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This is my new project. I had a radical idea, but some of the gribbly loose ends need to be tied up. To take away any confusion, the year is 740.M42.
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Captain Horst of the Deathwatch turned to face the creature. Two long claws had sliced through his armor, and it had almost killed him. To be honest, he wondered why it hadn't. It had been a foot from decapitating him when it clutched it's head, screeched in pain, and toppled over. He instructed his men to bind it.
Magister Francias Lokan had seen it all.
He had seen men turned to crazed machines by the Inquisition. He had seen the hives on Volcanis Ultor be turned to nuclear fire after Ghargatuloth rose. He had seen amazing and terrible things, but the creature before him took his breath away.
The Lictor stood almost nine feet tall at the shoulder, more than eleven with it's claws. It weighed exactly one hundred and six kilograms. It's pheramone levels were normal. It was, in all respects, a normal Lictor.
Except it wasn't trying to kill them all.
When Lokan had brought the creature in, he had thrown it into the holding pen, and released the clasps holding it together. It had simply stood up and paced. It's claws scraped designs into the ceiling where they toutched. Lokan touched the intercomm, wondering.
"Don't do that. Those ceiling panels are expensive."
The Lictor whipped around. Lokan looked on in amazement. The creature, which could have used him as a cleaning rag, looked up at the scratches, and lowered it's massive claws.
Lokan picked up the vox next to his personal one. It was black and had a small symbol on it.
=I=
"Hello?" said Lokan. "I think we found it."
_______________________________________________________________________
Captain Horst of the Deathwatch turned to face the creature. Two long claws had sliced through his armor, and it had almost killed him. To be honest, he wondered why it hadn't. It had been a foot from decapitating him when it clutched it's head, screeched in pain, and toppled over. He instructed his men to bind it.
Magister Francias Lokan had seen it all.
He had seen men turned to crazed machines by the Inquisition. He had seen the hives on Volcanis Ultor be turned to nuclear fire after Ghargatuloth rose. He had seen amazing and terrible things, but the creature before him took his breath away.
The Lictor stood almost nine feet tall at the shoulder, more than eleven with it's claws. It weighed exactly one hundred and six kilograms. It's pheramone levels were normal. It was, in all respects, a normal Lictor.
Except it wasn't trying to kill them all.
When Lokan had brought the creature in, he had thrown it into the holding pen, and released the clasps holding it together. It had simply stood up and paced. It's claws scraped designs into the ceiling where they toutched. Lokan touched the intercomm, wondering.
"Don't do that. Those ceiling panels are expensive."
The Lictor whipped around. Lokan looked on in amazement. The creature, which could have used him as a cleaning rag, looked up at the scratches, and lowered it's massive claws.
Lokan picked up the vox next to his personal one. It was black and had a small symbol on it.
=I=
"Hello?" said Lokan. "I think we found it."