Drunkencorgimaster
06-28-2013, 09:21 PM
The Divine Blade plowed steadily through the immaterium. Captain Haleen Tasthen of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica was not a man at ease. He drummed his ring-encrusted fingers tensely on the baroque, lacquered com-panel.
“Have we heard anything new from Deyalis?” he snapped at Sub-Commander Jucan Awensey.
“Yes, my lord” responded the third executive officer has he held an inter-com to one ear. “Major Deyalis’ security teams have just reached Level J-17.”
“Damn his slowness!” thundered Tasthen. “This is serious!”
“Yes, my lord, but his sweep won’t be much good if they overlook any infiltrators.” cautioned Awensey.
Tasthen drew his hands across his face in exasperation. The last five hours had been a nightmare.
The Divine Blade was one of the notorious and secret “Black Ships” tasked with carrying dangerous psychers to earth to be sacrificed before the Golden Throne. Such psychic beings were far too dangerous to be allowed to live normal lives so they were rounded up and tortured before being packed by the thousands into miserable holding cells on board ships like Tasthen’s. These psychers could easily pull a man’s mind apart from the inside so their holding cells were surrounded by special psychic shielding and hundreds of security personnel.
At the moment The Divine Blade was travelling through the notorious Perillion Outliers, an area was only tenuously linked to the Imperium thanks to the frequent warp storms in the area. Several of these were so large and persistent that they had lasted for centuries. At the moment Tasthen’s ship was moving cautiously past a massive and legendary storm nicknamed “The Buzzsaw.” The fact that there were countless ghost tales about the Buzzsaw did nothing to ease the captain’s superstitious mind.
A few hours ago the bridge of The Divine Blade had received an unauthorized and untraceable telepathic transmission. The message raised hairs on Captain Tasthen’s neck. “The Brotherhood Siccarin denounce the heretical infidels who blaspheme the Will of the Divine Emperor -Peace be Upon His Holy Throne. His True Servants will see that the false servants of the Emperor and their evil black ship will be dragged into the eternal warp from whence all blasphemes come.”
Representatives of the Inquisition had warned Tasthen about the terrorist outrages committed by the deranged Brother Siccarin Space Marine Chapter who were active in the Perillion Outliers. These lunatics had convinced themselves that almost everyone in the Imperium, even the High Lords of Terra themselves, were traitors to the Emperor. The telepathic message indicated that The Divine Blade would be immediately destroyed by a Siccarin stowaway team. Of course the fanatical idiots had miscalculated the transmission time and Sub-Commander Jucan Awensey estimated their error had given the ship’s security teams anywhere from 4 to 8 hours to disrupt the attack. Furthermore, unless the Siccarin had smuggled a strategic torpedo on board, it was hard to imagine how a small team of them could destroy the entire Divine Blade. Still, they might cause a lot of damage...
Suddenly a telescreen sprung into life. An image appeared showing what seemed to be five space marine scouts in blue-and-white armor standing around a trans-fuel coil. A fierce-looking marine who looked like their leader spoke first. “Hello Captain.”
Tasthen immediately whispered harshly to Awensey “It’s the Siccarin infiltration team! They must have cut into our internal teleview system. Trace their signal.”
The sergeant of the team continued to speak. “So you just got our telepathic transmission! Know that your ship will die by means of this!” He held up one fist clenching a melta bomb.
“Look you terrorist scum!” Captain Tasthen bellowed at the telescreen. “Do you seriously believe a single melta bomb can destroy this mighty ship!?!”
The space marine sergeant smiled as he slapped the melta-bomb to the side of the trans-fuel coil. The telescreen went blank. So did Jucan Awensey’s face.
Captain Tasthen turned to his sub-commander. “What? What is it!?!” the senior officer yelled.
“Sir, the…the…I traced the transmission to level N-7. That trans-fuel coil is next to a massive holding cell!”
“So?”
“Don’t you see?!? The melta bomb will detonate the trans-fuel coil!”
“You idiot! An exploding trans-coil isn’t powerful enough to destroy a secondary engine, let alone this whole ship!” Tasthen yelled. He was angry, but a little voice in the back of his head told him he was missing something.
“Not by itself, no!” shrieked Awensey, his face completely drained of blood. “But it IS powerful enough to blast a hole in the psych-shielding of the holding cell! There will be nothing protecting our minds from thousands of enraged psychers bent on vengeance!”
Captain Haleen Tasthen tried to speak but his jaw was locked. “This isn’t happening” he thought. Just then a faint dull boom was heard from the decks below him. And then…well, that was when the real terror began…
“Have we heard anything new from Deyalis?” he snapped at Sub-Commander Jucan Awensey.
“Yes, my lord” responded the third executive officer has he held an inter-com to one ear. “Major Deyalis’ security teams have just reached Level J-17.”
“Damn his slowness!” thundered Tasthen. “This is serious!”
“Yes, my lord, but his sweep won’t be much good if they overlook any infiltrators.” cautioned Awensey.
Tasthen drew his hands across his face in exasperation. The last five hours had been a nightmare.
The Divine Blade was one of the notorious and secret “Black Ships” tasked with carrying dangerous psychers to earth to be sacrificed before the Golden Throne. Such psychic beings were far too dangerous to be allowed to live normal lives so they were rounded up and tortured before being packed by the thousands into miserable holding cells on board ships like Tasthen’s. These psychers could easily pull a man’s mind apart from the inside so their holding cells were surrounded by special psychic shielding and hundreds of security personnel.
At the moment The Divine Blade was travelling through the notorious Perillion Outliers, an area was only tenuously linked to the Imperium thanks to the frequent warp storms in the area. Several of these were so large and persistent that they had lasted for centuries. At the moment Tasthen’s ship was moving cautiously past a massive and legendary storm nicknamed “The Buzzsaw.” The fact that there were countless ghost tales about the Buzzsaw did nothing to ease the captain’s superstitious mind.
A few hours ago the bridge of The Divine Blade had received an unauthorized and untraceable telepathic transmission. The message raised hairs on Captain Tasthen’s neck. “The Brotherhood Siccarin denounce the heretical infidels who blaspheme the Will of the Divine Emperor -Peace be Upon His Holy Throne. His True Servants will see that the false servants of the Emperor and their evil black ship will be dragged into the eternal warp from whence all blasphemes come.”
Representatives of the Inquisition had warned Tasthen about the terrorist outrages committed by the deranged Brother Siccarin Space Marine Chapter who were active in the Perillion Outliers. These lunatics had convinced themselves that almost everyone in the Imperium, even the High Lords of Terra themselves, were traitors to the Emperor. The telepathic message indicated that The Divine Blade would be immediately destroyed by a Siccarin stowaway team. Of course the fanatical idiots had miscalculated the transmission time and Sub-Commander Jucan Awensey estimated their error had given the ship’s security teams anywhere from 4 to 8 hours to disrupt the attack. Furthermore, unless the Siccarin had smuggled a strategic torpedo on board, it was hard to imagine how a small team of them could destroy the entire Divine Blade. Still, they might cause a lot of damage...
Suddenly a telescreen sprung into life. An image appeared showing what seemed to be five space marine scouts in blue-and-white armor standing around a trans-fuel coil. A fierce-looking marine who looked like their leader spoke first. “Hello Captain.”
Tasthen immediately whispered harshly to Awensey “It’s the Siccarin infiltration team! They must have cut into our internal teleview system. Trace their signal.”
The sergeant of the team continued to speak. “So you just got our telepathic transmission! Know that your ship will die by means of this!” He held up one fist clenching a melta bomb.
“Look you terrorist scum!” Captain Tasthen bellowed at the telescreen. “Do you seriously believe a single melta bomb can destroy this mighty ship!?!”
The space marine sergeant smiled as he slapped the melta-bomb to the side of the trans-fuel coil. The telescreen went blank. So did Jucan Awensey’s face.
Captain Tasthen turned to his sub-commander. “What? What is it!?!” the senior officer yelled.
“Sir, the…the…I traced the transmission to level N-7. That trans-fuel coil is next to a massive holding cell!”
“So?”
“Don’t you see?!? The melta bomb will detonate the trans-fuel coil!”
“You idiot! An exploding trans-coil isn’t powerful enough to destroy a secondary engine, let alone this whole ship!” Tasthen yelled. He was angry, but a little voice in the back of his head told him he was missing something.
“Not by itself, no!” shrieked Awensey, his face completely drained of blood. “But it IS powerful enough to blast a hole in the psych-shielding of the holding cell! There will be nothing protecting our minds from thousands of enraged psychers bent on vengeance!”
Captain Haleen Tasthen tried to speak but his jaw was locked. “This isn’t happening” he thought. Just then a faint dull boom was heard from the decks below him. And then…well, that was when the real terror began…