Rotting Star

Thovar's first memories are of the grand marble halls buried under the surface of the planet Morbek, precise and angular just as any Forgefather would have them. His life their was good. The Forefathers had been using Morbek as a bridge to planets scouted long ago. These worlds held the prospect of a better life for these Ancient peoples. Their abundance of natural resources and temperate climate would allow more of the clans to flourish. The other Clans held the Mors in low regard, Their subterranean life had changed them. Where a Forefather's skin was a hearty bronze, a Mor's skin was pale and grey like stone. The physical, cultural and ideological differences with the addition of time caused relations to sour, and soon small differences widened into war and then a failed clan was subjugated and ultimately became prisoners on the Rotting Star.

a bead of sweat fell from Thovars nose, splashing on some exposed and thoroughly rusted piping. Thovar reflects on the glimmering halls of his youth. His life had gotten bleaker since then, every Mors life had. During his childhood the Mors had been forced from their home on Morbek by the full weight of the Star Empire. Images of Steel warriors and burning, exploding shuttles still pierced his thoughts. Prisoners of war sent to die on a Forgestar his people had been building before the star empire deemed his people no longer necessary. A Half finished Forge Star or as it was bitterly known among the Mor Clan, "The Rotting Star". A mobile space station used by the Forge Fathers to project authority and stability over their numerous business concerns. The stations themselves are self contained metropolis', filled with the kinds of industry made famous by the Forge Fathers. This hulking effigy to wasted ambitions however, hung a gaping open wound above Morbek. The abandonment of this Forgestar by the Forge Fathers was the first in a long line of the Star Empire's transgressions against his people. Long memories and a notorious ability to hold a grudge eventually brought the Mors mass imprisonment.

The Rotting Star's heaving Life-support system had been cobbled together in the last moments before their imprisonment by the Forge Fathers. The result was a wet, hot lightly oxygenated atmosphere. Desperate mechanics fought to keep the system from failing and bringing death to all of the survivors of Clan Mor. The unfinished corridors and living spaces had fallen to rust and ruin. A hiss of hot air from some unseen piping cut Thovar's thoughts short.

He had a mission, If his people were to build a new future he would need his focus. Thovar moved carefully through the jagged, claustrophobic and debris filled corridor, edging ever closer to his target. He had heard stories from the eldest among the Mors of a time when they had stocked the star with weapons and tools enough for a fully populated Forge star. The storage sections had collapsed, some lost to space and some buried. The excavators had worked tirelessly to open those lost treasure troves. Now their drills and lasers were silent, their machines had grown cold.

Thovar had brought only what he as Brokkr had earned. A finely crafted, multi-purpose hammer and his six chambered Burst Pistol. The minimalist utility harness hung loosely from his dripping ashen flesh. He cursed his short short sightedness at not bringing an echo-scanner. The darkness didn't bother the Mors but the chambers and passageways had a maze like design meant to impede intruders. Centuries of disrepair and collapsed sections meant that the map being projected from his Vid display was next to useless. He pushed the small device back into it's designated pocket.

A sudden crashing noise from behind caused him to pause and listen the Star grew still. A still moment was rare, so far into the heart of the Rotting Star. The next passage brought him within view of a mountain of crates mixed with bits of fallen pipe and rockcrete. These crates sadly were not his target. There was emergency food barrels and raw material bins. Largely undisturbed save a few crushed or otherwise buried bins. What a find this would make if under different circumstances! He felt his way through the door That- What was that? a Noise like scraping mixed with clicking. He stepped gingerly onward after anxious seconds, his pistol at the ready hammer over head.

A creaking noise came from below him. He paused again, this time the pause was cut short as the panelling beneath him shuddered and collapsed dragging him with it. Thovar and a shower of debris descended further into the darkness than any Mor had been in a lifetime. His fall was cut short as he landed not with a clang or thud but with a splash. A lose bit of rockcrete landed directly on his shoulder. The sharp pinning pain caused him to bay like a giant cave frog. The rockcrete debris had broken his shoulder that much he knew. After quieting the pain he hauled the debris off his shoulder with his remaining good arm.

His senses attuned to their new surroundings as he sat up. The pain dulled enough to regain his senses. He could see deteriorating debris and rust much like the rest of the Rotting Star's interior. The smell of rotten foodstuffs mixed with 'stone knows' what else was thick here. He doubled over and retched, nearly vomiting. He dragged himself to his knees. His hand fell on an object he was unfamiliar with laying in the decaying pool, half submerged. Lighter than metal and roughly cylindrical. He pulled it up from the rot. As the muck drained away he realized he held a bone, and dropped it without thinking. He refocused on the muck surrounding him. The haunting vision of skulls belonging to other unlucky Mors and small piles of gore drained away his nerve. Everywhere he looked, bits of creatures both known and other shockingly unknown were strewn about.

In the corner the buzz and stink of blot flies feasting on a half decayed, half eaten corpse. It was hard to tell what sort of beast it was but its last remaining eye bulged and squirmed. It wasn't a Forgefather it was no animal he knew, not that he knew many. He found at last what seemed an exit. A rusted through bulkhead leading to a maintenance shaft. He climbed as best as he was able to. His pistol hanging from his belt. He struggled his way to the top and hauled himself into a large chamber. With the pain begging him to stop he turned to his cold hatred to rally himself.

How could the Forgefathers curse his people so? Stuck in this broken place, far from the Marble halls... far from Morbek a harsh, but Utopian world when compared to the rotting star. The Forgefathers would answer for their crimes against his clan. The Mors would escape this place and start a new colony and their new might would bring ruin to those cowards. His surroundings now were different a large cavernous cargo hold stretched before him. Cloth, food and piles of scrap dotted large overturned chemical containers. Lights flickered in behind piles of rubble and far into the distance. A scraping, clicking sound started as a whisper and grew louder. No, Thought Thovar not louder, closer.

His head darted about desperately trying to catch a glimpse of whatever new horror this strange place would bring. He wished desperately to be away from this place. He would not turn and run however he was not a coward. As a Forgefather would do thought Thovar, the thought brought a grin to Thovar's face.

A shadow lunged out from behind a nearby rubble pile it's teeth finding hold on Thovar's forearm. A smallish gaunt creature back-pedalled and squared up against him. The creature looked like a mammal, covered in patchy fur and scars. Its sharp jagged teeth had a thin coat of Thovar's blood. This creature would not stop him. Nothing would stop him. Claws outstretched in a menacing fashion, the creature sized up the pale intruder. A tail Thovar realized, darted quickly behind the wretch. Thovar rose his hammer and readied for the beasts attack. The starving monster tensed ready to lunge. Trying it's luck the wretch aimed for Thovar's neck and was quickly batted away. The creature coughed up blood and bile after suffering a brutal blow. This time Thovar charged trying to catch the creature unprepared.

The creature was fast enough to narrowly avoid his thunderous blow. The beast took it's chance and lunged again for Thovar's throat. Thovar fell back clumsy defending himself and losing his grip on his hammer. The dire creature sunk it's teeth into Thovar as they both tumbled to the ground. Thovar launched the creature tumbling into a pile of half eaten gore with his short but powerful legs. He searched desperately for his weapon, or any weapon. Soaked in rot and blood the ruinous beast stalked forward and screeched. Thovar caught the creature mid stride in the neck with the full force of his newly recovered hammer. The creature collapsed twitching and crying out. desperation and dispair filled the broken creature. The beasts eyes locked with his.

"Monster... this is my... home" the creature screeched through gurgling half whispers, each sound straining against his half crushed vocal cords.

he looked frail now, not the monster he seemed, just a desperate thing, surviving in spite of the rotting star. Thovar was taken aback by the creatures words, not there content but their form. The frail thing spoke his language.
"How.. How do you speak my language?" Thovar questioned.

"W-"

and with that last sound the creature was still.A strange encounter indeed. Thovar didn't mourn the poor beast it hadn't earned his respect, just his pity. All was still. A rare thing... Thovar wished the stillness would last. He sighed and hauled himself to his feet once more. he rummaged through the creatures makeshift and hovel found relatively clean bandages and enough material to make a splint. Once he was bandaged he decided that lingering here accomplished nothing. After much pain and struggle Thovar managed to find the chamber he had sought. One Chamber beyond the section that gave way. Grime and blood covered his chalky skin, He looked as he felt; defeated. An ornate door stood out from it's rusted and decayed surroundings. A gold rimmed door with gems inlaid into the marble surface. An inscription read "A gift from the forge"

He tentatively touched the stone unsure if it was indeed real. It's cold touch shocked him, he hadn't felt real stone in so long. He hesitated. Thovar looked down the decrepit corridor behind him. He turned back, opened the door and was met with a marble room. As he entered small lights emitted a faint glow and the Door shut behind him. The room gradually lightened showing Thovar the prize he had suffered for.

An ancient console sat in-front of a large and incredibly complex device, the Slip drive. Installed on the rotting star as a prototype, the drive was reaching the end of safety testing before the design could be integrated into the Star Empires far reaches and sold to third parties for a mighty sum.

He unhooked a standard quantum locater beacon from his belt and activated it. He placed it on the console before slumping down against the console. The Drillers would make there way down and scores of his clan would pour over the device. They would treat him as a hero, The Great Thovar. The Stillness combined with completing his goal left Thovar swimming in dwarven endorphins.

Thovar turned towards Morbek, even in these depths he knew where it hung, he could almost feel it's frigid air and cool stone. He sighed and felt his ancestors smile, Thovar smiled and chuckled. The Great Thovar. A strange splatting sound hit the door. As Thovar stood up, a burning glob of chemicals burst and burned its way through the door. The glob splashed Thovar's leg. He watched in horror as his flesh melted exposing bone that hissed and sizzled. Thovar could smell Acid and Burnt Rotten meat. His eyes rolled back and he fought the darkness as he watched probing claws and powerful drills weakened the walls with every passing second. Thovar slummed down. He was trapped and badly injured, but he was a Mor. Nothing would stop him, nothing. Thovar held his burst pistol as best as he could with his crushed shoulder and rested awkwardly on one of his knees. Thovar dragged his hammer from the ground and raised it above his head. Thovar grinned and he felt his ancestors grin.

If you made it this far thanks for taking the time, I hope you enjoyed it!

Constructive C&C welcomed, this is my first attempt at something like this, since high school. I have a few more idea's for Thovar but I've only fleshed out this one.