Hi Guys,
This is the second installment of the Dark Heresy series, “Oh What Terror’s await”. We join our group of acolytes, finally establishing a connection with their leader…halfway across a star system. Once again, I appreciate any feedback or thoughts you have, let me know what you think.
Cheers,
Jevan Thompson
ROTH
It was an hour before Severen linked with the Inquisitor.
Roth watched him across the hold of the Aquilla, mesmerised by the unwavering concentration that the psyker displayed. To the casual eye, it appeared that his was simply gazing off into the vastness of space. His posture was so relaxed, with his head resting on the plasti-glass comfortably. It would be easy to think he was trying to lull himself into the waiting arms of slumber.
But, if you looked harder, more closely, you could pick out the telltale signs of strain and exertion. The veins in his throat tensed, small droplets of hard earned sweat flowing slowly down his neck, the beads hanging onto the raises in his flesh briefly before giving into the inevitable pull of gravity. His jaw was set firm, as if lined with steel. His forehead trembled, ever so slightly with the force of his focus, gentle wrinkles forming and vanishing in a soft irregular rhythm.
Roth had been watching him for most of that hour, although there were many tasks that nagged at him from the back of his mind. Volkrad had retired to his quarters, taking the opportunity to wash himself and sort out his equipment for the next mission. Fink was sitting at the map table, his incredible bulk barely keeping him on one of the small metal chairs. He was scribbling on a piece of parchment, a look of curiosity on his misshapen face.
Roth did not ask what he was writing. He did not care. It was most likely drivel, either incomprehensible nonsense or some bizarre ramblings from his child-like brain. No matter which it was, Roth would not waste his time on the Ogryn. He found the study of the Astropath far more interesting, feeling like a spectator in the audience of a dramatic play, or a patron to an subtle opera within Severen’s mind
Although he could not imagine what the psyker was doing, navigating the vast, terrifying void of the warp with only his mind to protect him from the horrors that lay within, he tried anyway. His dedication to the unseen journey reached such heights, that when the eyeless man tensed, or winced, Roth felt his own body react in response.
It fascinated him.
How one man could hold such a link to such a terrible power, channeling the furious, dark energies of the warp and forcing it to work under his commands. He had heard rumours of what psykers could do, but he had never seen it with his own eyes. Stories of witches boring into a man’s mind, knowing all his secrets and desires with just a frowning of their eyebrows. Tales of them casting their arms wide, flames erupting from their hands, turning a dozen regular men to ash in mere moments. He had even heard rumours of one who could create a bolt of lightning with a click of his fingers.
Incredible.
He found himself taking notes on the pysker’s struggle, scribbling down every minute movement of his body or lack of it for that matter. It was rare for Roth, he did not usually feel the compulsion to take such notes. Studying other people’s notes however, that was what he was born to do. Even from an early age, unraveling the mysteries of parchment and penmanship captivated him, each successfully completed project merely enticed him to start another.
But this time, he felt he had to document exactly what was happening lest he forget the wonders that lay before him.
“This is Astropath Severen D’antario, honoured servant to our Lord Emperor of Mankind and an acolyte of his majesties holy inquisition under inquisitor Faycal Lötter.” Severen spoke, seemingly to no one.
The stale air of the Aquilla suddenly grew cold, as if the whole ship had plunged into ice. Small patches of frost began to coat the metal and plasti-glass surrounding him, the fingers of cold delicately stretching out on the surfaces. The dim light in the room began to flicker, ebbing to almost nothing, then roaring into maximum power, flooding them all in a bright white light.
Roth’s hairs stood on end.
It was one thing hearing stories about psykers, but quite another to see it in person. Although Severen was not covered in a second skin of raging fire or hurling bolts of lightning from his fingertips, it still took the breath from Roth’s lungs to see the effects of the warp with his own two eyes.
Roth sat upright with a jolt, putting down his quill and rolling his neck, trying to ease the strain of his writer’s pose. Fink looked up from his playful scribbling, a curious look plastered onto his face. Roth touched his dataslate, sending an alert over to Volkrad’s room, then he leaned in to listen to as much of the conversation as he could.
Even though it was to be a one sided conversation, he was sure it would be marvelous.
****************************************************************************************************
SEVEREN
How can I describe reaching for a single mind across the vast twisted horrors of the immaterium?
Imagine, you are a flake of snow, amidst a blizzard. The wind howls and tears, buffeting you fiercely through the gale, but remember, you are a single snowflake in a storm of millions. You try to steer yourself through the nightmare of the elements, but you depend on the wind almost as much as you depend on yourself.
Now picture, having to land on another flake, but that flake is also being thrown around by the storm. You have to read the wind, feeling where the other snowflake may go, whilst maintaining your own chaotic course through the turmoil. All the while avoiding the countless other pieces of microscopic snow and the trees and the ground….
Oh never mind…it’s useless.
Only one who has touched the warp can understand the anarchy of how it works. It is not governed by any normal rules of the material universe, hense the name “Immaterium.”. It would be like trying to describe the colour of a fierce, swirling river to a blind man. Like trying to describe a bird’s beautiful song to the deaf.
Like I said…useless.
But indescribably, through the vast canyon of souls and hellish energies, I found another Astropath in service to the Emperor. I had sailed the blizzard and I had found another.
“Severen…Well met brother. I am Archillium. I am linking with inquisitor Lötter as we speak.”
The voice blossomed into my mind, as quiet as a whisper, but as loud as a thunderstorm. Like a entire battalion of guardsmen marching, but making no sound. Communication in the warp was just as contradictory as everything else in the warp. If you tried to understand it, or analyse it, madness would take over your mind…or maybe something far, far worse.
I waited for what seemed like an eternity, but also only a fraction of a second, when Archillium’s voice spoke again.
“Severen!” He snarled. “What in the Emperor’s name are you doing?!”
Even though it was the astropath’s voice I could hear, I knew it was the inquisitor’s tongue uttering the words.
“Inquisitor, we seek guidance-” I began to say, but Archillium bellowed with rage, silencing me instantly. I know better than to test the patience of an angered inquisitor.
“I couldn’t give one fragging thought as to what you seek! I instructed you to find the other heretics in services to that traitorous hag of an inquisitor! And yet I learn that you are investigating another matter entirely! There is nothing more important!” Archillium shouted, I could practically hear the venom dripping from his words.
I was speechless.
Confusion and annoyance bubbled up to the front of my thoughts, but I pushed them away quickly, lest my emotions weaken my mind. The last instruction we had received from Lötter was through a rogue trader, an explorer in service to the Emperor. The man had relayed the inquisitor’s instruction clearly. Find the Xenos artifact on the space station. Nothing else matters.
I took the mental equivalent of a deep breath and jumped back in.
“Inquisitor, forgive my impertinence, but the last instruction we were given from you was to find a Xenos artefact hidden on-”
The Inquisitor’s furious anger interrupted me yet again, making me wince in frustration.
“I did no such fragging thing! I told you all, as clear as fragging day, find the other heretics! Finding them is the only thing that’s going to save you from execution at the hands of the inquisition! You killed an inquisitor for Emperor’s sake! Traitor or not, that is a very serious matter indeed. You. Need. Proof. Proof that she was a traitor. Proof that she turned to the filthy powers of the warp!”
There was another pause as Archillium stopped to catch his breath.
“We did not receive that order sire.” I said, my teeth gritting in annoyance. I was trying desperately to control my emotions, but they were starting to get the better of me.
“You didn’t receive the- Are you fragging insane! I gave it you over a video link! It could not have been clearer!” Archillium bellowed again.
I had no idea what he was talking about. I desperately searched my brain, in a vain attempt to find any trace of the order Lötter had given, but as expected, there was no memory of any such order. I needed to check with the others…maybe they had been told something I had not.
Summoning all of my focus and concentration, I split my mind in two.
One half maintaining my telepathic link to Archillium, the other returning to my body.
When I say split, tear would be a more accurate description.
****************************************************************************************************
ROTH
Severen suddenly took in a huge breath of air, his lungs hissing and rasping in pain. Roth flinched at the sudden activity from the psyker. For the past few minutes, he had been in a deep trance like state, his only movements was a slight wince, curling his fingers into a tight fist. He had mumbled a few sentences, but they were barely audible, even in the quiet confines of the ship.
It reminded Roth of a diver coming up for air.
In a fraction of a second, the Astropath had gone from appearing dead, to suddenly bursting with life. The action of the psyker, coupled with the flickering lights and the icy temperature made him involuntarily make the sign of the Imperial Eagle on his chest. His thumb and forefinger curling into a circle, whilst his three fingers stretched out wide, forming a primitive wing of a bird.
“Did…did Lötter tell us to find the other heretics?” Serveren grunted, barely contained pain leaking into his voice, making it crack and croak harshly. Sweat beaded on Severen’s face, making him shine grimly in the flickering light of the map room.
“No…he told us no such thing.” Roth managed to utter, still mesmerised by the Astropath.
“Nope.” Fink said. “Ee’ told us ta find tha fing on the spacepo…spacepo…”
“Spaceport.” Roth corrected.“Yeah. Dat fing.” Fink smiled happily at his discovery of a new word.
Severen nodded, still grimacing in obvious pain. With another deep breath, he returned to his trance. Just like that, in a fraction of a second, he was back to looking like a corpse.
Volkrad’s footsteps rang out on the metal floor, echoing into the room like they were proudly announcing his arrival. He appeared in the doorway shortly after, dressed in only trousers and a thick cloth around his neck. Water clung to his hair and bare chest, the droplets catching on the ridges of his toned muscles.
Although his clothes hid it well, his was in exceptionally good physical shape.
“Has he done it? Has he made contact? What did I miss?” He asked, lowering himself into a chair near the corridor he had just come from, drying himself with his cloth while he spoke.
“He has made contact.” Roth said.
Teller of Some Tales 