It is the 41st millennium. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim darkness of the far future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.
Astropath Helmvus was worried. The Gellar field had flickered right before they entered the warp, and all on board knew what would happen if the fields flickered for even a second while in the warp
Daemons.
Daemons would enter the ship and tear apart the crew. Bursting through the walls and devouring their minds and body's, even as they drove the men mad with their presence.
The astropath calmed himself with knowledge that there were astartes aboard. Sighing, the warptouched slumped in his seat and rubbed his third eye
Astartes. Demigods. Angles of death. The sword of the emperor. His will made manifest. These as well as a hundred other names were justly deserved.
Clunk...clunk…clunk….clunk
Helmvus sat bolt upright, as if he had been hit with a grox-prod. Staring straight into the warp he checked the astronomican, confirming that they were in the ultima segmentum, deep in the halo stars. A massive armored hand rested on the headrest of the navigators throne.
"Pray tell Helmvus, where are we?" asked a deep baritone voice.
The navigator gulped. "M-my lord captain Severus, w-we are d-d-deep in the halo s-stars my lord."
Severus frowned. The astartes had a handsome chiseled visage, accentuated by his bristly mustache and scraggly brown beard combination, along with deep green eyes and a thickly corded neck.
The only oddity about him was his pale skin. His skin had tanned somewhat but one would still notice that it was not his natural coloration.
His armor was immaculate, its light green not marred by a spot of oil nor mud.
The astartes had frowned, thought Helmvus with mounting terror, Helmvus went wobbly kneed. 'Oh, god-emperor!' he thought.
The marine looked at him. "Helmvus, for emperors sake, stop shaking!"
Helmvus stared up at the astartes for a long moment, terror in his eyes.
Blood leaked from the astropath's mouth. He screamed.
Leaping out of his chair the astropath rolled on the floor, bawling until two armsmen restrained him.
Severus picked up the man by the hood and inquired, "what in the warp is it Helmvus?"
Helmvus stared, after a long moment he murmured a faraway look in his eyes
"I cannot sense the astronomican."
In the black of space an elegant ship seemingly materialized. A circular mainframe sat atop a swanlike neck, which was in turn connected with a crossbar, and two drive nacelles.
Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS enterprise stared out at the black of space from his command chair.
The Enterprise had been following a strange anomaly that had somehow appeared in the DMZ orbiting the nondescript planet of burkuss VIII in federation territory
"Sir, we are approaching the anomaly." Asked the voice of lieutenant data. The androids yellow eyes remained fixed upon the screen
"Noted lieutenant." Said Picard, his face and voice betraying nothing.
Several moments passed.
Data spoke up again "sir, should we disengage our warp engines?"
"Make it so."
Picard stared intently as starlines receded into pinpricks of light, determined to find out what had enough power to spike the records of thirty-two anomaly observations centers and hade the general mass of twenty times the size of the Enterprise. Questions whirled through Picard's mind. How could something like that appear with no prior warning? How could it have such massive energy outputs? Why was it here?
As the Enterprise drew closer with the behemoth it became apparent that it was at least 5 kilometers long.
Picard stared intently at the looming speck. What was it? He thought.
"Sir?" came the voice of commander William Riker, Picard's second in command.
"Yes, number one?"
Riker responded accordingly "Sir, we could magnetize the image for a better view."
"Make it so."
The image swelled to fill the viewport.
Gasps resounded around the deck; Riker sprang to his feet, Picard's eyes widened.
It was a warship.
A warship at least a dozen times the size of a dominion battleship.
What's more is that whatever species created the ship was not afraid of death, skulls emblazoned on gold and adamantium adorned the surfaces of the ship.
And it lay dead in space.
Its running lights however were on. But the most unnerving thing about he ship was not the ship its self, but the Borg sphere docked at one side.
Laertes opened his eyes, the warp current that had somehow propelled them into a warp storm which in turn had expelled them from the emperors light had done some unpleasant things with his mind.
The Astartes groaned and stood up, shaking off any weariness that had not abated when he opened his eyes. Checking his HUD he realized with a jolt that he had been out for five days.
Always combat ready he reached for his bolter, it felt reassuring to have the massive death-dealing rectangle in his power-armored hands again.
Striding down corridors the marine noticed that his navy counterparts were still out cold, he allowed himself a moment of pride in the enhanced biology of an astartes. The fact that he had been effectively slacking off sobered him up in record time.
As Laertes reached the bridge he stopped before the image of the emperor on a massive tapestry that hung above the blast doors, and bowed his head in prayer
Laertes arrived on the bridge-cum chapel to find everyone unconscious.
Save one.
"Brother sergeant, Severus."
His superior looked at him, and cracked a wan smile. "Brother laertes."
"What of the ship?" asked laertes, the ever-tactful
Severus scratched his chin and looked up at the high domed arches, gargoyles and tattered battle-banners adorning the roof, before replying
"Shields are online, though propulsion and weapons are offline"
the screen suddenly flickered. "We are being hailed, hopefully its an imperial ship, mayhap a rouge trader." Said the captain, remarkably unperturbed by the sudden turn of events.
On the screen a servitor like drone appeared with implants scattered seemingly at random throughout its body. Two others stood behind it their pallid flesh covered in sweat and mottled dark areas, their bald heads jammed full of mechanical implants.
Laertes felt his lip curl in disgust. What way was this to treat the machine , by ramming it into the body with no purpose?
The thing opened it mouth and proceeded to desecrate the gothic tongue with its foul presence
"we are the Borg. You will lower your shields and surrender your ship. you will be assimilated into the collective. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."