|Topic Review (Newest First)|
|09-02-13 09:02 PM|
Dimitar was in his bizarrely decorated quarters, clambering into his heavily customised and very alien suit of power armour. All about him were the trophies of years spent adventuring, raiding, smuggling and plundering. There was all manner of curios and furnishings, from ancient puzzle boxes to the opulent and bejewelled Eldar chest that sat at the foot of his giant tyranid-bone bed. As he secured the cuirass around his torso, a speaker in the ceiling buzzed and a hoarse, skeletal voice spoke over the vox.
“Captain? It is Vlados. There is something I must tell you.”
Igo Dimitar scowled at the sound of the navigator’s voice.
“What is it Vlados? Can it not wait?” he replied, impatiently.
“No my captain, I am afraid it cannot. Will you meet me in my chamber?” Vlados enquired thinly.
“No Vlados, I will not. If it relates to a warp disturbance, then communicate the details to Lt. Varga. She is in command whilst I am off ship.”
There was a pause. Vlados now spoke urgently. “You must not set foot on that vessel, captain. It will be your end.”
Dimitar had finished with his armour and scooped up an ornate conical helmet from the bed.
“Nonsense, Vlados. I have had enough of your fearful gibberings. Speak no more of these irrational things, and make no mention of them to my crew. They are superstitious enough as it is. Remain in your cell and do your job.” Dimitar placed the helm over his head and locked the neck clasps. Then he strode across the room to open a weapons cabinet to withdraw an ornate pistol and a long, curved power blade. As he made to leave, Vlados spoke again over the vox.
“Beware the beast, captain, lest it slay you; but beware the beast within, lest it slay us all.”
Dimitar snorted at this typically cryptic piece of advice from the navigator and closed the door behind him.
|09-02-13 09:01 PM|
Sorry for the radio silence guys - it's been a hectic few months! Thanks for all the support and kind words (not to mention the rep)!
Back to the story...
|04-30-13 06:52 PM|
Churian and Borski had crossed to the other side of the large chamber, circling around the jutting prominence of the cylindrical cooling tower that dominated the centre of the high-ceilinged room. They had climbed up onto a walkway and stepped between partially opened doors that led into a control room that overlooked the chamber. It was Borski’s intention to access a map of the sector in order to identify another route off this dread vessel; Churian, on the other hand, wanted to find the best route to the warp drive. He wasn’t the brightest of officers, but he was incredibly loyal and would follow his captain’s command to the last.
There was a terrible screeching sound from across the chamber, and the two men ducked down behind the wide window that overlooked the coolant tower, clutching their guns to their chests, backs to the consoles. They glanced at each other.
“That was the blast door we just came through, I’m sure of it,” Borski whispered urgently.
Churian nodded his agreement.
“What are we going to do?” Borski said. “We can’t wait here.”
The lieutenant twisted his body around and gradually lifted his head to peer over the terminals and through the muck-covered window. He could see nothing, but the blast door was on the other side of the central coolant tower. He sat back down next to Borski and pointed at a door at the other end of the control room.
“We go through there.”
|04-18-13 12:06 PM|
Zenaya Markov was at a loss. The pool of blood on the floor was extremely disconcerting, and she suspected the worst – that it belonged to one of Churian’s team. The quantity of blood suggested that whoever spilt it was dead already. She had tried raising Churian on the vox, but there was nothing.
“What do we do, Markov?” quavered the voice of Yannick, the burly mechanic. Usually the first one up for a fight, Yannick was uncharacteristically fearful. They all were. She pondered for a moment, before coming to a decision.
“We move forward,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Our crew mates are in there somewhere, and we have a job to do.” She looked over at Mavidenko as he worked on the wiring at the control terminal.
“How close are you to getting that door open?” she asked.
As if in response there was a whirring sound as the power cells came back on line, and the big door began to slowly move downwards with an ear-splitting screaching sound. The four crew members dropped into defensive postures, two of them aiming their weapons down the corridor behind them, whilst Markov and Yannick raised theirs to point at the door. Once it slammed home in the floor recess, Markov spoke again.
“Let’s go.” And the four cautiously walked through the wide opening that yawned before them.
|04-18-13 12:06 PM|
Igo Dimitar’s patience was wearing thin; which considering his naturally intolerant and volatile disposition was nothing new. The crew on the bridge could see it, and they were all busying themselves at their stations, making every effort not to make eye contact with their captain. The pict feed from Markov’s team had all of a sudden disappeared.
“Markov, what is your status? We’ve lost visuals.” he barked into the vox. There was a crackling and after a few seconds Zenaya Markov’s distorted voice responded, although it sounded distant and was breaking up.
“- - found blood - - fresh - -,” was all that came through, as the signal became more distorted.
Dimitar stood up from his chair and planted his hands on the console, scowling. “Say again, Markov. You’re breaking up.”
“- - heard screams - - quick - - can’t find - -.”
The captain’s brow furrowed in frustration. “Markov, send one of your men with a booster back to relay the signal. Do you copy?” Dimitar was becoming increasingly irritated by the repeated breakdown in communications.
There was silence for a while, before the garbled voice of Markov replied.
Dimitar got up from the terminal and span on his heel, marching with purpose towards the door. He glanced over at Lt. Varga as the big door slid open.
“Assemble another team and have them meet me on the umbilical. Tell them to break out the heavy weapons; I’m going in to sort this mess out.”
|04-18-13 12:05 PM|
Upon hearing the second scream, Markov decided that enough was enough. She was a soldier and steadfastly loyal to her comrades, so she made a split second decision and turned to her men.
“Follow me,” she said, before breaking into a sprint up the wide passageway. The others looked at each other, momentarily shocked by their leader’s actions, before running after her. Their footfalls were loud, and the sound of heavy boots landing on the metal deck plates rang up and down the corridor. There was no disguising their approach now.
They ran up the long corridor for two hundred metres before reaching an intersection, where they stopped for Markov to rapidly check the deck plans on her data slate.
“The reactor’s this way. Come on,” she said, and they resumed their breakneck dash to aid their colleagues.
It was three hundred metres or so before they reached the half-opened blast door that led to the outer reactor chambers. Markov pointed to the open circuitry of the control panel and Mavidenko went over to it, pulling tools from his pack.
“Markov. There’s blood here,” exclaimed Bodan, kneeling on the deck and running his finger across a red smear on the floor.
|04-15-13 12:02 AM|
Borski could see what looked like Temmov desperately trying to haul his bulky suit over the lip of the blast door. His hands were frantically clawing, looking for any purchase on the smooth metal, and he was crying out for help. Churian was moving towards him, reaching out with gloved hands. Borski was sprinting back down the short corridor to help his shipmate out, but stopped just short when, with a sudden jerk Temmov was yanked backwards to disappear behind the door, screaming in pain and terror.
“No! No! Aaargh!” There was a sickly tearing sound, followed by a crunch and then silence.
“Temmov!” yelled Churian. “Gregor!” He spun round to face Borski.
“Give me a leg up. Quick!” the officer shouted. Borski dearly wanted to just turn and run, but his loyalty to his crew mates outweighed his fear, so he lunged forward, slamming his back to the wall, planting his feet and clasping his hands together in front of his groin. Churian wasted no time and shoved his boot into Borski’s palms and pushed himself upwards. As he reached the lip of the blast door, he paused to draw his plasma pistol, took a breath and in one swift movement was looking over the top, gun in both hands, ready to shoot whatever had attacked his comrades.
But there was nothing there. No sign of any attacker and no sign of his crew mates.
“They’re gone!” Churian whispered loudly through gritted teeth.
“What do you mean, they’re gone?” was Borski’s disbelieving reply.
“I mean, they’re gone. There’s no sign of them. No bodies; nothing.” After a few seconds as he scanned the corridor with the light from his torch, Churian finally leapt down onto the floor, and stood up next to Borski.
“I saw blood on the deck,” was all he said.
Borski grimaced in despair and felt anger rising within him. “Temmov! Gregor! Can you hear me? Temmov! Gregor!” he yelled over the vox, despite the fact he didn’t expect a response.
He looked into Churian’s eyes through the slit in his visor.
“We’ve got to get the frag out of here,” he said.
|04-14-13 03:15 PM|
“Did you hear that?” Yannick asked, with a noticeable tremor in his voice.
Markov responded by signalling for her men to halt and get down. As they squinted along the iron sights of their weapons into the gloom ahead, Markov spoke quietly into her vox.
“Captain, we heard what sounded like a scream. Moving up to investigate.”
“Copy that, Markov. Proceed with caution,” he replied.
Gesturing again in Imperial battle sign, Markov instructed the others to get up and proceed down the long, wide corridor. Yannick was on point, much to his consternation, and Markov moved up alongside him to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He responded by giving a thumbs up and they continued their cautious walk, tiptoeing carefully on the metal deck plating so as to make as little noise as possible.
|04-14-13 03:13 PM|
|chilledmonkeybrains||Cheers Mr Hobbit! Here's some more...|
|04-10-13 01:08 PM|
|Dave T Hobbit||The little snippets approach is working really well for me.|
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