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Thread: Eclipsis - IC

  1. #1
    Chapter Master FarseerMatt's Avatar
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    Eclipsis - IC


    The briefing gallery was a huge space, set deep in the bowels of the Governor Seydlitz. In a sense it was a place of devotion as well as briefing, the place where soldiers were imparted with the information that would enable them to carry out the Emperor’s divine work, their valour on the battlefield the purest form of worship. This sense of holy instigation was reflected in the high vaulted ceiling and the golden doors that arched three metres high at one end, split open down the centre of a vast bas relief Aquila. At the opposite end of the room, in front of a large oval holo-projector, was a raised dais with a pulpit for an officer to stand and give address, visible from every point in the hall. In the absence of the regimental chaplain, a devotional servitor crouched below the pulpit, swinging a gilded censor back and forth in spidery hands to sanctify the air.

    Near the pulpit, the mahogany-skinned lieutenant Blake watched the servitor for a moment with his expressive brown eyes before turning his appraising gaze back towards his senior NCO. Colour sergeant Pilgrim was shorter and more thickset than his superior; while Blake’s face was round and honest Pilgrim’s was severe, accentuated by the sharply trimmed hair and beard that framed it.

    “Is it true, sir?” the colour sergeant asked carefully, “That the xenos can mess with our heads?”

    Blake clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m not going to lie to you, colour sergeant. The after-action reports from Schattenwelt make for pretty grim reading. Waking nightmares, hallucinations, even spontaneous suicide on the battlefield. But our fellow Imperials are holding the line, and now it’s our job to finish the affair. No matter what blasphemous abilities these xenos are wielding, we’ll drive them back to where they came from. In the Emperor’s name.”

    “In the Emperor’s name, sir.” Pilgrim replied dutifully.

    “I’m getting ahead of myself.” Blake smiled thinly as he heard the tramping of feet beyond the arched doorway. “Best I explain things where everyone can hear, eh? Colour sergeant, if you would do the honours.”

    Both men turned towards the company of Delphic soldiers approaching down the long corridor.

    “Triarii!” Pilgrim roared in his best parade ground voice, “Fall in!”

    “AYE!” came the universal response as the Imperial Guardsmen broke into a jog and split to either side in a well-drilled wave of movement, filling the room and forming up into their squads. They were fresh from the training galleries, sweat-streaked and with their weapons still in their hands. Every man wore the dark grey and black fatigues they had been issued with for the Schattenwelt intervention - the shadowy camouflage starkly out of place in this brightly lit hall of steel and gold, but perfect for the continual twilight of Schattenwelt’s dark season.

    Blake recognised every face in the company - there was meltagunner Lehner, the man from Stranix who’s irascible nature totally contradicted the laid-back stereotype traditionally associated with that idyllic island chain. Of course, what the Orks had done to Stranix would have given any man cause to turn bitter and hateful. Behind him was Corbec, the parallel Ork claw-marks that raked his forehead failing to detract from his chiselled good looks as he shared a joke with Martos and Fitzgerald. Forming up in sergeant Cameron’s second squad were the adopted offworlder O’Rourke and the grizzled and taciturn Vicario, behind their dependable point man DuGrae. In the third squad under Ferro, the soldiers talked animatedly among themselves, all except Nyl who remained grim and focussed. Nyl was one of the company’s most haunted and hard-bitten soldiers, despite his young age. In amongst the grenadier squad was corporal Klemens, his face hidden behind his closed helmet, but recognisable by the distinctive lasgun he cradled which was a carryover from his original homeworld.

    The command squad detached themselves from the jostling guardsman and ran to join Blake and Pilgrim. Leading them was sergeant Mainwering, the huge autolaser she carried almost dwarfing her small frame. Another offworlder, she had nevertheless trained most of this company with a discipline every bit as blunt and brutal as the gun she carried. The officer and his colour sergeant accepted her salute, and turned to face the now ranked up guardsmen.

    “Triarii!” Pilgrim shouted as Blake ascended the pulpit alongside the ceremonial servitor, “Ten-shun!”

    There was a loud thump as fifty right feet stamped in unison against their left counterparts. At the pulpit, lieutenant Blake crossed his hands over his chest and made the sign of the Aquila.

    “Let us pray.” he said.
    Last edited by FarseerMatt; 09-05-2012 at 18:44.

  2. #2
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    Ky had to restrain the urge to snort as the Louie bowed his head. Finding out she'd be assigned to the front lines with a notably pious command echelon came as an unpleasant surprise, having been in some nasty situations under men too convinced in the Emperor's beneficence to know to run the frak away when necessary. She'd never held any truck with Emperor-botherers, figuring from experience that the Man on High was too damn busy to deal with little folk, especially ones as little as she was.

    Still, she didn't deny it got the troops riled up proper, which meant she had to shout at them less. Ev'ry cloud's gotta silver lining, I just need to grapple 'em down, rip the stuff out and use it for a pair of goddamn earrings.

    With a slight but noticeable hesitation she followed her CO's lead. No point pissing off the Louie this early. If he's feelin' more like listenin' to me we might just get outta this hellhole with our skins intact. Wouldn't that be a surprise.
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  3. #3
    Chapter Master No-One's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    Fenix stood stoically, wrists shackled and chained to the floor, ankles barred and chained together, his massive bulk glistening with sweat. They never turned off the heat of the cell, leaving him with a permanent sting as the salt of his sweat many the slices the lash had left marring his back. It had been a while though, so Fenix assumed the Commissariat had been occupied elsewhere. Silence now dominated the cell, almost as profoundly as Fenix's massive size did.

    Through the air duct, Fenix heard the pounding of boots, the Triarii being called into formation. He heard the call for attention. He heard the boots of his brothers-in-arms slam to attention. When Blake spoke the next words, "Let us pray." Fenix pulled his arms together as close as he could, not able to make the sign of the Aquilla, but getting as close as he was able. His hands barely touched his chest. Through all of his punishment, this was the one that hurt Fenix most, not being able to show devotion to the Emperor properly. He growled low in his throat as a single tear streaked down his cheek but pushed aside his rage and found peace in his following words.

    "Emperor be my strength when my faith falters. Emperor be my fury when I strike my foe. Emperor be the light that shines in the dark always. Emperor forgive me of my sins, that I might serve you unswervingly. Emperor cleanse me of darkness, that I might strike with your light. Emperor harden my flesh, that I might endure in your name. Emperor be the mail about my fist and the sword in my hand, that I might bring wrath upon the enemies of the Imperium. In your holy name I pray, Emperor of mankind, may the Imperium never fall." The words came from cracked lips, hoarse and strained, but proud.

    They were getting closer to their destination. They would need Fenix.
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  4. #4
    Chapter Master 2_heads_talking's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    Julio bowed his head at his Lieutenant's command, eyes closing as his arms made the sign of the Aquila.

    "The Emperor is our guiding light, a beacon of hope for Humanity in a galaxy of darkness..." he silently intoned, beginning the standard Libation to the Emperor. As he continued, however, his hands clenched from splayed fingers to tight balls of flesh, shaking ever so slightly as they whitened with the pressure. Then, a completely different prayer filled his head.

    "Oh Lord Emperor, look after those who have fallen in your service. For Sergeant Mercutio, allow him the honour of a place at your side; for Juan Dominix, may his cup never fall empty at your table; for Elisa Hayek..."

    On and on he continued, the names of each of his old comrades sliding silently from his lips in a flood. He felt himself tensing, shaking slightly, and he was unsure how long he stood reciting the names of the fallen before he sucked in a sharp lungful of air.

    "And, oh benevolent Emperor, please look after your servant in this foreign land, amongst foreign people. Allow them to become my new family, to fill the holes I feel so painfully in my soul."

    "Ave Imperator", Julio said quietly, the first words he'd spoken aloud throughout the entire prayer, dropping his hands, lifting his head and returning to attention.
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    "Imagine fear is a wall of fire. A brave man is not a blind man, who cannot see the flames. A truly brave man walks through the fire and emerges stronger, with his spirit tempered by the courage of his action."

    Blood Angels Sergeant Laertes, Harbinger of Despair, 736.M41

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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    Gerald stood at attention with the rigorous precision beaten into him since indoctrination. Burdened and exercised as he was Gerald stoically stood and folded his arms in prayer. When the Lieutenant called them to prayer Gerald suppressed a sigh. Like a dutiful soldier he positioned his hands into the traditional Aquila and stared down. When it came to making declarations of faith Gerald O’Rourke was a man of deeds over words. While muttering in prayer with the others he let his mind wander as it was want to do when able.

    Gerry, Gerry, Gerry... course your new chief’d be a damned Redemptionist. Fantastic! Whatever next?

  6. #6
    Chapter Master Dakkagor's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    The mess hall rang with tin plates and mugs hitting tables as the company sat down to eat. The room stank of sweaty bodies, the pap the munitorum staffers were serving, and the faint tang of recycled air. The entire company had been jogging a circuit around the hull in full kit, keeping in shape for the coming deployment.

    "Here comes trouble." muttered Pvt Anna Fitzgerald, nodding her head in the direction of the figure who had just collected his tray and was now walking towards the table being used by Kendalee, Anna and Varro.

    "Frag my life." Muttered Kendalee, pushing his tray away. "Emperors balls, I've just lost me appetite. Last thing I need is Lance Corporal Nasty Bastard in my face."

    "He's not so bad." offered Anna. "He's a professional at least, more than can be said for you two chuckle heads. He's serious about what he does, that's all. I can appreciate that, given what he went through."

    "Yeah, but Fitz, he likes you." Offered Varro as he toyed with his unappetising food, pushing it around the plate and hoping for a divine miracle of transubstantiation into something edible. "The look he gives your average trooper, I think Commissars are friendlier."

    "Troopers" Lehner nodded to them and stood by an empty seat. "This one taken?"
    "Not at all!" interjected Anna, before either Varro could lie badly, or Kendalee could start a fight. It was no secret in the unit that the severe, intense Lehner and the foul mouthed, outgoing Kendalee where at each others throats most of the time. Sgt Stannard let it slide because Lehner was a genius with a meltagun, and Kendalee was a solid rifleman, and he wanted to keep them both in his squad.
    "Good run today." Lehner sat down and bowed his head in prayer. As the others watched, he muttered a quiet prayer of thanks to the Emperor for the meal, then tucked in. Varro was incredulous.
    "You're thankful for this crap?" He pushed the plate away. "Its swill, not fit for a human being, let alone a Grox from my uncles farm!"
    Lehner paused mid chew, looking up at Varro. Kendalee and Anna both swore under their breaths.
    "Varro, for a start you're a guardsman, a state of being lower than a Grox." This drew a laugh from Kendalee and Anna, as it was an old joke in the squad. "And for a second, I am indeed thankful, for every day and every meal. In Stranix people got so hungry they resorted to eating the dead and trying to eat ork flesh. Which is highly toxic, I might add. They would have been thankful for this food. But seeing as you're not hungry." He reached over and grabbed Varro's tray, scraping the contents of Varro's plate onto his own. "You can be thankful you don't have to eat it."
    Varro sat with his arms crossed, trying not to be embarrassed and angry as Lehner ate his dinner and Kendalee and Anna laughed at him between mouthfuls.

    ******

    Lehner had filed into the hall with his squad, carrying his gently cooling meltagun in his arms like it was his only child. He had formed up with the squad at the barked orders, and had smiled as the Lieutenant bowed his head in prayer. He did the same, deciding that if the Lieutenant was truly a pious man, then the next few weeks of deployment would be bearable atleast. He really hadn't shared many words with the Lieutenant, despite being up on charges at least once. So far the commissars had always managed to keep his problems from hitting the commanders desk. He bowed his head and silently prayed, as he had always been taught. The emperor didn't need to hear his words when he spoke them, and believed them, in his heart.

    Immortal Emperor, whom rules forever from his ageless throne, place your blessing on your faithful servant, whom gladly offers his life on the altar of service in your glorious name. Protect me from the perfidious alien and the forces of the archenemy, and lead me not into tempation. Deliver me My emperor from the evils of this galaxy, the false teachings of heretics, and give me the strength to smite the alien, the traitor, the mutant, the witch, the xeno, and the daemon. Amen.
    In Service to Xana!
    An Adeptus Mechanicus log with a decidely evil feel: updated 15/6/10!!

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  7. #7
    Chapter Master Felwether's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    Vincent stood quietly amongst his squad mates, slouching; shoulders hunched. He was the youngest amongst them by a good margin and shared little in common with most, other than the war, and he had little desire to engage with them. They talked amongst themselves, laughing raucously and jostling for room as more units filed into the gallery. Vincent raised his eyes to the great vaulted ceiling above and wished he was somewhere else. His knuckles turned bone-white as he balled his fists by his side.

    Vincent’s gaze levelled. The wiry form Sergeant Marcus Ferro was striding briskly towards his squad, shoulders back, chest out as always and with a familiar scowl etched across his ruddy features. He seemed to bear that scowl permanently, as though he were about to burst into a fit of rage at any moment. Vincent liked Sergeant Ferro, the older man was from a region not far from his home and his accent reminded him of his previous life on the vast rolling grasslands of the Amna Plains. He tried to follow the gruff NCO’s example whenever he could.

    “Eyes front!” He barked. “Save it for the fokken mess hall ja. You’re on my time now.”

    The banter stopped immediately and Ferro fell in next to his unit as Colour Sergeant Pilgrim’s voice boomed around the room, echoing on the high ceiling, calling the assembled Triarii to attention. The briefing had begun.

    “Let us pray.”

    Vincent somewhat reluctantly bowed his head, forming the sign of the Aquila across the carbine that hung around his neck. He was itching to get some use out of it.
    Blessed is the mind too small for doubt.

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  8. #8
    Chapter Master FarseerMatt's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    The religious observances discharged, Lt Blake slipped immediately into the businesslike persona of an experienced platoon officer. Actions on the battlefield were a soldier's true prayers, and as it said in the Ministorum scriptures: faith without deeds was worthless.

    "In 24 hours." Blake said, "We drop out of the Warp with the rest of the fleet, in orbit around Schattenwelt. As you know, our task is to relieve the PDF from the ongoing xenos attack.* Our astropaths have been in contact with their opposite numbers on Schattenwelt and we now have a good grasp of the strategic and tactical situation. More importantly, we now have a face for our enemy."

    He tapped a rune on the podium and the holo-display behind him flickered to life, projecting a rotating image of a grotesque alien life form. It resembled nothing so much as a giant centipede reared up on its hinder legs, with four long appendages near the front which gripped the tubes of some complicated xenos weapon system. Its domed head was concealed behind a closed, spherical helmet with no visible visor, and dark bands of armour ribbed its segmented body.

    "The locals call these aliens Crawlers," Blake explained. "Until the Administratum can come up with a better name, anyway. This is one of their footsoldiers."

    "I hate bugs." muttered private Kreutzmann, the tall and angular trooper whose primary talents were complaining, and shattering any preconceptions formed about him by the former with his sterling battlefield performance. Lehner stealing his breakfast clearly hadn't improved his mood.

    On his left side private Kendalee Martos, who was arguably the prettiest member of the platoon until she opened her mouth, formed her hands into a spider and crawled them up Kreuzmann's arm. He slapped her away irritably.

    "Don't." he said. "Fokking hate them."

    Martos smiled sweetly. "Don't tell me you're afraid of some overgrown centipedes from the **** end of the motherfokking sector?"

    "What's the matter, Varro?" grinned private Corbec from Kreuzmann's other side,"Bad feeling?" Their squad was towards the back, near the door, and so could murmur amongst themselves with less chance of drawing the ire of Lt Blake up front. Provided they didn't annoy Lehner or sergeant Stannard first of course.

    "Rueben, me old mate," replied Kreutzmann, "Words can't describe the bad feeling I'm getting about this campaign."

    "Fokker's getting witchy." Martos teased him.

    Beside her private Anna Fitzgerald, universally known as "Fitz", turned her pointed face towards Kreuzmann and twisted her mouth. "My sister used to get witchy. Next thing we knew an inquisitor turned up and hauled her off on a Black Ship."

    "That **** ain't funny, Fitz." Kreuzmann growled.

    "No." the other private agreed earnestly, "It wasn't supposed to be."

    "Shut it, you lot." hissed sergeant Stannard warningly from the end of the line, and all four triarii immediately snapped their eyes back to Lt Blake.

    "However," Blake was saying, "The most important thing to note about these xenos is that they die when you shoot them with a lasgun. Despite heavy casualties, the Schattenwelt PDF has succeeded in holding the line, and we're going to finish them off. Our regiment will be dep-"

    He abruptly cut off and staggered forward against the podium. The deck didn't move, but every man and woman in the room felt it. A sudden flash of pain like a white-hot dagger being driven into the base of their skull, and an awful wrenching sensation in the pit of their stomach. A klaxon set somewhere in the arched ceiling began wailing up and down the scale, and an obscenely calm servitor's voice blared from the vox casters in the room's corners.

    "Warning." it said, "Gellar field malfunction. Warning. Gellar field malfunction."

    A moment later every lumoglobe in the room failed, the holographic display behind Blake vanishing with them. The local secondary power kicked in a moment later, but then that inexplicably failed as well, plunging the briefing room into darkness apart from the dim, battery-powered emergency lights that lit the escape routes at ground level. A ripple of shouted questions and alarmed cries swept through the assembled guardsmen.

    "Fok's sake!" Lt Blake growled in an uncharacteristic moment of stress, as the sergeants roared at their squads to stay where they were. "Colour sergeant?"

    Pilgrim unpacked his squad vox from his webbing and passed it to the lieutenant.

    "Command," Blake said into the device, "Blake. What's going on?"

    The vox howled with static for several seconds before he got a response, and then there was something like a high-pitched scream before the familiar voice of his company captain sounded over the channel.

    "Not sure, lieutenant." replied captain Ramek, her voice still heavy with static, "Something about the Navigator? Stand by."

    That could have meant anything. Like most people who had cause to travel beyond their homeworld, Blake was vaguely aware that the Navigator had something to do with a ship's travel through the Warp, and was for some reason vitally important to it. But as it was forbidden for ordinary passengers to see a Navigator, the lieutenant didn't know if it was an officer, a senior tech-priest, or even some kind of advanced cogitator.

    "Triarii," he called out to the assembled guardsmen, "Lamp packs!" They might as well be able to see properly while they waited to find out what had gone so horribly wrong.

    Blake handed the vox caster back to Pilgrim and pulled a handheld torch from the shoulder of his own webbing, clicking it on as he looked around the briefing room. Narrow beams of light scissored and swept the gallery as other soldiers began to follow suit.

    Some of the beams, sweeping upward, illuminated something hovering near the ceiling.

    "Pilgrim." Blake snapped, pointing upwards. "Did you see that?"

    "What, sir?" the colour sergeant replied. Both men swept their lamp packs over the ceiling until they saw it again.

    "There!"

    It was a smooth black orb, perhaps 30 centimetres in diameter, floating seemingly without support 5 metres above their heads. An iridescent sheen played over its surface as Blake's torchlight caught it, casting a shadow against the ceiling behind.

    The shadow rippled, and formed a black, clawed tentacle which came sweeping down towards the podium with lightning speed. Colour sergeant Pilgrim was able to duck in time; Blake wasn't, and the shadow tentacle swept across the lieutenant's neck to send his severed head cartwheeling across the room.

    "Fok!" Pilgrim swore as he was showered with the officer's blood. A moment later, and everyone in the room was shouting.

    ++++++

    There was a violent crash, and everyone in the cellblock staggered as the arti-grav plates temporarily went haywire. Then the lights blew out in quick succession, leaving Tychus Fenix, his jailers and his fellow prisoners flailing in complete darkness. For some reason, the emergency lights failed to engage.

    Shouting and swearing filled the air, followed by something much more sinister – a scream. Something wet splashed across Fenix's face, followed by the sound of someone falling heavily against the bars of his cell. It was one of the guards, his cypher card dangling limply on its chain from the front of his flak vest.
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  9. #9
    Chapter Master No-One's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    Fenix had just finished uncrossing his arms from the Aquilla position and looked up. He always felt at peace when he finished prayer and observance to the Emperor. It was one of the few things he was allowed to do still, after being locked away.

    Then all hell broke loose, the arti-grav twigged out for a moment and Fenix found his massive bulk slamming into the wall. "What the fokk!" He growled as the lights cut out. There was shouting all around him, cursing and swears echoed throughout the halls of the brig-confinement-area. Fenix took a deep breath, mind racing with tactical thought on how best to use the confined space to his advantage if someone came for him. He could snap his cot off the wall and use it as a weapon in the worst possible scenario. Suddenly the clamor of the other inmates was broken through by a scream. Alexander, the rapist. He recognized the man's dying scream. Alex never screamed, he was almost as cold and calm as Fenix. A chill ran up his spine as he thought about his situation.

    He tried his damnedest to look around but the darkness was simply too encompassing. He need to get out of this cell before things got worse. He had a bad bad feeling about this. This wasn't the type of stuff that Fenix handled well. Just when Fenix was about to rip the cot off the wall and try to use it to smash through the bars of his cell, he was smacked across the face with a splashing of something wet, metallic and warm. He knew what it was. He really wished he didn't know, but he knew. Fenix ripped his shirt off quickly, wiping the blood from his face and looked at the guard dangling limply against the bars. The man's cypher card was free for the taking.

    Fenix did the smart thing, tossing aside his now bloody shirt, and removed the guards flak-vest, adjusting the straps so it would fit over his hulking form. Grabbing the dead guard, he began stripping the man, putting on his pants, and boots, which thankfully fit, holstering the his stub pistol and taking up his combat shotcannon. Boarding shotgun wasn't a lasgun, but Fenix was a gun-grunt, he could handle the shotgun easily. He looked odd with no shirt, only the vest covering his torso, but he didn't care. He checked over the guard's person one last time, looking for anything else and his eyes lit up as he felt something priceless. Taking the lho-cigar from the corpse's pocket, Fenix immediately lit it. "Hell... it's about damn time."

    Smoke drifting languidly around his bald scalp, a cruel grin cutting his features, Fenix racked the slide of the shotgun and stepped out of the cell, heading towards the briefing assembly. Hopefully his old friend Pilgrim would vouch for him.
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  10. #10
    Librarian Lord General Armstrong's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    "Oh yeah! Another target drops like a dirty Grox Frakker!" Ferentinus screamed as his Lasfire dropped another practice target at the range, he lowered his rifle slowly, making sure to keep it firm against his shoulder. Relieving his other hand from the rifles undergrip and placing it above his Rebreathers visor squinting his eyes to get a better view of his 'kill'. One round planted neatly into each limb, torso and a final round piercing the targets temple. "And that's how it's done." He reassured himself in his usual boyish mannerisms. Klemens releveled his lasgun, this time a series of targets popping up to greet him, closing one eye and moving his rifles sights to match the other, as he switched his firing mechanism to fully auto, hamming his trigger. An equally spectacular and deadly red lighting illuminated off his armours frontal carapace plates. Klemens lowered his rifle again, "Haha, Corporal Ferentinus king of the PT's, hey Maám did you see that?" He said playfully to Sgt Evelyn Miller as he laughed, tilting his head and looking over the squad.

    He ejected the spent magazine as he let it clutter into his free hand tossing it into the nearby recycle bin, quickly replacing it with a fresh battery pack from his webbing. Slinging the lasgun over his shoulder, Ferentinus always considered himself a joker, a wise cracker and most importantly the squads Vox Operator. He unholstered his laspistol turning it over in his hand, as he looked over the capacitor levels as he aimed it down range and let out a shot with an audible click. "Who want's to make this interesting, box of lho-sticks for the first person to knock down 10 targets?"

    "Bloody simple, Ferentinus." One of his squadmates replied accepting his challenge, raising his own sidearm and holding it's grip with both hands. "Hit it!" The Guardsmen commanded as he quickly fired and swapped between targets.

    "Good, but I've seen better from a White Shield." The Corporal replied in stark, as he leveled his own sidearm. Quickly tapping, double tapping and triple tapping at his trigger, swapping between targets as time seemed to slow down for him. As the last target went down he spun his laspistol in his hand before reholstering it. "I'll have those smokes buddy, but the jokes still on you I don't smoke anyway. Here's to clean living for both parties."

    * * * * *

    "Gellar field malfunction, Sergeant Miller, Maám orders?" He asked, concern slick over his voice, however distorted by his helmets voice unit. He leveled his rifle and scanned the room. "Great now I can't see, Maám I ever tell you I am not one for the dark?" He joked, his expression quickly fading as he realized that this wasn't the time. Ferentinus activated his rifle and helmet mounted torch, 'better' he thought to himself as he continued his scanning. "Err ... Evelyn, what is that? I didn't think we had hydroponics in this area and whatever it is, ... it's very much alive." He began joking as he squeezed his trigger letting a lasround discharge, "Should we call for someone, anyone Maám?" He questioned before turning back to the area, 'where did you go, hmm?'
    Last edited by Lord General Armstrong; 15-06-2012 at 01:30.
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  11. #11
    Veteran Sergeant
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    “About bloody time.” muttered Gerald while the Lieutenant concluded the prayer and began the preamble to the briefing.

    Gerald watched idly as Lieutenant Blake tapped a rune on the podium and the holo-display behind him flickered to life, projecting a rotating image of a grotesque alien life form. It resembled nothing so much as a giant centipede reared up on its hinder legs, with four long appendages near the front which gripped the tubes of some complicated xenos weapon system. Its domed head was concealed behind a closed, spherical helmet with no visible visor, and dark bands of armour ribbed its segmented body.

    “Damned ugly fraggers, eh?” Gerald rumbled, as he thumped an elbow into Vicario’s shoulder guard, after a few moments of regarding the xenos abomination. There was a humored tone in his voice as he spoke about the xenos creature and its appearance.

    "The locals call these aliens Crawlers," Blake explained. "Until the Administratum can come up with a better name, anyway. This is one of their footsoldiers."

    “Crawlers they be then,” He said after a derisive snort when Blake mentioned the Administratum, evidently not expecting much from the bureaucrats. Gerald shut his mouth for a bit before cracking his other elbow off DuGrae’s shoulder plate. “Bast, fer your own sake, I hope them Crawlers ain’t the tunnel type.”

    The point man grunted in affirmation, or perhaps annoyance, as he swayed under the impact. DuGrae was ever the dutiful soldier, which meant he was paying attention to the briefing, while Gerald divided his attention between Lieutenant Blake and the muffled banter from First Section. He couldn’t help but grin though his beard. Gerald hadn’t ended up in a squad with perpetual jokers like Corbec and Martos, or been given NCO stripes, for good reasons. No doubt it took the combined efforts of Stannard and Lehner to keep them on track.

    "However," Blake was saying, "The most important thing to note about these xenos is that they die when you shoot them with a lasgun. Despite heavy casualties, the Schattenwelt PDF has succeeded in holding the line, and we're going to finish them off. Our regiment will be dep-"

    Gerald ceased to hear anything as he suddenly found himself bent over and staring down at the deck. He felt his stomach violently summersaulting while he clutched at the back of his neck. He’d taken cudgels to the back of the head that felt more pleasant than what that sensation was. With an abrupt roar, which he belatedly realized as his own howling voice amongst others, Gerald regained his hearing. Guardsmen were having similar while klaxons started to mournfully wail from above while recomposing themselves.

    "Warning. Gellar field malfunction. Warning. Gellar field malfunction."

    “That don’ sound good.” Gerald obviously stated as the sterile voice began to emanate and continuously repeat from the speakers while the lights finally died. He spat on the floor and ruefully vocalized his earlier thought. “Fantastic! Whatever next?”

    The soldiers in the briefing room were cursing, murmuring, and asking questions in the darkness. From the front of the hall the Lieutenant hollered out for lamp packs to be brought out. Gerald let ‘Beloved’ go slack on its strap around his torso while he fished out his on flashlight and began to wave it around. Gerald heard an emphatic curse from Pilgrim and then something fly through the air. It crossed through a few beams of light as it sailed by. With a grotesque detachment Gerald noted that human heads don’t naturally fly by themselves, and that that particular head looked suspiciously familiar.

    “I weren’t expectin’ that…” he said softly while he lowered his lamp and pulled the revolver from its shoulder holster. The noise in the room had risen considerably as Guards bellowed questions and curses. Then a las weapon discharged and Gerald reflexively crouched down while raising his weapon. Gerald added his own bellowing voice to the noise while using his lamp to look around, “The fraggin’ hell are we shootin’ at!?”

  12. #12
    Chapter Master FarseerMatt's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    "Haha, Corporal Ferentinus king of the PTs, hey ma'am did you see that?"

    Sergeant Miller pushed her tinted visor up on to her forehead and lowered her lascarbine as she peered over at Klemens' target.

    "Not bad." she said with a nod. Spreading the shots was a tactic she had schooled the squad in while fighting the Orks on Delphi. Against a xenos that might keep its vital organs anywhere, disabling as many points as possible was often the safest option. Especially with greenskins, who occasionally wouldn't stop even if you shot half their torso away.

    "Don't know what the xenos on Schattenwelt are like, Klemens," she added as she replaced her visor, "But Emperor help them when you lot get there."

    The rest of the grenadier triarii kept shooting as Klemens and his squadmate had their little contest.

    "I'll have those smokes buddy - but the joke's still on you, I don't smoke anyway."

    "Wouldn't have taken the bet else, corp." his squadmate returned the joke. It was generally recognised that Klemens was one of the platoon's top marksmen, though it didn't stop them from trying to knock him off that perch.

    "Here's to clean living for both parties!"

    ++++++

    Smoke drifing languidly around his bald scalp, a cruel grim cutting his features, Fenix racked the slide of his shotgun and stepped out of the cell, heading towards the briefing assembly. Hopefully his old friend Pilgrim would vouch for him.

    He had only gone a few steps before a shotgun thundered in the dark. Buckshot singed past Fenix's face, and he realised with alarm that whoever it was had been aiming at the red glow of his cigar in the darkness. Startled shouts and curses rang out from the cells around him, and before Fenix could bring up his own shotgun to retaliate he was blinded by the narrow beam of a lamp pack.

    "Feth me, Reynor!" said a woman's voice, breathless with shock, "I nearly killed you! Where's it gone? Did you see where it went?"

    The torch beam bounced towards him as the woman came running over. Fenix couldn't see her clearly in the dark, but he caught glimpses of a wiry frame and close-cropped hair under a naval rating's cap before she abruptly stopped a few paces short of him.

    "You're...you're not Reynor." she stammered, and Fenix heard a click as the naval shotcannon swung up towards him once more, "Get back! Get the feth back into your cell!"

    She was a member of the ship's security detail, not a triarius, and she was frightened.

    ++++++

    Klemens squeezed his trigger and let a lasround discharge. The loud crack of the weapon's firing was a catalyst for several other confused soldiers, who sent their own las shots strobing into the air. The beams lanced into the arched ceiling, sending chips of red hot metal raining down. Sergeants shouted at the men to hold their Emperor-damn fire, but all semblance of order was lost a second later as the shimmering orb reappeared, skipping between the guardsmen's questing torch beams. It was drawing the shadows around the vaulted ceiling into itself like a magnet drawing up iron filings, merging them into glossy black tendrils that slithered down into the ranks of triarii. One of them coiled around a man from 3rd squad and snatched him up into the air, before hurling him against the eagle-carved walls.

    "Get down!" sergeant Stannard yelled as one of the shadow tentacles swept over his squad, narrowly missing their heads.

    "The fraggin' hell are we shootin' at!?" snapped O'Rourke.

    "Up there!" roared sergeant Cameron, pointing, "Move, damn it!"

    "Should we call for someone, anyone ma'am?" Klemens questioned before turning back to the area.

    "Warn the crew!" Miller yelled back, the beam of her gun's underslung lamp pack swinging crazily as she dodged the strike of another barbed tentacle. In a flash she dropped one hand from her gun and drew her combat knife to swipe at the glossy black limb as it lunged past her face. She succeeded in cutting through the last metre of it and the severed end, instead of dropping to the floor, simply vanished like a shadow under torchlight. She snapped her gun up to take aim at the hovering orb at the centre of the tentacle mass, but as soon as the beam of her muzzle lamp touched it it jinked away to one side, retreating into the darkness near the ceiling.
    Last edited by FarseerMatt; 29-05-2012 at 16:24. Reason: Blasphemy!

  13. #13
    Chapter Master No-One's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    Fenix growled as the buckshot scattered past him, and as the woman came closer he recognized her for what she was. He could play this one of two ways. Go back to his cell, and die a horrible death, or tell her how things go, and how much she needs him. He didn't really feel like dying, that wasn't his kind of game to play.

    "Look," He says, taking her name from her ident-tag. "Ensign Kerrigan, you're right, I'm not Reynor. I'm a really pissed off Triarii SpecForce who got locked up. I'm not going back to my cell. I'm going to keep my weapons. I'm going to keep my smoke. Most importantly, I'm damn sure not going back to my fokking cell." He says, locking eyes with her, absolutely no fear showing.

    "You're down on men, you're scared ********, just look at you. I'm not, get me to the Triarii briefing, I'll make sure you don't end up a splatter on the floor somewhere." He says, pointedly racking the shotgun and laughing. "I live for this ****, now let's move, we're wasting time." He says, motioning for her to lead the way.
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    When I use a Bloodthirster, he is called Lher'oi M'jhenkins.

  14. #14
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    Fenix growled as the buckshot scattered past him, and as the woman came closer he recognized her for what she was. He could play this one of two ways. Go back to his cell, and die a horrible death, or tell her how things go, and how much she needs him. He didn't really feel like dying, that wasn't his kind of game to play.

    "Look," He says, taking her name from her ident-tag. "Ensign Kerrigan, you're right, I'm not Reynor. I'm a really pissed off Triarii SpecForce who got locked up. I'm not going back to my cell. I'm going to keep my weapons. I'm going to keep my smoke. Most importantly, I'm damn sure not going back to my fokking cell." He says, locking eyes with her, absolutely no fear showing.

    "You're down on men, you're scared gakless, just look at you. I'm not, get me to the Triarii briefing, I'll make sure you don't end up a splatter on the floor somewhere." He says, pointedly racking the shotgun and laughing. "I live for this gak, now let's move, we're wasting time." He says, motioning for her to lead the way.
    Quote Originally Posted by Lord Zarkov View Post
    No-one did it! No-one stabbed my eye out! And there's No-one here to blame!
    Quote Originally Posted by warplock View Post
    When I use a Bloodthirster, he is called Lher'oi M'jhenkins.

  15. #15
    Librarian Lord General Armstrong's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    "Warn the crew!"

    "Umm..." He pondered the request for a brief second. "Yes certainly Ma'am." Ferentinus quickly replied back in response his tone level and calm, he tried not to show it even though any expressions he could muster would have been hidden behind his Rebreather dome but whatever this thing was, it had the good Corporal on edge. Klemens dropped to one knee as his Lasgun discharged and clicked signalling a drained battery pack. He leaned to the side letting the rifle clutter to the floor as he placed a hand onto his Vox unit and activated the strobe, while he pressed his other hand against his helmet and switched on his Mirco Bead. "This is Corporal Klemens reporting across all channels including emergency, we have had a Gellar Field malfunction, I repeat we have a Gellar field malfunction. Everyone brace and arm up, I cannot begin to describe what blasted warp spawned beasts are beginning to plague our vessel. Ave Imperator."

    Klemens deactivated his Micro Bead and switched off his Vox transmitter as he listened in on the ship wide reports. Pulling the Lasguns ejector he let the expended pack violently strike the deck as he liberated another magazine from his webbing and let it slide home.

    The beam of her gun's underslung lamp pack swinging crazily as she dodged the strike of another barbed tentacle. In a flash she dropped one hand from her gun and drew her combat knife to swipe at the glossy black limb as it lunged past her face.

    Ferentinus unholstered his Laspistol and fired, squeezing the trigger like a madman, furiously discharging his sidearms battery pack in an attempt to throw away the beast from attacking his commanding officer.

    She succeeded in cutting through the last metre of it and the severed end, instead of dropping to the floor, simply vanished like a shadow under torchlight.

    "What in the warp is it Ma'am, did you get it?" Ferentinus questioned "We should get out of here Evelyn, there has to be back up nullification zones or power somewhere on this ship or the ships Cathedral would these things attack holy ground?." The Corporal stated concern smeared across his voice, as he stood and releveled his lasrifle attempting to track his target, letting a few more bolts lose from the barrel.
    Last edited by Lord General Armstrong; 14-06-2012 at 23:02.
    Survivor of The Ways of the Cult - Inquisitor

  16. #16
    Chapter Master Dakkagor's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    Not orks. A pity.

    Lehner fixed the image of the alien in his centre of his mind. It wasn't so intimidating, a weaker life form that they would scourge from the sector. He wondered if they had armoured vehicles he would get to roast, using his meltagun to make them dance and scream like insects caught in a lighters fire. . .

    The lights flickering and failing brought him back to reality.

    "what in the warp is going on?" shouted Kreutzmann, causing Lehner to clout him round the back of his head.

    "Do NOT use that word now, you idiot. The gellar field just malfunctioned, while we are in warp. Our souls have been imperilled by the great enemy"

    The rest of the squad looked at him as he slowly flicked the safety from his meltagun. Under his breath he slowly recited the voidsmans prayer and waited. . . for. . .

    "CONTACT!!" Shouted Fitz, swinging the beam from her lamp pack up into the rafters like half a dozen others. As a tentacle swept down towards her Lehner knocked her down to the floor. He felt the tentacle brush past him, no more than an inch from tearing his head clean off. It was like something dragged up from the stygian trenches of the coast of Stranix. He rolled off Fitz and let his meltagun hangf on its strap, pulling up his shotgun. He thumped a blast into the closest apendage and watched it recoil.

    "Lehner!" Stannard shouted across the din. "Rally to me!"

    He scrambled to his feet with the aid of Fitz, and they both double timed it to the Sergeant. He had flipped over a set of pews and the squad was using it as an impromptu firing position, snapping of lasgun shots into the rafters, keeping the creature at bay but not seriously hurting it.

    "Damn thing is avoiding our shots!" Growled the sergeant. He had a heavy bolt pistol and a chainsword, and the former was thundering the occasional round into the ceiling, sending showers of stone from the mosaics.

    Lehner watched the melee, ready for orders. He watched the lamp pack beams swing left and right. . .and the way the creature avoided them.

    "Sir, I don't think its dodging the shots. Its avoiding our torch beams. Deep sea creatures of the coast of Stranix did the same."

    "you saying we are fighting some kind of warp borne squid monster, Corporal Lehner?" The sergeant fixed Lehner with his steely gaze, daring him to retract his comment.

    "Could be sir. It recoils from the light, and is it not said that we bring the emperors light into dark places?"
    Stannard laughed, and slapped Lehner on the back. "Squad, fireteams! Fitz, cover lehner. We're going to use our lamp packs to herd the beastie into a killing field, then Lehner is going to melta that bastard thing straight back to hell!"
    In Service to Xana!
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  17. #17
    Chapter Master FarseerMatt's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    "This is Corporal Klemens reporting across all channels including emergency, we have had a Gellar Field malfunction, I repeat we have a Gellar field malfunction. Everyone brace and arm up, I cannot begin to describe what blasted warp spawned beasts are beginning to plague our vessel. Ave Imperator."

    Klemens deactivated his Micro Bead and switched off his Vox transmitter as he listened in on the ship wide reports.
    The usually reliable vox network was swamped with static interference, and the ongoing servitor alarm did not help, but Klemens could make out a few individual voices beneath the blanket of white noise. Some were demanding status reports, or frantically asking for instructions from someone higher up the command chain. One or two were delivering similar warnings to the one he himself had just broadcast. Someone called “Navigator? Navigator!” over and over before falling silent. Klemens even thought he heard the snap and crack of lasfire, but abruptly a new sound drowned out the voices: a rasping, gurgling sound, like a man sucking in a tortured breath after being held underwater to the point of drowning. It rose and rose in volume to become an inhuman howl, until Klemens was forced to shut off the vox to preserve his eardrums.

    "What in the warp is it Ma'am, did you get it?" Ferentinus questioned.

    “No.” sergeant Miller called back, teeth gritted behind her visor as her lascarbine savaged the gallery ceiling into detonation craters and splintering chips, questing fruitlessly after the darting orb.

    "We should get out of here Evelyn, there has to be back up nullification zones or power somewhere on this ship...or the ships cathedral, would these things attack holy ground?"

    Miller paused to reload. “I have no idea. Squad! Turn those pews over and make us some Emperor-damn cover before it comes back!”

    ++++++

    "You're down on men, you're scared gakless, just look at you. I'm not, get me to the Triarii briefing, I'll make sure you don't end up a splatter on the floor somewhere." He said, pointedly racking the shotgun and laughing. "I live for this gak, now let's move, we're wasting time." He added, motioning for her to lead the way.

    The armswoman named Kerrigan swallowed audibly, and gave a shaky nod. “Okay.”

    There was an immediate chorus of protests from the remaining occupied cells, the other prisoners demanding to be let out.

    “Hey! Hey! What about us? Don't leave us in here!”

    The two did their best to ignore them as they slipped through the frowning doorway of the penitential area. Kerrigan looked doubtful, until Fenix took her cypher card and engaged the mag-locks, gruffly assuring the armswoman that the prisoners would be safe enough. Luckily for them, the emergency ground-level lights in the corridor outside had engaged, and although Kerrigan still needed her lamp pack, it was enough to find their way. Two maintenance servitors had fallen against the corridor walls and were blurting error messages from their vox-grilles, but otherwise the corridor was strangely empty. Over the chattering of the servitors, the vox casters embedded in the walls still looped their dead-voiced warning to the deserted corridor.

    “It was so fast, I didn't see where it went.” Kerrigan said breathlessly as they reached the intersection. In front of them was an elevator shaft and an adjacent emergency crawl-way. “Where the feth is everybody?”

    She went quiet as a new sound became audible above the shipwide vox, a scraping of metal against metal. It became louder as it came closer, until with a squealing crescendo one of the interdeck lifts hurtled past beyond the closed doors. Both Kerrigan and Fenix could clearly hear screaming from someone trapped inside before the lift plummeted away to land with a heavy crash several floors below them. After that there was a damning silence, over which the vox casters continued their perversely calm broadcast.

    Lit from below by the dim floor lights, Fenix could see that Kerrigan was sweating, her dark skin turning almost grey.

    “Perhaps,” she said at last, having to clear her throat and start again as her voice cracked, “Perhaps we should take the ladder.”

    The two began the hand over hand climb to the briefing gallery on the deck above. About half way up, they began to hear the frantic lasfire of Fenix's fellow Triarii.

    ++++++

    Stannard laughed, and slapped Lehner on the back. "Squad, fireteams! Fitz, cover lehner. We're going to use our lamp packs to herd the beastie into a killing field, then Lehner is going to melta that bastard thing straight back to hell!"

    “Sir!” the Triarii responded instantly. As the orb reappeared, black tentacles lashing the air around it, Martos and Corbec swung up their torch beams, causing the thing to shy away to the left. It seemed that Lehner's theory about the thing's aversion to light was correct, but the weakness created new dangers of its own as the thing drew in the shadow that the two intersecting light beams had cast behind it and formed it into a claw which swiped down at its antagonists. The two Triarii yelped and dived in opposite directions as the claw smashed the pew they were hiding behind into matchwood.

    “Hold it!” Stannard shouted, lunging at the claw with his chainsword as he shone his own lamp pack up with his other hand to stop the orb from slipping away. Kreutzmann and Turner bracketed it from the other side, driving the thing down and under a fan of lasbeams from what Lehner assumed was sergeant Mainwering's autolas. Shadow tentacles lashed out, striking Turner with enough force to crack his flak vest's ablative breastplate and send him sprawling against the far wall. Behind the screams and shouts, the message repeating from the vox casters changed. Lehner and his squadmates couldn't make out what it had said, but someone evidently had as they shouted at him to move.

    “Stand your fokking ground!” sergeant Stannard snarled before the speaker could elaborate, “Or I'll shoot you myself!” He revved his chainsword and swiped again at the shadowy claw that was attempting to close around his torso. The shadow-creature's tentacles were lashing violently, but the orb at the centre was cornered between first squad's torch beams, flitting back and forth angrily as it sought a way out.

    “Clear the way!” Fitz shouted desperately, sweeping her arm at the guardsmen from third squad who were behind the trapped orb and directly in Lehner's line of fire. “Corp!” she said to Lehner as the Triarii realised their peril and began to claw frantically out of the way. “Torch it!”

    Lehner's melta gun struck a bright lance of fire that momentarily banished the darkness in the briefing gallery, throwing knife-sharp shadows against the walls and ceiling. It engulfed the orb at the centre of the heaving mass of shadow tentacles, causing its coruscating shell to flare bright white. There was no audible scream, but every man found themselves flinching and clutching their ears. As the guardsmen's torch beams wavered the orb found an opening and slithered away, its many tentacles no longer writhing with deadly purpose but merely dragging behind it. It knocked several guardsmen down as it barrelled through them, skimming low across the deck towards one of the ground-level circulation vents. The orb, now pulsing with a weak, sickly light, seemed to melt through the bars of the grate covering the air duct. The looping mass of claws and tentacles drained away after it, and it was gone.

    Almost immediately, the deck of the gallery lurched an alarming 20 degrees, sending the unprepared Triarii sliding forward towards the podium where Blake and Pilgrim had stood. As they skidded, arms pinwheeling for something to hang on to, the servitor voice on the broadcaster vox repeated its new message. This time, they heard it clearly.

    “Warning. Emergency lockdown protocols engaged.”

    Snapping their heads towards the arched entrance even as they scrabbled for purchase on the tilting floor, the guardsmen saw the metre-thick bulkhead behind the Aquila doors beginning to descend.

    Colour sergeant Pilgrim, who had kept his feet by wrapping a hand around the speaker's podium, seized sergeant Mainwering's wrist as she reeled back a step and arrested her fall.

    “Everybody out!” the senior NCO yelled, struggling to make himself heard over the shouts and cries of his company.
    Last edited by FarseerMatt; 29-05-2012 at 23:53.
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  18. #18
    Librarian Lord General Armstrong's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    “I have no idea. Squad! Turn those pews over and make us some Emperor-damn cover before it comes back!”

    "Certainly Ma'am." Klemens reluctantly agreed, leveling his foot into one of the pews in front of them. "Come on, you bastard." The Corporal spat at the inanimate object for some reason hoping that it would submit to his threats, as he leveled his boot into it again.

    "Frak this! Give me a hand will you!" He barked to one of his squad-mates as he slung his rifle over his shoulder and placed both hands onto the extended bench.

    "Ave Imperator, our great protector give us strength to overcome this obstacle so we may continue performing our charge!" Putting his back into the necessary task, just as his follow Triarii did the same. Within moments, they tipped the pew upon it's side, Ferentinus and his hand quickly moving to the next bench tipping that over too in quick succession, before retrieving his lasrifle. Tracing shots along the ceiling, "Oh, frak this. Are even hurting this thing?"

    Almost immediately, the deck of the gallery lurched an alarming 20 degrees, sending the unprepared Triarii sliding forward towards the podium where Blake and Pilgrim had stood. As they skidded, arms pinwheeling for something to hang on to.

    "Oh no! Oh frak no, for frakking sake is this really happen .......................!" Ferentinus's last word cut short as he began to tilt awkwardly, before quickly losing his footing. His hands grasping out for something, anything to hold onto. Which unluckily for him and his fellow Triarii, happened to be the mans leg, Klemens only serving to rip his squad member off his feet. As he slid down the compartments floor slamming into the podium, his hands pressing at the deck as he pushed himself to his feet. Quickly assisting any of his squad that suffered the same fate, "Miller! We need to get out of here now, Maám!" He screamed, his voice slightly distorted as he watched the chaos unfold as he pushed his squad-mates forward. "Go, move it now!" He continued, as he quickly began spiriting towards the exit.
    Last edited by Lord General Armstrong; 14-06-2012 at 23:12.
    Survivor of The Ways of the Cult - Inquisitor

  19. #19
    Chapter Master FarseerMatt's Avatar
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    "Sergeant Miller! We need to get out of here now, ma'am!" he screamed, his voice slightly distorted as he watched the chaos unfold. He couldn't see his squad sergeant in the mass of tumbling bodies. Klemens pushed his squad-mates forward.

    "Go, move it now!" he continued, as he quickly began sprinting towards the exit.


    Running up the tilted deck felt like trying to run up an escalator that was moving in the opposite direction. The grenadiers' heavier armour hindered their movement slightly compared to the rest of the company, but Klemens sprinted ahead alongside some men from First and Second squads.

    The descending blast doors were already more than half closed as they approached them. Ahead of Klemens the scarred private Corbec crossed the threshold and immediately stumbled as his sense of balance went. The malfunction in the gravity plates seemed to be confined within the briefing hall. As Corbec recovered and reached behind him to give a hand to Martos, Klemens registered two people running along the corridor towards them. One was a dark-skinned ship's armsman, or rather armswoman, while the other was a face Klemens had never expected to see. Ex-sergeant Tychus Fenix. He had been confined to the brig for murder 2 weeks into the trip. Colour sergeant Pilgrim had been the man's only serious defender at the subsequent court marshal, and the only reason he was still alive was because the marshals hadn't been able to extract a confession from him as to why he did it. What was he doing here, with a shotgun in his hands and a flak vest slung over his bare torso?

    ++++++

    Fenix and Kerrigan stopped as they tried to process the image in front of them. The lack of lights in the briefing hall made it even harder to tell what was going on, but below the rapidly closing bulkhead door they could see Triarii in dark fatigues stumbling towards the exit, hunched over as if they were trying to climb a steep hill. A couple of guardsmen had reached the threshold and were shouting at them to help as a helmeted grenadier sprinted towards them and another guardsmen pulled his way clear. Like the man before him he immediately seemed to lose his balance, causing the Triarius behind to curse and shove him forward with an unceremonious push on the backside.

    "What in the Warp?" Kerrigan said, giving voice to the general confusion. Above them the blast doors continued to descend with creeping inevitability, and it served to snap the armsman out of her bewildered state. "We'd better help!"
    Last edited by FarseerMatt; 11-06-2012 at 10:55.

  20. #20
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    Re: Eclipsis - IC

    Ky froze for crucial seconds after the announcement. The ominous tone of the Gellar Field failure sirens had become a herald of absolute terror for her after a minor alert of the type when she was still a child; she never wanted to see a man inside-out and backwards ever again.

    The lieutenant's death snapped her out of shock. She hadn't had the chance or the inclination to get to know Blake, as he had been fairly hands-off during her training sessions and she had never expected to be part of his unit. Still, he had seemed like he was the type to accept that when she was moving she outranked him, which made him a good deal more intelligent than most senior officers she'd encountered in her service.

    Taegan thrummed with surging power as she brought the massive weapon up to aim at the indistinct ball of darkness that served as her target. Automatic shots stabbed towards the thing, the harsh lights of the hellgun rounds snapping shadows and silhouettes in every direction. Her covering fire allowed the almost frustratingly dull Lehner to get a melta beam off, forcing the daemon away.

    Gravity snapped sideways, crashing her off her feet. Her low centre of balance plunked her directly on her rear and subsequently spun her feet-"down", starting her inching precariously towards the "lower" part of the room.

    Pilgrim's grab was a lifeline; one yard on his arm allowed her to get her booted feet on the deck. The slanting floor returned memories of sneaking into her siblings' a-gee jungle gym on Drystan Queen and fiddling with the gravity controls. She forged "upwards" towards the closing blast doors and stumbled one quick-step forward as she crossed the gravity threshold. "Thanks Sarge," she said feelingly through the corner of her mouth as she scanned the area. More gravleg-less fraks, armoured ones, flashy lights.... the hell is he doing here?

    Taegan whipped up once more to bracket the flak-armoured torso of the man she'd seen sentenced just weeks ago. The weapon whined like a mech-hound anxious to be let off the leash. Ky wasn't in the mood to take chances; the hellgun mode currently on tap would blow straight through the man's flak vest, his torso and dent the bulkhead behind him. "Y'got any spec'fic reason why I'd not like to vape yer damn chest at th' time, lag? 'M givin' you a count a five right now, so be makin' convincin-like."
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    You, good sir, win.
    Quote Originally Posted by SandQueen, on my immense lack of sleep View Post
    I will construct a vast stick that goes beyond the curve of the horizon and prod you whilst you nap.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dakkagor View Post
    yes, please. Something about your whole conversation is scaring the *&%$ out of me.

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