The Hunting Raven chapter 3
Loc Lac
Michael trudged through the sand.
From what these people had told him, much of this area was desert. Apparently this planet had no more desert than Holy Terra itself, it just had almost all of it concentrated in one area. They had told him much about the world. His many questions about it had prompted one of them to ask jokingly, "What are you, an alien?" His lack of an answer had drawn several odd looks and raised eyebrows. He had the feeling though, that they would not be so easygoing around him if it hadn't been for that stream they had waded through, which had washed most of the blood off of his armor. Even now though, he could see their nervousness at being around a nine foot, armored giant.
As they cleared the last hill, his drop pod came into view. Most of them gasped or cried out. Only two of them didn't: Jazz, and the woman in spiked armor, who had been glaring at him since the battle with the "Great Jaggi."
The former merely stared at the burnt, but still noticeably red, pod. His expression was inscrutable behind his helm.
Finally he turned to Michael and said, "You really are an alien, aren't you?"
The Astartes bristled slightly at being called such a thing, but he quickly suppressed it. It was becoming increasingly obvious that these people did not know of the God-Emperor or the Imperium to any extent.
Michael shook his head. "No, I am human, though I am not of this world."
"And that," another hunter said, jabbing a finger at the drop pod. "Is not an airship. Just who the heck are you, anyway?"
Michael sighed, but ultimately decided that telling them would be for the best. After all, he would need allies in this hostile environment, and they were unlikely to trust him unless they knew something about him. So he gave them a shortened history of the Imperium of Man, telling of the plagues of Xenos that wished nothing more than to wipe humanity from existence.
From there, now that they would be able to understand his story, he told a simplified version of his own story. He told of how his battle barge had been attacked while trying to study their world. The killing shot from the Ork fleet had been the shell that had struck the storage and arming facility for the drop pods, destroying most of them and damaging what was left. All of the Astartes on board had been ordered to depart via their drop pods, this would free up all of the escape pods. Though he had not been able to see for himself, he made an educated guess that the other pods were simply too damaged and either flew apart after being fired out of the ship's cannon or burned up in the upper atmosphere. His own was barely able to survive.
When he had finished, he looked up to see Jazz and the others staring at him. After a moment, Jazz spoke.
"That would certainly explain a few things. But I thought...I've never heard of a place called 'Holy Terra.' We certainly aren't from there...But wait, the books say that we moved from someplace else, so could it?..." His voice began decreasing in volume as he fell into his own thoughts. After a moment he shook his head, as though trying to rid himself of an irritating fly.
"Well, whatever. We can get this all figured out later, once we get to Loc Lac." Michael guessed that "Loc Lac" was the name of a settlement where these hunters were based, if not where they lived.
At that moment, a shadow passed overhead, accompanied by the sound of windblown cloth. Michael looked up, instinctively reaching for his heavy bolter, but he halted when he saw what it was.
It was the most unusual contraption that he had ever seen. The "gondola" of the blimp-like device was shaped like a more aerodynamic version of a boat. Tied to it with with thin looking lines were three large, oval balloons. Two sets of propellers and a large underslung sail moved the airship. Its sail twisted and turned as it drew alongside the nearby cliff.
Michael sighed inwardly, he would have to explain the whole situation again to Matthew on the way to Loc Lac.
As the airship flew at a respectable speed across the desert, Michael admired the unique view of the landscape that it gave him. It was beyond rare that he flew in a craft that wasn't armored on all sides, but apparently in this world there was little worry of attacks from the air by anything but "monsters."
Michael frowned. The fight of the hunters reminded him very much of the Imperium's constant war. Like the Astartes' never ending fight against the Warp, the hunters' war against monsters could never truly end. Even more so, in fact, since they had no choice but to spare a number of them, as hunting them to extinction could destroy the balance of nature on the entire planet. Without advanced technology, there would be no way to correct that.
The Space Marine shifted slightly, causing the pile behind him to crinkle metalically. Unsurprisingly, the airship was unable to carry the tonnage of scrap that had once been his drop pod. But the airship was more than able to carry everything from the pod that could still be of use, including weapons that he was unable to carry on his own and armor plating scavenged from the hull of the pod itself that, if necessary, could be forged into a new suit of armor for himself.
Before they had left, Michael had also been able to cobble together enough parts to temporarily repair the sensors on board the pod. He had feared that he would waste the two hours it had taken to narrow the focus enough to detect anything outside the system. Luckily, he had detected a single ship, a small freighter, that was making a run close to this system, where he would be able to contact it with his suit-borne vox box. The only trouble was that the ship appeared to be taking a heavily zigzagged path that wouldn't take it close enough to be contacted for another month and a half. Thankfully though, the cobbled together sensors were light enough to be carried on board the airship.
"Thar she blows," Matthew said with a yawn from the bow of the ship. Some of the other hunters grunted in acknowledgment, the others said nothing. Michael could tell that they were still quite nervous though. He stood up, wanting to see what this settlement looked like from the air.
The airship heaved from his shifting weight as he took his first step, drawing nervous, worried looks from the hunters. Michael paused to let the ship steady before walking again, taking slower steps this time.
What he saw below stunned him.
Loc Lac was no mere settlement. It was a full blown megalopolis. Buildings stretched as far as the horizon. None were very tall, but that was to be expected. People of all kinds walked through the crowded streets. Many were obviously armor, wearing strange and exotic hunting gear and armor. The normal citizenry, meanwhile, went about there business as well as their children ran and played through the streets. It was a sight like nothing he had seen before, and not because of its size. There was no sign of the strain or fear that existed in cities of the Imperium. Despite the hordes of monsters constantly clawing at humanity's door, their lives remained clean, free from the stain of blood.
Matthew began to slowly spin the ship as it passed between two stone pillars.
That was when he noticed the tower within the city.
Its size was immense! It was a far cry from any skyscraper in a modern city, but it did not seem to have been built at all. It seemed to be made almost of bone. Near the bottom, it began to take on a turquoise hue...
Turquoise? That reminded him of the scale that he had found. He would have to ask about it later.
The airship slowed to a position beside a large, flat building. When it had stopped, several people in tan clothing walked up and began unloading the supplies that the hunters had brought with them. The men paled when they saw Michael. He smiled slightly, knowing that, especially with his helmet on, he did look quite intimidating.
Jazz spoke to them about where to take the hunters' supplies. When they reached Michael's large pile, they looked nervously to him.
"Where do you want them to put your stuff, Michael?" Jazz asked. "Since you'll apparently be stayin' for a while, I c'n set up a guest room for ya. Mind if they put it there?" Michael shook his head.
As they continued unloading the supplies, Michael and the hunters began to walk toward the center of this section of the city, through a partially shaded tunnel with shops on either side. The shopkeepers and their potential customers stopped and fell silent as he walked by. They did not venture above a whisper even after he had passed.
Soon they came to a large circular room, apparently a bar of some kind. Hunters of all kinds sat at the tables talking, yelling, laughing and drinking. Thankfully, they detoured around that area to a hallway next to the entrance, soon coming to another room. This one was apparently for planning. A group of hunters stood around a table with a map on it. The room fell silent as Michael walked in. The apparent planners, a man wearing similar castle-esque armor to Jazz, a woman wearing waving blue armor, and another man wearing green armor similar to that worn by knights on ancient Terra.
The man in castle armor was definitely a veteran. His dark face bore the hard lines of past conflicts. A narrow scar ran from below his right eye to above his left. The only thing left untouched was his flowing silver hair.
"Well, Jazz," He rumbled in a deep baritone. "I'm gonna guess that you succeeded. Now how are you gonna explain how you found ihim/i."
Jazz finished the tale.
Everyone in the room was stunned, to say the very least, and soon began muttering amongst themselves. They silenced when the castle-man stood up and walked over to Michael. He was tall for an unaltered human, nearly seven feet, but was still much shorter than the Astartes.
"Well Michael," he said after a moment. "It would seem that you're stuck here for a while. In the meantime, we've been a little shorthanded with all these quests on our to do list. How'd you like to be a temporary member of the Rathbane?"
Michael thought for a moment. A chance to fight as he normally would instead of merely waiting around for the freighter to arrive? He wouldn't miss it for the whole of the Imperium! He nodded.
The man cracked a small smile and held out his hand. "You can call me Thardus," he said. Then he pointed to the three others behind him. "These are my elite squad, the ones who were with me when we first started the Rathbane. They're Marina," the woman who kept glaring at him, "Max," the man in knight style armor, "Cydni," the woman in blue armor, "and I believe that you've already met my brother, Jazz."
Michael nodded. He noted that the people around him were still nervous. He decided that now was not the time for intimidation and took off his helmet.
He was an altered human, true, but he was still human. His hair was not long. The brown strands had been cropped short to a flat top. His skin was white but bore a few small scars. Small wires ran visibly from small metal bases on his temples to his eyes, allowing for his heavily enhanced vision.
Thardus recognized the gesture and smiled briefly before frowning.
"You know, you're gonna need some cash," he said. "You wouldn't happen to have any on you, would ya?"
Michael shook his head. Astartes had no need for money, and he doubted that the Imperium's currency would be of any worth here. Then he thought of the scale, perhaps he could sell it for something. He took it out of the pack on his back and showed it to Thardus.
"Does this have any market value?" he asked.
A collective gasp ran through the hunters in the room. Thardus and his elite stared at the turquoise scale with wonder and awe. The leader of the Rathbane carefully took the scale in his hand.
"Does this have any value?" Cydni said in an awed, disbelieving voice. "Boy, do you even know what this thing is?"
Michael shook his head, confused. Thardus let out a laugh.
"My friend," Thardus said jovially. "You have just become one of the richest men in Loc Lac. This little jewel here is a mohran jade scale!"
The Astartes stared at the scale, unsure of what to say...
A/N: Once again, reviews are welcome. And please tell me if you see any wierdly placed letters (i or /i).