Tail-spinning Tomb Blade Pilot
In a chair, staring at a screen
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Hi guys. A lot of people said I needed to improve my writing and start with humans, so this story is based on one of the historic timetables things in a codex, which vaguely involve the necrons.
BLURB:
Explorator fleet 913 strays into territory controlled by the tomb world of Gheden and is destroyed by the fleet of Nemesor Azderon. When the battle is done, wreckage is set adrift in the projected trajectory of Alaitoc Craftworld. By the time three companies of Ultramarines come in search of the Exploratory fleet, Azderon has long withdrawn, but the presence of Alaitoc's pathfinder vessels draw the space marines into conflict with the Eldar.
PROLOGUE:
Commander Sebastian Trent sat in his office, which had a metal desk, a secure terminal and plain concrete walls. He didn't have any decoration whatsoever; this was all he needed. He was on one of the most expensive vessels the Ultramarines had: The Malevolence. 79 billion pounds of bleeding edge weapon systems, metal and fighter-bombers. There was a soft bleep that echoed inside the small office. "Enter," Trent said. The tall figure that strides into the door was Maximilian Nero, one of Trent's most trusted Lieutenants. " I have reviewed the reports on the search mission of Explorator fleet 913" Nero said. "It doesn't look good." Nero could've swore he saw a look of disappointment on his commanders face, but a split second later it was replaced by his usual, concerned expression. "Indeed," replied Trent, " this is an... inconvenience." Nero was dreading what the punishment was for his lack of practiced efficiency; fleet 913 was his responsibility. "I'm afraid this can not be tolerated, sergeant Nero.'" Trent said with a cold edge in his voice. "But you have one chance to redeem yourself,"
"What am I to do, sir?" Nero replied in a scared whisper." I'm giving you a small task force who's job will be to annihilate the Eldar, all resistance is to die. It's war with the Eldar." Trent ushered Nero out of his office before he had chance to even say a word.
CHAPTER ONE:
"Hello, Mr. Nero, welcome to the Leviathan, my name is Colonel James Francisco." Francisco was a big man, the amount of muscle on him was unbelievable, to be honest he looked like a Hive Tyrant. He gestured at the two smaller men beside him. "This is Professor William Pike and Sergeant Darius Ashton." He continued. All of the men began chalking one another's hands. The vessel behind him was The Leviathan, worth 47 billion pounds and weighing 3,000,000 tonnes. From Nero's reports, he also knew this was one of the newest flagships built by the cream of the chapters Tech marines. Another unique thing about the ship is that it uses a new generation of artificial intelligences, able to give answers that weren't programmed by humans. The AI was called Overlord. "Your quarters is on accommodation block 4, room 3. Your office is located at administration block 1, room 1. All information is provided on your PDA." This broke Nero out of his trance. "Good, Colonel. Please report to the command bridge. I want to brief the men on what we're doing."
CHAPTER TWO:
Overlords red wireframe head appeared on all portable devices and monitors slaved to the Leviathan. "Attention, Leviathan personnel, this is a level one security announcement. All tactical units are to report to briefing room one for... confidential tactical planning." Overlord repeated this several times until the head count on all of the tactical units was counted and the reports were positive.
In briefing room one...
"I believe everyone is here," said Nero. "We are here to discuss tactical planning, as you know. We are going to launch an assault on the Alaitoc Craftworld." There were a few gasps of amazement from most of the forty or so men inside the room. "Silence!" Yelled Nero. "You sound like my flipping children, for gods sake," the crowd stopped chattering at each other. They all new that people who disobeyed Nero had an unfortunate tendency to end up dead. "So we will first attack the mining town of Segmantar. The sub-force who will attack there will be legions eleven and three..."
CHAPTER THREE:
The second flagship in the fleet was called The Dreadnaught, worth 24 billion pounds, set a course for Segmantar. Recent reports from sat.tech on board Dreadnaught shown multiple wraith knights and the occasional jet-bike. They were expecting light resistance. The Shroud prototypes Professor Pike designed had been deployed 4 minutes ago. The reason the shroud was a jewel compared to other fighter designs was that it had thermoptic camouflage technology, which renders the shroud invisible to the naked eye and all hostile radar tech. The eldar troops were caught completely by surprise, the heat seeking missiles fired from the first shroud seemed to appear from nowhere. "Mann the heavy weapons, NOW!!!" Screeched the Eldar commander. But it was to late. 30 minutes later the base was under Ultramarine control, the base no more than a pile of ash.
CHAPTER FOUR:
"I beleive your tactical plan didn't have a flaw at all, Commander Nero." Said Trent. "I beleive that's one way to put it, sir," replied Nero. Trent was visible on the small terminal inside Nero's cramped office. "Commander Nero, I believe one of my satellites has reported grave news," Trent said. His voice bared the scared but giddy tones, like what a child behaves like at school when the fire alarm sets of or something. "What is it, sir?" Nero asked cautiously. "A tyranid splinter fleet has been sighted on the eastern parameter of Alaitoc."
Somewhere on Gheden...
"Sarge," the skinny man whispered. "Sarge!" the man didn't dare shout, he heard stomping feet on gravel and the barely audible sound of robotic voices, indicating the arrival of a necron patrol. The leader of the squad grunted and sat up. He to, was skinny, as he had had no food since the day his assigned ship had been shot down by mysterious lightning bolts. He used to be a bear of a man, but now his legs were like pins, his skin vacuumed into his body like it shouldn't be there. There was just four of them now, the other eight escapee's shot down by heavy gauss fire. "Sarge, we need to wake the others and hide before it's to late," whispered the skinny man, who's nickname was Dawg. "Agreed," replied the man. They only had basic flak armour, 2 Lappistols and a bolt gun to defend themselves. "Wake Miller and Brother up," continued the Sarge. Just then Dawg turned round to see his living nightmare...
The four men had made as much kills as they could, trying to keep their last shreds of dignity as they were frogmarched into the massive hall made of some ebony black material, their hands cuffed in painfully in front of them. "Welcome, gentlemen, to Gheden. Your accommodation will be... satisfactory, I believe." The voice was clearly owned by Overlord Azderon, ruler of Gheden. The Lychguard armed with hyper phase swords and dispersion shields behind half shoved, half dragged the men to a cramped holding cell, which mainly consisted of crusty brown blood that Dawg would rather not guess the origins of.
CHAPTER FIVE:
Nero was in the briefing room with several other tactical advisors, co-ordinating the plan to deploy more troops on Alaitoc before the splinter fleet turned the work into biomass to fuel their ancient flagship. Nero would like to get his hands on a tyranid ship, Trent would have been pleased. There was a rather nervous atmosphere in the room- there were enough tyranids to be dealt with already." I want a visual on that canyon now!" Yelled Nero from across the room. "S-s-s sir," a terrified voice that belonged to a tactical advisor on the other side of the table stammered. "Come look at this."
On Gheden...
"Crap! Crap! CRAAAAAAP!" The Sargeant of the imprisoned space marines from fleet 913 yelled, banging his bony fists into the hardened metal door. Dawg, Miller and Brother were getting fed up of the Sarges angry rant. At least they were getting food, thought Miler. "Jeez, Sarge, your gonna send the Lychguard in here and they'll be sure to dispense their much-wanted baton justice on us this time." Brother said. At that moment Sarge turned to face at Brother, his expression murderous. If looks could kill, Brother would be a pile of ash all over the floor right now. Then he dilivered a weak but well aimed backhand blow to Brothers forehead. "Hey, stop this now!" Miller shouted, not sure if Sarge
would turn on him. Just then three Lychguard came in, obviously not impressed by the fact that they were holding their hyperphase swords at the ready. They looked like psychopathic lunatics made of metal. They probably were. "Prisoners Keith Maxwell and Douglas Brand are to be escorted to the throne room.
CHAPTER SIX:
Nero was having a good time in his private dining area, wearing a high quality officers uniform and nibbling on his chocolate pudding. He rarely has desserts; stodgy food leads to a stodgy mind. A bleep from the radio on the desk indicated that an incoming transmission had arrived. He pressed the button on the radio. "Yes?" Nero said warily. "Sir, I'm afraid that recent biometric signatures and state of the ship fleet 913 was on predict that all of the men on board have suffered from unbearable heat and-"
"Just get on with it," Nero snapped impatiently. "Fleet 913 doesn't exist anymore." Nero's first thought was that Francisco would be pissed. His second thought epwas that Trent would be even more pissed.
CHAPTER SEVEN:
To be continued...
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