Technically it was a Space Hulk; an omen of woe and despair to those who ploughed the seas of night. Slipping between the real and the unreal like some sort of colossal spectre. It had once been the ship named Claw of Mars. It had once been an Omnissiah class ship, a vessel of magnificence with a history of glory and fire. It had once been the flagship of a fleet of the Cult Mechanicus. And to seven and a half thousand people it was now home.

Where the people who now inhabited the now misshapen Hulk had originated was a mystery even to themselves, to most of the Imperium they are just a tribe of humanity that they occasionally sold food to or hired as mercenaries. To some they were considered saviours and to many they were heretics of the highest order.

The currents were shifting again. Simon could feel them. The warp was about them and he could hear the change in its song. Blessed be the currents of the warp. Last time they had been blown of course they had appeared on the edge of the Cadia system less than a week before another chaos incursion. It had been glorious. The big men in the thick black armour had been fun to play with and their weapons hung from the walls as trophies.

Simon was of average build for the Warpdrifters, as they were called, standing at about five foot six and being sturdy in stature. He had hair that was a sort of light brownish gingery colour, turquoise eyes, pale skin with a very slight hint of blue, was reckoned by ground-worlders as looking about twenty and was currently wearing a pair of dungarees a necklace of ork teeth and a very fresh scar running from the left side of his forehead to the right side of his chin. It was being held shut with thin nylon wire. The scar had been given to him by the previous owner of a couple of those teeth. His tattoos were the curly triangular green designs of House Serpent. The cave like corridors were filled with the humming expectation and hope of more glory as other Warpdrifters felt the change in the currents. Simon made his way along the cave-like corridors and passageways up to the Great Hall in the centre of the ship.

The Great Hall was aptly named. The banner of the thirteen great houses hung from it's ceiling and in its centre was a raised dais that the High Chief used to make announcements. The High Chief was standing there now his long grey beard tied into strings with pieces of polished glass and other small shiny objects tied to the ends. He was possibly the oldest member of the Warpdrifters being over one hundred as reckoned by ground-worlders. That was old. His blue spirally tattoos declared him to belong to House Albatross, famed for the fortune it brought those who followed them. Though he leant on a long wooden staff for support and had to use a microphone to be heard his predatory yellow eyes had lost none of their sharpness.

Around the edges of the crowd could be seen members of the Eldar delegation from craftworld Yme-Lock. They were nice enough in a distant way once you got to know them, if a bit stiff and rigid. Was it them who had caused the shift in direction? Wouldn't be the first time the Eldar had bought their services. Not to long ago some bigwig farseer from Ulthewe had sent them on a mission to a crone world to rescue some Eldar, decedents of the Eldar who lived there before The Fall. That had been fun, Simon remembered fondly. He had just been declared probably old enough to be a man and that had been his first mission. They had rescued more than four thousand Eldar and had taken them straight to Beil-Tan. Much glory was won that day and the party that had been thrown on their arrival was superb. Say what you will but the Eldar could show real honour to those who earn it. Unlike the wretched Imperium. Was that where they were going again? Wonder what the festivities on Yme-Lock would be like? It would no doubt involve wine of some sort. They seemed the sort that would drink wine. Not that there was anything wrong with wine in and of itself but in Simons opinion it was probably only grown on planets that hadn't heard of Cider.

'No doubt you have all felt the shifting of direction. Well here is the reason why; these fine folk, come on give us a wave,' Surprisingly it did get a half hearted hesitant wave 'have asked if we would go smash up a Tomb-World. Anyone here gone Necron Bashing before?'

Simon saw a great many hand raise, usually from people with lots of scars and occasionally discoloured vat-grown replacement limbs.

"Now I am asking for volunteers and I will be disappointed if I see a hand go down." Not a single appendage descended and many more rose. It did not do to disappoint the High Chief. "You make an old chief proud. No leader anywhere could ask for a more honourable and reliable people to lead. I just wish I was going with you, but the doctors keep telling me I am getting a bit old." This got a slight chuckle from the audience. "I will not keep you, I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to an old man. We fall to the Real in about two days, so get ready." And High Chief stepped down from the stand, with the aid of two of his daughters. Age was weighing heavily on his shoulders now, Simon could remember him when he walked unaided and it seemed like only a moment ago. But no time for dawdling and depressing thoughts, in two days they would be hunting metal things and glory would not find him wanting.

Just as everyone was milling around the Great Hall and beginning to leave Simon caught sight of someone who he recognised. 'All right, Beefy!'

The human identified as 'Beefy' turned round. This took some time. You don't get a name like beefy for being a weed. In appearance Beefy was tall for a warp-drifter standing at just over six foot and looked like he had some Ogyrn in his lineage. He had been on that mission to the Deamon World and had, in full view of everyone, ripped a Khrone Champions head clean off, that earned him a reputation for not being someone you would want to mess about. Currently he was wearing overalls with patches on the knees, and hair and beard clipped short all around. His parents had seen fit to give him the name Timenty Uksfod Vost.

'All right, axe face! Where the hell have you been hiding?'

'Say what?'

'Me and Lisity have been looking for you for days.'

'I just went for a stroll down the other end of the hulk, just to see how things are doing, you know.'

'Lisity really missed you, you know.' Said Timenty with a big broad grin. 'I think she was wanting you to invite her over to where ever your little hideaway is.' the grin acutely got a little broader if that was possible.

'Will you knock that off. I know for a fact that she is not sweet for me because Derek is courting her and that's the end of it.'

'Ha Ha Ha!' Beefy was one of those people with the big laughter, the sort that rattles rafters and has the carrying power of an Armoggedon Class Cruiser. 'That's why I've been trying to look for you! She found him getting more than friendly with one of the Geller Field polishers and kneed him in the bollocks. It was so funny that it brought tears to my eyes. And it definitely brought tears to his.

'That is the best news I have had all day. So good in fact that I think I we should celebrate it with a bloody huge drink. To The Smiling Slann!'

'No, axe head. You need to go smarten up and ask Lisity out to a posh meal and Warp alone knows where you are going to get flowers from.'

'That's all you know. Thankfully some of us use our heads for thinking and I have some stored in a stasis box.'

If the grin had been any bigger the top of his head would have fallen off. 'I knew it! I knew you had a thing for her! Old Jimbob owes me a new set of knuckle-dusters. Been planning this for a while then I see. So much for "she's just a friend".'

'Oh come on. No one believed that heap of bullshit. As if I was just going to think of her as "just a friend" when she is so damn beautiful. Speaking of which, do you have any idea where she is, exactly?'