Sororitas was to work as the Order Militant for the Ordo Hereticus, the arm of the Inquisition tasked with rooting out heresy and divergence from the core of the Imperial Truth. Many sects followed the same core tenets, Abhor the Mutant, Deny the Witch, Destroy the Xenos, but beyond that their beliefs were as varied as the stars. Some believed the God-Emperor to be some great avenging angel who would sweep across the great expanse to smite their foes with fury and fire. Others saw Him as an honored ancient ancestor sitting on a throne, His brow heavy with great knowledge and wisdom. Others indeed saw Him as the perfect embodiment of what Humanity was, strong, wise, insightful, measured, but swift to defend what was His. Of course, He was all of these things and more, but it was the differences that caused the friction. Advanced cultures had different understandings and beliefs to primative ones, and they often abhor those primatives for their beliefs. Some sects hold to the ideal of penitence in recognition of the Emperor's eternal sacrifice, while others hold more lax views. Polar opposites in belief create areas where sects and believers will clash.

Wars of Faith. They have existed since the exultation of the God-Emperor's ascension. When sects of the Cult Imperial have decided their disagreement on articles of faith, their followers inevitably attempt to convert or stamp out the followers of the divergent sect. Violence ensues and inevitably people are slain. In the end, the God-Emperor's chosen are victorious and the aberrant sect is lost to the annals of history. Perhaps this is the case with the situation between the two Techpriests. Perhaps Nefecris is an adherent to some lesser sect of their cult, and Ren of a greater sect. Castitas hoped that they would be able to keep their devisiveness to mere bickering for the sake of the ship and her mission.

EDIT TO ADD:
With the Captain’s order to prepare for Warp transit, Castitas took that as the time for her to make her way to her section. She went back, via her cell where she donned her blessed carapace armor and took up the Helfire pistol she had been issued along with her Devil Fang sword. She arrived in the apothecarium and watched her orderlies and junior medicae adepts moving about their duties with well-oiled efficiency.
As the Lord Captain’s voice echoed through the ship wide vox to initiate transit, Castitas found herself instinctively gripping the hilts of her weapons. At that point of first infiltration into the Warp was the first test of the ship’s defenses. If the Gellar field collapsed, there was but a tiny hope the ship could abort the transit and crash back into realspace. But chances were that such an event would be unlikely as the ship would be drawn ever deeper into the Warp, exposed to the ravages of the Immaterium and the daemons that dwelt there. Ships had survived Gellar field failures, to some degree. Their outer hulls would be twisted and contorted like fresh clay, their engines redirected into bizarre angles and their weapon systems often changed into monstrous parodies of their original forms. But it was rare indeed for the crew to survive such an event, since they would have to contend with a flood of corrupting Warp energies rushing through every corridor and chamber, swiftly followed by the hordes of daemons that inevitably surged at the slightest taste of a mortal soul.
Better to take one’s own life and the lives of everyone around you than face eternal torment as a daemon’s plaything.
Castitas stood her station and waited.
 
Last edited:
After the ship had finally been encased in the roiling tides of the warp and all of the viewports went black save the Navigators, Cornelius relaxed further. "So, mister Persin, this is your first jump as a proper Naval Officer correct? How does it feel to be at the mercy of the God-Emperor? Some people can never get used to the fact that they have no control over what happens in the Warp. Rogue Traders are masters of many things, ships, planets, armies, all they can survey when outside the Imperium, but most of all a Rogue Trader is master of themselves. In a galaxy where one always owes allegiance to something or other, the independence and freedom of a Rogue Trader is intoxicating. Personally I feel quite at ease within the warp, it is the one and only time I can relax, when I have no control at all. Isn't that Ironic? I have the most freedom when I can do nothing about my circumstances." Cornelius looked at his Master-at-Arms carefully to gauge his reaction.
 
Rayk looked over to his employer and responded, "Yes it is my first time as a Naval Man. And to be completely honest, I bloody hate it. Men like me spend years training for combat, waiting for our chance to get some, and kill every heretic we can find. Then, they are never heard from as the warp swallows them up. Whole regiments numbering thousands of men, gone in the blink of an eye. Their colors are unrecoverable, their records lost, and their legends die with them. Some of the greatest stories are lost to the warp. Some of the greatest heroes never reach their destination. But, we continue to use it. We continue to send millions to battlefields they will never reach. Do you know why? Because that is what it takes. We must use the evil we despise to save our own. If we did not use it, then all would be lost." He looked down and pulled a piece of glass out of his pocket. It was crudely melted, and was no longer than two inches. "This belonged to a man in the 89th Aussie Jungle Fighters. They called them the "Bushwhackers". He handed this to me after I got separated from my squad during an ambush. He told me that the Emperor's light once shone through it. I later found my unit, and never saw him again. His whole regiment was lost to the warp after the campaign. But as long as I kept this, the warp has not touched me. I know that the warp won't touch me, what bothers me is how it takes everyone else indiscriminately." Rayk put the glass away.
 
Lord High Captain Von Ponsonby nodded his head sagely when mister Persin explained his feelings "It is indeed a high tragedy when a ship is lost in the warp. Doubly so when it carries the mighty men of the Imperial Guard. But I hope it is some comfort that The Golden Goose has gone 7,000 years without once being lost in the warp and I don't plan on losing her now or even in another 10,000 years." Cornelius said nothing about the semi-melted glass, every voidsman worth their salt had a lucky charm, or Holy Relic that they believed warded off the irrefutable dangers of the warp, and as for Guardsmen, they say there is no atheist in a foxhole so it did not surprise him that they too had their superstitions. Von Ponsonby too had his own priceless holy relic, an ancient mariners timepiece from seemingly before the Dark Age of Technology. It told him with peerless accuracy what the time was on Holy Terra, even within the warp. "It is not only my own vessel that has braved the tides of the immaterium for many years and not been lost, many others safely make it across. I prefer to remember these vessels, and trust in the skill of our own Navigator to bring us to our destination. I will tell you this, the warp only appears to take indiscriminately, but in my experience only those who have lesser moral conviction, who do not believe the God-Emperor will protect them, those who are unprepared for complications, or who have a Navigator that is not up to the task will not see the end of their journey." SpazTheButcher SpazTheButcher
 
Assured that nothing of grave import had presented that required her attention, Castitas left the apothecarium and returned to the bridge. The data link hung from her belt continued to scroll updates from the medicae both in the apothecarium and deployed across the ship. She had bid the device be silent for every report save those marked as urgent. As she walked the corridors and went up levels via the ascensors, she listened to the noises around her.
The constant whisper of the air vents brought the distant mechanical sounds of a million important processes that allowed the void ship to ply the depths of the Immaterium safely, but it also carried the susurration of thousands of pious devotees imploring the God-Emperor to watch over them and protect their souls. Despite her knowledge of her current location, Castitas felt oddly at home. The sounds were not unlike those heard in the vaulted halls of any of a billion cathedrals across the Imperium where the loyal and dutiful supplicants sent a constant stream of prayer to Sacred Terra.

Her thoughts were disturbed when her data link pinged and the screen displayed a report marked as ‘Urgent’. She scrolled to the report and read it, her eyes taking in the message sent from her senior most adept. It might be something to appraise the Captain on, once the opportunity arose. That said, the doors before her opened and she stepped back onto the bridge.
 
Omega Ren wasted no time leaving the bridge once all was said and done. The tech priest wasn’t one for idle talk, his boots heavy in step as he headed back down to his office, to continue his study of the ancient relic he kept on his person.
As he descended further he could hear reports from the various units he had stationed around the ship, learning of his people fixed thebursting pipe problem, good, he knew it would be an easy task. Learning and hearing more about mechanical issues being quickly resolved as well as the proper precautions being taken, now it was up to the denizens of the ship to not break anything again. The magos provided the tools, now it was up to the workers to use it right.
 
As the heavy bulkhead doors ground shut behind her, Castitas’ green eyes swept the bridge. As she had hoped, the Captain remained on the Command Dias, along with his ADC and Voidsmaster Persin. She moved purposefully over to the stairs that ascended to the dias and was respectfully stopped by the Officer of the Watch at the foot.
“I have business with the captain and the Voidsmaster, stand to.”, she said authoritatively and glanced up at Delafontaine. The High Factorum visually identified her and nodded to the Officer who respectfully stood aside and allowed her to climb the polished brass stairs.
“Captain, Voidsmaster, I have a matter of concern to bring to your attention.”

She extracted her data link from her belt and performed a handshake with the captain’s vidpict podium. She transferred data with swift, careful measure and once she was finished, a personnel file flickered into view on the hololithic display. The subject of the file was a nondescript man, his face unshaven and a scar running from the bridge of his nose to his left jawbone.
“Aolius Kale, Munitions Loader Third Class. He joined the crew three months ago, claiming to be from Port Maw in the Gothic Sector. Records are undistinguished, no commendations or reprimands. Never attended the apothecarium nor has he ever been recorded as taking shore leave.”
she tapped the link and his file was exchanged with a gruesome image. The same man was shown laid on a floor, his limbs splayed in unnatural directions and his face frozen in a rictus of agony.
“He was declared dead moments after we entered the Warp. Eyewitnesses report he had been seen ascending one of the heavy-lift gantries to ensure the safety interlocks were in place and that he then fell from there. The thing is, those gantries cannot be easily fallen from since they have cages around them, so it was considered a suicide. However, the medicae who certified his death on scene reported the scent of burnt flesh and observed a slight wreath of smoke coming out of his ear. We don’t normally autopsy suicides, but a decision was made to perform a limited autopsy of his head.
“Sir, I must report that Munitions Loader Third Class Aolius Kale had extensive burns to the insides of his eyelids, the backs of his retinas and the right frontal lobe of his brain. Injuries of this nature have been observed in victims of witchcraft and... emergent psykers.
“That this happened at the moment of Warp translation could indicate one of two things, Kale was the victim of a psychic attack or Kale himself was an emergent psyker who was overwhelmed by the power of the Warp and fell to his death. Either way, it is my duty as Chief Medical Officer to inform you of this matter and my suspicions.”
 
Last edited:
"Well frekk." Rayk said, first thinking about how horribly this may go down. Then a dark thought, one that only a guardsmen would enjoy, flashed into his head. He looked to his nearest man, and began barking orders. "Close off the gantries that this was observed in. Grab all witnesses and make sure word of this spreads to no one. I want my Command Company assigned to this, any others are to be informed that a possible Eye Rot outbreak has been identified, and that we are quarantining those thought to have been exposed. Get some guys in Hazard suits to make a big show of cleaning the area up. I also want men performing no-knock searches in the underbelly, and make sure the Ratlings are aware of this." Rayk knew that his relationship with the Ratlings was vital, and the last thing he wanted was to catch them with contraband. But he wanted this psyker much, much more. "And have troops pull more shifts. I want this bastard found in a week's time. And alive. Any more than that and I will start looking for him myself, and you lads don't want that to happen." Once Persin had finished, the young officer made the sign of the Auquila and began barking orders to his own subordinates. Rayk grinned, with what seemed to be a twinkle in his cold and dark eyes, "This trip may be fun after all."
 
Deep in the space that was on no map Nefecris Continued her calculations, she needed to figure out exactly where the systems should be that she was having the ship avoid. The map she had given was a best guess in a way with certain areas mapped as to dangerous to go to, though the exact boundaries were vague. She was also aware of the things happening on the bridge , but she was not focusing on them they played out in the back of her mind. She set up protocols to alert her if certain words or phrases were said. There was also one more thing in the back of her mind, the prime and the thing he held. Nefecris had been aware of the device he carried and it's nature from the moment he stepped on board. Nefecris as one of the race of the devices proper owners of course wanted it back and might have tried to claim it if not for the fact she was very out numbered here and her seeming loyalty was the only thing keeping her safe. She was loyal tot he family or as loyal as one of her calling could be, which meant for now given the other dynasties were sleeping she was sticking with the family.

Nefecris would open a channel to the prime, not quite a vox channel, but very similar so human's privative technology could handle the information. " If you want your little toy activated you should return it to it's proper owner" Nefecris said calling for the artifacts return as she often did at this point it was more a greeting than anything.
 
Omega stopped his tracks, he had been pacing about his room for a time he stared at the device. A voice came on, and he knew exactly who it belonged to. “You have a lot of nerve contacting me personally like this, especially in this manner.” He said to Nefecris’ disembodied voice. She asked for the device, for the relic, but no, it was his, and he would unlock it himself, show the mechanicus they were wrong, that the sacrifices to get it may even have been necessary. To show that man kind can advance through the machined will of the Omnissiah. “My toy?” Asked the Magos. “I am not a child, I do not know what toy it is you speak of....” he said playing dumb. “Though if I did happen to know what you were talking about, and I did happen to decide to take up your offer, what does this toy do exactly?” He asked coyly.
 
On the bridge, Castitas looked from the impassive face of the captain to the obviously exhilarated demeanor of the Voidsmaster.
“The deceased’s personal effects are still in the apothecarium, if you wish to look over them. As to the people in the port side Number 4 Macrocannon vault who witnessed the incident, my medicae adept should have details of those present.”, she said calmly, a counterpoint to the dangerous energy of the Astra Militarum officer.
 
Upon hearing of the strange death of the able voidsman Cornelius was concerned but not worried. When his Master of Arms issued several orders that would do nothing but cause excessive anxiety on the ship he immediately snapped out an order countermanding them all. "Belay that Persin! There will be no news of this event leaving the bridge and those who already know of it. And there sure as the Astronomicon will be absolutely no talk of infectious plague when there is no such thing. Do you want the attentions of the Plague Demon on this ship?! There is no need to seize the person who found the body of a mere suicide victim. I want the Master of Whispers to QUIETLY investigate this incident just in case, and my unofficial opinion on this matter, due to the exact timing of this incident is that he was likely a latent psyker. If it were to have happened while we were in realspace, or perhaps some time into the warp then my suspicions would lie elsewhere, but this happened at the exact moment we transitioned. To me it seems most likely that he was an unknowing witch and the unlucky sod got fried. Until something else happens that makes me think otherwise we officially rule it a suicide or cross it off as another accidental death. We should just count ourselves lucky he got fried instead of getting possessed." SpazTheButcher SpazTheButcher Captain Hesperus Captain Hesperus
 
Nefecris sighed, not because she need to anymore, she hadn't taken as breath in millions of years and yet the old habits of sighing when having to explain something that should be obvious remained. The prime playing dumb was a pointless endeavor and the only thing keeping her from simply opening a dimensional corridor and taking it was how crowded that area of the ship was. These humans and their pointless xenophobia was annoying, they should be happy to have her here and beg for her to teach them even the simplest of necron secrets. The artifact was a key and keys opened things. While simple scans could not tell exactly what the key went to Nefecris was sure if she could examine it in person and at length she could figure it out. As silly as it might seem Nefecris had a bad feeling about that key, while her flesh had been burned away so long ago it was but a distant memory event to her, the mysteries of the mind were still unknown even to her. Despite having no brain to tell her of some unseen threat, some fate they were hurtling towards she felt there was something wrong. Then there were the events of the bridge some undocumented psyker died, that should not be uncommon for humans were still attached to the warp they still had souls. There were bound to be a few that slipped through the cracks. The whispers of demons however was almost laughable. They were warp entities young beings born after the war, nothing but reflections of suffering given a slight spark. They were not gods and demons just different levels of warp being to give them such religious tones only served to power them. That was at least how Nefecris with her understand of dimensions and understanding of the universe had come to classify and under stand the warp entities. Why would humans seek out gods in the warp when there were gods on this plane, horrible and hungry gods.

" I do not feel like beating around the bush so you humans say, what you hold according to my scans is a key" Nefecris said to the prime her voice in whatever passed for an ear on the former magos " And keys open things, and sometimes those things are best left closed. You humans are too curious for your own good you will let out whatever lurks in that prison. Return it to it's proper owners prime"
 
“A key.....” he thought a moment, thinking on how many secrets could be hidden with a key. Though she warned of something that should remain closed. Then spoke of a prison. “So this key then leads me to believe it opens a prison. This simple and small relic, that was so heavily defended....what prisoner does it keep?” He asked the Xenos form. She once again spoke about proper owners, but she also claims ignorance on the true nature of the relic. “You are not yet it’s owner Xenos. Just because it belonged to your people does not mean it belongs to you.”
 
" It belongs less you a child who has only fumbled at it " Nefecris retorted " I know how you humans go from world to world claiming what your ancestors made as your own. How your kind pick at the bones of your own legacy. What you hold there is property of the Necrontyr dynasties and I am their people" She continued.

The prime was annoying in his refusal to hand over the artifact if it was indeed a key, then it was better off in her hands than in the hands of one who would no doubt free whatever was hidden within the prison. Really what did the prime expect to find in a prison, except some new threat? Nefecris had her own ideas as to why the key was here now, why any had been allowed to leave a tomb complex that held such a key. The idea of what that might mean was terrifying and could not be true.

" If you wish to know what it might hold, well you would have to come to me for such stories are not for the ears of those that could be listening in" Nefecris said as a seemingly flat black rectangle large enough to allow his bulk in appeared. The rectangle was pure black no light escaping it as if it was a black hole " Come child and learn the answers you seek " Nefecris still not appearing herself simply a beckoning voice on the other side of the darkness.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top