Chapter 1: Into the wild black yonder IC

[Way, way back with the commander]

Quote :

It is not the sword that is the weapon, but my spirit. And my body will be destroyed long before it will.

"Many a good man has died with great spirit, those men did not have a chain sword, adamantine augmented legs, and power armor. I admire your grit and determination, but if you want to lay waste to chaos and evil throughout the galaxy your faith in your spirit must be able take up the better weapon when it is given or you will perish."

She swiftly pushed forward in her wide stance looking as though she would make a wide arc with her sword, which she would but only after sweeping his leg with her forward leg. How successful the sweep was was irrelevant. It was merely a distraction.

As she used the time as he regained his balance or toppled to swing her chain sword from her far hip in a wide arc, activating it mid swing, just close enough to his face for him to be able to feel the vibrations in the air as it ground around the blade.

However she did not seem to execute the sweep as elegantly as she'd hoped expecting her distraction to be more like an annoying ankle kick, and gritted her teeth waiting to see what his next move would be. She cursed herself for not being able to break this backwater Gallahad in a single move. She wanted swift obedience.


[Summit]

She felt at complete unease in this setting on Torian's request to interact with these nobles. She could slice Evangel in two with ease, but asking Bren to advise in a formal setting of this and she felt like she'd rather have her legs blown off again and reattached. She did feel fine up to that point squinting behind her ornamented power armor at this dissection business this little blood blister mulled over doing to that not-a-kid kid, Alexium.

She feigned attention and pleasantries as well as a soldier intent on enforcing righteous mass murder at a moment's notice possibly could. It started with her failure to inspire her family's legion of soldiers, and now she could feel the cold void that is formal etiquette slowly drain her soul away Emperor help her. She wondered how much these little magicians were aware of her alternating  feelings of social anxiety with nobles and hyper awareness of this building conflict, which has already caused her to tense up at the mere suggestion of brutally decapitating this also-not-a-child(?) child.

She thought, how many times will I need to shelter Alexium from the occasional not-so veiled threat during formal affairs like this?

Ignatio turned to take a dataslate from the table, one that they had filled with information about the benefits of swearing fealty to the Filiantius family. Slotting his electro-graft into the appropriate port, he transferred a couple of the documents he kept copies of in his cerebral cogitator.

The first was an instruction manual and prayer book for the operation of the most basic technology aboard the Anatem, something typically made available to midlevel crew members who could be trusted with that basic responsibility.

The second was a philosophical treatise, explaining the objective perfection of mathematics and the sacred nature of certain patterns and equations. From there it went on to explain the necessary existence of the Machine god.

Handing the dataslate to the tech-witch, he watched her expression as she took it. "This will serve as an introduction, though most progress will require firsthand instruction."

The Manutarch of the Norald bloc stood to speak:

With the accord, we are now a single polity. To one and to all, hip hip!

And the crowd answered "Hurray!". The crowds slowly stopped paying attention to the center and started talking amongst each other. The air was electric, as the tension once found in the crowd seemed to melt away. Those from all blocs talked freely-about science, about the outsiders, about the future. There was a distinct sense of hope in their speech.

The manutarch of Blago stood and walked away in something of a daze. She payed no attention to what was happening around her, and started to leave flanked by two of her guards, which she seemed to momentarily recoil from. Many manipulators of the Blago Bloc remained however, including her advisors, chatting with their neighbors.

The manutarch of the elder Bloc spoke to Ignatio:

You, manipulator, or, rather, "Tech-priest". I would ask, do you have any treatises of the political philosophy of your empire? If it has lasted this long, it must surely be an exceptional edifice! It could help us craft the optimal political structure for our united world.

The manutarch of the Southern Bloc called up Torian:

I've just the manipulator to accompany you. They are a young, but quite skilled manipulator trained in the psychological disciplines. He could sell a refrigeration device to a glacean nomad. And talk about what luxuries your empire has to offer.
She made a closed, sensual smile.

Roderick & Alexium where standing near enough that he heard a discussion start up between the Manutarch of Norald and Evangel:

I will be...glad that ... you might ... sample the mysteries of the universe. I am thinking that this tower may serve as a useful neutral ground for the council to convene. Have you left any traps that might cause issue?

Evangel laughed drily.

If I had, nobody would have reached this floor. I removed them the moment you contacted me. You can talk with those...hangers-on. They know all of the tower controls that are still present, and have some basic knowledge of my ways.  Idealy, dont kill them-their recognition of my intellect alone is a prime indicator of their perspicacity. Assuming you provide they ressources, they can keep the tower running. You can even use my fixed labs and machine bay-maybe for teaching and collaboration. I've taken back all the good stuff by this point anyways.

Brenyonya stood alone, a giant of gold is a sea of people, until one man in orange approached her-manipulator Treveres, who has showed you all around a little when you where first at Norald.

Ahem, hello Ms. Brenyonya. I am glad to see you have stayed warm. Though have you been in combat? There is abrasion on your, ahem, lower left breast-armor that was not present last time we spoke.

Wendigo Bob wrote:

The manutarch of the elder Bloc spoke to Ignatio:

You, manipulator, or, rather, "Tech-priest". I would ask, do you have any treatises of the political philosophy of your empire? If it has lasted this long, it must surely be an exceptional edifice! It could help us craft the optimal political structure for our united world.

Ignatio turned to Waketar and examined him as he spoke, noting the man's advanced age, he wondered if any of his organs were failing and might benefit from bionic replacement. He considered inquiring about that, but social protocol algorythms threw up red flags about that idea, and he decided to suggest it to Primavera later.

Offering a slight bow, he answered "My title is Magos, Manutarch, though Tech-Priest is not inaccurate, only imprecise. Regarding the political philosophy of the Imperium... would you please temporarily provide me with your dataslate?"

Taking the device, he connected with it just like he had the prior one, uploading into this one the basic outline of the Lex Imperialis and a copy of The Omnissiah's Greatest Work: The Imperium by Archmagos Faraday-Gauss. Showing the Manutarch the datafiles and how to switch between them, he then handed the slate back over.

"The Imperium has stood for ten thousand years by rejecting rigid control over planetary governments. Forms of leadership that may bring unity and productivity to one world will create discord and ruin for another. The Archmagos discusses this in detail; however your current method of governance is quite analogous, as your isolated hive spires put you in a similar situation to that of isolated planets and star systems. An analogous form of governance would see the leaders of each spire and each collection of spires seeing to the needs of their people and the maintenance of their power, and providing significant contributions to common needs."

"The overriding structure overseeing the whole does not largely concern itself with the particularities of individual leadership, but rather expects each leader to contribute what they reasonably can, and applies pressure to those who fail to contribute or who through incompetence or disloyalty threaten the stability of the overall structure or the productivity of their or another polity's citizens. And the Imperial Adepta provided for by the contributions of the member polities then intervene as needed, to defend against attackers or provide for unexpected shortfalls."

Ignatio continued like this, answering questions and expressing his opinion, until his interlocutor excused themselves or he was pulled away by someone else.

"He sounds… quite charming. That sounds exquisite; thank you. If he is anything like you, I'm sure I will find him irresistible. I must ask about your luxury goods, they are famed on this world. I would like to acquire a substantial amount for trade with the next system we encounter. Do you have any recommendations for products that would travel well and hold wide-spread appeal to another people? Further, you asked about 22% and half of a core-adjacent spire. If you would supply us with the goods we desire, I would accept 22%. If you truly would prefer your hub of interstellar trade to not be in the core of your bloc, so be it. However, I strongly suggest you allow us to establish that hub central to you, for your own convenience and ease of trade. One last thing, I would like to take aboard a variety of your best food and drink for my personal chef and the top tier of our officer-corps. Can that be arranged?"

After resolving things to completion with the Southern Manutarch, Torian moved to stand by the Norald Manutarch and Evangel. He listened to their conversation and waited politely for the Manutarch to move on, posturing and gesturing diplomatically. Such was second nature to him, his body could go through the motions easily enough while he analysed negotiations. Once relatively alone with Evangel, he leaned forward and spoke, "I look forward to you joining our crew. It will be a welcome infusion of technological capacity, and I trust you to keep things interesting. I will inform my staff of your impending arrival and mobilize my ships to bring you and your material aboard. Normally I would have the crew begin establishing a previously-uninhabited section of the ship for you. However, I garner that you might prefer to find your own section and establish a laboratory where you will. Is that accurate?" Torian dropped his voice without resorting to a whisper: "Please understand, Evangel, as part of my crew, you will fit into a rigid hierarchy substantially different than the one you are in now. One wherein you are no longer at the top. One where I am at the top, and you are in the middle, and 100,000 people follow my orders or we all end up dead. Hierarchy matters, especially aboard ship. I appreciate your ego, and even find it commendable. I need a tech-surgeon who knows their own skill. But if I end up with a tech-surgeon who cannot know their place, then I will remove that officer just as a surgeon might excise a tumor: swiftly, wholly, in finality." As he spoke, Torian's voice never changed from its polite, diplomatic tones, nor did his face change from its mask of polite interest and active listening. His eyes continued their piercing gaze into her.

After Ignatio finished with the Elder Manutarch, Torian moved to intercept him before he leaved. He approached and bowed. "Manutarch-Prime, your wisdom has been greatly appreciated today. I believe we can share much knowledge with you, perhaps even more than with any other bloc. I agree with your calls for unity, and would support such a proposal in the congress that will come about now that this is sorted. Tell me, is there any knowledge you particularly desire, that we might share with you? Is there any knowledge you would keep away from the other blocs? To finalize our agreement, I desire the upper half of your coremost spire. I believe the rest of our agreement fits as standard, unless there are particular pieces of knowledge you value enough to include."

After the conclusion of the summit, Torian voxed ahead as they regained orbit, ordering the steward and quartermaster to get the ship resupplied as much as possible in the next 24 hours while last issues were taken care of. He informed the crew about the influx of ambassadors and the tech-surgeon. He ordered the necessary shuttle services to being aboard the emissaries and laboratory, as well as sending down crews to establish embassies in the spires they had secured in negotiations, and the beginning of a hopefully-extensive spy network throughout the blocs. He ordered the withdrawal of their master of whispers from her deployment among the Norald, they needed her onboard, and he trusted her people to continue without her. He asked her advice about who to send as the Filianatis representative and planetary governor, and promptly took it. He needed someone cunning, diplomatic, and conniving. Such was the speciality of the master of whispers and her staff.

Onboard, he voxed the Blago Manutarch to finalize negotiations, sticking firmly to the template as laid out in the meeting. He did not pursue particulars, and tried to keep the conversation short and professional. After finalizing the last agreement, he sent out a vox message to all the manutarch-primes informing them of the joint successful negotiations, and calling for the establishment of a constitutional congress under the formal chairmanship of the Filianatis planetary governor, to create a planetary congress and establish rules for interbloc governance within the Dynasty, with the use of the Imperium governing suggestions given by Ignatio.

With that all accomplished, Torian began the processes of ordering withdrawal of all non-essential crew from Glacea, and the necessary orders to prepare for leaving the system. As usual, he left much of the most important preparations to Lethia, Roderick, and Alexium, as the chief officers involved in the actual processes of interstellar travel. He made sure to take some time out of his schedule to personally greet the emissary of the Southern Bloc and welcome him aboard enthusiastically, showing him to his luxury quarters that just-so-happened to be relatively close to the Lord-Captain's quarters. He then invited the emissary to join him for a meal, to discuss the Southern bloc luxury foods and drinks brought aboard. He also quietly ordered a poison-inspection of those goods before the meal, and sent a portion off to Lethia's personal chef to bolster her meals.

Once underway leaving the system towards the Mandeville Point, Torian began preparing himself for Pilgrimage. He wanted to do an EVA before they reached the immaterium, after transition into which he would take his personal pilgrimage through the ship, its collection of holy archeotech, and its maze.

thepooreconomist wrote:

"One last thing, I would like to take aboard a variety of your best food and drink for my personal chef and the top tier of our officer-corps. Can that be arranged?"

I'll see what I can do. We can probably transfer a few tons of high quality foodstuffs and liquor in short order. Otherwise, this should be good.

thepooreconomist wrote:

 I appreciate your ego, and even find it  commendable. I need a tech-surgeon who knows their own skill. But if I end up with a tech-surgeon who cannot know their place, then I will remove that officer just as a surgeon might excise a tumor: swiftly, wholly, in finality." As he spoke, Torian's voice never changed from its polite, diplomatic tones, nor did his face change from its mask of polite interest and active listening. His eyes continued their piercing gaze into her.[/color]

Her face swiftly returned to its predatory form.

Then we have an understanding. I will use my skills at your service-which is primarily science, engineering and medecine. I will find some nook where my lab fits.

thepooreconomist wrote:

I agree with your calls for unity, and would support such a proposal in the congress that will come about now that this is sorted. Tell me, is there any knowledge you particularly desire, that we might share with you? Is there any knowledge you would keep away from the other blocs? To finalize our agreement, I desire the upper half of your coremost spire. I believe the rest of our agreement fits as standard, unless there are particular pieces of knowledge you value enough to include."

We will do what we can. We lack a clearly discernable coremost spire-our centers are pretty spread out. We will find something centraly located.

Lethia listened while staying as much out of the spotlight as possible. Her soft smile watches as everyone seems to revel in congratulations.

Her ears pick out Torian's request for the planets delicacies - This made her a happy navigator indeed.

Now, with a genuine smile she watches the proceedings.

Evangel joining the crew was...surprising to say the least. After hearing out her reasons for joining the crew they made perfect sense. She wanted to see the galaxy, not languish in a relative backwater. Lethia watches her exchange words with Ignacio, wondering how that arrangement would fare.

One voice she expected to hear, but did not, was Alexium's. She searches the room for the Child psyker and found her next to Rodrigo, as usual.
She moves over to them and bows her head in greeting, though she didnt feel it was necessary.
"It seems we have scored a great victory for the dynasty today. How do you feel about the terms? I must admit that Evangel is an unknown quantity. I don't know if it bodes ill or well for us in the future....."

Alexium stayed the course ordered by his Captain, but inside was ultimately disappointed. Evangel had seemed to be such a rare breed on this planet, at least initially. As the negotiations faded she...he...it had turned out to simply be all too eager to fall in line in the Imperial hierarchy as another cog in the machine of the fantastic Fillianatus Dynasty.

In the end, that was a win. It was good that people knew their place. It was a boon to the crew to have the new lab and medical insight aboard the ship, but it was the fact that for all her talk and bluster she did so... so willingly. So eagerly. It had taken away the thrill of the hunt, so to speak.

With that, Alexium approached. There would be no mistake as to the formation of the hierarchy.

"Evangel, welcome to the crew. I'm sure in no time you'll be dissecting and putting back together all of the heroes who conquer worlds in the name of our dynasty. And perhaps every now and again we can introduce you to a new form of horrific xenos to play with. Your expertise will be an extremely welcome addition."

With the proceedings finished, Alexium took out a Lho stick and lit it up. Their silken scarf never once leaving the robot-girl's face.

"As a scientist, you've no doubt experienced how flora and fauna fare outside of their natural habitats without constant protection and intervention from higher life forms to ensure their survival. The protection they receive is vital while, over generations, they attempt to adapt to their new circumstances. Yet those that bite the hands that feed often find themselves culled for the good of all."

They finished the Lho, placed it into a beautifully ornate plasteel holder so as not to litter, and smiled.

"You're top shit down here, but in the Void nothing matters but the crew. We depend on one another to survive. In the Warp, you can only pray that that is enough. As I have said, I am truly happy your expertise will be among us, but you are no longer irreplaceable. Don't fuck this up. When you're ready to have an adult conversation, find my quarters."

With that Alexium turned and moved to leave with the others they had spilt blood, sweat, and tears with. Words of wisdom more than veiled threats, Alexium felt that at the very least the reality of the situation Evangel was now in would be cemented in her mind.

They also hoped that she would take them up on the offer and come to talk.

***

[With Lethia Just Prior to Leaving & Aboard the Anatem]

"Lethia, old horse! Wonderful of you to join us! Alexium prodded like their typical self as the Navigator spoke. For her role alone, Lethia earned a lot of respect from the Astropath. They saw her as the balancing weight that kept the ship upright in the horrors of the Warp, but lately she had been noticeably absent.

Which meant that Alexium had been noticeable snottier to her.

"I had a word with Evangel. I hope that we have a mutual understanding. If not, we can always throw her out of an airlock, yes? How are you faring - ready for a good meal?" The last question was followed by a wide, cherubic smile.

Alexium had shared laughs and notes with their comrades on the shuttle ride back to orbit. A flask of good, but not great, sacra had come out of their robes and was shared eagerly with any who would partake.

Once aboard the ship, they de-briefed with the crew as necessary and went to their quarters for a quick wash, hydration, and caloric intake. This was not the time to savor a meal. This was simply preparation for the first of many psychic callings that needed to be done before they left the system.

Together with the Astropathic Choir, they sat in meditation until their breathing was exceptionally slow and equally deep. Then, they reached out...

A day later, and the preparations had been completed. The crown of the prime spire, which would serve as Glacea’s spaceport and eventually as its orbital spire, had been repaired. There remained significant work to do to bring the facility back to its former glory and to appease the long-neglected machine spirits, but Magos Gamma-Epsilon 008 and his team had finished repairs on the fusion reactor and the systems electric, and stepped up the reactor to just before its final stage of full power output.

A few hours had been spent rigging up a powerful vox transmitter, among other things, and Ignatio stood in the main control room as he connected to it and began sending his signal out across the frozen moon.

In spires across the world, vox receivers were tuned to the signal he transmitted, as he had arranged with the Manutarchs as the summit came to a close. His eyes danced over the words projected before him as he considered them one last time, making a few final edits before he finalized his speech and sent it through the vox to millions of waiting ears.

“People of Glacea. This is Magos Ignatio Pulsanus, of the Adeptus Mechanicus of Mars. I speak as a representative of the Filiantius dynasty, who in turn serve as a representative of the Imperium of Man. My intention is to ensure that all Glaceans understand what has occurred.”

No sound emitted from his body as he transmitted these words, but his monotone voice rang out with the harsh growl of the vox that generated it, down on the world below.

“Fifteen billion years ago, the Machine God reached into a dark universe with a gravitic hand and condensed hydrogen, inducing the miracle of atomic fusion. As he spoke ‘Let there be light,’ he ignited the first fusion furnaces that we call stars, one of which your world distantly orbits.”

His voice lacked inflection, his words were articulated with sharp edges, but this only added to the enormity of the change he had brought.

“Twenty five thousand years ago, the ancients replicated this miracle, building great fusion furnaces which electrified their glorious machines. With this, they brought life to your frozen world, and built and powered the great spires in which most of you reside.”

“Fifteen thousand years ago, the age of The Ancients came to an end in the era we call Old Night. During this period your ancestors lost contact with the rest of humanity. Through Xeno attacks and the passage of time, the knowledge of the ancients was lost.”

“Then, ten thousand years ago the Emperor of Mankind rose from Terra, the world of humanity’s birth, on a great crusade across the stars. He swept away Old Night, and one by one brought the light of his Imperium to the lost worlds of humanity.”

“Great distances and warp rifts have delayed the arrival of the Imperium’s light to Glacea’s skies, but after ten thousand years it has finally reached you, to banish Old Night from your world with a new dawn, and usher in a new era of unity and prosperity for every human on this world.”

Magos Pulsanus rose his hands, and as he did the fusion reactor at the core of the prime spire’s crown hummed ully to life. As it did, a great bank of lights that had been hastily attached to the outside of the spire flared to light, shining in the dawn sky with an intensity that rivalled their star and the reflection of the gas giant they orbited.

“In the years to come, the works of the ancestors will provide your people with warmth, food, and power. Today, I ask you to look to the skies, to Glacea’s future. I ask you to find your part in building that future. And I promise you that the Adeptus Mechanicus will be with you, the Filiantius dynasty will be with you, the Imperium of Man will be with you, as you reclaim the glory of your ancestors and the prosperity they desired for their children.”

thepooreconomist wrote:

He made sure to take some time out of his schedule to personally greet the emissary of the Southern Bloc and welcome him aboard enthusiastically, showing him to his luxury quarters that just-so-happened to be relatively close to the Lord-Captain's quarters. He then invited the emissary to join him for a meal, to discuss the Southern bloc luxury foods and drinks brought aboard. He also quietly ordered a poison-inspection of those goods before the meal, and sent a portion off to Lethia's personal chef to bolster her meals.

The ship was finally ready for departure. The two companies of Glacian Troops-one of armour, one of mechanised infantry-were on-board, and their vehicles were being strapped down for transport, with a dozen fluffalo to produce milk for the soldiers. Your many gifts were loaded, including a decent amount of luxury foodstuff from the southern manutarch-prime. The Glacean parliament began its establishment, and you where confident they would go forward with it. All the representatives where being set-up in the luxury suites. The ship started moving towards the Mandeville Point as everyone settled in for travel.

The representative of the southern bloc was a young, somewhat effeminate gentleman named Owandote Lotan. The foodstufs where diverse-fine aged and cured meats, rare cheeses, rich fermented-milk liquors, salted fungi loaves, and preserved ice-algea.

The Norald bloc had sent manipulator Teveres, who seemed rather lost and confused in this foreign place.

The Blago bloc had sent a scared and hardened woman, Malia Dotaw, who had her left leg replaced by a prostethic, her left arm by an extendo-blade, with a patch on her left eye. Apparently she had been hit by a powerful melta-blast that had destroyed much of her left side.

The Elder bloc sent an aged manipulator by the name of Esmerelda Balon-clearly a woman of some regard, who constantly asked questions about each piece of technology she did not recognize.

thepooreconomist wrote:

Once underway leaving the system towards the Mandeville Point, Torian began preparing himself for Pilgrimage. He wanted to do an EVA before they reached the immaterium, after transition into which he would take his personal pilgrimage through the ship, its collection of holy archeotech, and its maze.

An airlock had been emptied and prepared for your solo use. As the ship approached the mandeville point, you had a chance for an EVA.

[With manipulator Teveres at the negotiations]

She shifted slightly in her armor to peer down at the manipulator. "Thank you for noticing, manipulator Treveres. Yes, some irksome agents of chaos inflicted the damage, but we dispatched them without too much difficulty. Excuse me, I must attend to something."

Following Alexium's last words to Evangel, she walked over closer to her, stared her down unmoving in her armor, then spoke in as even a tone as possible. "Welcome to the crew of the Anatem, Evangel. If you dissect one of my soldiers without putting them together in working order, I will do the same to you."


[Waiting aboard Anatem before leaving the system]

On hearing the little psykers speak of the living liability on board, she commented, "I also had a word with her, which was perhaps a mild threat. If we need, I can choke her to death with my grox whip right now."

Later she approached Teveres while waiting for them to depart the system. "I apologize for cutting our conversation short, is there a reason you inquired about the state of my armor? Additionally, what do you know about Evangel? How worried should I be about finding one of my militia in pieces on an operating table just to satiate her curiousity?"

saelean wrote:

Later she approached Teveres while waiting for them to depart the system. "I apologize for cutting our conversation short, is there a reason you inquired about the state of my armor? Additionally, what do you know about Evangel? How worried should I be about finding one of my militia in pieces on an operating table just to satiate her curiousity?"

It is...hum...difficult to say. There are a lot of rumors going around about her. We know-conclusively-that she is at least 177 years old, which is nearly three time the average lifespan on Glacea. The nomads have some of the more fanciful legends, naming her "The Inhuman", saying she survived -80 C nude, that she wrestled a megabat to ground, that she can raise the dead. There is, of course, no real evidence to those claims. Though it is confirmed she did extensive work on exiles-criminals expulsed from the spires into the cold-as a number of them have been recognized amongst her "metal-men". And those who have worked with her-calling her everything from madwoman to witch-have nonetheless survived to spread these rumors personally. There have been a number of books concerning her-quite fanciful really-but there may be some truth to divine there.


Teveres rubbed his chin...

I dont expect she would do anything to your people-after all, she has many skills, but space travel isnt one of them. Maybe throw her the occasional criminal? If you wish, I could pass you a few of the books written about her. They are little more than adventure serials, written by a former companion of hers, but they could provide some insight.

Lethia had isolated herself in the navigators deck above the command spire. She had spent the last days preparing for warp travel to the next destination.

The armored shutters were drawn back, and she had a wide view of the black void. She say on the floor, on a woven blanket insted of the cold bare decking. Al the lights were turned off, and the only lighting came from running lights visible in the viewport, and the candles she had before her. In front of her crossed legs was a tarot deck, for without charts or any helpful navigation records on the halo stars, she had to rely on good old soothsaying.

Her eyes were close, her human eyes anyway. It was her mutant third eye that examined the cards,reshuffling them, drawing the same cards again, and then looking out into the void for some sort of sign.

[with Teveres]

She appreciated the manipulator's candor and eagerness to offer advice, she could see much to benefit from him having a permanent post on the ship. "Please do, manipulator Teveres. Is there anything I can do for you to make your trip in the void more comfortable?"


[Preparing for leaving the system]

Brenonya, out of her power armor and just wearing her simple carapace armor, has called the captains of the ship militia together along with knights from Puretania and Victoria Stein. They were gathered in a private meeting room outside of the barracks, and even there one could feel the stirring of all aboard as they prepared to traverse the void again, may the Immortal God Emperor bless them on this journey. "Hello all, I wanted to follow up on where we are investigating the Anatem for chaotic elements making their way onto the ship. Please report any findings.."

"The archenemy is foul and I want our new compliment of knights to become part of our investigations. And if they request new armaments, within reason of course, I want their requests granted and with higher priority than the rank and file."

"Now captains, please proceed with any findings you have on security aboard my family's Emperor-blessed vessel."

Sylphilis wrote:

Her eyes were close, her human eyes anyway. It was her mutant third eye that examined the cards,reshuffling them, drawing the same cards again, and then looking out into the void for some sort of sign.

The warp spread out before you, the distant systems looking like distant features-the astrographers would have named them AE45690 , AE25488, and AE74901. There was a path however-the same current that had dragged you to this system. It was a strong and stable warp-current, the type that could become a highway to this new region if it was fully mapped out.


Region Map

Lethia concentrates hard. The warp current they found themselves on was stable and would take them further into the silent region. Three possible systems were in their immediate vicinity.

She closed her third eye, and weakly stands and sits into her Navigator's throne, from here she would contact the Torian.

"Master Torian," she starts into the vox, the exasperation apparent in her voice.
"There are 3 possible systems on our current warp route which may prove fortuitous. The nearest is a dull system 3 and a half light years to the galactic North-northeast. Further, just north of that system, is a vigorous system, quite a large one, at 4 light years away. Lastly, there is also a Luminous star system 4 years away towards the north west."

She couldn't give him more than that. Not without any useful star charts.
She slumps back in her chair, only wanting to sleep a few hours. She needed to know the destination before she could prepare the course properly.

Roderick was beginning to get that feeling again. That feeling of helplessness, or uselessness, he sometimes got when thoughts of his brother came up. That chap had been a talker, able to talk an Andraays into committing suicide. When he wasn't able to be of use to the crew, it became worse, and going through the negotiations, he had felt the pang creep up from under his collar and worms its way into the back of his skull. It made him silent, brooding, and dark natured. He ignored the wrap up of the negotiations and left immediately for the lighter to prep for take off.

He pushed through the doors and looked at Haast, which was still perched on the back of a chair. With a flick of his head Roderick sent it out ahead into the cold.

Once aboard the ship he made his way to his quarters for a rest. Then a drink. When the ship was fully loaded he would go to the bridge and get things underway again. He could feel the need to put the ship through its paces before they hit the Mandeville point, anything to get the power back. That flash of silver came out from his breast pocket again...

As usual, the Enginseer Prime's time and effort were in high demand as soon as he'd returned to the ship. Between reviewing the preparations to return to the warp, ensuring Evangel was set up in an appropriate area of the ship and answering some of her initial questions, and dedicating several more hours to studying the archeocogitator and in rituals preparing it for activation, he had barely found the time for personal prayer and meditation.

The time had been sectioned off, however, allowing Ignatio to retreat for an hour to his personal meditation chamber before he was expected to lead the Lord Captain on his pilgrimage. Only in this specially prepared chamber did he remove his armor, robes and mask, leaving only the flesh, steel, and silica of his body. Ritual objects surrounded him as he knelt on the steel floor, and the incense smoke rising from the censors burning to either side of him helped calm and expand his mind.

Pressing his hands together in the gear symbol of the mechanicus, he connected the electoo inductors emerging from his wrists to each other, completing the circuit electric. As he repeated his litanies and spoke his prayers for guidance to the Omnissiah, he felt the potentia coil inside him, felt the electromantic power gathering inside it, flowing through his body, out through one arm and into the other.

While he spoke his rote litanies, the answers to his prayers returned from the depths of his mind, questions of logic and doctrine that had arisen over this first few weeks in his new position on this grand mission. At first, the answers that returned disturbed him, but as he rephrased his prayers to ensure their validity, the initial alarm faded, to slowly be replaced with a deep sense of certainty.

The Imperium was a broken machine, and it was the mission of the Adeptus Mechanicus, as commanded by the Omnissiah himself, to repair it.

As that sense of certainty built, and he gathered his will to push past the inhibitions of orthodoxy and accept the conclusion to his prayers, he felt the potentia coil within him rise to an audible hum, making his hands tremble. Looking down to his wrists, he saw that the electoo inducers glowed brighter than he'd ever seen.

Electrostigmata. It was the Omnissiah's blessing. His course was set.

A notice flashed before his eyes, alerting him that he was needed for the ritual preparation for the Lord Captain's pilgrimage.


A short while later, Magos Pulsanus waited before the airlock that had been prepared for the Lord Captain, as he went through the rituals of maintenance on the Lord Captain's voidsuit while a lesser tech priest held it up.

As they began accelerating away from Glacea, Torian passed control of the Anatem over to Roderick and Lethia. They would handle all that was needed for the warp transition. He tasked some of the crew to prepare the new add-ons for what was about to happen, and to lead them in some basic prayers to bolster their spirits. He briefly hugged Roderick, patting him on the shoulder and passing him a bottle of the luxury spirits received from the Southern Glacean Bloc. "Onwards to the next system, eh Cousin? Hopefully this one will be just as profitable, and maybe with less obnoxious diplomats... Give me an hour once we reach the Mandeville point for an EVA with Magos Ignatio. I am to begin my pilgrimage. Get us positioned and check in with Alexium and Lethia that we're all set to transition, and then wait for my order. I'll be in my chambers until the EVA."

Torian strode purposefully to his chambers, locking them from entry and muting all but the most important methods of summons with which the crew could contact him when in his chambers. He pensively looked at the expansive lord captain's chambers, relatively spartan in furnishing, but with intricate gothic carving into the arches and bulkheads, hand-carved trim, rich wooden bannisters and hand-holds. This was a space that could be turned into something truly marvelous, with time and the right provisions. Torian could see lush carpets, delicate art-pieces, ancient relics adorning every surface, eventually. He could even envision showing Owandote just how hedonistically luxurious they would become... That would be his, one day. And he would start that process soon... but not today. Today was not about that.

Torian lit an incense censor he had hanging off of an intricately machined cast iron stand. He then shed his carefully-selected clothing, and turned off all lighting in the chambers, leaving himself in complete darkness save for the small glow emitting from the censor; whisps of smoke spiraling upwards. He kneeled in front of the censor, and began to meditate. Torian knew little of true prayer. He had never believed in anything but his own cunning, his own will to live and dominate. This trip had exposed him to new phenomena; memories that seemed to cling to his brain. He saw the infernal life within the chaos-titan, the works of miracle deep within Glacea, the way the ship seemed to twist and bend around him, the hisses and groans of the hull sounding almost like ancient words said through slumber. There were gods, this was something he had always known as fact, yet they had never impacted his life until now. Now he was beginning to see himself as smaller than something, perhaps even part of something bigger. There were inklings of a purpose to his life he might choose other than cementing his own power and ambition. Unbidden thoughts arose in the deepest recesses of his mind every now and then, that maybe there was a role he was unknowingly playing in his seemingly individualistic choices. Maybe there was a bigger picture, a story in which he was one among many characters.

Torian began to chant, slowly and methodically. He had memorized many of the mechanicus hymns in his lifetime, such was his role as a diplomat among the forgeworlds. Yet this was the first time he sung with meaning, or even with the first inklings of faith. He tried to lose himself in the chanting, the incense, the darkness. His conscious mind slowly began to recede in the meditation, leaving a deep sense of calm. He kneeled for hours and hours, until the muscles in his thighs cramped and shook. He compartmentalized the pain, receding within the ritual into a place of separation. He began to feel outside of his body, aware of his consciousness as separate from his flesh. He felt a deep sense of purpose, anticipation of beginnings.

It was time. He opened his eyes to total darkness, the incense having burned itself out hours ago. He slowly raised the lighting, stood, and walked out of his chambers. With the meditation over, his conscious was more present, and reveled in the power and confidence he felt as he strode through the passageways of this, his vessel, naked. He passed some number of crew, all of whom recognized his face and the power he represented over them. No comment was given to his nudity.

He arrived at the airlock to see Ignatio blessing his voidsuit. He waited patiently for the rites to conclude, watching closely, before gesturing for the lesser priest to help him into it.

As he entered the airlock, he warmly greeted the tech-priest: "It is good to do this, Magos Pulsanus. I have found some faith within myself, and will find more. Thank you for your proselytizing."

The voidsuit was applied to the Lord-Captain's naked body with the utmost reverence, and as the life support systems hummed into activation, the Magos poured a vial of anointed water over the helmet and the tubes leading up to it, observing the results carefully. Nodding as he saw a lack of bubbles frothing up through the water, the tech-priest opened the inner door of the airlock, and walked inside.

His own red robes had been replaced with a crimson voidsuit, which managed to give somewhat of the same impression while still being functional. He gestured for Torian to accompany him.

Establishing a vox-link between his internal vox processor and Torian's helmet, the Magos broadcast directly to him. "As you take your first steps on the Quest for Knowledge, know that the spirit of the Omnissiah walks with you. The sensation inside your mind, of curiosity, of ingenuity, of wonder at the marvels of the machine, that is the reflection of the Machine God."

Ignatio closed the inner door, and as it closed, he trigged the airlock to cycle. A rush of air sounded as the atmosphere was pulled back into the ship.

"On a walk through the void, you must know and trust the spirit of your voidsuit. It is easy to forget that the ship protects us from the harrowing of the void, because it is kept far from us, but in an EVA, the void lurks inches from you, waiting to steal your breath and suck at your eyes. Let us speak thanks to the spirit of our suits."

Ignatio gestured for Torian to repeat his prayer. "Though I walk through the blackness, the shadow of death, I will fear not the void, for you are with me; Your seals and your filters, they comfort me. You breathe into me your precious oxygen; my lungs overflow with your bounty."

Torian followed into the airlock, trusting in his crew to keep his body unharmed. He felt a moment of hesitation as the air voided from the chamber. Ironically, he had never done an EVA before. There was no reason to; there were peons for any work that actually needed doing outside the ship. His experience of spaceflight was the calm interior of the bridge, the extensive chambers of a diplomat's or a captain's quarters. He felt the suit bubble slightly around him, the negative pressure pulling outwards with surprising force. He could imagine the effect such force would have on his flesh without the suit. Interesting.

"Though I walk through the blackness, the shadow of death, I will fear not the void, for you are with me; Your seals and your filters, they comfort me. You breathe into me your precious oxygen; my lungs overflow with your bounty." Truly, he did feel grateful for the voidsuit.

He moved forward at the pace set by the Magos, from handhold to handhold. He felt his own smallness in the infinite blackness of the void. It was not even dark, simply... nothing. He felt the vibrations of the hull under his hands and boots. It felt secure, his only source of life. It was massive. From inside he never truly grasped the scale of the ship, nor from the distance when approaching in a shuttle. When he was next to it as simply his flesh, he felt dwarfed. It really was awe-inspiring.

Alexium had been extremely curious about Torian's religious initiations and tech-pilgrimages since first hearing about it, back before their exploits on Glacea and Purity. With this system looking to be behind them all for some time, the Astropath had eagerly taken the opportunity to accompany the Magos and Lord Captain.

This was a field trip for the child - dissembler of truth, as they were known in some parts. Regardless of the outcome, they would learn. And with any luck, get to know their crewmates more intimately. This was a well-oiled machine, after all: both crew and ship. Alexium had always believed that. Shared purpose and understanding would keep them moving efficiently.

It was thus that they donned their void suit and met at the prearranged exit point, helmet in hand. They arrived as the Lord Captain's suit was being blessed.

"Magos Pulsanus. Lord Captain. I am excited to do some moon-walking with the two of you. While this is more or less a field trip for me, I assure you that I understand the religious significance this has for the both of you. With respect, I would ask you Magos to please bless my void suit so that I do not horribly die upon exiting the ship."

They took a few small steps forward and gingerly handed the Tech Priest their void helm. Their suit was a standard affair, though Alexium was now wanting an upgraded unit after seeing both the Magos and Lord Captain's own suits.

Secured and ready to go, they followed the two through the airlock.

Upon hearing the prayer, they silently mouthed it before giving a prayer to the God Emperor of Humanity.

Ignatio had no mouth with which to smile, but the very aware could perhaps intuit the expression through the motion of his black filter-mask. He nodded as Alexium presented their helmet to him, and took it gently.

"It is good to see you here, Astropath Transcendant," he greeted them. "I conclude that your interest in the ways of the Cult Mecanicus has been increased by our prior conversation?"

Ignatio looked over the voidsuit helmet, speaking a brief prayer in binary, and receiving a positive answer from the blinking light on the side. Then he bent down and placed the helmet over Alexium's head, setting it properly and twisting it in place until it made a satisfying 'click', before proceeding to anoint it with water as he had the captain's.

After he'd escorted the two out of the airlock, his demeanor solemn now that he had fallen into the practice of ritual, he looked up at the expanse of stars above them as they made their way across the hull.

"It is difficult to understand the scale of our place in the universe. The galaxy is a single gravitic cog among billions, and this solar system is a single gravitic cog among billions within it. In size we are infinitesimal, however every cog has an impact on the machine as a whole. We all spin through the universe in line with with the Machine God's design."

They proceeded across the golden hull, beneath the expanse of black and the distant stars, until finally they arrived at the feet of the first statue, that of the founding matriarch of the Filiantius line. A ledge, tiny in relation to the statue but large enough to comfortable maneuver on, jutted out from underneath, a small amount of artificial gravity helping them keep their footing as they stared up at the enormous figure before them.

"This ship was made at the behest of the Omnissiah himself. It remembers your female ancestor, as it does every Filiantius who has stood within her halls. The memory it holds of her protects the crew within from the predations of the warp."

Torian stood at the feet of his ancestor, the bastard of a glorious line, now on the brink of defeat. He looked up at her and felt renewed purpose to bring power and wealth to this dynasty. It was his place, the purpose of his cog.

"I have felt its consciousness. I feel it now."

Alexium realized that their hands were beginning to cramp. They had been clinging so hard to the hand holds. Digging deep into the incredible depths of willpower they possessed, the small hands loosened up and they trusted the small pull of artificial gravity, and safety harness, to keep them where they needed to be.

Alexium whistled. The statue was magnificent.

As always, they were curious. "When did the matriarch reign? I have to imagine the statue was constructed after her passing?"

As Bren listened to her captains drone on about happenings aboard the ship, she wondered if anything more important was happening aboard the ship right now... Nah.

"Sephora Salaznir provided her wisdom and her genetic material to the family alongside her husband, ten thousand years ago when both served under the Emperor directly. She was said to have originated from a feral world, providing a very different perspective and genetic lineage that combined with that of her husband in a union beyond the sum of its parts, as all machines should be."

Ignatio knelt for a time, speaking his own silent prayers and listening for their answers. Then he stood again, watching the others to note when they had finished their individual mediations. With a wave, he proceeded to usher them back, down the side and across the belly of the ship.

It was twice as long a trip, by necessity, somewhat grueling for the use of muscles not accustomed to this kind of repeated activity.

Arriving at the feet of the old Patriarch of the Filianatus, Ignatio once again led them onto the gravitic ledge and knelt in meditation. "The Patrogenitor, Praeparcus Filianatis, is he who gave purpose to the Anatem. Every machine has a purpose, and every righteous purpose plays its part in the service of humanity, as commanded by the Omnissiah."

Torian let himself be led along, the pain in his body a welcome reminder to separate his conscious from his flesh in this journey. He gazed at the Patrogenitor and felt kinship. This was the man who gave purpose to the Anatem. Torian would give it purpose anew. He would see the glory of this vessel renewed. "I am coming to find my own sense of purpose, that I have never before felt. The gods have always felt so... distant to me in the past. On this journey, and in this ship, they feel much more present. Perhaps that is a change in me, instead of a change in environment. What purpose do you see in your life, Magos Ignatio?"

Alexium took mental notes. The child's brain was a steel trap, their intellect only overshadowed by their incredible willpower. Immediately, they were happy they had decided to come.

Once at the statue of the Patrogenitor himself, they knelt as the others did and kept quiet. This was a moment to listen to the introspection of the faithful.

The Magos was quiet for an unusually long moment at Torian's question, answering just after it became awkward.

"I have been thinking much on this question, Lord-Captain. We of the Adeptus Mechanicus have a special purpose, given to us by the Omnissiah himself, when he strode beside us in matter as well as in spirit."

He turned to look at Torian directly. "This is the purpose that you will be undertaking as an initiate in the mysteries of the Mechanicus. Our purpose is to maintain, repair, and restore the machines on which the Imperium depends. The Imperium is a machine intended to protect and provide for humanity, and we ensure that it continues to serve that purpose."

He let that sink in for a moment, and then once again, when the time was right, rose and led the others back toward the airlock.

As they passed under the expanse of stars once again, he sent his voice to Alexium's voidsuit alone. "This is what I have come to understand after our discussion. Thank you for aiding in my comprehension."

Then he spoke to both of them as he looked up at the sky above. "As we choose our path ahead, keep in mind the warp probe we found. Its signal likely points toward the lost Explorator fleet, the recovery of which would be a boon to us. I believe that the Omnissiah's spirit guided that machine into our path, that we may locate it. Within the next two passages, I believe we may have adequate data to locate it."

He listened to any response they had as he opened the airlock once again and guided the two of them inside, then followed to run its cycle and return them.

"And now we return to the Anatem's protection, our voidsuits having discharged their duty admirably." he said as he unsealed his own helmet, removing it and ensuring that the others removed theirs without issue. "And you have set out on the first steps of your pilgrimage."

Lethia Divined the Auguries for the travel ahead. The warp-route was strong, stable, at most 48 hours of travels materium time-a few hours in the warp. The day seemed fit for travel.

The navigator spotted the astronomican. You were at the very edge of the halo zone, and it it was still well visible-it would be fainter soon.

The navigation was well-plotted, but the transition from core to halo perturbed you, until you detected something faint in the distance. It was like a torch flickering in the wind, like the astronomican but lesser, more fragile, but still there in the distance, invisible before the barrier to the halo zone was crossed.

Despite the hard travel, you arrived at a safe location-at the periphery of the system. Valry Mace, master of etherics, started speaking:

Breaking warp, some signals in the vicinity. Oh crap, two vessels in proximity, destroyer-size. One Orkish, one ... eldar I believe? The profile is right, but its far too slow. Likely damaged, the Orkish vessel seems to be in pursuit.

Alexium felt a sense of awe and pride at the monuments and legacy of the soon-to-be-great-once-more House they all served. THe Filianatis Dynasty was a house as old as the Imperium itself. Ten thousand years of legacy would not simply blink out of existence.

If the Astropath Transcendent had anything to say about it, it would usher in a new age of Psychic understanding and safety. And while this was their personal trajectory while in this mortal coil, they knew that Torian, Roderick, Lethia, and Ignatio were pursuing theirs as well.

"It was my pleasure. I have had a vision with powerful elders beyond my comprehension. I would speak to you about that conversation when we are in less deadly environments."

Then Alexium clicked back to them both, the stars and the grandeur of the Anatem their backdrop. "When we started our journey, I had only myself and Roderick to trust and rely on. Since then, I have come to know the true measure of our crew's loyalty, courage, and diligence. I believe we all have the same understanding that restoring the glory of House Filianatis is key to protecting and prospering not only in this sector, but in the larger Imperium itself. I feel on the cusp of something out here that I have never felt before. If you say the Omnissiah guided the beacon to us, then I believe you Ignatio - and trust your advice moving forward. The Emperor has plans for us out here, and we would be wise to listen to His advice."

Alexium unclasped the helmet and breathed in the ship's recycled air once more. They cradled it under their arm and bowed. "Thank you, both, for that. If ever it isn't irreverent, and you know how I love some irreverence, I would like to journey with you again. Torian, we have much to celebrate and Ignatio, much studying to do. Until I see you again."

With that they strode out and left the two to their post-pilgrimage debrief.

Torian stepped foot into the Anatem from the void, removed his voidsuit and returned to his chambers. There was much to ponder, but now was not the time. He put on a particularly fine three piece wool suit, dark grey with pinstripes, and quickly made his way to the bridge. He took his spot on the lord captain's throne, and ordered them into the warp.

For three hours Torian sat upon his throne, tense and patient. He wanted to be ready for whatever came at them upon transition back into reality. He kept his mind focused on the task at hand, but noticed a new appreciation for the vessel around him, the machinery keeping him from agonizing insane death in the raw empyrean. He felt immense power at having such a glorious machine at his use, and a sense of responsibility over it that he had never felt before. He had always simply viewed machines like people - tools to be used and then disposed of. Perhaps he was getting soft as he aged, or his time among this crew was creating some empathy in him: something he had never before desired, but now that it was here, could appreciate. It did feel nice.

The warnings and alarms of re-entry into the void sang through the ship, and Torian sent the usual burst of orders upon arrival in a new system: long rang scans, sweeps of the immediate surroundings, checking whether anything followed them from in from the warp, all armsmen at ready alert 3, etc.

His head snapped towards Valry as they spoke. His response was immediate, pinging his vox to send his orders throughout the ship as needed: "Roderick, bring us around and full acceleration towards the ork vessel, combat and evasive maneuvers as you see fit. Boris, get all weapons systems ready for fire and trained on the orks, fire at will once in range. Ignatio, direct Skitarii towards defense of the vital organs and give me the best performance out of our shields and engines possible. Valry, get me as much information on that Ork vessel as you can: Weak points, threats, anything useful. Andallia, vox that Eldar ship, let us see if we are correct that they are the less threatening of this pair. Brenonya, Victoria, get our troops on high alert and positioned to repel boarding parties, likely Orks. Get them as prepared as you can for what they might face. Ossana, prepare for emergency triage. Stavos, get your teams on standby; be ready for immediate response to ship damage. Ellen, William, take the long-rang scans as they come in from Valry; I want to know where to retreat if we need to. Alexium, do you think it wise to attempt to reach out to the eldar through your choir? Stand ready with them, I don't know what the Orks or Eldar might throw at us. Lethia, did you note anything unusual in our warp travel? Were they visible before transition?"

As with every warp journey, Ignatio was in the gellar field shrine during the last hour before the estimated transition back to real space, carrying through rituals to encourage the machine spirit and observing for any sign of a problem.

His servo-skull, as usual, took his place on the bridge, his eyes, ears, and voice among the command crew. When he registered the observation about the Ork vessel, he was already hastily finalizing his last ritual and leaving the control shrine. The gellar field generators had done their duty admirably, he'd been sure to tell them, but other parts of the ship would now need to serve their purpose.

"Heading to the main drive, Lord-Captian," the servo-skull barked in response to Torian's orders.

The shields would serve well enough until the ship started taking damage, but more speed could be coaxed from the main drive, speed that could make the difference between a swift triumph and a drawn-out, pyrric victory.

Arriving at Anatem's heart, he and the Drivemaster shared a moment of binaric chatter to bring them both up to speed, and then the Magos approached the primary cogitator managing the immense power that gave the ship motion, and therefore life.

While Drivemaster Balfour watched for signs of system failure, Magos Pulsanus opened a panel with his combi-tool and pulled a cord from his sleeve, plugging the MIU connector into the input jack. In concert with the other tech priests, their binary hymns filling the silence, the Magos directed that motion forward with the greatest rapidity.

<Anatem Imperabit Mundus> he transmitted into the cogitator. <In the name of your crew, your dynasty, and humanity, you are called to battle. We fight for you, as we would have you fight for us. Rise.>

Across the whole ship, the sound could be heard and the shudder of acceleration could be felt, as the Anatem's heart answered the call.

Alexium stood on their raised podium near the rear of the bridge as the exit from warp space to real space took hold of the ship. The immediate alarms and orders from Torian put the Astropath on high alert and they listened for their orders.

"Funny thing Lord Captain. You see the Psykana forbids telepathic communion with Xenos, but I won't tell if you don't. If we have no other recourse, then I will see it done." They wore a sneaky grin on their cherubic face.

For the moment, they immediately began reaching out to the crew of the Anatem, joining their souls together in the shared purpose and glory of their mission:


The connection among the crew was strong and Alexium basked in the glory of the action to come.

The bender had been short but intense when he got back to his quarters. He had thanked Torian politely when the special bottle of liquor had been placed in his hand, but he already knew he would never taste it.

Job well done Cousin. Masterful show that was. He prayed to the God Emperor that his glance down at the bottle didn't give him away, I'll be in my quarters until we get ready to leave warp space. I'll see you here when we are ready to make the breach back to real space. He bowed stiffly, hoping it looked more formal than awkward, and left the bridge.

He shook his head after he drained another glassful. What a waste this was. What a waste HE was. If only he had lived, the heights they could have climbed to. Hector was going to lead the house one day. He was the brightest of the children with a stunning career only years away from being realised. Roderick cursed the House of Andraays and their peasant class heir. If he ever met the sonofaslag again, there was not a number big enough to count the pieces he would cut Angus up into. His teeth ground in anger as he pictured his enemy's face, and he spilled the next drink he poured before throwing the glass at the wall in disgust. Another waste. Haast watched over the door from its tower while its master drank, and languished, and raged, and drank until there was nothing left but shattered glass, the lingering smell of ethanol, and the sound of drunken snoring.

Some hours later, Roderick strode confidently onto the bridge to prepare for realspace breach. The bender had done the trick to align his humours again, and somehow he showed no signs of a hangover. He nodded to Torian as he approached the Lord Captain's throne and winked at Alexium as he moved to his own. Haast landed on the back of his throne and assumed a guard position while he was at the controls. Bruce, how's the powerplant output looking? I want to be be able to whip this pony to the gallop at a moment's notice if we have to once we breach realspace. He nodded sharply as a generic All operational, Lord. echoed from somewhere else on the bridge. They would be ready.

They were ready when the ship dropped out of the warp and onto the periphery of a void battle. Torian instantly started barking orders to get all the ships parts moving as one, and Roderick was more than happy to get the Anatem into firing position. Aye, Lord. he barked, as his hands smoothly pressed the ship into the attack. He could feel the reactor begin to hum with greater exertion as their speed increased to close the gap. Lord Captain, I would suggest using our lances from this range, before I bring us to broadside range. We can weaken the Ork vessel's hull while its attention is elsewhere and then pummel it to death from close in.

Wendigo Bob wrote:

The navigator spotted the astronomican. You were at the very edge of the halo zone, and it it was still well visible-it would be fainter soon.

The navigation was well-plotted, but the transition from core to halo perturbed you, until you detected something faint in the distance. It was like a torch flickering in the wind, like the astronomican but lesser, more fragile, but still there in the distance, invisible before the barrier to the halo zone was crossed.

Despite the hard travel, you arrived at a safe location-at the periphery of the system. Valry Mace, master of etherics, started speaking:

Breaking warp, some signals in the vicinity. Oh crap, two vessels in proximity, destroyer-size. One Orkish, one ... eldar I believe? The profile is right, but its far too slow. Likely damaged, the Orkish vessel seems to be in pursuit.

Lethia's well trained third eye spotted the astronomicon, though it was distant....faint. On the edge of the halo stars and from her current vantage point, she felt it like a child stnding on the edge of a cliff. Back towards the lights was safety, but in the dark was an unknown number of predations, including the dark itself. However, a child could simply walk back to the lights, once the astronomicon was obscured, they would be lost in a void of nothing, unable to return without extreme effort. She would then have to rely on instinct over knowledge.
In that regard, she was untested but well prepared.

Time passes, how long she could not tell. She could not use her natural eyes to look at the chronomoters while her throne was open to the madness of the empyrean. What she could gauge time by was the shifts of the pilots she kept in contact with, Roderick mostly.
She gives instructions for them to follow as she guides them along the warp current. It was a gentle current, not yet perturbed by the emotional flow of the denizens of its inhabitants: Here, the fish in the river flowed gentle and in turn the river stayed gentle.

After 2 solid days of travel, she still had not had to utilize the stimulants navigators used to stay awake for weeks at a time, but the was beginning to show the first signs of fatigue, excessive sweat, machining in the bones, ect.

when they had dropped from the sea of souls, she slumps forward in her throne, no longer needing to maintain the 3rd eye's vigil.

Reports began filtering in immediately, but they were not meant for her to solve. The ships were a curious and dangerous anomaly. The eldar were pirates and raiders whose cunning was unmatched, thier goals were sometimes plunder, others....pain and suffering.
She recalled hearing talk that there were actual subspecies of the race, some who lived on the massive craftworlds, some who lived on paradise planets, some who lived in the hell of the webway, and some who were vagrants. She never did any more prodding than that, such knowledge could be dangerous.
The orks were the opposite, brute, clumsy and direct in the extreme. What they lacked in cunning and guile, they made up for in resilience.
She knew from prior naval chatter that there were 3 different subspecies of that race. The ork, the grot, and the squig. They were far too easy to tell apart.

thepooreconomist wrote:

"Roderick, bring us around and full acceleration towards the ork vessel, combat and evasive maneuvers as you see fit. Boris, get all weapons systems ready for fire and trained on the orks, fire at will once in range. Ignatio, direct Skitarii towards defense of the vital organs and give me the best performance out of our shields and engines possible. Valry, get me as much information on that Ork vessel as you can: Weak points, threats, anything useful. Andallia, vox that Eldar ship, let us see if we are correct that they are the less threatening of this pair. Brenonya, Victoria, get our troops on high alert and positioned to repel boarding parties, likely Orks. Get them as prepared as you can for what they might face. Ossana, prepare for emergency triage. Stavos, get your teams on standby; be ready for immediate response to ship damage. Ellen, William, take the long-rang scans as they come in from Valry; I want to know where to retreat if we need to. Alexium, do you think it wise to attempt to reach out to the eldar through your choir? Stand ready with them, I don't know what the Orks or Eldar might throw at us. Lethia, did you note anything unusual in our warp travel? Were they visible before transition?"

Without raising her head she hits the button to respond. "I saw.....a beacon, like that of the astronomicon, but smaller, faint. It flickered like a dying candle, but still discernable. I did not see any traces of the xenos ships. They have not plied the warp recently."

She didnt mention that the eldar didn't have too, they had the webway. Master Torian would already know that. There might even be a possibility the ork ship was not void capable.

After wrapping the meeting with her captains and as the ship came out of warp and alarms were roaring in, she sprung to high alert. Still in her carapace armor, she told Torain, "Aye aye, Lord Torian." She voxxed the militia to prepare for boarding parties of Orks and Eldar on the double. Then contacted her own team of serfs, servitors, and tech priests to prep her power armor. And as they anointed it with oils and incense, she stripped off her carapace armor. Then with her team's help into her skin tight suit as they anointed her as well, it was at this point by happenstance that Aleixum's voice began the prayer.

She spoke it aloud and her team followed her lead. The scout sized power armor took much less of a struggle to put on than that of the bulkier variety, she appreciated the ability to maneuver fast and through areas that other armored allies might be able to. As they bolted on the armor to her legs she remembered Torian's ritual, and thought about how the God Emperor and the Omnissiah were one and the same.

What is the difference between her legs with or without the power armor, and that was the will of the Immortal Emperor of Man had bestowed upon her his protection and strength with the power armor on. The Emperor's forgiveness gave her back her legs though that was too weak to do much more than act as a meat shield for the visiting Adepta Sororitas. Much like the Mechanicus found god in their machines, so did she find her own.

The team that had assembled this awe-inspiring suit of armor around her crept back away. She took her chain sword in one hand and repeated the line, "From the filth and ignorance of the Ork, Our Emperor, deliver us." In blurts of code and hushed voices, the serfs, servitors, and tech priests responded back as if to beseech her to do this for them. She nodded and called for her attache of knights to assemble together at the bridge to await further orders.

Torian sat deeply embedded within his command throne, the sounds of the bridge buzzing in his ears. Normally he sat upright on the throne, with a view outwards over the Bridge crew and the observation dome. Now, however, in combat, the throne shifted backwards and lifted up, giving him a more direct view of the observation dome and allowing for the swarm of screens to fully encapsulate Torian in data-feeds. He flicked through them with the deftness of a musician playing a favored instrument: checking new scans as they came in, seeing that his orders were indeed being carried out, sending teams to aid crew where needed, responding to urgent calls for his attention as they came in. There was far more data than any flesh-based individual could absorb in such a short timespan, yet he noted in his skimming a lack in data. This was something that required his individual, immediate attention. His voice rang out over the vox, automatically overriding the hum of intervox traffic. "Valry, I'm taking access to the Augur arrays momentarily. Partition the necessary power and sensors for a focused long-range scan." He spoke quickly and calmly, his hands already pulling the right data-screens to him and beginning to access the proper data tools to adjust aiming mechanisms, focusing lenses, and combining overlapping scanners into one comprehensive scan.



Roderick's hands danced with the control sticks of the Mundus, guiding it to a new vector. He was still quietly amazed at the ships responsiveness and maneuverability. He pulled on the right stick, feeling the push from behind as the engine checked down, while pushing slightly forward with the left to adjust their course to starboard. The resistance changed hands as the left stick opened up and the energy could find release once more. A fine mount indeed. If he could get the ship more side on to the ork vessel, they'd be able to deliver a full opening salvo rather than a single lance beam to announce their arrival to the theatre. Far more fitting. Adjusting course, Lord Captain, to bring us behind that beast. We should be able to fire everything we have as a hello to the greenskins.

As you maneuvered into position, the space battle continued as if you werent even there. The eldar vessel was heavily damaged, limping along without even a holofield to protect it. The orkish vessel fired seven macrocannon salvoes, and even though only one hit, several large pieces detacted from the eldar vessel. It did not have long to remain.

Map Turn2:

The Magos felt the ship answer the demands that its void-master put it through, felt the retro-thrusters heat as they fired at full blast. The input from the helm came through to him, and comparing what Lord Roderick was trying to do to the ship's projections, he found the two did not align.

That would not do.

++Apologies Drivemaster, I must override the standard limitors++ he announced as he assumed direct control, generating estimates of what each thruster could handle without damage based on the schematics and understanding of their materials he possessed rather than the conventional standards.

Once again, the Anatem answered his call, seeming eager to unleash its full potential.

The controls went slightly slack in Roderick's grip as he gave the ship its head and it stretched out below him. He gave the count of 4 void units before bring the ship to port at 45 degrees and continuing on a closer arc to the Ork vessel. The same tension build up and bleed could be felt as before, but this time he could also feel the hunger of the ship as they came within prime range of their macro batteries. Someone below was working their magic. We're in position to fire, Lord Captain. Let's kick them in the ass



Alexium remained seated at their raised dais at the rear of the bridge. Legs folded and arms resting on their shins, they breathed deeply and repeated the mantra. The crew felt strong and gathered; eager to get into the fight and show what the Anatem was capable of.

The mantra came out less than words in everyone's mind now and more of a feeling. It was now a mental bonding, all of their souls working in unison as one.


Lethia entered the command deck from the elevator leading to her throne higher in the command spire. She had a large clock wrapped around her frame as the sweat and cool darkness of the recycled air was causing her to shiver. They were already engaged by that time, but she could do more than watch.

Already they were straining to turn the ship to strike the ork vessel port side."Master Roderick, engage the...."
She knew this, those thrusters had a name and could give them the extra boost to line the guns. Her words faltered as she moved to one of the many piloting stations. Moving the tech aside she starts running her finger down the many thousands of components, looking for the one she needed.
"Dam!" She says in frustration. Her head was still in a fog from 2 days of warp travel


"Good flying, Cousin. Valry, see if you can get our port macrobatteries locked on to the Orks. Boris, prepare port macrobatteries and dorsal lance for firing, I'm taking control of the firing mechanisms." Torian voxed down to Bren in the depths of the ship as she prepped the armsmen for repelling boarders: "Sister, see what you can do about getting some extra effort out of our gunnery crews for the next while, I'm preparing a full volley."

As he shifted the screens around him to better access the weapons systems, he began pulling together the mass of weaponry that constituted the port macrobatteries into the same targeting vector, and beginning the agonizingly slow process of moving the enormous dorsal lance systems into alignment. He could see within the data Boris shunting additional power to the weapons systems as needed, and getting the lance batteries charged to their staggering total before they could be fired.

...

10 minutes later, Torian could see they weren't going to get a lock on the orks; the etherics were too shaky at the moment and wouldn't stay steady long enough for Valry to lock on. "Keep on it Valry, see if we can get it for the next volley."




In her head, Bren conjures up the day a swarm of giant arthropods broke into her compound and murdered some of her extended family. And over the vox channels to the crew the blood curdlng scream heard throughout the ship might as well had been death itself for all the crew of the Anatem knew, what she said was not entirely comprehensible but the overall theme of her brutal essay regarding what she'd do to all of them in the after life if they lost came across pretty clearly.


Torian waited patiently as the crew broke their backs getting the weapons cycling at their maximum possible rate and the lance batteries charged to full. He thought he could even feel a faint hum through the hull with the pent up energy. He saw Roderick pressing the ship to its limits, and at the end of the maneuver, it was time to let loose. He sent the order, and unleashed the macrobatteries. Kilotons of munitions blasted out of the Anatem, screaming through the void until they began to break upon the Ork void shields. More and more and more munitions slammed into the void shields... more and more until the first continued on and began to explode against the armored hull of the ork vessel. Thousands followed, creating a near smoke-screen of debris around the ship. This was the moment Torian was waiting for. He pulled down his multi-scope and latched it over his right eye, closing his left. He flicked scopes over the eye port like an optometry test, looking for the perfect alignment, aiming tighter and tighter along the projected line. He extended his right hand next to the firing mechanism, and calmly pressed downwards. The dorsal lance blazed into life, sending a searing beam outwards with the intensity of a small star. The beam pierced into the Ork ship, instantly melting its way through their reinforced armor and burning its way into their barracks.

___________________________


The macrocannon shots first occupied the void shields, then struck the heavy armor of the ork ship, doing no damage-if anything, it provided more armor for the erratically constructed vessel. The lances had more luck however, doing limited damage but cutting deep, directly into the ship's living quarters. The barracks burst into flame, condemning thousands of boyz, who's voice resonated outwards in anger on the radio-waves and in the warp. The fire lept through the decks, snaking its ways through the living quarters as closing bulkheads attempted to contain it. The fire appeared to enter the bridge, but it seemed to snuff out quickly there, finding no fuel amongst its thick armor.

The ork vessel had other priorities-after a pitifully innacurate shot in your direction from its dorsal cannons, ts mekboys overcharged the engines in an attempt to ram the tiny eldar vessel. It easily evaded, performing a stall maneuver, reducing its speed to nothing, and firing its strange wraithbone lances. An array of smaller laser shots ripped into the dorsal section, scratching out large gashes and exposing the section to space-likely disabling the dorsal cannon for a short time, as the boyz got used to the void.

Map Turn3:

[/quote]

The Anatem had given Lord MacCoinneach what he'd demanded of it, but pulling itself back into firing position had cancelled most of the change in momentum which had carried them to this point. Ignatio watched the projected curves of momentum carrying the Anatem back out of a useful firing position, and only by exceeding the orthodox limits of technology once again could they maintan optimal range.

A sudden sensation of heat and pain alerted the Magos to a problem as he kept the Anatem's retros at maximum burn. A coolant line had melted the bracket holding it in place and was in danger of coming detached.

++Drivemaster, this engine pattern must be maintined.++ he informed Balfour, uploading a pattern of instructions to the noosphere. He was barely in range to hear the Drivemaster's acknowledgement as he rushed from the Drive-Temple.

Robes catching the air behind him as he ran, Ignatio didn't slow for a moment while the ship's internal corridors shifted to guide him to where he needed to be. He rounded a corner and slid to a stop in the middle of a corridor, catching himself on one elbow while a small team of armsmen turned in surprise at the sudden advance, their alertness causing them to bring their weapons to bear at the possible threat.

The Magos paid them no mind, confident that his armor would absorb any shot they took. Fortunately they recognized that a red robed figure was unlikely to be an Ork, and eased off of their triggers.

The metal floorplate was hot, nearly burning to the touch, and squealed in protest as Ignatio pulled bolts loose with his spinning combi-tool and pried the floor panel aside, broadcasting a stream of apologetic prayer. Beneath the plate, the coolant line bulged, barely able to contain the flow he'd pushed through it. If it failed, the casing of one of the starboard retros would melt.

That could not be allowed.

Pouring a splash of sacred ungeaunt over the line, Ignatio opened a release valve to vent the coolant into a backup tank, where it could be collected later.

From this location, he could hear the retro-thruster continuing to fire, and allowed the sense of satisfaction building in his emotional centers to wash over him. Sending instructions to a lower ranking adept to replace the floor plate, he pulled himself back up to his feet and quickly rushed back to the Anatem's Heart.

The mantra repeated again and the words-turned-feelings solidified in the minds and souls of the crew. With their shared purpose, they were all stronger. Such was a universal rule. The twig alone broke easily, but bundled together had the strength of a log.

The Anatem crew would not break.

The ship shook as the volleys from the macro cannons tore across space to pummel the xenos craft. The power unleashed could even be felt in the controls as he pulled the ship around into a tighter arc to port. He lifted the nose of the ship so they could pass above the Eldar vessel and still have a line of fire on their quarry. He couldn't help but feel that this engagement was quickly turning from a battle into a hunt.

And as she continued to talk she remembered when her immediate family's home was ransacked by Hyperion's monstrous insectoid inhabitants, and her tone shifted to an apologetic one. Sorrowful for not being able to save them from the torment she would subject them to if they failed. Then the vox became garbled and if you were paying hard enough attention before it cut out with a wailing "I'm sorry!" you might have heard her begin a round of self flagellation and babbling even more incoherently to the God Emperor for forgiveness.

Every now and then the chemical cocktail from her suit bottomed out into flashbacks of Hyperion. Physically she could perform in this state without any noticeable shift. Mentally though she could go into a frenzy state or melt into the void and lose herself until she had wherewithal to beg the Omnissiah to ignore her moments of weakness. Her CO's back with the Adeptus Sororitas saw it as a tactical strength overall.

Your ship continued to thunder out steel, wiping out the void-shields but doing little to the hull; orkish vessels where clearly meant to take far more punishment than any imperial vessel. The single lance-beam streamed forth, slicing though armor and heavily scarring the auspex array.

The ork vessel wasnt giving up yet however-it charged forward, trying to do a tight turn in hope of returning to firing range. Voidsuited grots swarmed over the ship's outer surface, repairing the auspexes to regain vision. The fire, however, seemd to spread to a series of odd totems and faces on the ship's surface, damaging them but ultimately making them more menacing.

The eldar vessel accelerated, keeping a low speed, and let out another series of blasts from its wraithbone lance. It tore a series of gashes in the ship, missing any critical part by severely weakening hull integrity. The ork ship was starting to release pieces of the hull, but it was still hanging in there!

Map-Turn 4:

The Magos returned to the Anatem's Heart, not missing a step as he answered the Drivenmaster's objections with rapid-fire binaric explanations. Returning to his station at the Heart's cogitator core, he plugged his MIU jack back in and opened his mind to communion with the Anatem's machine spirit.
And nearly lost himself.
The ship reached out and pulled him in. He instantly understood that the Anatem knew exactly what was needed, but only required a human mind to consider and consent. And his augmented cortex was actually capable of keeping up.
Ignatio left his body, and became the Anatem.
He saw the beautiful perfection of each movement, and the answers to his prayers confirmed them. He felt the emptiness and mourning the ship had for what it has lost. And, the two acting as parts of a whole, he and the Anatem danced between the stars.

As this occured, the ship caressed Ignatio's mind and held it in its bosom of light. As long as he stayed here, he would be safe. Secure. There was a distance still, like a mother holding a child back from the stove. But there was much wisdom to be won yet...

As unusually powerful as the family's ship was, there was yet more fuel in the tank for Roderick to draw from. The power continued to build in the sticks as he maneuvered, and it took a force of will not to put his feet on the dash of his throne to keep control. He's about to run through the bit, he grunted through a hungry grin as he thought back to stallion breaking on Dalmore. I'm going to have to buy someone a drink down below for getting this much out of this beast. Truly marvellous.

Alexium continued to push the crew to greater cohesion, feeling the successes of both the ship's maneuvers and attacks.

Torian attempted as best possible to keep his alignment with the scopes as the ship around him exerted g-forces in different directions as Roderick brought them around, but know this was going to be a far harder shot. They were farther away, there was no lock-on. He took the shots and saw the battery make minor impact on the shield, not even enough to pop it, and saw the lance blaze past the ship. It was not to be this time, but now they were facing the right way. Their next shots would be easier to make count

The orkish ship, seeing a little less fire than before and with its void-shield untouched for once, slid through space like a drunk man sliping on a frozen pond. The anatem was finally in her sights-a difficult shot from this range, but a pair of hits made their way, the first absorbed by your void-shield, the second striking the anatem's midsection to little effect.

The eldar repositioned themselves to have the orkz in their field, and fire a laser-swarm that was easily neutralized by the void-field. This did leave your shots totally open however.

Map-Turn 5:

Ignatio sank into the cybernetic caress of the Anatem's spirit. The sensation of warmth and love resonated with a deep, almost-forgotten aspect of his human soul.

Then the impact of the ork ship's macro-projectile impacted the hull, and his emotion centers flipped to a different response.

The Ship-mother was in danger. That Ork monster had attacked her.

No.

The plasma drive and retro-thrusters blazed.

Alexium continued the harmonious feelings among the crew. They could sense the pressure and anxiety to do well and sought to ease that where possible.

Lethia had stayed near the piloting cogitation consoles, assisting Roderick's piloting as much as he could.
It was not doing him much good. It was cursed luck that found them exit the warp into a realspace battle. Her brain suffered from the rigors of warp travel. None outside the varied navigator houses truly understood what toils this life had on them.
She wipes the cold sweat of her shiverring brow, trying to concentrate on the situation. Once the Anatem had entered the fray, the battle had changed. Now the three ships were beginning to settle into a cosmic rhythm, like wastewater from the lavatories.
Each ship had the potential to break the dance in its own way, but would they?

She thinks, how would the eldar react her? she thought the most likely action was to break off and wait for a more oppritune time to strike. They were piratical raiders after all. It meant they had a speciffic objective in mind here. She filed that for later.
The orks? they will not break off unless the leaders themselves are threatened with overwhelming firepower. Otherwise they would soon attempt to start boarding.
She shivered at the thought, or the cold, it didnt matter. What did matter was forcing the orks to disengages as quickly as possible.

*****************

Bren took a deep breathe, imagined herself, as she had so many times in an impromptu hovel or fortunate cave on Hyperion, singlehandedly destroying the gigantic insectoids. She would in her dreams be wielding a massive flamer, and her eyes sparkled as the imaginary specters of her past turned into ash. Having gathered her mental state back to nominal, over the Vox she gruffly whispered loud enough for it to cut through personal chatter, "Roderick, I will personally burn down your new ship if this battle goes any way but in our favor. Do it for the God Emperor, Hot Rod, do it for your new toy." Smiling, she switched off the Vox connection thinking to herself, "that went well."

Roderick continued to bring the ship around to port in a tight arc. They were in a swirling dance with the ork vessel, and if he could continue to get this much out of the controls it wouldn't take long before they had the upper hand. Seeing the Eldar vessel aid them in dropping the Greenskin's void shields meant it was only a matter of time before victory was theirs.

The macrocannon fire was finally reaching sufficient density to harm-however little-the ork ship. The shots resonated through the heavy metal structure, heavily damaging the void-field generators. The bright lance-fire crippled the ship, multiple small explosions slowing its speed significantly and hampering its sensors and maneuvrability.

As the ork vessel flailed about, it made one last attempt at attack the anatem, most of its macrocannon shots going wide, with the volleys that didnt being absorbed by your void-shield. The eldar ship, seeing its opportunity, unloaded a series of las-blasts at point-blank range, tearing through the ship and hulking the vessel, who's plasma drives sputtered out as the now-breached hull fell apart.

Map-Turn 6:

As the battle wrapped up, and the hulk drifted away, a crude electronic signal started hailing you. Clearly it was little more than a vox-unit, energised for the greater expanses of the void. The voice that spoke had an odd, lilting accent, showing just the barest fluency in an older dialect of low gothic.

+++The people of Fruth'aras thank you, hu'mans, for you ass'istance. Under normal circum'stance we would have fled, but they took us by sur'prise. From whence do you hail, that we may thank you pro'perly?+++

Torian brought his throne to upright, smiling in an unequivocal victory. He voxed through the crew, personally thanking many for their fine efforts although not yet approving stand-down to begin. Upon hearing the hail, Torian responded promptly, "We welcome the people of Fruth'aras. We are the Filianatis Trading Dynasty, hailing from the Imperium of Mankind and bearing the Warrant of Trade of the God-Emperor himself, may his eternal light shine ever onwards. We are in this sector in search of archeotechnology and wealth. Are you in need of medical assistance or immediate repairs?"

Alexium's mind gently faded from the minds of the crew as the cherubic astropath's breathing returned to normal. The bridge was still not one would call calm, but the feelings of joy mixed with adrenaline could hardly be faulted. This was an enormous victory for the crew.

Not only had they rid this system of an ork menace, they had done so after immediate Warp transition. A scenario often practiced for, but which the most veteran of crews would have had trouble with.

Not to mention, they were now in open communication with the elusive Eldar. A thrill of excitement worked its way through the small psyker as they rose from their seated position and made their way over to Roderick.

"That was top-notch flying, Hot Rod. I don't believe I've seen you fly so expertly since our first days together. I'll be buying the drinks tonight. What do you make of these Eldar? I am of the mind we befriend them and take sexual partners with them at once."

thepooreconomist wrote:

"We welcome the people of Fruth'aras. We are the Filianatis Trading Dynasty, hailing from the Imperium of Mankind and bearing the Warrant of Trade of the God-Emperor himself, may his eternal light shine ever onwards. We are in this sector in search of archeotechnology and wealth. Are you in need of medical assistance or immediate repairs?"

No, with the danger gone we should be able to get back into the webway to effect repairs. Any ally against ruinous powers is of value. As a reward for your kind service, we will gift you with a map holoprojector, that should aid you in avoiding some of the more significant dangers in the region. This system in particular is infected with orks, and is at the border of their current holdings.


A smattering of discussion occurs in the background in a language none of you understand.

I apologize for the rush, but it seems our scryers detect an orkish fleet that should arrive in less than 12 hours. We will just have the time to reach the webway portal. We will deposit the holoprojector in a wraithbone pod at our current location. Showing it to any craftworld eldar you meet should certainly help mollify them. This is Pathfinder Lorenon, signing out unless you have any immediate concerns.

Alexium makes sure Torian can see that they want to say something. Assuming they get the nod, they quickly chime in:

"Pathfinder Lorenon, this is Head of the Astropathic Choir Alexium Dineh. Our thanks for your gracious gift, and a pleasure to fight alongside you. Should the need to reach out and find you or your people telepathically arise, are there any suggested parameters for open mental communication? I am not familiar enough with your kind and do not wish to upset any psychic waves or balances."