Memorium Vitae

Big Game Hunter

Personnel : Duke “Butch” Ramsey, 1st officer of the Wrath of Aries
Info Log: 0025
+ Active Audio Record Subroutine +

Heh, let’s go to the nice safe agri-world I said. We’re going to the Death World mission she said. Damn, and here I was looking to catch some much needed R&R. Astropathic intel said the mission briefing was sent by a Nobleman in charge of a new Forge World, looking to hunt some “rare and exotic specmens”.

Just fragging lovely, some snot-nosed fop looking to have us put up a Throne-Damned zoo! It’s errand boy jobs like this that almost… ALMOST make me miss conscripted life… heh almost. Well at least I thought the mission was going to be a simple pick up and drop off mission.

We got the the estate, which of course was the sze of a small city. Damn Forge world and factory dstrict only took up have the rock, the other half just running wild. Of course mister noble man had to live on the uncivilized side of the dirtball. I don’t get it, what do these rich pansies get off of living in the middle of nowhere. Hard sourced electricity, wells and septic processors instead of plumbing, I don’t know. “Roughin’ It” ain’t this Hive worlder’s style.

Well Mr. Noble man introduces himself as Gaston and he’s actually more an outdoorsman than I gave him credit for. He starts showing us his little collection galleries and I was honestly impressed. A lot of his armaments saw service and were probably regularly used and maintained. I was almost starting to respect the guy until he led us to his “crown gem of his collection”.

Apparently, this guy thought it cute to collect Adeptus Astartes weapons! Not a lie, he had a damned Terminator Storm Bolter of all things! I swear the Space Marines would’ve shat Bolter shells if they knew he had a blessed weapon from the Emperor’s own! After that we got leary and fgured this guy wasn’t your tyoical run-of-the-mill rich boy. Hell, captain even sent out an Astropathic signal to the Sisters of Battle. This guy was going to have some shit to answer for… after we got our money from the mission of course.

Already paranoid, Gaston invited us to this fancy-assed dinner party. One thing about being rich, how come with all their money, they eat the shittiest looking grox-fodder I’ve ever seen?! Well needless to say, nobody was touching anything. Luckily I was able to busy myself hammering out a contract that would get us some decent coin in our coffers. “Hammer” of course was a nice term cause I had no fragging idea what I was doing. I fgured I throw in a bit of an insurance insentive in case one of us got offed on this little Death World expedition.

Thank the Throne, Gaston took the contract and gave us the coordinates. I was half thinking the Captan was going to whip out Fang right from her party dress and sick him on the lout. Luckily that didn’t happen. We were back in the warp and on our way before the dinner faire could give us indegestion.

Oh yea on another note, apparantely thanks to Echo’s snooping about, we found out this Gastone guy liked to hunt illegal xenos amongst other things. Black mark number two. On top of that, his house staff was just too damn creepy for words and that’s comming from a guy who serves on the crew of the Wrath of Aries! If THAT wasn’t the wierdest thing to happen, Peotre found a teleporter station hidden on the lower deck of the ship! Now that piece of ancient tech is gonna come in handy! Seems we can fire that puppy up and still his the warp engines for a quick gettaway!

Well we got to the death world and started “securing speciments”. At least that was a part of the job I could understand. With Hellgun set to “lightly barbeque” we took the shuttle down to the planet to do some hunting. Now I’m not going to bother and say we went down into the jungles with machetes and bone neckalces to hunt for shit, I’m not a Catachan gorilla!

Best rule to surviving on a Death World: Don’t step foot on a Death World!

So we decided to do a little target shooting from opened shuttle hatches. Didn’t go too bad, actually bagged the first two targets without too much fuss! Throne in flames can the Captain shoot~! I never pegged too much from the Bolter Gals, but there’s something about a woman who can kill, skin, clean, and cook dinner all at once! Damn!

Last little bugger gave us some trouble, but thankfully the pilot must’ve been a damn good servitor. Took the bugger out without too much extra fuss. Captain came through again with some crack shots!

Well we got some kind of gorilla, some kind of Snake-a-Gator and a stealthly little Cat-Panther (that one put up a little fight). So since things were going so smoothly, we hit orbit and got back on the ship.

That’s when it all went to the Eye from there. Seems Gaston must’ve gotten wind of the Captain’s little call cause he pulled out of the warp and Throne in flames, was he pissed! Oh yea, did I mention he was apparently a Khorne Chaos worshipper?! Yea that must’ve slipped my mind! Well he pulls out of the warp and thanks to Peotre’s cog-crunching, we got the batteries live and armed and ready! Emperor’s Balls did those guns sing~! We battered him with all we had and luckily we tore his voidshields to shreds and detonated his ship. Through cries of “Blood for the Blood God” blagh blah blah, Gaston finally bit off more than he could chew!

Well we got back to the dirtball Forge World and got our money, thankfully before the Sisters of Battle could torch the place… That’s it, extensive background checks for all clients here on out!

Duke Ramsey, 1st officer of the Wrath of Aries, signing off…

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Dealing with the Crazy
Is only half my job.

(peator’s Log)

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Tea Time in the Middle of Nowhere

Personnel : Duke “Butch” Ramsey, 1st officer of the Wrath of Aries
Info Log: 0024
+ Active Audio Record Subroutine +

Frag it all to the damned Warp! Damn tech log’s given me some kinda nick name! That’s all I need, something else for the men to whisper behind my back. I bet the Captain did it. Not like there’s not enough to worry about with cleansing the last bits of our unwanted “guest” off the hull of this tub. Info banks said it was a Lichtor spawn of the Tyranid Hive Fleet. It was ugly and it was deadly, that’s all I needed to know. Damn thing had cammo and spear hooks. Not to mention huge Scything talons. I guess as far as tea guests go, he didn’t get a warm welcome. Emperor’s balls, I’m starting to sound like Echo. How long’s it been since I’ve slept.

I feel bad for Peotre, for a Cog boy, he’s pretty humble and he knows his job. Damn monster tore through two of his servitor zombies he lent me. I’m not sure if his toaster tech was like dealing with real men, but I can only imagine how bad it must’ve felt knowing their umm “warrantees were up”. I’ll have to apologize for losing them under my watch, that seems to be a bad habit.

Why can’t I ever meet a Xeno that shoots flowers or something. No, wait, scratch that. I’m not about to put anything to chance on this place. Thanks to my impromptu warp flight, I’m thinking just about anything can happen. I don’t want to sleep. It was like hearing all of my nightmares being played forward and reverse at the same time. I swear I could feel the gravel of that damn planet beneath my feet. I got think on way of improving … the situation. I gotta work on my aim in zero G. Damn Hellgun kicks wide when there’s no pull down on the barrel. Made my aim all Grox shit.

Captain’s been kinda lax lately too, only harassed one crewman this cycle and only made one gay joke at me. Guess there’s a lot on her mind, not that I could imagine what exactly. For and ex-Bolter Bitch her ship’s run pretty efficiently and loosely. Can’t complain, I’ve had worse CO’s in boot.

Funny how that makes me think about Cadia. Home? Hardly, it was a hive of gangs and thugs. Guard was the only way to get off that rock. I don’t think I could ever go back there, probably presumed dead anyway. This boat is home now. The plasteel walls and rockcrete walkways feel enough like the hive of home.

It just that damn warp travel! I swear it makes my ears buzz and my fillings want to pop out of my mouth. It’s just too damn unsettling. I’ve seen enough of what it did to our Astropath! It’s kinda funny how all the most important people on this ship are all Ork-Shit insane. Makes me think we can keep it together. We got some prospects, meager though they are. Explore a death world for some noble looking to increase his back yard, plot out a warp route where a known transport vessel went missing, or deliver some groceries off an Agri-world. Not much in the way of work to make her Dynasty look good, but we gotta take what we can get. I doubt those Space Wolves will remember the humble little vessel the lobbed them into the heart (well eye) of the Hive Ship ensuring them victory. Hell, I don’t even know if we get any Thrones for commission for a fuel surcharge. Shit, is this even part of my job to be thinking about this! It’s my job to shoot shit and look pissed off all the time. I’m not complaining that work’s picking up for that!

I ain’t a number cruncher but I’m sure our impromptu warp jump set us back about two weeks in resources (both figuratively and latterly). Oh well, Captain will think of something, she always does. There’s a brain in that cracked mind of hers and a raging heart for battle under that rack.

Wait, the hell? What was that? Goddamnit FANG get the FRAG AWAY FROM MY RATION PACKS PIECE OF SHI—-

+ Delete Audio Partition Zero Signal 5:25 +

Throne in Flames! Where the hell was I? Damn, that wretch, it’s any wonder I’ve been able to sleep at all with that slithering monstrosity lurking around. Little shit’s lucky I don’t put him down, the Captain would have my balls in a vice. Damn sure she would. Uhhh, another shift starting in 2 hours. I’m going to catch some sack time… better yet, think I’ll just have another cup of recaff, a vile of stimms and a tabac stick. Throw in a half chewed protein bar (damn it Fang) and it’s the breakfast of the fragging Emperor’s finest!

Duke Ramsey, 1st officer of the Wrath of Aries, signing off…

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Prologue
Beginnings, or Fang's Great Adventure

Day: 0

The sack of spores hurdled toward the planet at speeds that most Imperium ships would envy. As it entered the atmosphere the planet rebelled against it’s entry, wreathing the spores in flames and sundering the weaker parts of the biological carapace from the rest. Unheard from inside the protective shell klaxons were sounding far from the potential landing zone. Quickly followed by the pounding of Flak from the Guardsmen stationed in posts littered through out the death world known simply as: The Edge. A reference to it being one of the furthest inhabited planets in Imperium space: often prone to Ork invasions only recently did they receive the orbital flak cannons that were proving useless against the hardened casing of the insect like drop pod.

It hit the soft earth of The Edge with explosive fanfare, sending spores and pieces of hardened flesh into the surrounding ecosystem. Emerging from the green cloud that used to be the drop pod emerged a creature with long sything talons the size of most humans, a squid like face and the colorings of the nightmare to come. The Codex: Xeno classifies it as Tyranid: Genus Lictor—assassin and scout brood. No sooner had the spore cloud settled then the carapace of the beast shimmered and faded to match the forest world around it. We have arrived. It send the message through the synaptic link it shared with the hive fleet only a few days away. It vanished into the collection of trees, invisible to all but the most rigorous of scanning equipment.

In the crater it left behind green glowing biomass began to pool, each cell having a sentience all its own. Reacting to the requests from the shared link that all of the hive fleet shared, it began to devour everything it could: feeding its own mitosis. Of all the half aware cells in the collecting mass, there was one that would be destined for greatness.

Far off through the void, an Adepta Sororitas ship, peered through the great distances and found nothing. The Navigator and Astropath Transcendent both walked up to the ships captain, warning her of the impending shadow they can both see in the Immaterium. Course corrections were made.

Day: 5
Whoever had watch duty several days ago clearly fraked things up. Estimates on the landing zone were as far off as 1000km. On The Edge that can be more hazardous then the potential invading force. Now Jabal, hardly a sergeant, and his squad of Imperial Guard Scouts are on their way to the most recently predicted crash zone for the mysterious drop pod that no one can confirm. He chewed on his tabac a little, hesitant to be sending his troops into the middle of nowhere on a hostile enough planet. If it wasn’t for duty, he would have told the flunky of a watch officer to fuck off.

+2 Hours
Jabal blinked a moment, he was on his back. Gunfire, screams and wet ripping sounds filled the near by area. His mind desperately tried to remember what happened. There was an explosion. No. The force of one, but no heat.

He made his way to his feet, grabbing his las-gun that had been tossed to the side.

They had breached a perimeter, the first signs of a familiar Tyranid threat, they were preparing to Vox back when the tuck was hit by something. Jabal’s mind reached back into his memory as he looked around to sight whatever it was that had hit them. He realized it was quiet. All of his squad had been eliminated. Markings on the truck spoke to the force which had been applied. Buried in the side was a fleshy arrow like puncture, the missile still stuck in the side of the vehicle with a ripped off tendril of muscle attached. Flesh Hooks. Jabal, now more scared then before, scanned with increased haste for any Xeno that might try and kill him. He could hear movement, but he couldn’t see where it was coming from. A moment later something slithered out from a near by bush.

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