Date Published: 30/09/2013
Date Re-Edited: N/A
Warhammer and Mass Effect, are the sole properties of Games Workshop/THQ and Bioware/EA Games respectively. This is a work of Fiction, as well as non-profit, and thereby complies with their 'Term and Conditions' stipulated by the Companies themselves. The only thing I seek to gain with this Literary Work; is to improve my Creative Writing abilities, and if in the process someone were to enjoy what I have written…
So be it.
Writing Styles
"Talking Normally"
Thinking/Projecting Thoughts
=Radio Transmissions/Synthesised Voices=
+=Computer Text/Coding/Written Text=+
Warhammer Date/Time Keeping
+=[Mark: +/- The Time since or before the Mission Started]=+
+=[Seconds:Minutes:Hours]=+
+=[Days (1 to 365):Years(1 to 999):Millennium (M3=2000/M31=30000)]=+
Chapter 2
- Arrival -
+=Warp=+
+=?=+
+=Classified=+
+=?=+
+=[?.?.M?]=+
+=[?.?.?]=+
+=[mark: + 04.00.00]=+
Perception.
Connection.
Threat.
The first step, overwhelming mental pressure.
+=[Chronograph: Failure]=+
The second step, overwhelming spiritual vastness.
+=[Locator: Failure]= +
The third step, he sensed… nothing.
+=[Auspex: Failure]= +
The burning man, comes to a halt.
+=[Command-net: Signal Lost]= +
He turned to face those that follow.
+=[Squad-net: Signal Lost]= +
His eyes pass each and every living soul.
+=[Error: Critical System Failure]= +
As he turns to his squad, he sees the light in their crimson lenses die.
He sees through their chest-plates, their hearts still beat.
He gazes into their minds, they are still their own.
He reaches out to pluck their life lines.
Their souls still rung true.
He cast his witch-sight back, along the tunnel.
Back past immaterial league after immaterial league.
Far back into the chamber, back toward that golden throne.
As his spectral form crossed the threshold, he was blinded.
Before him there were two suns, they burned so bright.
The larger seemed to burn through the smaller one.
He couldn't bring his gaze upon the brightest sun.
He couldn't even touch the largest of the suns.
So he reached out toward the smaller sun.
Malcador stood waiting at the base of the golden pyramid. He was becoming anxious. Sigmund's Squad had been gone for hours, they lost contact the moment they had crossed the threshold.
Should I send someone els-
Something crossed the rippling barrier of energy, he opened his third-eye, and shifted his gaze into his warp-sight. Before him stood a large Azure spectral dragon, its tail trailing back into the Webway. The ethereal creature raised its right forepaw, and – before the Sigillite could raise his defences – the immensely powerful creature touched his forehead with its claw.
My Lord, echoed perhaps one of the most powerful minds he had ever come in contact with, we have secured the other side of the portal. Armour systems are down and we have lost Vox-communication.
Realisation dawned within the Sigillite, Sigmund?
Affirmative, rumbled the spectral dragon emotionlessly within the confines of his mind.
Malcador was stunned; most Warp Constructs were creatures of pure emotion, but this… machine. It was made of pure willpower. He turned to the Gate, and signalled Captain Braxton's Squad.
"I have made contact with Sergeant Sigmund; the threshold of the Webway is secure. You may proceed."
Captain Braxton signalled to his Command Squad to advance forward, the Ancient Domitian and Sergeant Braellen were the first to cross the barrier…
Sigmunds thoughts turned back to his Squad, I have made contact with the Sigillite. They are sending the Command Squad through.
He felt a feeling of disgust flare within the mind of Brother Julius at his mental touch. He sent a sense of apathy back down the mental link, turning that strained feeling of disgust into the smouldering… burn of Anger. Dismissing the fuming Julius and his impotent anger, to the back of his mind, his focus turning back toward the entrance of the Webway. With the Sigillite as his mental anchor, he was no longer cast about upon the temporal maelstrom that is the Warp. With clarity, he began to reach out toward the Command Squad with his mind. He reached out and touch the minds of the first Marines to cross the threshold barrier. He felt the measured and controlled thoughts of the Ancient Domitian – the Company Standard Bearer – and then he felt the sharp and tactical vision of first Sergeant Braellen, as his mind came into contact with his thoughts.
He began to pass on the information he had gathered on the surround warp, but before he could finish the transfer, another being began to pass the barrier. He reached toward the latest arrivals and began to pass them-
A Continent of thought, shifted bellow them…
And a tidal wave of emotion struck the Webway…
Again and again… Strike after strike…
It took all of his concentration…
To Hold onto the… fragile connection with Malcador…
And then… the sea of emotion, just… ebbed away…
His mind turned back to his Squad, he could feel their confusion.
He reached out to sooth their-
The Continent surged upward, and struck the Webway…
Shattering the connections to the Gateway…
And allowing the raw essence of the Warp…
To flow into the Palace…
Sigmund didn't feel any of that.
He didn't sense the barrier break.
And he did not witness the Horror…
That entered the gilded labratorum.
He did not feel the outright panick of the Tech-Priests.
Or the utter sense of certainty of the Minds of the Custodians.
All he felt… was pain.
All he felt was the agony… of his body being torn apart.
All he felt was the horror… as his soul was ripped to pieces.
Again and again…
Unendingly until…
The pain stopped…
He looked up to see –
A bolter levelled at his head.
"What. Did. You. Do," screamed Julius his voice muffled through backup manual respirator.
+=SSV Normandy Ground Team=+
+=Eden Prime=+
+=Constant (Capitol)=+
+=Outskirts=+
+=[042.183.M03]=+
+=[06.00.10]=+
+=[mark: + 06.00.00]=+
"The perimeter is secure, Commander," came Kaiden's voice from behind her.
They advanced down the hill, until they forded along a stream and into… a dead-end.
"Damn… a landslide," Shepard began, "we'll have to hike around or mantle over that."
"Ummm… Commander," Jenkins tried to meekly interject.
"Not now Jenkins, we need to find a way around this quickly."
"The thing is –"
"Private, if you try to disrupt my concentration one more time, I'll –"
"S'cuse me, Ma'am," began Kaiden placing himself between Jenkins and the volatile redhead, "but Constant – and the objective – is in the opposite direction."
Shepard looked back at the rockslide, and then in the direction Kaiden had indicated, "Are you certain Lieutenant?"
"Yes, Commander," replied Alenko clearly and succinctly.
"Very well… carryon then," responded Shepard imperiously.
She advanced past her squad to take point, so that her team couldn't see her face. Which had turned an interesting shade of crimson.
How embarrassing, thought Shepard mortified, I didn't think my sense of direction was that bad.
Before they could get out of the blocked stream, the comm. sprang to life.
=This is Nihlus, keep your guard up. The Colony got hit hard.=
They took his warning to heart. They began to move slower, with their rifles raised and their formation spread out (for safety). Shepard didn't want her entire squad taken out by a single rifle burst.
They rounded an outcropping of rock; Shepard brought the squad to a halt with a single raised fist. Ahead of the Squad was a thin strip of barren land, sandwiched between a steep drop-off (on the right) and a vertical cliff (on the left). The area ahead of them was liberally sprinkled with cover.
There is something wrong with this approach, thought Shepard warily.
"Jenkins, you take point," she gestured him forward, "no unnecessary risks."
They'd cover each other, leap-frogging from position to position until they reach the cover of the forest.
It was a good plan…
Jenkins dashed forward…
But as General Patton once said…
Shepard and Kaiden took cover…
That no plan…
Jenkins leaped behind the cover again…
No matter how good…
Jenkins tried to go just that little bit further…
Survives first contact…
Fzzzt… BOOOM!
Before Jenkins could react…
An EMP pulse dropped his shields…
The secondary blast slamming him down…
Into the ground, ripping his suit and pulping flesh…
Before the dust had settled…
Before they could reach Jenkins…
A pack of Drones strafed his form…
Shredding the fallen Marine to bits…
That left Shepard and Kaiden, exposed and on the defensive…
They ducked into cover, fzzt – Bang, redeploy to new position…
Put a burst into that one, take cover, wait for shields to recharge…
On and on this went; there seemed no end to the damn things...
After awhile her body just started going through the motions…
Then she swung round from cover, brought up her Rifle to find…
Nothing.
They had eliminated all enemy contacts; Kaiden was already out of cover.
He was bent over the fallen form of Jenkins, trying to check his vitals manually.
Hope flared in her chest, his suit-computer had flat-lined, but there was still –
Kaiden turned and shook his head bitterly…
"Damn-it!" he cried pounding the ground with a clenched fist, "I should have scanned for Mines. That two-phase Tech-Mine was near god-damn textbook!"
"It wouldn't have made a difference," replied Shepard emotionlessly, "your scans probably wouldn't have picked up anything… did you notice how our targeting suites were jammed after those blasts?"
She went down on one knee, and dragged a gauntlet through the pock-marked ground.
"We're dealing with intelligent mines made from weapons-grade superconducting materials here, they're probably going to be all but impossible to detect with our Omni-tools."
She reached down to Jenkins and pulled of his digital-tags.
"Which begs the question," responded Kaiden flatly, "who fabricates disposable munitions from weapons-grade superconductors?"
The question left unanswered, they advanced cautiously up the hill toward the forest.
The two Biotics taking turns firing kinetic-blasts at the ground ahead of them.
If technology failed them, they would fall back to a tried and true method.
The precision application of brute force…
+=Imperial Palace=+
+=Himalayas=+
+=Classified=+
+=Labratorum=+
+=[222.071.M31]=+
+=[?.?.?]=+
+=[mark: + ?.?.?]=+
Agony.
Retribution.
Purpose.
Pain… all the Sigillite felt…
Pure… seemingly endless pain…
There was just… too much energy…
The Spectral Dragon?
Gone…
Captain Braxton?
A carbon smear…
What of Sergeant Sigmund where –
An image, appeared in his mind-eye…
The image, of… a bolter, levelled at his…
No… Sigmund's… head. The figure holding it…
…Warped…
…Twisted…
…Radiating…
…Malice…
…Hatred…
"WHAT. DID. YOU. DO!" screamed the tainted figure.
His finger tightening upon the trigger until…
"Noooo," screamed the Sigillite, his mind revolting against the premonition.
Turning to his Custodian guardians, "we need to act."
Gripping his staff tightly, he used it to struggle to his feet.
"Take two of the Sisters," he instructed Fabius Durio, "Sigmund is imperilled by a tainted… creature."
Durio hesitated, "but my Lord, you –"
"Go now… before we are over-run!"
Durio deciding to act, turned and signaled to nearby Sisters and Gordian (another bodyguard to the Sigillite), and charged the seething energies of the Portal. The Sigillite… exhausted… passed-out, into the arms of his remaining guardian. His dreams filled with visions of a red-headed woman floating before a glowing eldritch pylon, that seemed to glow through her…
Sigmund had often woken up to find something trying to kill him, like a twenty-foot giant scorpions for instance. So when awoke to find Brother Julius, with a rather large looking Bolter aimed directly at his skull. He really shouldn't have been that surprised, nothing bad had happened to him in awhile, so the universe was just waiting for an opportunity to throw a metaphorical lightning bolt at him. He gazed into the twisted mind of fallen marine before him, what he saw filled him with nothing but the deepest sense of disgust.
So… he began to reach down… deep into himself.
He soon realised he had enough raw energy…
Permeating through him that he could obliterate…
This feeble little speck before him… with a thought.
All it would take was –
And then he felt it… the construct flexed and cracked bellow him.
Only then did he realise the true danger they really were in.
All it would take, to break the bonds holding the construct together.
All it would take… was one more Death.
All it would take… is one more Soul.
All it would take… is one more Sacrifice.
And this entire section would collapse… casting them all into the warp. He had to talk the deranged Marine down; they couldn't risk more blood being spilt.
"Calm down, Brother. You need to listen to –"
Crack!
Julius struck out at the Sergeant, with the butt of his bolter, knocking him down and splitting the skin on the left-hand temple.
"No! You Listen. Finally I will be rewarded. Finally they all will see the Truth. The Emperor in all his wisdom knew –"
In his concussed state, Sigmund didn't hear the rant of the Warp-addled Marine… to be honest he didn't much care what the little shit had to say. In his confused state the only voice that went through his mind was his own.
Where is my helmet?
On his hands and knees, he swept his gaze drunkenly from side to side, looking for his errant headgear.
There next to –
His eyes were drawn to the form of Grammaticus hunched over, and tending to a wounded Braellen, and a almost catatonic Domitian. It showed true dedication that – even unconscious – he held the company standard in a death-grip. The rest of the Squad, were trapped in Time, like flies in Amber. He left Julius to continue his rant, while he returned his helm to its proper place.
He needed to gather his forces and marshal his faculties.
He needed to stem the flow of warp energies, which were bleeding into the Webway.
He began to reach out with his mind towards his trapped squad-mates. The first mind he touched was that of Grammaticus, he then felt the pain crippled mind of Braellen, and he then touched the blank mind of the catatonic Domitian. Sensing the empty wound that was his mind, Sigmund felt for the shattered pieces of his fractured mind, he then began to piece his identity back together. While tending to his fallen brother his mind continued to reach out searching for his other brothers – lost in time. He touched a mind that ran like treacle, it was… Merrik, then he found Gaius. He kept searching for the sluggish thoughts, of those that were trapped in time. He found Vespasion and Greavus at the exact same time, but it took him several agony filled minutes… or was it hours… searching, until he finally found… Delaphor.
But before he could draw them back into real time, a palpable sense of dread began to fill the halls and pathways of the Webway.
The Tunnel began to solidify, and stabilize, but the Marines remained trapped outside the flow of time.
Trying to find the source of this phenomenon, he looked behind Julius and his heart sank in to a deep pit that had formed in the very pit of his stomach.
Behind the unhinged Marine, advanced a malevolent pair of women upon the unsuspecting and ignorant… fool. As they advanced he felt the warp energies leave him, sapping his strength, as he became blind to the Warp around him. The Silent Sisters were unaware of what effect they had on the surrounding Warp, a construct made purely of Warp-Energies and Will that couldn't exist in the enforced Real-space surrounding the Pariahs. His warp-strength leaving him, he sank to his knees, and collapsed feebly to the bottom of the Tunnel.
"Noooo…" he begged weakly as the first sister drove her power-sword through Julius, his pack and out of his chest-plate.
Stunned the tainted Marine dropped his bolter, as the Sister stepped back withdrawing her now crimson blade. The trauma of the injury began to make itself known, as his legs gave out. His hearts torn, his spines severed, and the power-supply for his armour dead. Julius's form sank down to the tunnel floor; shock the only emotion the found purchase upon his pale face.
A shadow fell upon his face, as the two sisters stood over his crumpled form. The very last thing he saw, as the second Sister brought her down in a descending arch toward his throat, were the names upon their armoured collars.
Wyrd and Andlat.
Fate and Death.
+=SSV Normandy Ground Team=+
+=Eden Prime=+
+=Constant (Capitol)=+
+=Outskirts=+
+=[042.183.M03]=+
+=[23.17.10]=+
+=[mark: + 23.17.00]=+
Advance.
Encounter.
Horror.
Silence; filled with the muffled crunch of vulcanised rubber-soles passing over dead leaves, under the vaulted canopy of a forested hill. Two figures were seen advancing between the trees, hugging the trunks and bowls, spurning the open ground. What little light that could pass through the canopy, was deathly weak. Blocked by the maelstrom above, which swirled around an abysmal black… creature, hovering above the Capital… Constant. As they advanced through the forest, Nihlus came across on the radio, with frightening news. He had found civilians, their charred remains anyway, cut-down right next to their defence forces. The solitary pair advanced with steeled determination toward the edge of the forest, and crouched behind a boulder. The edge of the forest rested upon the crest of the hill, which sloped down into the crevice below.
Shepard stopped and raised her left-arm; the orange glow of her Omni-tool sprang to life. She examined the map of the area (that she had already memorised in the garage back on the Normandy), to see that the dig-site was only accessible (from this direction anyway) by that small gorge down below. She was about to signal Kaiden to advance, when –
BA-BA-BA-BANG!
A panicked soldier wearing white (and… was that pink?) armour, was being chased by a pair of flying drones towards the hill. Suddenly she tripped… and just when Shepard thought that Barbie was done for…
She tumbled and rolled…
Rose up on one knee…
Brought up her side-arm…
And blew those drones away…
Whoa… impressive, now get out of there, thought Shepard tactically, wait… what is she doing. No don't stop stare… at… the –
Some robots had grabbed a 'civie', and were dragging him toward some kind of squat cylinder on a tri-pod. They held him over the rounded end of the device, and…
My God it was horrible…
The machines then turned their attention on the lone – and pink – marine, and began to open fire.
Shepard and Kaiden charged –
No-words need be said at all–
Down the hill, point blank –
They need not feel any fear –
BANG
The sound of gunfire, the flash of Biotics…
No need to ask for mercy or surrender…
No need for control, finesse or subtlety...
And then… it was over. Nearly a dozen strange alien corpses lay strewn across the field. Shepard knelt down on one knee to examine the dead aliens, a strange white fluid seeped from the creatures wounds. She drew a finger through the fluid and brought it up to her nose.
It smelt of… synthetic grease?
"What are they, Commander?" asked Kaiden, from his guarding position.
"I think these things are Geth," responded Shepard factually.
"But… the Geth haven't been seen beyond the Persius Veil, in almost three hundred years," interrupted the still unidentified Marine, "um… sorry, ma'am. Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams of the 212th."
Almost ignoring the Williams, Kaiden replied with confusion, "Geth? What are they doing on Eden Prime?"
"One problem at a time, L-T," replied Shepard diplomatically, "first off… Chief where's the rest of your Squad?"
Ashley hung her head, "Gone… we were on patrol, when the attack began. We tried to regroup with the rest of the Division at our Barracks, but…"
Silence pervaded the clearing until Ashley sighed and, "we were ambushed trying to reach the main fallback position. We tried to send out a distress call, h-huh, but they have been blocking all of our comm.-links. I don't know if we managed to transmit the Vid. or not. We tried to withdraw to a more defensible position, but… they just cut us to ribbons…"
"It's okay Chief," replied Shepard consolingly, placing her free hand on the suffering women's shoulder, she knew that feeling well; "the best thing to do is complete the mission. We need to do what we can… here and now."
Shepard turned to Kaiden, "we can mourn the fallen later, for now we have a mission to complete. We need to get to that dig-site."
Ashley seemed to perk up slightly at this, "when the Beacon was found, my Division was deployed to guard the Site. I can lead you there."
Damn, thought Shepard, word probably got out about the Beacon before we could even deployed to get here…
"Lead the way," Shepard instructed her new Squad mate.
+=Warp=+
+=?=+
+=Classified=+
+=?=+
+=[?.?.M?]=+
+=[?.?.?]=+
+=[mark: + 09.18.00]=+
Visions.
Cataclysm.
Retreat.
He floated on a Sea of energy.
The current was swift and strong.
He was being swept along and away.
The energy current was brutal and chaotic.
He had no anchor, no guidance, no support, he –
A Tug.
A Pull.
A Gentle Grasp.
At the core of his soul.
Contact.
Intimate.
Sanctuary.
He was drawn – downward – toward an eldritch pulsing vein.
He drew the calming energy from the link into himself.
His vision flickered and changed, his senses grew.
No longer trapped within his mortal flesh.
The realm of mortal senses shrank.
He saw all within the artery.
Webway, his memory provided.
He saw within the Webway, he saw the flickering souls within.
He was drawn toward the brightest figure on his knees.
The tunnel was filled with living silvery veins.
These twisting lines extended outward.
At the centre, the blue dragon.
His soul touched everyone.
Everyone except…
The only creature that his soul didn't touch… was ugly, twisted and broken.
A sense of wrongness pervaded his mind, as hideous twisting energies, snaked along its form.
The energy poisoned everything around it; it poisoned his soul and his mind.
He reached out toward the dragon, he recognised, his task was vital; crucial.
He must succeed, he must –
A hand closed around his wrist.
He turned… and beheld an Angel.
A being made of pure energy and light.
Flowing through her robes and across the…
Hieroglyphs that wreathed her form in energy.
Flowing across her entire being from head to toe.
He must fail or succeed on his own, spoke a feminine voice – like ringing crystal – directly into his mind.
I have seen… we cannot let him fail, wept the man across their link.
So have I, soothed the spectral angel, calming the seething turmoil within his mind with a sea of soothing feelings.
She turned back to the psychological duel continuing bellow them; she looked upon this grand spectacle and saw the final players of this act approaching.
And so the curtain rises on our little play, spoke the angelic vision, I must leave to await my cue.
And so the spectre of serenity departed leaving the lone watcher bereft, to continue on with his vital task. Bellow a new party approached the battle of wills, two shining giants and a pair of… wounds within the warp. The walls of the Webway thinned and trembled at the approach of these titanic entities. The wounds broke off from the giants shadows and charged ahead, to strike down the twisted-one. The broken body of the twisted-one fell to the ground, one of the shadows raised a shard of malice, and struck –
Raw energy flooded into the Webway, as the Death of Brother Julius shattered the walls holding this small segment of real-space together, with in the maelstrom of the warp. The nightmarish denizens of this twisted hell-scape realm began to flood into the Webway, only to break harmlessly against the armour of the defenders. The field of enforced real-space that surrounded the Silent Sisters began breaking the bonds of psychic energy that held the Daemons together. None of the nightmarish creatures could reach the figures within the Webway, but their continued attacks began to eat away at the psychic walls holding this small pocket reality together.
Sigmund reached for the Warp Device, it was their only hope, for the way back had been Lost to them. He pressed the second bevelled button, and he felt a surge of energy travelling up his arm. He channelled and corralled the raging energy into the very centre of his chest, at the very Apex of flowing Norse-like script upon his Runic-power armour. It built and built within his chest, his body fighting against the raging surreal energies and the influence of the enforced real-space that surrounded him, struggling for dominance within him. His body was torn; his mind was divided, between struggling to channel the raw energy from the warp device, and defending his psyche from the feral psychic attacks of the denizens of the Warp. As the battle continued to rage within the halls of his mind, the strain just grew and grew, as the struggle between the real and unreal realties was slowly tearing his mind apart. As the energy levels grew and grew, it threatened to tear its fleshy vessel apart, violently releasing the pent-up power in his chest.
A single thought pulsed through his mental link between him and his Squad.
You must hold.
You must hold.
You must hold.
You must hold.
You must hold.
I MUST HOLD!
The device emptied the final trickle of pure warp energy into the body of the poor Marine. His soul began to ring and echo throughout the caverns of the Webway, with a single pure crystalline Note. Sensing the inevitable, he speared his consciousness – outward – searching for the Custodians and the Sisters of Silence. The very essence of the Sisters and their existence tore at the fraying edges of his mind, trying to undo all that he had accomplished through his Sorcery. Unbidden the pure Note continued to grow, eventually reaching a deafening crescendo. The feral energies tore apart the broken corpse of Brother Julius, obliterating him from History. With a blinding flash, his Sorcery ripped them from the Warp, casting them blindly into Real-space.
When his sight returned, Sigmund found himself prone – on his hands and knees – at the edge of a small airy forest. He tried to reach out with his mind, to survey his surroundings, when a blinding pain spiked and burnt through his mind. He withdrew from the flow of energy around him, and the mind numbing pain receded. The trauma of the Warp Transit thus prevented him from channelling the energy through his mind; he couldn't access his abilities… he was completely blind. He looked down at the Warp Device in his hand, flipping the cover open, to reveal that energy within the Device was completely spent. He looked to his left and then to his right, he could find neither sign nor trace of his Squad. He lifted his gaze from the grass beneath his boots, to the gleaming city on the edge of the Horizon. His eyes were drawn irrevocably toward the giant beetle-black leviathan the drifted inverted like an ancient Kraken in the centre of a biblical maelstrom.
At the sight of the malevolent leviathan, a memory stirred within the caverns of his mind; it will become apparent in time…
The Scrolls…
He reached into the satchel at his waist blindly, and pulled out the first cylinder that the palm of his hand came in contact with. He pulled out the bronzed scroll, and gazed upon the intricate crimson wax seal. It bore a stylized double 'I' within the intricately embossed seal, the bronze casing was engraved with the imagery of entwined dragons, feral in appearance circling each other. He broke the seal and opened the scroll.
+=Your Squad is Safe=+
+=Find the Beacon=+
+=Follow the Shepard=+
+=Hunt down the Spectre=+
+=Entrust your War-gear to the Machinist=+
+=And Remember… to entrust your Soul to the Archaeologist=+
What Beacon?
…and then he sensed it, on the very edge of his mindscape, resting upon the very edge of his half-blinded witch-sight, a small trickle of the Warp into this reality. It was barely there, weak and inactive; flowing across the lay-lines of this world, a nexus of the power that was near the very heart of the city. He rose from his knees, to his full height and began to check his war-gear. He racked the bolt on his bolter, and began his inexorable march toward the glistening city upon the Horizon.
And from the crest of the hill behind him, two solitary figures watched. A brown-cloaked figure with an organic looking bone-white rifle trained upon the back of the retreating form of Sergeant Sigmund, and the Astral form of the First Lord of Terra.
Malcador the Sigillite.
Code Entry: Time Travel
For centuries Citadel Scientists have debated the 'Theoretical Existence of Alternate Realities and Time-Travel'. Salarian Scientists first postulated the 'Improbability of Time Travel' that – simply put – the very action of utilising a Time Machine would alter the events leading up to the Development and/or Deployment of the Time Machine itself and/or alter the events of the individuals whom developed the machine, etc. Ergo/Therefore the moment a Time Machine is activated; it would cease to exist. It wasn't until Dr. Sari D'Lan (an Asari Physicist) postulated the 'Existence of Alternate Realties and/or Plains of Existence', that actual time, effort and research was expended upon the Concept. From that research, a Theoretical Particle, the "Tachyon" (in English) was first postulated (approximately 325 Standard Years ago). Over the centuries many countless individuals have claimed or asserted to have either observed or recorded Tachyons in a variety of interstellar phenomenon. It wasn't until the 11th of February 2183 (see. Human – 'Gregorian Calendar'), that the First – and Second (if not disputed) – recording of Tachyons occurred aboard the 'SSV Normandy' during the Geth Assault on Eden Prime (see. 'The Saren Affair'/'First Battle of the Citadel'). It would later be determined that Tachyons, were one of the many forms of radiation emitted (and observed) during Warp Transit (see. Warp Tech/Teleporter/Gellar Field).
Codex Entry: Sigmund "The Terrible" Tyrannus
Citadel News Network: 23rd March 2184
Audio Transcript:
Emily Wong:
So Captain, with almost two Centuries of combat experience under your belt, you must have some interesting stories.
Captain Sigmund:
Well… there was this one time. We were about to conduct an inspection of some representative Council, on a Moon above their home Planet. So… there we were. Flying in on this little Stormbird, and out of no~where… we start getting radar locks, and the Sky just filled with Flak. We~ll… at least I think it was a radar lock. I was standing at the door. I heard a Beep, then a Bang, and felt a Bump. After that the world was just spinning as I went ass-over-tea-kettle out the door.
Emily Wong:
My word that does sound harrowing… I suppose you were wearing some sort of arresting gear?
Captain Sigmund:
Na~ah, all I had was my Power Armour, the trees broke my fall. The Jungle was mostly Sub-Tropical, vines and conifers and such. So I get down out of a tree, and boy… was I pissed. We were there as diplomats, we were there to discuss terms and bring the system into Compliance, and here these bastards were shooting at us. It's-
Emily Wong:
Sorry to interrupt Captain… but could you please explain the term "Compliance?"
Captain Sigmund:
Not a problem miss Wong, standard military practice, during the Great Crusade (otherwise known as the Great Unification) was to Scout out each system systematically. When a Civilisation or Lost Culture was found, we would give them a choice, join us or else. If they said no, we'd send a fleet to force them to join us. Either way once they agreed to out terms, an Imperial delegation would be dispatched (usually spear-headed by a Space Marine detachment) to ensure that they complied with Imperial Law. Brutal I know, but all we truly enforced upon them was an interpretation of Imperial Law.
Emily Wong:
Could you explain the legal requirements of Imperial Law further.
Captain Sigmund:
Well, its not exactly set in stone. It's more a series of loosely interpreted conditions required for Compliance. The first requirement was the Rule of Law. A loose interpretation of the Magna Carta; the right to own property, the right to a fair trial, and so on and so forth. The second requirement was Imposition of Civilisation and Planetary Governance. To extrapolate further on that; we would impose structure upon Anarchy, the observation and monitoring of Psychically Gifted individuals, and other such measures to create a semblance of Order and to prevent incursions of Warp Entities into Realspace. Finally we would appoint a planetary governor to manage the planet and if necessary the system. If the World is sufficiently advanced and unified, we would appoint the overall ruler of that World as planetary governor. If the world is divided or not significantly advanced enough an outside governor would be appointed. The Final Requirement is the application of the Imperial Tithe. The Tithe is simply a logistical requirement. There are several grades within the Tithe; each corresponding to either a certain size of population, a specific resource unique to that world, or a certain type of technological development. These resources would be used to govern the System and provide further resources for the Great Crusade.
Emily Wong:
What about those worlds that do not have significant population or resources, would the Tithe still be applied to them?
Captain Sigmund:
Of course we wouldn't impose unreasonable requirements upon such worlds. There is a Tithe Grade – Adeptus Non – is roughly translates to 'not applicable.' These worlds would not be required to contribute and would actually be eligible to receive outside resources to provide the necessary protection and services for governance. My home-world of Sycorax, fell under the Tithe Grade of Adeptus Non. It is a Death World and as such could not physically provide resources beyond subsistence levels for the population. But I digress, you wanted to hear a Swash-buckling tale of adventure and here we turn to talk of standard government procedures… So the reason I was so 'upset' was… well they had already agreed to join us, we were there to discuss terms, without even the threat of violence. So there we where, on a Diplomatic Mission, on Neutral Ground, and they were shooting at us. This little hell-hole we were meeting on didn't even have a name, it was just a little moon (an extra-solar capture) best maybe described as a dwarf planet. The damn thing was smaller than Pluto. However it still had a biosphere, transplanted from its parent planet, Varestus Prime. The place had scorpions the size of battle tanks, everything on that place was either poisonous or carnivorous, even the plants! So there I was, on foot, basically trying to triangulate the radar guided flak batteries, by trying to 'eye-ball' it. So I tracked down one of the flak-guns, I killed the crew, and tapped into their Comms. I managed to find where the enemy commander was going to be. What I found was his extraction point, so I headed over and got ready waiting for him at the LZ. He showed up six hours later, as I was about engage, this little stubby V-TOL flew over me. The pilot landed in the clearing and rotated the nose of the craft to face me, head-on. I had a choice; let him get on that craft, or take out the shuttle. If he flew away we'd never catch him, but if I shot now he'd bolt and I'd lose him. Either way it was a lose-lose situation. So… I took the Shot. Right through the Canopy. In such a confined space, it was like a grenade going off in a fuel drum. The shuttle hit the ground, blew sky-high, and the enemy general bug-out of there faster than a Politian from the Truth.
(Audio Disruption: General Chuckling)
Captain Sigmund:
So they fled into the Jungle. His men weren't prepared for that environment, they were dropping like flies. They left a trail of bodies – a mile wide – right to their camp. But by the time we got there, I had pursued them across three continents, and I had exhausted all my ammo. After a dozen ambushes the enemy had set for me, and the local floral and fauna, I didn't have round to my name. So there I was, looking for a way to get to him, and all I had was an empty bolter, my trusty combat knife, and a rusty entrenching shovel – that I had picked up from a corpse a few miles back. So I started hunting them, first I trapped them. I took out their vehicles, their pilots and their Enginseers. Then I went after their leaders, first their squad leaders, and then their group leaders. At this point, the enemy commander started panicking, and he just started throwing his forces at me. I had to fight through the entire battalion. Lucky me, they didn't have any anti-armour weapons so they couldn't even scratch my armour. I finally… got to the enemy commander and in desperation he tried to fight me in hand-to-hand. Needless to say it didn't work. After I killed the Commander, I moved to secure the camp. Not a single soldier remained. I had killed the entire enemy force, with nothing but a combat knife, an empty bolter and a rusty shovel.
Emily Wong:
Isn't that a bit of an exaggeration, Captain?
Captain Sigmund:
I suppose your right, maybe it was a bit of an exaggeration…
Emily Wong:
So what happened to the people of-
Captain Sigmund:
It wasn't that rusty.
Emily Wong:
Er… I beg your pardon?
Captain Sigmund:
The Shovel… it wasn't tha~t rusty.
There you go, Chapter 2 – "Arrival" of Upon the Wings of Eagles… and on a lighter note always Google the name of whatever your about to publish, before ya publish it. I found that out the hard way when I gave them the Keywords to Google my story and they came across; On the Wings of Eagles, and Assassin Creed Fic instead. Since I felt that this Chapter was a little short I added a little 'Omake' thingie ma-whatzits at the end of the Codex Entry, hope you enjoy it (for reference it takes place a year after the events in my Story) and on an Editorial Note I have begun Bolding the Written/Computer Text/Audio Transmissions to make them stand out more. Anyhoo… thank you all for your Reviews, they are much appreciated, and I agree there was to much bold... I was weak, I have joined a support group, and I will no-longer binge on bolded words… that much… kinda like now. To respond to one of the better critiques, I'm sorry I didn't notice the misuse of "there" and "they're" and I will focus – grammatically – on these more in the future. To the other Trolls, which fortunately I only seem to have an infestation of one so far, if you do not like my story… then don't read it. To those of you who do enjoy my story… Thank You… and I will be posting Chapter 3 – "First Contact" on the 15 of October (15/10/2013), please review.