Archive for December, 2008

Abandon Ship!

Posted in WH40K:Dark Heresy with tags , , on December 2, 2008 by sundaygamers

Kaine extracts data from the cameras on Levels 1-3. There were holes in the walls and the floors, las-fires and men were running frantically. I recall a pre-Imperial ancient text saying that Fear and Panic are the children of Chaos.

And indeed, we heard a huge boom and the ship shook. Kaine instinctively scanned the dataports again. “Data systems are breaking down. Almost everything in Level 2 has burned down.”

One of Durga’s captains reported ominously, “The men are taking the pods for their own safety…I …await your orders.”

“Meet us at Level 3, captain.” Durga repied through vox. Then she turned to us. “To the pods! Quick!”
We rush to the elevators. It stopped at Level 2 and opened for about twenty men. A few seconds later, they all fall dead. We were about to close the doors when we saw a massive 4-meter figure in black Terminator Armor shooting at the Ork horde while falling back.

“Foul xenos!” the figure screamed while peppering the enemy with his Assault Cannon. He turned to us, showing his skull-adorned helm of an Adeptus Astartes chaplain. “Step back! To the back of the elevator! And shut the door!”

Before asking if he was suicidal (most Marines seek glory in battle, after all), we did as he asked. As the doors hissed shut, we saw him throwing some smoke bombs. He began to shimmer…and disappear.

A few moments later, he rematerializes in the elevator, we had to make room due to the sheer size of him. He stood almost 4 meters tall, the armor mostly black with a green chest plate, a white skull painted on the helmet, white greaves and shoulder guards, a Rosarius around his neck and a red eagle’s head on the left shoulder, an indication that he’s a Chaplain from the Mentors Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes . He casually spits on his weapon to cool it down.

“Praise to the Emperor, chaplain.” Durga greeted in her high-born accent “I am Durga, an interrogator in the service of Lord Inquisitor Rorken. And these are our associates.”

“Ahh, Rorken,” the marine mused, “I know him from the Cadian Rebellion. Let’s go down to Level 3. I have a pod there being prepared.”

As the elevator eases into a halt, we hear even more gunfire and las-blasts. When the elevator doors slid open, the Marine Chaplain voxes, “Guardsmen! To one knee!” the very floor vibrated beneath us with his dominating voice. I almost did as he said out of terror but before we knew it, his Cyclone Missle Launcher bleeped to life and launched a shell over the guardsmen and to the Ork horde. The blast effectively cleared most of the path to the pods, but it also called the attention of three Ork bigmeks. The sight of the marine made them see red. With a terrible warcry, they call the rest of the Orks nearer.

I had to make a decision fast. “Chaplain, I need a boost.”

He looked at me quizzically.

“Can you toss me to the pod?”

“I can, but…”

“Good.” I clamber up his leg and he got the picture. He picked me up with his Power Fist and I curled up myself in the ball of his palm.

He paused “Have you done this before?”

“Not with a chaplain. But we’ll figure it out. Aim well.”

He shrugged his shoulders and threw his arm back, ready to pitch. Was I scared? You bet I was. I have had some practice gliding in the upper stratas of some hives with my stretch suit fins but I’ve never been catapulted by anything, much less a Space Marine. But I was more afraid of the three hulking beasts raging at us along with their Ork boyz. “Ready? On three.”

And I sailed through the air with my eyes closed for the first few milliseconds. I felt so peaceful flying over the throng, like I could be air-borne forever. I only reckoned spreading my wings when I felt the pull of gravity and my body curving down. I easily found the top of the pod guarded below by a figure with a bolter …quot; a servitor. I touched down unnoticed.

The Marine watched my figure land on the pod, he then voxed his servitor some instructions. I assumed that he told the servitor that I am safe so I made my way down into the pod.

Seeing this, he turned to Kaine and tossed him a stikk-bomb.

“Give me that!” said Salvador as he grabbed the bomb from Kaine. “I have an idea. Everyone run and shoot. Keep ‘em busy… and cover me.”

The team all made for the pod while shooting at the Ork boyz. The chaplain faces off with one of the Big Meks. The stupid brute did not notice Salvador sliding between the Marine’s legs…and right underneath the Mek’s crotch. All I saw from my post was the Ork looking between its legs as Salvador whizzes past. He stared in disbelief for a few moments, and exploded.

Salvador reaches the pod in safety. “Not bad, eh?” He was grinning from ear to ear. “Always wear protection between your legs.”
The marine teleports behind the bigmek on the right and started swinging his power sword at him. A combination of two swift slashes and the bigmek falls.

I found the pod’s missile launcher and aim it at the Big Mek standing in the middle. and that was the end of him.

The marine teleported into the pod. “All aboard!” Some of the troops rush into the pod. The rest of our party squeezed themselves in as well.

In a rare show of compassion, Salvador tries to save a few limping ones falling behind. When he managed to drag the poor souls in, I decided to raise the hatch. We could only save so many troopers.

“Buckle up!” I announced. I hit the release button and the pod whirred to life. The men cheer loudly as we zip out of the invaded ship.

The sight of the mighty Imperial Battleship invaded by an Ork horde in less than an hour filled me with dread. This rushed ambush attack was all too familiar with me. My family once owned a space station, a mega-orbital platform. It was the beacon, the home dock of our trade ships. It, too, was taken by the Ork in a similar manner.

But I had to cast aside such thoughts. This was no time for sentiments. I still had work to do – deliver Rorken’s team to their destination. I program the pod to head for Skorgulian’s space port.


Character Tidbit : Durga

Posted in Dark Heresy Character Tidbits with tags , , on December 2, 2008 by sundaygamers

–Miki on Durga–

That haughty little hive-born brat. She’s like all those in the upper stratum, with their noses turned up to those in the lower dregs, in the void….and everybody else. All those party girls are so vain, no wonder she became a biomancer.

She calls herself Durga, and she lately she prefers a strong, sinewy form. But no one really knows how she looks like. She has created herself an athletic form that does not hide her curves, but rather even shows them off. She does love showing them off, even through her armor.

She’s not vain about her hair, though. She just pulls it back in a high ponytail. It’s wine-colored and thick and seems to move with her.

She tells us that she’s sort of a gladiator back home, but I don’t buy any of it. I mean, why could a socialite from the upper strata debase herself with fighting in Sewertown? And for what? Money? As if she ever needed to lift a finger to get what she wanted. My parents, on the other hand, taught me how to earn my own living and be my own boss.

The Imperium issued her a standard armor but she also had one made out of silver covered in palladium. They gave her a powerblade, she had another one made so she can brandish two at a time. Talk about overkill. She claims it all comes from her street fighting spoils.

She claims that she won’t ever ask anything of her overprotective parents. To them she was a freak because of her shape-shifting gift.

Now if only I did not relate so well with that. If only I didn’t try to emulate her elegant but powerful moves in battle. And if only we didn’t make a good team. Maybe I would hate her. But I really couldn’t.

People are unnerved by her bio-enhanced cat eyes, especially when they glow in the dark. But I can see through them. And I see that beyond all that loudness is a deep wisdom. Beyond all that flashiness, is a cautious and analytical mind.

No, I cannot truly hate her.

Character Tidbit — Miki

Posted in Dark Heresy Character Tidbits with tags , , on December 2, 2008 by sundaygamers

Yes, they call me the Unworthy Child. Miki was the name my parents gave me many a score ago, the same parents I betrayed in order to be spared by the Imperium. They raised me in a carrier ship that specialized in the trade and transport of Xenotech. My experience of alien technology has been my blessing and my curse: it certainly has enriched my knowledge of the known universe, but it has stunted my growth. An accident when I was twelve years old exposed me to a strange kind of radioactive material; and my body has never developed since. The radiation merely turned my skin to a yellowish pale color and singed my black hair to a dark indigo sheen. I was hoping for the feminine shape my mother had but year after year came and I never changed. I have stopped counting. I have much business to do. And this was only one of those missions.

I have dealt with all kinds of races but I have never understood my own kind. Humans have always feared the unknown; so much that they seek to destroy knowledge that they don’t comprehend. My family has used this scarcity, and illegality, of such technology to our benefit. Our illicit fortune soon turned into whispered infamy across the Void. The Imperium took notice and placed a hefty bounty on our heads. I simply chose to survive…Nor does the Imperium own me. I may work under its shadow, but I live on its tail: I do as I please as long as it has its back turned to me. And now it’s business as usual.