Enjoy
It is not Mankind's destiny to rule,
It is not Mankind's destiny to lead,
It is not Mankind's destiny to dominate,
It is Mankind's destiny to fulfill it's purpose.
They are the last hope against Chaos, for I have seen that the Tau will fail.
Our time has come
-
Found on 277.536.M43, under the destroyed Golden Throne.
Attr. to the God-Emperor
Chapter 1 (Part 1)
998.M44
His eyes opened, and he was instantly overwhelmed by the sudden light influx. He shut them hurriedly, then opened them again. His pupils adjusted, but still all he could see was pure white light, though it slowly faded. As his brain became functional, he was hit by a sheer wall of pain. Entire muscle groups felt like they were on fire, and his head could have almost exploded by his reckoning. As the sharp pains dulled, he tried to look to his left, turning his head, but stopped and groaned loudly as it seemed a white hot knife stabbed into his oesophagus.
+++Ah, you're awake+++, a mechanical, emotionless voice droned. A cold limb lifted him up onto his feet with unnatural ease. He managed to stand, though swaying. The pain had resided, though he felt unbearably stiff. +++I've been sustaining you+++, the voice said again.
“Wha-what?” he stammered, getting used to speaking again.
+++You have been in a coma for four weeks+++
“Fabricator...” he realised, looking into the Fabricator General's augmetic eyes, “What happened?” He was suddenly aware of what was going on. There were some fifteen other bodies scattered across the deck of the shuttle. Each had tubes and wires attached to various areas of their body. He began to pull out his own.
+++The Navigator was killed, I do not know how or by whom. We drifted into a warp storm, or very powerful current. The ship sustained structural damage and all organic occupants were killed or knocked unconscious+++, the Fabricator General explained in his monotonous voice.
“How...how long?” he asked, stumbling over to a view port, looking as his chronometer: 233.998.M41
He noticed that he was still dressed in all of his normal combat gear. Combat?
+++As I said--+++ the Fabricator said before being cut off.
“Wait, sorry, four weeks you said. Why am I in combat gear?” he asked, pressing buttons.
+++I found you like that, next to Brother-Marine Hector+++ the mechanicus lord said, assisting the man's attempts to open the view port.
“Where is he?” he asked.
+++Dead, a bolt round to the head+++ the Fabricator General answered. The man almost baulked at the lack of emotion or regret in the lord's voice, but quickly remembered he could not express emotion through his voice.
“Damn...”
+++Indeed+++ They continued their struggle against the ship's uncooperative command consoles in silence. It was only broken by the occasional groan and creak of the ship's hull, and the whirring of the Fabricator's aumetics. They continued for a while, then the man turned.
“Can you continue alone?” he asked.
+++Quicker than with an organic like yourself+++
“I'll take that as a yes.” The man hobbled across the bridge, leaning on consoles and pipes. He stopped just in front of the line of survivors. Each looked dead, still like a corpse. The man knew not many would make it out of the coma. He was lucky himself, to have survived so long...and in the warp as well. It almost made his think that there was some motive behind all this. He glanced and the Fabricator General. He was the only one who had not been unconscious when the man had woken. Nor had he claimed to ever have been.
+++What are you thinking about?+++ The man jumped, slightly startled. It was as if the machine lord had sensed his thoughts, or just seen his gaze somehow.
“Tell me, why were you not knocked unconscious?” he asked, slowly walking towards the Fabricator, gradually drawing his bolt pistol.
+++I am not flesh+++
“That is not a good answer, lord” the man pressed. He was checking the clip. It was full
+++I am not flesh, so my mind cannot be affected by blunt force like your organic one+++
“That only begs further questions,” he hissed, taking aim, “Why did the force not destroy you outright?”
+++Because I am made of the sturdiest metal known to the Mechanicus. Simple blunt cannot even damage me+++
“Very well.” He quickly holstered his weapon before the lord turned round. They locked their gazes. The man's was penetrating, fiery, powerful. The emotionless eyes of the Fabricator General were disturbingly emotionless.
“Tell, me,” he said, “Who killed Hector?”
+++I do not know. I suspect the Navigator's killer+++ They continued to look at each other. The man began to read the Fabricator's surface thoughts. Suddenly, as he withdrew from the Machine Lord's mind, he noticed the quickly fading psionic ice crystallising on the view port.
“It is open?” he asked.
+++Yes+++ They looked out. All they could see was the warp.
The ship rocked, and the warp dissolved. Slowly it was replaced by light green. “We have dropped out of the warp?”
+++No. We have fallen out of it...+++ How was that possible? One did not just fall out of the warp without warning. They had been manipulated.
“Oh my...” the man gasped. The Fabricator General agreed, even through a rare sign of body language, taking a step back.
+++In the name of the Omnissiah...+++ It seemed to mean nothing on that mechanical frequency, but the man knew exactly what he meant. This certainly hadn't been encountered before. Just infront of the view port, there was a massive light green hull. A ship. It eclipsed the stars it was so close.
“What is it Cagarner?” the man asked, using the Machine Lord's proper name for the first time.
+++I do not know, Inquisitor. It is something I have never encountered+++ Inquisitor Rosenadel stared blank-eyed at the ship, almost with admiration, mostly with instinctive fear. He stumbled as their own ship shook, and suddenly the hum of the engines was cut out. Rosenadel turned, and hobbled off of the bridge and into a corridor, taking note of the date. He almost fell as he read it: 233.998.M44
The ship they were on only had three decks and one airlock. It was a transport shuttle for the Senatorium and guards, often members of various Chambers Militants groups or Custodes.
Rosenadel reached the airlock, with Cagarner coming shoulder to shoulder with him a few seconds later. There was a pneumatic hiss as the door slid open, controlled from the outside. What stepped in next took Rosenadel's breath away. And he was quite sure that if Cagarner could have, he would have gasped too.
What stood there was 3 metres tall. It had angular, almost human like features, but it's jaw was lines with round, scalpel sharp teeth. Instead of hair it had the beginning of a chitinous armour plating that extended down it's back. It had no clothing, but a rather body, armour like chest. It's four arms were likewise covered in some sort of natural armour, with claw nailed hands at their ends. It's legs extended backwards at the knee, rather than forwards, and it stood on a pair of hoof-like feet. It's eyes were black, but not malicious. Rosenadel could read it's surface thoughts, so it was clearly sentient.
Any other day, with any other recognisable xenos Rosenadel would have drawn his bolt pistol and blown it open. Today, though, was not any other day. He was weak, slow, disturbed and most of all out of sync with his surroundings. The Machine Lord Cagarner was similarly paralysed.
“What...what are you?” asked Rosenadel, suddenly snapping back into action. He was about to kill the creature when he heard it's reply.
“I welcome you in peace, human. We do not get many of your kind here, we were surprised. And your ship, it is such an...old, model,” it said, sounding just like a human, with a human's voice. Not evil or fair, just...normal.
“You have not answered my question, Xenos,” Rosenadel replied, hesitating to attack, looking at the creature now with hateful eyes.
“Ah, yes. You humans always have been stubborn. I am Arkot, Captain of this vessel. Welcome to our Galaxy, M23.” it smiled, and Rosenadel was quite taken aback at the answer. They were in another galaxy? Another Emperor-damned Galaxy?
Though he stammered for a second, Rosenadel managed, “Answer me, what are you?!”
The alien's answer was the killing blow to Rosenadel's mind, and he froze when he heard it.
“In your tongue? We are the Tyranid.”