Memorium Vitae

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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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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Dealing with the Crazy
Is only half my job.

(peator’s Log)

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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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A Voice in the Darkness
Speaking to the Shadows

Oh. Hello.

I suppose you all want to know what’s happened.

Aries is a gentle beast, but fierce when roused. He liked the wolves, though they didn’t stay long, venturing out to tear holes in the eyes of space. I liked them too, but wolves have claws and teeth and jaws for rending and tearing and gnashing. I hope they are happy, where they are. It will be a long journey home for them.

Do wolves like tea?

The eye saw us, and reached out with long and grasping hands to pull us into the shadow, but His Excellency was ever-courageous, venturing out into the boiling cold to scrape the fingers from great Aries with fire and light. Darkness runs from him and his shining heart, into the arms of the Lady. She is not gentle.

Snicker-snack. Off comes the dragon’s head.

Did you know dragons can live even without a head?

Aries lives, and so do we all.

The star-voices sang in the black. The Lady listened close, and chose one voice amongst the thousand to follow to a hunt, with a beast scarred and stained in red. His den was angry and filled with ghosts. His food was rotten, gore and ash in a pleasing shape. I could not push away the fear in his men’s hearts, though I tried. My hands are clumsy and not made for comfort.

The safari took us to a jungle of creatures, and the Lady deftly sent her nets to capture their princes. I feared for them in the hands of the beast, for his anger would bleed into them and steal their light and turn them to dust. It surrounds him like a cloud, hides his true form.

He ate so much dust, a handful for each year.

Ate.

Eight.

A red stain in the warp, a gash in the flesh of space and he is on us, hunting us as we hunted before. Our god is stronger than his. He was an ugly man, and had an ugly death, drunk on blood and skulls.

Eight deaths for his god.

I wonder if he noticed.

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The Hard Choice Between Exterminatus and Knee Caps

Personnel : Duke “Butch” Ramsey, 1st officer of the Wrath of Aries
Info Log: 0026

+ Active Audio Record Subroutine +

Wow, I must’ve blanked out there for a moment. I had the dream again, no wonder I finally had a second to get some sleep and what happens? Echo wakes me up and says the captain wants to see me. Apparently I was late for the fireworks show and didn’t get a front row seat to watch the Forge World die… It’s oddly unsettling to see an entire planet blinked out of existence. What’s worse is the matter of fact way the captain went right back to business. Pulled out the job lists to what was on the agenda, the damned nightmare already fading with the last chunks of that Chaos tainted rock. I think Echo knows about the dream too, that’s kinda unsettling.

+ Audio Recording Suspended+

Log Resume/ Time Stamp (plus 15 Hours, Standard Terran Time)

Well the best thing about getting paid for a mission, is getting paid for one you didn’t need to do in the first place. Yea so after suggesting the nice safe agri-world mission to the captain again, she decides in what ever warp-wisdom to go to the planet that lost its supply hauler in the warp… fragging lovely. We set off and touched down without too much incident, thankfully. We even got a decent detail of Imperial Guard troopers, not Cadian, but decent enough.

Echo seemed to be in her element though, looking at shadows and talking to bushes that weren’t there. I didn’t pay it any mind at the time but it came back to slap us in the face pretty quickly. We were escorted to the Nobles’ house and were presented to a collective of the ruling class of this little backwater. Seemed they weren’t only missing their freighter, but it looked like the planet’s food supply was turning up a little short thanks to the accounting of a particular noble.

It seemed like a good enough excuse to stay planet side and earn a few extra thrones. On top of that, there was this young lady whose estate was in some “haunted woods”. I figured their tech wasn’t too good so it’d be worth running a few auspex scans to see if we couldn’t find the source. By the Throne, we could at least charged them a hefty consultation fee.

Echo also seemed to key in on a particularly plain looking Noble Woman. Seems like she was just recently recovered form a terrible sickness that claimed the life of her father. A likely story that Echo didn’t buy, so along with the captain’s blessing (or outright demand), we figured the most subtle and safe thing to do was to break into this lady’s house.

We started out searching the town and met up with this odd guy who called himself a bard by the name of Talespinner. He told us a little more about the noble woman and the haunted forest and the captain thought it was a good idea to let him tag along. She was probably saving him as a bullet sponge. Well after that, the only thing left to do was go house hunting.

Lucky us, I tagged along keeping the captain covered and Echo goes outside in the woods to prance around. She comes back muttering some nonsense as the captain finds some interesting stones in her ladyship’s personal crap. The whole situation started to reek of a trap, but it got weirder. Seems the stones opened up a portal in the Noble woman’s closet. Of course Echo had to go in. Well, better her than me, can’t warp a mind that’s already cracked.

During some point while searching the house, Talespinner up and disappears! Right before the damn lady comes home too. Our presence wasn’t well received either as the Guard tried to gas us out. Thankfully, captain kicked back their crowd control grenades and a I sprayed down some cover fire. As predicted, they broke quickly. Well the noble woman confronted us and that’s when stuff took a turn for the even weirder! Our noble hostess appeared to be a member of the Xenos race known as the Eldar! On top of that, Talespinner was one of her Elder lackeys. Well a few foot troops poof clear out of thin air and we find ourselves in a tense stand off. Typical. Well luckily our hostess is up for talking so she explains allot of the messed up details.

Well come to find out, the portal was a gateway to the Webway, an inter-dimensional closet used by the Elder to store all the missing shit that was screwing up the planet! Heh, Echo grabbed a few souvenirs (said she saw herself too) and popped out seeming just damned and happy!

Yea, Eldar, as in this planet was a “Maiden World” that had belonged to them before the Imperials showed up. Seemed they wanted some useless rock and they were looking to starve and demoralize the planet. They even managed to hide the freighter that went missing in their Webway too. It was a good thing we tied a rope to Echo before sending her in there, we could have just as easily lost our navigator.

Well after the typical threats of planet vaporizing and mutual annihilation, we had to come to some kind of compromise. Our crew wasn’t outfitted to deal with the Eldar on their terms (though I don’t doubt the captain had the brass to try anyway). It took some serious story cooking but we managed to hammer out an even trade.

Well the planet was fictitiously upgraded to a Death World and the Nobles were confined to the portion of the planet they had occupied, forbidden to enter the haunted woods on pain of death. With that settled, Talespinner, who turned out to be name Ulthuan, joined our little rag-tag bunch sort of as an insurance policy to allow us to stay in contact with his lady-friend.

He’s not a bad guy, a little strange, but I’ve come to accept that anything short of shot to the warp is an enemy. Well, speaking of enemies, seems these Eldar knew more about me than I thought. Either they can read dreams or they did one damned good background check.

Well it seems they gave me the coordinates to the last known location of that Commissar… I don’t know if I should let this possible lead go unaccounted for or not. I don’t have the kind of pocket change to afford the trip and I’m already in the captain’s pocket for plenty of cash. Damn. This isn’t going to slip my mind easily. I think I better go talk to the captain, this might effect my job performance…

End of Audio Log

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Spinning Tales
And outright Lies

Ulthuan walked up to his desk, sitting down he contemplated simply doing as the Dark Eldar do and live in the webway. Brushing the idea aside he kicked his feet up on the desk, taking in the surroundings of his room. Sparse and poorly decorated from what he was accustomed to, but nice enough given what these Mon-keighs had to offer. Still, they had earned him: in fair trade and a nice deal. Though Ulthuan still felt he had received the better part of it: he was able to fight next to savages, and bring back stories of high adventure. While the Lady Farseer retrieved the three of the six soulstones that were in her possession. There was a small flashing glow, an incoming message.

She spoke in the language more ancient then some stars, and he responded in kind.
“Most magnificent Farseer,” He was being an ass, “Did it unfold as you wanted?”
“I don’t have time for your games, Ulthuan.” She chided. “I am sending you coordinates to the Commissar that the one called ‘Duke’ is searching for. He isn’t there now, but he will find what he is looking for there.” She rattled off a list of numbers that Ulthuan transcribed into Gothic, he nodded, knowing she couldn’t hear, but could feel his acknowledgement. A tense moment passed. “I have allowed for the Craftworld to send the supplies you requested. Are you sure you wish to walk these paths again?”

He thought a moment, unsure if it was his right to all but steal from the Aspect Shrines of his home. “I fear I may need them, but shouldn’t you be telling me if I do?”

“The one called Echo clouds my visions of you. Warps them with her own filter.” The sounds of dire warning were hidden in her voice. “I fear there is corruption there. Watch her, for there are signs of the serpent about your path.” A pang of familiar fear: Tzeench.

“As you wish, Farseer.” He smiled, hoping to change the subject. “You never answered my question.” She sighed.

“It went better then I thought, I feared that those stones that their, your captain,” She was toying with him and he was happy for it, “stole would never be returned to us, and be lost to She-Who-Thirsts due to their ignorance.” It was a somber thought. “But I had spoken with them as best I could before. They agreed the sacrifice was worthy for that Maiden World is one of the stepping stones on the long road to survival.” He thought about it again, in hindsight the gambit was worth it then. He reflected that that was the gift of the Farseers: to have hindsight, before walking the path.

“Also, Ulthuan…” The tone caught him off guard.

“Yes Farseer?”

“Come back to me in one piece. I see a lot of peril in this path you have chosen.”

“Is this a warning from your position?” He toyed.

“No, it is a warning as your elder sister.” His heart sank a little. He felt is was unfair to pull that on him, though he knew it to be otherwise. With that the comms-link closed. Looking over to what served as a closet he set to work building a gate to the webway. He counted himself fortunate that he walked a civilian path before his long military career.

After several hours of construction-which mostly consisted of singing to Wraithstone-he had finished the gateway. It was large enough to fit a person through, but that was all he needed. Walking in he found small replicas of the shrines to the Aspect Warriors. There were his two, with the Armor there for them: The Pathfinder, and The Harlequin. Walking back out he closed the doorway behind him, taking the minor soulstone with him. He now needed to find The Duke to give him his mission. Though, he would now be more wary of Echo. Still there was something about her, she was too innocent for the great deceiver, but then again, maybe it was all a ruse.

He knocked on Duke’s door.

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Knee caps
Someone wants to lose 'em.

(Personal log of Lady Captain Sif Reinheart, first of her name, Rogue Trader aboard the Wrath of Aries, former Bride of the Emperor, of the 13th lost legion)

=Info log 001=

Humm… It’s been….awhile, I admit since I’ve done one of these things… I tend not to record my thoughts. People can get a hold of them, use them against you, use them against the ones you care for. Information is deadly…more so then the sword…and more so then desperate ugly people. (A slight giggle is heard as she shifts a bit in her seat and a soft purr sounds somewhere close.) He’s like a dog you know. I used to have so many back home. Mother insisted I get cats but I hate the things. Dogs stick close. Dogs are loyal. Dogs follow your orders like the simple animals they are. (Soft whine is heard) Oh! Fang, I’m not saying YOU are the dog. (The whine turns back into a purr noise) Duke, I mean. He is a Dog. A scruffy, kinda dumb, always following my crazy orders, lovable old dog-not that I love him or anything!…Fang, stop looking at me like that! Sonuvabi-

=Audio file time deleted- Altering live feed=

(clears her throat.) Now anyway…where was I going with this? Ah yes…The missions lately. Well, honestly, to tell the truth I wasn’t paying much attention. (Another bout of giggles) But I do remember most of it. Hunting, right. For an ugly guy that we all affectionately just call ‘no more face’ or ‘explosive decompression man’ and be we all… mean just me. Probably. Most likely. Maybe not. Well anyway, we went hunting for him, I showed off how awesome women can be yet again to my subordinates and then we were promptly followed by mister no face explosive decompression man. Well Mister ugly butt here met his fate as all evil blood god followers do…or eventually will when I get my hands on them.

Remember kiddies, when life give you Blood gods, EXTERMINATUS. <3

Our next grand yet somewhat annoying adventure led us to some…world we almost crashed into to…I was three whiskies in, I didn’t even care anymore. I was just hoping we hit something hard so I wouldn’t have to limp away from this wreck. A captain goes down with the ship, right…and I am making damn well sure that I am the last captain of the Wrath of Aries. I’ll never let another have my ship. Well….At least no one I wouldn’t want to give it to. Like…I guess if I popped out a few kids someday, they could take the ship when I died…but they would have to be like me…Emperor save us! Can you imagine me a mother?

(A sudden silence overtakes the log)

…I well… (Obviously hesitating) Lets get back on track…now is not the time for pondering things that will never be. Or echo may tell me there is always time for that if she was here. I like that girl…I don’t know why people think she’s creepy. She’s a bit strange but that would be calling the kettle black so it were. Her strange-ness has never bothered me before and has yet to. It brings some joy to me to see her acting the way she does…Yes…I think I’ll keep her.

Wooooopsie! Off track again! Anyway, we went to this world and the moment Echo starting telling me that ‘things were hiding’ I knew something was amiss. People hide…not trees and plants…unless you’re on a death world and then that’s a whole new story. There was a consul of old dudes and one younger plain girl. I instantly suspected she was not what she was trying to be. Maybe that comes from the sister’s of battle training…I couldn’t place at the time that she wasn’t human….just that she was…fake. I would keep an eye on her. We promised to resolve everything for them.

Well, I was right. The chick was an Eldar…big surprise…I know my code tells me not to suffer the Xeno but Fuck the code. They weren’t hurting anyone…yet. A lot of crazy shit happened with something called a web way in a closet…it sounds crazy just saying but this is me after all so no one should be surprised. The supplies were in the web way… Another not so big surprise. Oh! We had a bard guy with us that was kinda cute. He knew too much of course so I instantly suspected that he was in on it….and I was right. He too, is an Eldar…or a harlequin…whatever. Same bloody thing. Ulthuan, his name is I think. Well we got him in a trade from the head Eldar in charge…and since this was their planet first and blah, blah, blah, enter proud Eldar stuff here, we decided to set it up that this place is a death world. It’s really not of course but the Eldar can live freely on their side and not be bothered by the humans. Now that I’ve set a duck tape line down the middle with the whole childish bullshit- my half your half- we can resume. The ship was returned and so were the supplies and we got paid. Oh…and that other fail rogue trader showed up. Too bad it was too late. Nice try guys. Ugly people are so funny.

Soooo, now with this Eldar upon the ship he needs to learn a few things. Most important of all, I don’t care how cute he is, if he brings something upon my ship that’s….THAT WAY….without telling me… he’s lost his knee cap privileges. Do it again, I go for the privates. Secondly, dear, my eyes are up here. I’m flattered you like them so much tough.

So that about sums everything up. Come join Sif’s own Noah’s ark! Hauling every freak across the known cosmos… Fucking your shit up and ruining your day!

(A deep sigh) I think I’m done with this….how do I turn this fucking shit off…? Fang.. I don’t think biting the terminal will-

=End of Captains log=

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Exeunt Omnes
They all go out.

I will tell you a story.

Once upon a time, the fair folk laid their hands across the stars and plucked a fruit from the tree of life with delicate fingers. This they marked as theirs for all time, though when they planted the seed of that fruit in the fertile soil of the galaxy, they had no idea how long they would have to wait for its full flowering. They left, to dance among the stars again in the years before their Fall, and left the little seed to grow alone, in the dark.

Humans came, and saw the beautiful flower the seed had become, and took it for their own. They lived in peace for many long years, but the fair folk, searching for their lost seeds, found instead humanity crawling along the branches and using leaves and petals as shelter. The fair folk feared a blight would grow bone-deep within the flowered seed, destroying it and all they worked for, and so they set into motion a grand masque that would drive the aphidic humans from their prize, so the dancers could at last claim their stage.

That was where the Aries alit, having heard the voices in the void calling out for help. We descended upon the fronds of bone and wood and heard stories from the monochromatic lords that had no imagination behind them. All but one, the sickly-bright fair lady of mistrust, dressed in swirling colors to confuse and dazzle. The trees and the shrubs and the sky itself beg not to be noticed.

Lies glazed the village like hot, sticky sugar, melting in the sun, as the villagers hid their eyes. Jingle, jingle went the masks around their waist. Why did they not wear them on their faces? The kindly spider makes them just for that purpose. A poet accosts us, the strangers among strangers, and leads us on a merry chase toward the sun to see where the spider queen makes her nest.

There are dancers in the woods, pulling aside the trees like a curtain to hide their ghostly forms. In and out and in and out they thread, taking sustenance back to their nest. They are always on stage, no matter where they are. It must hurt, to always wear a mask.

The Lady takes their souls and opens a door. It calls to me; the masks guard the way, so I could pass unseen through webs cast to snare the unwary. I am split in two and two and two and steal a kiss from beneath their many eyes to take back with me, walking the silver line that leads to the present.

They came to us then, in that hollow room. The masks slipped from their faces, and they revealed their true forms, fair folk come to take back the seed they planted so long ago. The Lady proposed a plan – the humans would be as aphids to the fair folk, tended with fear and mistrust and kept away from the delicate roots of the flowered seed. She gave them their souls back, and the fair lady gave us her jester, to entertain us in the void. And so we flew back to Aries with our jester in tow, and His Excellency is lucky because the jester will sleep with him even though I said he could stay in my room and tell me more stories.

The end.

I would tell you the real story, but I don’t know how to dance yet.

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Feeds from the Cameras
Eyes in the Fog

Report.

The eyes that watched the monitors deep in the maintenance tunnels glared red in the dim glow of the orange light. Seeing the approaching shuttle they smiled.

Just as planned. It thought. Schemes in schemes, wheels in wheels, plans that counter themselves, all coalescing into this moment. Deliver them some Evil. The figure’s form let soft cackles as it sat back to watch the show. It’s Daemon in Bear’s Clothing already picked up and ready to be delivered. Sending a flurry of commands to it’s subordinates spells and chants began to increase: before they arrive, everything must be set. Visitors were coming for dinner. It must look nice.

More to come

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