Lieutenant Shinji Ikari, formerly of the 140th Dantran Rifles, transferred to the 67th, lay in his bunk in the Victoria Mortis. Beside him, his audiosten cycled aimlessly, queue empty as it had been for the past few hours. He lay in the darkness, hearing the faint whirring of the device next to him, as well as the distant, muffled clanging and shouting of the engine rooms. It had been three days since his arrival on the ship, and the excitement had worn off fast. The ancient, cramped hallways, with walls partially concealing pipes and wires, went from curious to unimportant to boring.
A bell above his bunk rang, summoning him for a meal. Shinji had made no further inroads into making friends or enemies and responded to these calls as if they were a lifeline, summoning him to be a part of a brotherhood that he would never have otherwise found. He rolled out of bed, pulled on a shirt, and walked through the bowels of the ship, toward the mess hall.
The mess hall was a sea of noise as Shinji made his entrance along with his squad. They picked up their food, a densely packed nutrient paste. Despite his rank, he still ate the same food as his men, a far cry from the food he ate as the spoiled son of a planetary governor. He sat down and began to eat his food, which tasted like, and was rumoured to contain, grox-shit. Despite this, it contained all the nutrients the average soldier would need for combat. The rest of the table was quiet, just conversations between small groups. Shinji spectated these, missing the attentive, blue eyes boring into him.
The command staff sat at another table, overlooking the rest of the mess hall. As they ate, one woman kept stealing glances at another table across the room.
"Like what you see, Asuka?"
The girl referred to as Asuka jumped slightly and glanced up at the older, purple-haired Inquisitor beside her.
"What? Throne, no. Inquisitor Katsuragi, I-" She was cut off by the Inquisitor.
"I've told you…" She paused for a moment. "Seventeen times just to call me Misato, Captain-Commissar Langley-Soryu."
"Fine. Anyway, Misato, I was just having a look at our newest recruits." Asuka smirked "They don't look like they're going to last an hour into their first engagement."
"I disagree with your statement, Captain-Commissar," the calm voice of another one of the Inquisitor's companions floated down the table, barely audible over the noise of the room. "The runes of fate suggest there is a high chance of one of these soldiers influencing prime futures."
"Even if you'd said that in gothic, I'd still never trust the word of a xenos witch like you." Asuka made the Imperial Eagle across her chest. "Emperor above, Misato. Why do you keep these abominations against the Imperium around?"
"I keep Farseer Ayanami around because she's useful. Foretelling the future is a good idea in this line of work." She took a gulp of amasec from a can in front of her. "And Kaworu? He just came along with Rei. I'm not even sure what to do with him. No offense, of course."
"None taken. I could not possibly be insulted by one of you mon-keigh. No offence of course." The boy-thing at the end of the table grinned, pointed ears showing through tufted, grey hair.
"Now, we've got a warp translation tomorrow," Misato said, picking up her now-empty plate. "I'm going to get some good, old-fashioned sleep beforehand."
She deposited her plate at the designated servitor. Washing up was something that happened to other people. As she turned to go, she stopped.
"I may just take some Jolrikan Ale with me though."
She braced for a barbed taunt from the young captain-commissar about her drunkenness, all too common since she had commandeered the 67th rifles not too long ago. But Asuka was no longer paying attention, eyes and mind focused on one particular boy at another table.
Misato sighed and left the room, a can of ale in each hand. She was followed soon after by the two eldar, leaving Asuka alone to her thoughts.
Shinji finished his meal, still sitting alone. He quietly took his plate to a servitor and made his way back to his room. Hopefully, something interesting would happen soon.
Something interesting came in the form of the next day's events.
"Two minutes to warp translation. All non-essential personnel, strap yourselves in"
The vox-caster blared, stirring Shinji out of his reverie. He looked around his small room, noting for the first time the acceleration seat, complete with bindings, attached to the wall.
The stars outside the window began to jerk and move, warning that the Victoria Mortis was beginning to move. The low thrum of the engine went up in pitch in time to the small vibration that permeated the ship.
"One minute until jump."
Shinji strapped himself into the acceleration seat. The straps were tight around his chest, cutting into his body and restricting his breathing. The stars outside the porthole wheeled by faster now.
"Ten seconds until jump. May his light guide us in the immaterium."
The vibrations in the ship increased, and the faint whine of the warp drive began.
'Five seconds to jump.'
If anything was going to go wrong, it was going to happen soon. In the distance, he could hear the howling of the engines as they began to reach their peak
'Four.'
Was that a faint halo of light beginning to appear on the furnishings? The howling noise rose and lowered in pitch until it began to move between sounds like deep thunder and a whine like a plummeting shuttle.
'Three.'
Yes, the halo was there and getting brighter. Distant thunder rattled the metal walls. The ship was vibrating; it quivered as if in eagerness, anticipation even. It reminded Shinji of one of his father's hunting dogs being readied to hunt.
'Two.'
The whole ship was shaking violently. Would it break apart in the warp?
'One.'
The whole of the vast starship sprang forward, like a hound that was straining against a leash being released. With a huge thunderclap of sound, the ship rang as if it had been hit with a titanic hammer.
The ship shuddered hugely. Shinji could hear the metal creak, sounding as if there were one of Tonika's frequent hive-quakes occurring. It felt as if massive forces were bought upon the ship, now puny in comparison to the raging maelstrom in which it was caught. Shinji's stomach lurched at the thought of the Victoria Mortis shattering in the warp.
The lieutenant fought to control the pit of nervous fear was that was his stomach. What was that shrieking sound? It sounded like the wailing of lost souls. And that ominous scraping? Was it the claws of daemons dragging themselves along the hull? He had a half-horrified, half-fascinated desire to look out the porthole, but it had been sealed with massive metal shutters in preparation for the jump.
His skin felt as if it was simultaneously on fire and slick with oil for a second before the feeling suddenly vanished. His heart raced and his mind screamed at him about the un-nothing that surrounded the ship. He did the only thing that any rational person would do.
He screamed.
The inquisitor and her retinue sat in the observation deck, watching the warp maelstrom rage through the specially treated dome. The darkness, not merely the absence of light, but instead dark light impossible in the material universe, was lit with strobing flashes of uncomfortable colours that could not be named.
The ship bucked and rolled in the tides of the warp but stayed intact. Small fractures ran across the glass, adding to the already considerable breaks.
"I'm going to have to do something about that soon." Inquisitor Katsuragi muttered.
The thin, flickering energy of the Gellar Field was visible through the viewing dome, protecting the ship and all of its occupants from the silently howling gales of madness and death of the Warp.
"Well, that was a shitty jump," Misato's voice was loud amongst the tense silence of the deck. "Probably the worst I've had for a while. Any worse for you three?"
The two eldar considered carefully.
"It was… not pleasant. The warp scratches at the edges of my mind even now," said Rei.
Kaworu scratched his chin.
"I have to say, it was pretty bad. Must have been worse for Rei, being a Farseer and all."
"Tell me about it. Sometimes, being a psyker is a curse."
Asuka looked at Misato in shock. "You're a psyker?"
"Pretty latent psychic powers, but yes, I am."
"Aliens and mutants. What's next, consorting with heretics?"
"I'd hope not. This is the Ordo Hereticus after all."
"Emperor above, I hate warp travel. I feel sickened already." Asuka swallowed hard, disgust written across her face.
As the ship began to progress through the warp, the feeling of revulsion subsided but never really went away, leaving the people on board with a constant feeling of low-grade nausea. Still, the ship plowed endlessly through the tides of the warp, ferrying its cargo of human life between the stars.
As the days went by, or at least appeared to do so, for no one knows in the warp, Shinji and others noticed their bodies begin to strengthen slightly. When they asked, they were told that the artificial gravity had been increased to match the world they were travelling to. Sermons and specific training became mandatory, focusing on combating one type of creature specifically.
The Ork.
"An ork is very strong and very stupid." The old instructor at the front of the room droned, voice sending many to sleep,
"Sounds like a certain person I know", muttered Kensuke, looking at Toji. Mari laughed quietly.
"Hey…" Toji frowned and shot a glare at Kensuke.
Shinji tried to ignore them and focus on the lesson.
"Orks are very tough and strong as well. If you shoot an ork in the stomach, it will probably ignore it for quite some time. If you shoot its arm off, it will probably pick it up and beat you to death with it."
"Take it back."
"No. I'm fairly sure being turned into a servitor would be an improvement for your intelligence."
The scuffle at the back was quite audible now, but the teacher continued regardless.
"Shooting an ork in the head will most likely kill it though. Even the toughest body and stupidest mind is no match for the power of a well-aimed lasgun."
"You asshole!"
"Not taking it back."
Shinji finally worked up the courage to do something. "Guys…"
They both turned around to look at him. "Stay out of this, Lieutenant. You may be in command, but you ain't the boss of me!" Toji said.
Shinji looked away, feeling sheepish. "Yeah, okay."
The teacher finished the lesson. "You have a warp exit in one hour, then 6 hours of sleep before a deployment. Get ready for your first engagement. If you survive an hour, you're a full guardsman. If you survive five, congratulations on veteran status."
He looked at the class, as if noticing them for the first time.
"What are you waiting for? Get ready, bug-food! You're in shuttle 34!"
With a half-hearted "Yes, sir," people left the classroom.
The planet had no name. It was a minor world, an Agri-world of low yield and even lower population. It was the sole planet orbiting a star with no name, only a number. An intangible ring of psychic energy folded and rotated outside of the system limits, a rare permanent warp gate.
From this gate came the Victoria Mortis, moving from warp space to real space through the liminal area of the gate.
Misato stood on the bridge next to the captain. "How did we go?"
"Realspace time elapsed estimated to be 3 months. On ship time elapsed is 8 days, 5 hours and 42 minutes. We lost a mere 252 ship hands, and another 34 went insane."
"So, a good trip then?"
"Very good numbers. The navigators kept us on target as well."
"Good."
Misato strode off the bridge to the sound of bells, summoning those who had forgotten to say their evening prayers.
Darkness. The small glow of a datapad. A small beep as it bypassed the security systems of a cogitator. A few quick, quiet taps and keystrokes. A simple matter, only moving things around. This didn't take long. After a short period of time, the cogitator shut down. Quiet footsteps, and the creaking of moving leather. The Beep-Hiss of a security door being bypassed. Darkness. Quiet.
"Three hours to drop-ship disembark."
The voice, harsh, toneless, mechanical, issued over the ship's vox-speakers. The lights snapped on, waking soldiers from their dreamless sleep. Veterans got dressed languidly, casual chatting overlaid on naked fear. New recruits jittered, full of nervous energy. They hurried through their morning routines, too anxious to speak. Both groups knew that this could be their last hours.
"Two hours to drop-ship disembark."
With metallic groans, the bay doors opened. Servitors, segmented arms whirring, checked ident numbers while guardsmen slowly filled the dropships. All guardsmen knew their ship, all knew their seat numeral.
It was therefore of great surprise to Lieutenant Ikari, whose title was now official when going into combat, when the servitor refused to allow him access to dropship #34, where he was placed. He was sure; he had checked before going to sleep.
"Why won't you let me on?" A small line formed behind him.
The servitor's voice was simultaneously mechanical and wetly fleshy. "Ikari, Shinji. Rank: Lieutenant. Ident-numeral #19873269420. Shuttle numeral #01."
Shinji frowned. "I swear I was on this shuttle. Why has it changed?"
"Ikari, Shinji. Rank: Lieutenant. Ident-numeral #19873269420. Shuttle numeral #01."
Shinji turned around and looked at Private Toji, a couple of places behind him.
"Hey, Toji. Come here for a moment."
The servitor turned, augumentic eyes refocusing.
"Suzuhara, Toji. Rank: Trooper. Ident-numeral #19874269421. Shuttle numeral #01."
Toji folded his arms. "Drop-ship one? Isn't that the command ship?"
Kensuke, who had moved up behind them, nodded. "This means that either something very good has happened, or something very bad. I guess we're about to find out."
"One hour to drop-ship disembark. Final call for shuttle loading."
Despite the labyrinthine construction of an imperial starship, a ship nearly empty of people was fairly easy to navigate. The metallic voice over the vox was more urgent, interceding as they reached their new launch bay. Mari was already there. They lined up, Shinji entering first, in silence. The servitor protested briefly, before allowing Lieutenant Ikari to pass. The rest of his command squad was allowed to pass without incident. They climbed into the cramped, crowded confines of the drop-ship.
"Forty-five minutes until drop-ship disembark. Sealing all drop-ships. Begin preparations for launch."
Shuttle One, as a command drop-ship, had more comfort than a normal ship, i.e., any. Seats were assigned by rank and seniority, with the highest-ranking near the middle. As such, Lieutenant Ikari found his seat in between a grizzled man with a steel plate replacing his left temple, and a youngish, red-headed woman in the uniform of the commissariat.
"30 minutes until drop-ship disembark. All guardsmen, strap yourself in."
Shinji turned to the man on the right of him. "I'm Shin-" was all he managed before the man cut him off.
"I didn't ask, and I don't care. Quite frankly, there's no reason for you to be here, on this shuttle. Live through your first engagement, new meat," he growled the term, "and I'll learn your name and rank. Until that point, there's no time to waste on a dead man walking. Ain't that right, Captain-Commissar?"
The woman on the other side of Shinji turned. She was, Shinji noticed in some deep part of him that was not shutting down in mortal terror, incredibly attractive.
"Just shut up and strap yourself in, Commander Chad."
Commander Chad, which had to be either a callsign or nickname, snorted and pulled the protective harness over his body in one, fluid motion. The captain-commissar mirrored the action. Shinji tried to copy them, but the bulk of his flak armour constricted his movements. He fumbled the buckle into place.
"Twenty minutes until disembark. Launching drop-ships."
Shinji felt the bones in his body ache and his spine contract for an instant as the artificial gravity of the drop-ship and the Victoria Mortis overlapped. The metal creaked and the small engine roared, pushing the ship out of the bay into the void of space, toward the sphere of green and blue that was System-631234-4. Gravity kicked in after a minute or two, allowing the craft to coast on momentum.
The captain-commissar, whose name was still a mystery, spoke up as soon as the engine shut off. "Mouthguards in, boys."
Veteran guardsmen slotted in their mouthguards over their teeth. Shinji, Toji, Kensuke and Mari were surprised.
"We weren't told about bringing mouthguards!" Kensuke complained.
"Shoulda thought of it yourself, cogboy," A scarred veteran with leathery skin and a plasma gun nodded at Kensuke's mechanicus tattoo. "Besides, you're still a drop-virgin 'till you break your first tooth."
Chad nodded. "Aye, Sheriff. Good wisdom."
Shinji fished around in his pockets, eventually pulling out a small rag that he had used to shine his shoes the night before. He hesitated for a moment before putting it into his mouth, wrapping it over his teeth. He grimaced; It tasted horrible, the acrid taste of boot polish and old oil.
"Not bad, lieutenant." The captain-commissar smiled, not in a friendly way, but a predator's grin, unto one of a wolf or shark who has just come across wounded prey. "If we meet again, just stick close to me and you'll probably live. After all, Captain-Commissar Asuka Langley Soryu is the best at what she does! For the Emperor!"
The last sentence was a war cry, that was echoed throughout the chamber by trooper and officer alike. Even Shinji's new recruits mumbled along.
"Ten minutes to drop-ship disembark. Penetrating ionosphere now."
A low chuckle came from the more humorously inclined troopers. Despite the shared dirty joke, the mood inside the ship was tense. The conversation slowly died away, replaced by the sounds of quiet praying, of soldiers begging their uncaring god to save them from death.
"From the fighting, and the tempest, Emperor deliver us…"
"Ave Imperator! Erip de mort!"
"I tread the path of Righteousness. Though it be paved with broken glass, I will walk it barefoot; though it may cross rivers of fire, I will pass over them; though it wanders wide, the light of the Emperor guides my step."
The craft slowly began to shudder and shake as the turbulence from atmospheric entry began to take hold. Shinji was glad for even the mediocre protection his improvised mouthguard provided, for quite a few of the expletives hurled around the chamber were from broken or cracked teeth.
Asuka activated the vox-comm on her lapel and keyed it to the shuttle's vox-caster.
"Today, men," her voice was metallic but still inspired awe. "We fight the vile orks. They scrounge and scrap on a world where the light of the emperor once burned, should still be burning. We shall take the fight to them, and we shall triumph! For we are the Astra Militarium, the Imperial Guard, the hammer of the Emperor! And I am the greatest amongst you, and I will lead you to triumph!"
Shinji watched as the altimeter began to tick down, and followed the pitch drop of the wind outside as it slid from a high, keening not to the low moan of displaced air.
10,000 meters.
9,000 meters.
8,000 meters. The air was starting to get uncomfortably warm.
7,000 meters. A lot warmer now. The ship shook more violently, as if tossed about by a giant.
6,000 meters. Everyone was sweating now. Shinji could smell metal burning from atmospheric friction.
5,000 meters. Something was said over the vox-speaker, but the wailing outside and the shriek of rending metal made it impossible to hear.
4,000 meters. Shinji saw Kensuke crack a tooth. Even over the noise, he could hear the slow whine of the plasma drives powering up.
3,000 meters. The whine of the engines grew louder, and to a feverish pitch
2,000 meters. "Br-ce-f-r-mp-t!" The voice over the vox was booming, yet still barely audible, let alone decipherable, over the cacophony.
1,000 meters. The engines fired, drowning out all other noise. Shinji felt the massive deceleration place forces on his body that it was not meant to cope with.
Shinji blacked out.
Shinji drifted into the blissful realms of unconsciousness. He felt at peace, disconnected from his painful, useless reality.
"Shinji."
"Wh-Who is it?"
"You must wake up now, Shinji."
The voice was calmly neutral, and familiar, though he could not place it.
"Wha- "
"Wake up. Now."
He did.
"And now, the sleeping princess awakens." Captain-commissar Asuka Langley Soryu's voice was the first thing Shinji heard after opening his bleary eyes. The growl of Leman Russ engines and sporadic cracks of lasgun fire were audible in the distance.
"Not uncommon for you newbies to lose consciousness on a drop. Several other of your stooges did as well. Poor you, you're the last one to get up." Her voice was pitched perfectly and made it clear that pity was the last thing on her mind. "Now get going! I'm not letting some idiot lieutenant slow down my whole frakking op!"
"Y-Y-Yes, ma'am." Shinji's swallowed hard and pressed the release button to remove the restrictor harness. He staggered out of his seat, onto the black, fertile ground.
"Lieutenant Idiot. Yes, that's about right." Shinji missed Asuka's mutterings as he threw up all over the place.
A/N Wow, that's probably the most I've written, maybe ever. I thought that I might save some of you time by giving a reference of what some of these terms and names mean, especially if you've never seen any 40k lore before. It'll be below, but review first. Please :P?
Thanks to SheriffJohnStone for beta reading this chapter. He's the guy who wrote Yui's Words; If you haven't read it before, go have a go.
Lasgun: A simple, laser-based rifle capable of dealing some serious damage. Despite this, it is one of the weakest weapons on the setting, often referred to as a "Flashlight". It is, however, reliable, easy to use, and can come in various models to suit the situation
The Warp: A extradimensional plane of pure emotion, corrupted by the Chaos Gods (maybe more on them later) and their legions of daemons. Nothing happens properly; time doesn't flow right, frequent storms happen, daemons are a thing. Did I mention daemons? Think space hell and you won't be far wrong. Also known as the immaterium.
Amasec: A catch-all name for alcohol, from fine wines to normal beer.
Audiosten: A device for playing music or other audio
Vox: Depending on the usage, it can mean varying things. On its own, it means something akin to a radio net. A vox-caster is kind of like a loudspeaker, and a vox-comm is what transmits vox messages. To vox someone is to send them a message over the vox-net.
Grox: Standard domesticated herd animal. Think scaly cow.
The Emperor or The God-Emperor: The official deity of the Imperium of man, who actually exists in a physical form. Ironically, He never wished to become a god. He sits on the Golden Throne of Terra, which is both keeping him alive, painfully, and helping him project the Astronomicon, which is kind of like a psychic beacon in the warp to prevent ships getting lost.
Xenos: Literally means 'alien', from the Greek word meaning the same thing. Plural Xenos.
Eldar: A xenos race of psychically powerful humanoids with pointed ears. Literally just space Elves.
Farseer: An eldar who has trained in being a psyker and can kind of read the future. Sort of.
Mon-keigh: The eldar name for humans. Plural Mon-keigh. Just sound it out and listen to what is sounds like. Go on. I dare you.
Servitor: A lobotomized criminal repurposed into a machine. A robot in all but name. True AI are banned, so this is the next best thing.
Hive city: Fucking massive cities that literally pierce the low atmosphere with the top. These things are gargantuan. Absolutely huge.
Cogitator: Computer. Literally just computer.
Datapad: Kind of a miniature cogitator. Much less powerful. Usually just holds small amounts of information and codes, no massive programs, calculations or amounts of information.
Gellar Field: A field of psychic energy that prevents the raw NOPE, RAGE, PAIN and FUCK YOU of the warp and literal fucking daemons from entering the ship and doing things worse than you can possibly imagine to its occupants. I mean worse than you can imagine. Much, much worse. There used to be some fluff about it being projected by the captive dreams of an enslaved, comatose psyker, but that's stupid by even 40k standards. Also Shinji would have broken in and spilled yogurt everywhere.
Psyker: A being (not just humans) able to act as a portal between the Warp and realspace and use the energy there for their own ends. Occasionally get possessed by daemons. Not a pretty sight. Think space magic. Psychic means relating to the energy these beings can manipulate.
Ork: Green skinned semi-advanced savages with a penchant for big, loud guns and large melee weapons. Loves fighting. No, scratch that. Their life is fighting. Literally just orcs in space.
Inquisitor: Spanish Inquisition in space. Unlimited authority, work outside of the law, can requisition almost anything. Trained to hunt down one specific type of enemy. Usually placed into one of the three major Ordos: Ordo Xenos, trained in hunting aliens, Ordo Malleus, trained in hunting daemons, and Ordo Hereticus, trained in rooting out cults and the like. They often cross paths and take on jobs that probably should be taken on by other Ordos. Oh well.
Frak: Used similarly to 'fuck' as a swear word. Also means to be hit, as in "Lion El'Johnson got frakked!". Not used to indicate coitus, as in "I fucked your mum."
Commissar: A political officer, with the job of maintaining morale. For this, they execute anyone who runs away viciously by shooting them in the head with a bolt pistol. I think the USSR did something similar during WW2.
The Imperium of Man or The Imperium: A galaxy-spanning empire of humans, made by humans, for humans. The most fascist, dictatorial and oppressive dystopian place to live imaginable. Imagine INSOC from 1984 and the Empire from Star Wars had a baby, had it adopted by the Nazis and the Death Eaters from Harry Potter, and then that baby grew up to make all of its parents look like saints. I am not exaggerating here. Xenophobic (have you ever seen a tyranid?), repressive and also a religious state to boot. Not racist or sexist though, so that's a plus.
Space Marine, Marine, or Adeptus Astarties: Superhuman warriors, given extra organs like another heart and another lung, and other attributes like the ability to spit acid and receive knowledge from the stuff they eat. Given some of the best war gear in the Imperium, like power armour that can shrug of anti-tank armour-piercing rounds and a semi-automatic miniaturized rocket launcher. Whatever metrics you measure them by, they are likely off the charts. Awesome, ridiculous and impractical outside of a galaxy-spanning empire. Also, there's just over a million of them. If you're a heretic, fuck you.
Chainsword: A chainsaw sword. Just as ridiculous, awesome and impractical as it sounds.
I have taken some… creative liberties with the lore, but it's all correct in the way that matters. If there's anything else that turns up, I'll probably explain it after the main A/N in later chapters.
