His Will Be Done, A Warhammer40k/Kancolle Story
- Thread starter TheMadmanAndre
- Start date
- Crossover
- Location
- United States
So here's an interesting thought.
Assuming she passes any acceptance processes and checks by the local Inquisition and Imperium, what happens when the Tech-Priests insist on performing the Rites of Maintenance?
On the one hand, multi-kilometer long vessel of war in the shipyards.
On the other hand, a young women surrounded by old men and probes.
Assuming she passes any acceptance processes and checks by the local Inquisition and Imperium, what happens when the Tech-Priests insist on performing the Rites of Maintenance?
On the one hand, multi-kilometer long vessel of war in the shipyards.
On the other hand, a young women surrounded by old men and probes.
chocolote12
A Penguin Flailing Against The Keyboard Of Life.
Her Tech-Priests proceed to perform the Rites of Maintenance? Hurray for fairies?
Or no hurray for fairies?
- Location
- Inside #191F2D
My Beta is currently away at Grad School,sadly. D:
Omake: Weird As Frak...
~Celeste~
Vampire Catgirl Extraordinaire
- Pronouns
- She/They
So... Omake?
Somewhere else...
"...they say the Warp can change you, but this? This is weird as frak."
Still staring suspiciously at her new hands, Mars-class Battlecruiser Imperious tentatively brushed a strand of bronze hair away from her face - a face dense enough to headbutt asteroids and ships, yes, but still - and took stock of her surroundings.
Nothing.
Well, nothing besides a howling, rolling maelstrom of rage, fear and despair filled with undending, undechiperable visions of past and present, with entities from beyond reason lurking at the edges of her vision.
But that was par for the course.
Her Gellar fields were plenty strong anyway.
...granted, the Huge Golden Aura of Doom surrounding her probably helped a bit.
The battlecruiser turned woman (but still somehow a battlescruiser) sighed - a brief burst of static washing over her radio emissions with the unfamiliar act.
"...right. That'd have been too easy."
And if there was a thing Imperious knew from her centuries of experience, was that nothing was easy. At least, not for her. Most ships at least had a niche they specialized in, where they could fight effectively, while she... Well, she was blindly flailing around most of the time.
Okay, so it was a surprisingly effective flailing around, given her service record, but it wasn't like she meant to pull off that stunt at Orar or anything - her crew had been just as surprised as the enemy.
Heck, her best years were those after the Gothic War, which she spent patroling the segmentum and doing absolutely nothing except crush the occasional raider - at least until she met that Ork Space Hulk, but such was life for an imperial vessel.
That's why she had been surprised when the Big Golden Guy on Terra himself decided to wake her up from her well-deserved rest, give her some cryptic instructions and this new, disconcerting, form, and leave her to twirl her hair -that in itself a novel experience- wondering what to do.
The intentions and plans of the Emperor were imperscrutable, of course, and she wouldn't be the one to doubt his plans, but couldn't he, in his endless wisdom, have at least dropped her outside the frigging Eye of Terror?
As if to prove her point, another formless shape pressed itself against the edge of her golden aura, burning up in ethereal flames before it could get close.
"Ooookay. Time to get out of here. Weapons check. Macrocannons?"
Her strange metal... rigging - vaguely reminiscent of her old ship self - thrummed and sparked with power as her guns activated one by one.
"Wait, all guns ready? Sweet. Lance turrets?"
Her hands instinctively went to her hips, where two ornate laspistols rested in their gold-decorated holsters.
"Er, check, I guess. Launch ba- no wait, no gellar fields for fighters, right. Hmm... Nova Cannon?"
She reached behind her back, drawing what looked like a large bolt pistol from yet another holster.
"A bolter, huh?" She pointed it straight ahead, then shifted her aim left and right, "Well, I guess you can't really go wrong with-"
A sharp crack and a flash of light sent the unbraced battlecruiser tumbling backwards as the gun fired, the round quickly disappearing beyond sensor range.
"...check. Friggin' thing was already loaded."
Imperious took a moment to make sure her weapon systems were still okay. Nova cannon misfires were generally bad things for everyone involved (but mostly for the unfortunate target).
Well, at least she was in the middle of friggin' nowhere. No chance to hit anything out there by mistake.
---
A few dozen light minutes away, the Carnage class chaos cruiser Murderizer, crippled in the battle for Cadia, vanished in a blinding plasma fireball.
"... well, nothing's broken, I guess. Engines are fine, too. Now I just need a reference point..."
It took a few moments of concentration before Navigation got a signal.
"Oh, The Most Glorious Couch is still broadcasting. And I can hear it, which means I'm probably at the edge of the Eye. Awesome."
She spared another look at the creatures circling at the edge of her aura, turrets tracking individual targets. "Hey losers, have to go now. See ya never. Guns, fire at will!"
The Warp space around Imperious burned as battlecruiser grade weapon batteries discharged at point-blank range, washing away her surroundings in a torrent of laser and plasma. Amidst the devastation, a new star flared to life as the ship's engines finally ignited, carrying her away in a blaze of fire and light.
She might as well see what the fuss was all about.
---
Somewhere else...
"...they say the Warp can change you, but this? This is weird as frak."
Still staring suspiciously at her new hands, Mars-class Battlecruiser Imperious tentatively brushed a strand of bronze hair away from her face - a face dense enough to headbutt asteroids and ships, yes, but still - and took stock of her surroundings.
Nothing.
Well, nothing besides a howling, rolling maelstrom of rage, fear and despair filled with undending, undechiperable visions of past and present, with entities from beyond reason lurking at the edges of her vision.
But that was par for the course.
Her Gellar fields were plenty strong anyway.
...granted, the Huge Golden Aura of Doom surrounding her probably helped a bit.
The battlecruiser turned woman (but still somehow a battlescruiser) sighed - a brief burst of static washing over her radio emissions with the unfamiliar act.
"...right. That'd have been too easy."
And if there was a thing Imperious knew from her centuries of experience, was that nothing was easy. At least, not for her. Most ships at least had a niche they specialized in, where they could fight effectively, while she... Well, she was blindly flailing around most of the time.
Okay, so it was a surprisingly effective flailing around, given her service record, but it wasn't like she meant to pull off that stunt at Orar or anything - her crew had been just as surprised as the enemy.
Heck, her best years were those after the Gothic War, which she spent patroling the segmentum and doing absolutely nothing except crush the occasional raider - at least until she met that Ork Space Hulk, but such was life for an imperial vessel.
That's why she had been surprised when the Big Golden Guy on Terra himself decided to wake her up from her well-deserved rest, give her some cryptic instructions and this new, disconcerting, form, and leave her to twirl her hair -that in itself a novel experience- wondering what to do.
The intentions and plans of the Emperor were imperscrutable, of course, and she wouldn't be the one to doubt his plans, but couldn't he, in his endless wisdom, have at least dropped her outside the frigging Eye of Terror?
As if to prove her point, another formless shape pressed itself against the edge of her golden aura, burning up in ethereal flames before it could get close.
"Ooookay. Time to get out of here. Weapons check. Macrocannons?"
Her strange metal... rigging - vaguely reminiscent of her old ship self - thrummed and sparked with power as her guns activated one by one.
"Wait, all guns ready? Sweet. Lance turrets?"
Her hands instinctively went to her hips, where two ornate laspistols rested in their gold-decorated holsters.
"Er, check, I guess. Launch ba- no wait, no gellar fields for fighters, right. Hmm... Nova Cannon?"
She reached behind her back, drawing what looked like a large bolt pistol from yet another holster.
"A bolter, huh?" She pointed it straight ahead, then shifted her aim left and right, "Well, I guess you can't really go wrong with-"
A sharp crack and a flash of light sent the unbraced battlecruiser tumbling backwards as the gun fired, the round quickly disappearing beyond sensor range.
"...check. Friggin' thing was already loaded."
Imperious took a moment to make sure her weapon systems were still okay. Nova cannon misfires were generally bad things for everyone involved (but mostly for the unfortunate target).
Well, at least she was in the middle of friggin' nowhere. No chance to hit anything out there by mistake.
---
A few dozen light minutes away, the Carnage class chaos cruiser Murderizer, crippled in the battle for Cadia, vanished in a blinding plasma fireball.
---
"... well, nothing's broken, I guess. Engines are fine, too. Now I just need a reference point..."
It took a few moments of concentration before Navigation got a signal.
"Oh, The Most Glorious Couch is still broadcasting. And I can hear it, which means I'm probably at the edge of the Eye. Awesome."
She spared another look at the creatures circling at the edge of her aura, turrets tracking individual targets. "Hey losers, have to go now. See ya never. Guns, fire at will!"
The Warp space around Imperious burned as battlecruiser grade weapon batteries discharged at point-blank range, washing away her surroundings in a torrent of laser and plasma. Amidst the devastation, a new star flared to life as the ship's engines finally ignited, carrying her away in a blaze of fire and light.
She might as well see what the fuss was all about.
Last edited:
~Celeste~
Vampire Catgirl Extraordinaire
- Pronouns
- She/They
"...Just. As. Planned."
Amazing. Do you mind if I threadmark it?
Heh. I don't think it's that amazing, but sure, of course you can threadmark it!
What about a Adeptus Astartes Shipgirl? Those ships are some of the most heavily armed in the Imperium.
Part 4
-I'm baa~aack...
Back with another update to this boat-waifu load of HERESY! people seem to love for some odd reason. Only one person has managed to figure it out too. Eh, all in good time, although I'll answer that question in a PM.
Also, I'd like to recommend the omake written by Sideral above. Definitely worth the read.
Anyways, on with the show.
The Lord Admiral strode briskly through the Legacy's corridors, and his entourage followed.
"I don't feel it is wise to meet this… this person face-to-face, my Lord," von Saeger discouraged. "I think we have both come to entertain the same possibility."
"That she is a pawn or thrall of the Ruinous Powers?" It had drifted into his considerations, yes. Although those Powers were no strangers to fighting each other if they so desired - on many occasions Quarren had been privy to situations or victories that had come to pass only because the Heretics and wretches had been too preoccupied fighting each other. One of his favorite after-action reports to read had been that of the battle of Adumbria, far away in the Ultima Segmentum. A heretical battleship had foolishly charged the orbital defenses of the world, just to teleport a handful of traitor Astartes to the surface to engage their own allies - only to be torn apart by the combined efforts of an Imperial Navy heavy cruiser and its escort fleet, as well as hundreds of merchant vessels. A lesson regarding their foolishness - unexpected and unpredictable, but if witnessed it must be capitalized upon by any means.
The woman however? She didn't fit. She didn't come off as a traitor or heretic, and openly mocked The Despoiler for all to hear. No, she was something else entirely. Even if she weren't Imperial in her nature, she was no ally of the Ruinous Powers.
In addition to his Number Two, the Legacy's ranking Techpriest, Tech-Magos Sagnum, had elected to accompany them. He was uninvited, having merely appeared from one of the Legacy's many airtight interior doors to accompany them. Quarren said nothing to dissuade the man, who'd remained silent for the brief time he'd accompanied his retinue and would likely continue to do so. Regardless, his technical expertise might be relevant, and von Saeger had likely come to the same conclusion.
Also accompanying them were three dozen or so hand-picked Security Officers, armed with an assortment of autoguns, lasguns and shotguns. He also glimpsed a mixture of krak and frag grenades clipped to their webbing that had been hastily strapped over their dress uniforms, and a meltagun held in the hands of one of Sergeants. Although, if his niggling suspicions were correct, none of it might even matter.
In what felt like moments they had arrived to the Legacy's starboard-side voidcraft deck, the utterly cavernous chamber serving as the reception room for the strange woman. It was relatively empty, its oil-stained floor vacant save for a handful of shuttlecraft alongside a solitary dromon. The chamber was dominated by a crackling void shield, protecting it from the harshness of the space beyond. Quarren and his retinue moved to the rough center of the most open area, to wait for the woman to arrive and whatever would come of it.
And arrive she did. "She comes," von Saeger spoke, the first to glimpse her through the void field. Quarren saw her too and he briefly exhaled. His eyes weren't fooling him.
She approached seemingly naked to the void, initially unsure it had seemed before she floated up to the hangar and slipped through the shield. Only then did Quarren became aware of the uneasy silence that had descended over the voidcraft deck as the woman settled to rest upon it, seemingly as light as a feather and wreathed by a strange yet familiar faint golden halo of light. She was armed, a Navy-issue cutlass power-sword, twin ornate laspistols and an even more ornate boltgun all sheathed and holstered. And then the Lord Admiral glimpsed her face.
Stunning. Quarren decided then and there that she was possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon, even counting his two centuries of life and service to the Emperor. High cheekbones, full lips, a pair of the most brilliantly shining crystal-blue eyes he'd ever seen. A noble face, all of it framed by a full smile and golden blonde hair, tied into a single long braid that descended to her waist. And she was tall. Taller than any other man or woman on the deck, nearly as tall as an Astartes - easily over seven feet in height and just as utterly imposing as any of the Emperor's Angels of Death. She... was an utterly peak example of the human species. By all accounts a metric that many would fall short of.
Or perhaps her tremendously imposing figure had something to do with the crisp, ornate uniform she wore, the kind worn by the flag officers and Admiralty of Segmentum Solar - a uniform that was expertly and form-fittingly tailored, that only accented her curves - and her bosom. Said bosom emblazoned with a brilliant golden Aquila, not entirely unlike the Prow of an Apocalypse battleship she claimed association with.
And then there was the ship parts attached to that uniform. Or at least what looked to be parts of a ship. Miniaturized dual halves of the great hull of an Apocalypse-class battleship wrapped around her waist, the miniaturized nacelled engines of such clipped to her ankles and Navy-issue boots. What appeared to be the superstructure, tiny cathedral spires rising up above and behind her, all of it affixed to her back not unlike the power supply of Astartes-grade power armor.
Were they props or models of some kind? He was suddenly reminded of how many years before, in the upper reaches of the spires of Cadia's Capitol Hive, he'd come across a sort of hobby shop that sold scale models of many sorts of Imperial vehicles and spacecraft. They had come in many sizes, ranging from smaller than his palm to mantleplace-spanning affairs. He'd once considered commissioning something of the sort, for his long-time friend Admiral von Saeger as a sort of betrothal present when he'd tied the knot with his wife, before learning he'd already had one of his ship. A model cast of gold and gem-studded no less.
Or perhaps her outfit was some sort of archaeotech armor, unusually fashioned and its make lost to time? The fact that she'd flown into the voidcraft hangar under her own power wasn't lost on him, nor the fact that she had apparently taken to space without so much as a protective void suit. Something like the crackling energy void-fields of the Hangar bay? He saw no bubble of void energy, although it was possible it was inactive. And then there was that golden halo that was about her, ever-present yet seemingly impossible for his eyes to focus on. Strange...
So as jarring as the sight of the strange woman and her piecemeal battleship outfit was, her voice was almost as much. "I... hello, my Lord Admiral. I am His Will, third ship of my class, the Apocalypse. It is a pleasure to meet you, and thank you for allowing me aboard your vessel." As she spoke she bowed, slightly but graciously, mindful of the... assemblage? She was ensconced in, as it would have collided with the hangar deck if she'd bowed fully.
Her voice, honeyed and smooth. Hearing it first-hand was a far cry from the crackling unsteady tinn of a worn vox-speaker, and spoken with regalia and custom unlike her earlier banter and taunting. Quarren took a moment to compose his thoughts and a reply. "Of course. Although, that begs the question as to who you are exactly, and what it is that you're... wearing."
She seemed perplexed, briefly glancing down her breasts at her uniform. "But I have told you who and what I am, my Lord Admiral." She shook her head, the whole battleship assembly she wore shook ever so slightly with her as she did. Quarren realized with a tinge of alarm that they were far from inanimate - the tiny little double - and triple-linked Lance batteries and the dorsal secondaries twitched ever so slightly, tracking the assembled Security retinue that was formed up around them in a loose semi-circle, weapons at the ready. If those were real… That much firepower, inside of the Legacy...
"What the Lord Admiral is attempting to say milady, is that you clearly aren't a battleship," von Saeger interjected. "And as much as I and everyone would gladly thank you for your actions today, this charade is somewhat childish." He took a step forward, gesturing to those present. "We'd prefer a modicum of seriousness."
The woman scowled. "I am His Will," her eyes narrowed slightly. "You are…"
"Vice Admiral von Saeger, Captain of the Battleship whose deck you stand upon. And the His Will was lost with all hands a year ago in the Armageddon Sector. So girl, this charade of pretending to be a battleship merely sullies that vessel's name and the name of its Captain, and is not something I can willingly play along with."
"Sully? You... Why you-" The woman pointed a long gloved arm and finger at von Saeger and Quarren saw every turret that could follow her gesture swivel to aim at the Vice Admiral "-You insolent- I am His Will, and I've done nothing of the sort to sully Admiral Parol's name! He- We died, protecting Armageddon!"
His security detail finally caught on that the woman's ship parts might be dangerous and raised their weapons, and Quarren realized the situation was becoming heated and would likely soon turn violent - he had to think fast.
"Everyone, enough." His best and most authoritarian voice, spoken by someone who commanded millions. It worked.
Von Saeger stood his ground, heedless of a broadside's worth of Lances aimed at him. The woman claiming to be a dead warship held as well, as did three dozen Security officers. "von Saeger, His Will, both of you stand down. I won't tolerate violence between those under my command. If you seek to sort out differences, leave that to the dueling ring." To his credit, von Saeger took a step back, and he saw the woman's weapons swivel away. She dropped her arm, crossing it with the other and glanced away from the Vice Admiral. Good, for the moment.
"Of course, My Lord. I apologize for that… outburst."
"As do I." His Will, or perhaps just Will, looked almost bashful.
"And you, my Lady," Quarren gestured to the woman. "You claim to have known the late Admiral Parol?"
She looked up, nodded. "Of course, he was my Admiral. He commanded me for just a few months, but…" She trailed off, an almost distant look flashing across her face. "He chose me, when Triumph could no longer carry on."
He was treading along a precipice. Quarren was exceedingly careful then, in how he chose his next words. "So, it is fair to say that you currently lack a command structure, or a commanding officer of any sort?"
The woman, His Will, nodded. "Yes, my Lord. I… this is all a little overwhelming for a humble battleship such as I." Humble. Battleship. Not two words he'd readily expect to be in the same sentence.
He considered the massive battle that had raged for the last several days. His willingness to throw himself onto the burning pyre that was the Planet Killer. And the woman before him, an in-all-likelihood Emperor-sent miracle at the eleventh hour of Cadia. It was what he took into account, as he spoke the next question. "Are you loyal to the God Emperor of Mankind? And will you fight to the last breath in his name?"
She nodded, crystal-blue eyes firm and unflinching. "I have never wavered, not once, in my loyalty to the God Emperor. It's by His will that I stand here to fight again."
It took everything Quarren had not to grin. He had his composure to maintain. "That that settles it, for me at least." He raised an arm, gesturing to the woman - the battleship - before him. "As Lord Admiral of Battlefleet Cadia, effective immediately, I hereby place you under my command, in the name of the Lord Emperor our God. Are you willing to fight to protect all he holds dear, His Will?"
It looked as if she'd been awestruck for a moment, before her face became strict. In a startling flash of golden light the ship parts attached to her vanished, brilliant golden motes fading into nothing. Von Saeger took a step back, eyes wide, gesturing the sign of the Aquila. By some miracle none of the Security officers lost their composure, although there were mutterings of "By the Emperor" here and there.
And amongst it all, Will collapsed to a knee, bowing to him, resplendent in her uniform. "Yes, my Lord Admiral. It is an honor to serve."
It took every ounce of composure Lord Admiral Quarren had not to either collapse in relief or cry out in joy.
And then the Tech-Magos, having been forgotten about since the beginning of the affair in the voidcraft hangar, strode through the line of Security officers heedless of their protests, right up to His Will, and his distorted and electronic voice filled the air in a thunderous screech.
"I- Just- By the Machine God what are you!?"
Author's Note: In the grimdark grimdark of the grimdark grimdark, Games Workshop is still somehow clinging to life. Also, cue the Magos freaking the frak out.
Back with another update to this boat-waifu load of HERESY! people seem to love for some odd reason. Only one person has managed to figure it out too. Eh, all in good time, although I'll answer that question in a PM.
Also, I'd like to recommend the omake written by Sideral above. Definitely worth the read.
Anyways, on with the show.
----==== ][ ====----
The Lord Admiral strode briskly through the Legacy's corridors, and his entourage followed.
"I don't feel it is wise to meet this… this person face-to-face, my Lord," von Saeger discouraged. "I think we have both come to entertain the same possibility."
"That she is a pawn or thrall of the Ruinous Powers?" It had drifted into his considerations, yes. Although those Powers were no strangers to fighting each other if they so desired - on many occasions Quarren had been privy to situations or victories that had come to pass only because the Heretics and wretches had been too preoccupied fighting each other. One of his favorite after-action reports to read had been that of the battle of Adumbria, far away in the Ultima Segmentum. A heretical battleship had foolishly charged the orbital defenses of the world, just to teleport a handful of traitor Astartes to the surface to engage their own allies - only to be torn apart by the combined efforts of an Imperial Navy heavy cruiser and its escort fleet, as well as hundreds of merchant vessels. A lesson regarding their foolishness - unexpected and unpredictable, but if witnessed it must be capitalized upon by any means.
The woman however? She didn't fit. She didn't come off as a traitor or heretic, and openly mocked The Despoiler for all to hear. No, she was something else entirely. Even if she weren't Imperial in her nature, she was no ally of the Ruinous Powers.
In addition to his Number Two, the Legacy's ranking Techpriest, Tech-Magos Sagnum, had elected to accompany them. He was uninvited, having merely appeared from one of the Legacy's many airtight interior doors to accompany them. Quarren said nothing to dissuade the man, who'd remained silent for the brief time he'd accompanied his retinue and would likely continue to do so. Regardless, his technical expertise might be relevant, and von Saeger had likely come to the same conclusion.
Also accompanying them were three dozen or so hand-picked Security Officers, armed with an assortment of autoguns, lasguns and shotguns. He also glimpsed a mixture of krak and frag grenades clipped to their webbing that had been hastily strapped over their dress uniforms, and a meltagun held in the hands of one of Sergeants. Although, if his niggling suspicions were correct, none of it might even matter.
In what felt like moments they had arrived to the Legacy's starboard-side voidcraft deck, the utterly cavernous chamber serving as the reception room for the strange woman. It was relatively empty, its oil-stained floor vacant save for a handful of shuttlecraft alongside a solitary dromon. The chamber was dominated by a crackling void shield, protecting it from the harshness of the space beyond. Quarren and his retinue moved to the rough center of the most open area, to wait for the woman to arrive and whatever would come of it.
And arrive she did. "She comes," von Saeger spoke, the first to glimpse her through the void field. Quarren saw her too and he briefly exhaled. His eyes weren't fooling him.
She approached seemingly naked to the void, initially unsure it had seemed before she floated up to the hangar and slipped through the shield. Only then did Quarren became aware of the uneasy silence that had descended over the voidcraft deck as the woman settled to rest upon it, seemingly as light as a feather and wreathed by a strange yet familiar faint golden halo of light. She was armed, a Navy-issue cutlass power-sword, twin ornate laspistols and an even more ornate boltgun all sheathed and holstered. And then the Lord Admiral glimpsed her face.
Stunning. Quarren decided then and there that she was possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon, even counting his two centuries of life and service to the Emperor. High cheekbones, full lips, a pair of the most brilliantly shining crystal-blue eyes he'd ever seen. A noble face, all of it framed by a full smile and golden blonde hair, tied into a single long braid that descended to her waist. And she was tall. Taller than any other man or woman on the deck, nearly as tall as an Astartes - easily over seven feet in height and just as utterly imposing as any of the Emperor's Angels of Death. She... was an utterly peak example of the human species. By all accounts a metric that many would fall short of.
Or perhaps her tremendously imposing figure had something to do with the crisp, ornate uniform she wore, the kind worn by the flag officers and Admiralty of Segmentum Solar - a uniform that was expertly and form-fittingly tailored, that only accented her curves - and her bosom. Said bosom emblazoned with a brilliant golden Aquila, not entirely unlike the Prow of an Apocalypse battleship she claimed association with.
And then there was the ship parts attached to that uniform. Or at least what looked to be parts of a ship. Miniaturized dual halves of the great hull of an Apocalypse-class battleship wrapped around her waist, the miniaturized nacelled engines of such clipped to her ankles and Navy-issue boots. What appeared to be the superstructure, tiny cathedral spires rising up above and behind her, all of it affixed to her back not unlike the power supply of Astartes-grade power armor.
Were they props or models of some kind? He was suddenly reminded of how many years before, in the upper reaches of the spires of Cadia's Capitol Hive, he'd come across a sort of hobby shop that sold scale models of many sorts of Imperial vehicles and spacecraft. They had come in many sizes, ranging from smaller than his palm to mantleplace-spanning affairs. He'd once considered commissioning something of the sort, for his long-time friend Admiral von Saeger as a sort of betrothal present when he'd tied the knot with his wife, before learning he'd already had one of his ship. A model cast of gold and gem-studded no less.
Or perhaps her outfit was some sort of archaeotech armor, unusually fashioned and its make lost to time? The fact that she'd flown into the voidcraft hangar under her own power wasn't lost on him, nor the fact that she had apparently taken to space without so much as a protective void suit. Something like the crackling energy void-fields of the Hangar bay? He saw no bubble of void energy, although it was possible it was inactive. And then there was that golden halo that was about her, ever-present yet seemingly impossible for his eyes to focus on. Strange...
So as jarring as the sight of the strange woman and her piecemeal battleship outfit was, her voice was almost as much. "I... hello, my Lord Admiral. I am His Will, third ship of my class, the Apocalypse. It is a pleasure to meet you, and thank you for allowing me aboard your vessel." As she spoke she bowed, slightly but graciously, mindful of the... assemblage? She was ensconced in, as it would have collided with the hangar deck if she'd bowed fully.
Her voice, honeyed and smooth. Hearing it first-hand was a far cry from the crackling unsteady tinn of a worn vox-speaker, and spoken with regalia and custom unlike her earlier banter and taunting. Quarren took a moment to compose his thoughts and a reply. "Of course. Although, that begs the question as to who you are exactly, and what it is that you're... wearing."
She seemed perplexed, briefly glancing down her breasts at her uniform. "But I have told you who and what I am, my Lord Admiral." She shook her head, the whole battleship assembly she wore shook ever so slightly with her as she did. Quarren realized with a tinge of alarm that they were far from inanimate - the tiny little double - and triple-linked Lance batteries and the dorsal secondaries twitched ever so slightly, tracking the assembled Security retinue that was formed up around them in a loose semi-circle, weapons at the ready. If those were real… That much firepower, inside of the Legacy...
"What the Lord Admiral is attempting to say milady, is that you clearly aren't a battleship," von Saeger interjected. "And as much as I and everyone would gladly thank you for your actions today, this charade is somewhat childish." He took a step forward, gesturing to those present. "We'd prefer a modicum of seriousness."
The woman scowled. "I am His Will," her eyes narrowed slightly. "You are…"
"Vice Admiral von Saeger, Captain of the Battleship whose deck you stand upon. And the His Will was lost with all hands a year ago in the Armageddon Sector. So girl, this charade of pretending to be a battleship merely sullies that vessel's name and the name of its Captain, and is not something I can willingly play along with."
"Sully? You... Why you-" The woman pointed a long gloved arm and finger at von Saeger and Quarren saw every turret that could follow her gesture swivel to aim at the Vice Admiral "-You insolent- I am His Will, and I've done nothing of the sort to sully Admiral Parol's name! He- We died, protecting Armageddon!"
His security detail finally caught on that the woman's ship parts might be dangerous and raised their weapons, and Quarren realized the situation was becoming heated and would likely soon turn violent - he had to think fast.
"Everyone, enough." His best and most authoritarian voice, spoken by someone who commanded millions. It worked.
Von Saeger stood his ground, heedless of a broadside's worth of Lances aimed at him. The woman claiming to be a dead warship held as well, as did three dozen Security officers. "von Saeger, His Will, both of you stand down. I won't tolerate violence between those under my command. If you seek to sort out differences, leave that to the dueling ring." To his credit, von Saeger took a step back, and he saw the woman's weapons swivel away. She dropped her arm, crossing it with the other and glanced away from the Vice Admiral. Good, for the moment.
"Of course, My Lord. I apologize for that… outburst."
"As do I." His Will, or perhaps just Will, looked almost bashful.
"And you, my Lady," Quarren gestured to the woman. "You claim to have known the late Admiral Parol?"
She looked up, nodded. "Of course, he was my Admiral. He commanded me for just a few months, but…" She trailed off, an almost distant look flashing across her face. "He chose me, when Triumph could no longer carry on."
He was treading along a precipice. Quarren was exceedingly careful then, in how he chose his next words. "So, it is fair to say that you currently lack a command structure, or a commanding officer of any sort?"
The woman, His Will, nodded. "Yes, my Lord. I… this is all a little overwhelming for a humble battleship such as I." Humble. Battleship. Not two words he'd readily expect to be in the same sentence.
He considered the massive battle that had raged for the last several days. His willingness to throw himself onto the burning pyre that was the Planet Killer. And the woman before him, an in-all-likelihood Emperor-sent miracle at the eleventh hour of Cadia. It was what he took into account, as he spoke the next question. "Are you loyal to the God Emperor of Mankind? And will you fight to the last breath in his name?"
She nodded, crystal-blue eyes firm and unflinching. "I have never wavered, not once, in my loyalty to the God Emperor. It's by His will that I stand here to fight again."
It took everything Quarren had not to grin. He had his composure to maintain. "That that settles it, for me at least." He raised an arm, gesturing to the woman - the battleship - before him. "As Lord Admiral of Battlefleet Cadia, effective immediately, I hereby place you under my command, in the name of the Lord Emperor our God. Are you willing to fight to protect all he holds dear, His Will?"
It looked as if she'd been awestruck for a moment, before her face became strict. In a startling flash of golden light the ship parts attached to her vanished, brilliant golden motes fading into nothing. Von Saeger took a step back, eyes wide, gesturing the sign of the Aquila. By some miracle none of the Security officers lost their composure, although there were mutterings of "By the Emperor" here and there.
And amongst it all, Will collapsed to a knee, bowing to him, resplendent in her uniform. "Yes, my Lord Admiral. It is an honor to serve."
It took every ounce of composure Lord Admiral Quarren had not to either collapse in relief or cry out in joy.
And then the Tech-Magos, having been forgotten about since the beginning of the affair in the voidcraft hangar, strode through the line of Security officers heedless of their protests, right up to His Will, and his distorted and electronic voice filled the air in a thunderous screech.
"I- Just- By the Machine God what are you!?"
----==== ][ ====----
Author's Note: In the grimdark grimdark of the grimdark grimdark, Games Workshop is still somehow clinging to life. Also, cue the Magos freaking the frak out.
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chocolote12
A Penguin Flailing Against The Keyboard Of Life.
Talk about dat Fairy Radio.
He either going to pass out or explode in a flurry of sparks. This might be the most emotions the Magos has felt in a while.
Syqadelic
That's not a mountain.
- Location
- Earth
Are you kidding me? This is a magos's wet dream. A machine spirit that has gained sapience in such a way that they have not become an AI, but have achieved apotheosis and become human.
So basically it loops around from being a machine to being a human?
A new intertwined being? The Magos would be gushing at the very thought of it.
- Location
- Inside #191F2D
Y'know line is kinda interesting, "As she spoke she bowed, slightly but graciously, mindful of the... assemblage? She was ensconced in, as it would have collided with the hangar deck if she'd bowed fully", what would happen if it touched the ships hull. Would it be equivalent to battleship 'slightly' violent ship-to-ship contact or would be a something equivalent to full-on ramming within the ship itself. 
Part 5
Hello you sorrid lot of genestealing heretics, it's your man, the Madman. This Part's taken a wee bit longer than initially anticipated, but here it is, for your viewing pleasure: yet another heaping helping of HERESY. Fasten your seatbelts, place the in-flight trays in the stowed positions, and enjoy.----==== ][ ====----
"You!" The Magos bellowed, mere inches from Will's face, "How!? How are you Possible!?" his tone of voice was impressive, she noted, as the man lacked a mouth and face, or, in all likelihood, anything resembling vocal chords. It was hard to tell through the robes, and while he was yelling at her at max volume.
She recoiled from the angry man's verbal assault, taking a full step back even as he stepped forward to match her movement. "I am His Will, Apocalypse-class battleship and third of my cl-"
"What? No!" He cut her off. "You can't be a warship! That doesn't make any sense! That's impossible!"
"Magos-"
"It's a paradox of the highest order! It's tech-heresy! It's"
"Magos!"
"-an insult to the Omnissiah himself!"
"Magos Sagnum!" Lord Admiral Quarren bellowed, with a degree of volume that belied his size. The hangar rang with his words, as if the ship itself was quaking in fear. Stomping over to the Magos Technicus, he grabbed him by the hood of his cloak and yanking him backward, away from Will and physically imposing himself between them. "Enough of this!"
"Enough? How!?" the Techpriest recovered. "How can you allow this, this abomination, aboard this ship!?"
"How? You want to know frakking how?!" The Lord Admiral's voice rose an octave further still. "She is the reason we are all still alive!"
"She is the-"
"Enough!" Quarren threw an arm up, a finger pointed at the exit. "Out of my sight, Magos. Now."
"You think that-"
Abruptly Quarren became deathly quiet, eyes narrowing. "You can either rant and rave in the Enginarium, Magos Technicus Sagnum, or you will do so in the Brig. If not on the firing line."
"I- I…" The robed Magos went silent. Perhaps as he understood the gravity of who he was talking to. A proverbial candle to a blaze. He gave the briefest of glances to Will, still reeling from the abrupt confrontation, before turning and wordlessly exiting the hangar deck. None of the security detail hindered him, thankfully, themselves still undoubtedly shocked at the confrontation that had just transpired.
"I… Well… that just happened," von Saeger abruptly stated. "I've never seen that man react that way, ever." A gloved hand went to the bridge of his nose, rubbing it as he spoke. "This is frighteningly embarrassing. To a degree I'm not comfortable with."
Quarren agreed. He knew - had previously known - of the Tech-Magos as being completely level headed and composed. He was the last person Quarren had ever expected to suffer a meltdown. Especially one of that magnitude. "I hope he has a genuinely good reason for his outburst. For his sake."
Will for her part couldn't help but feel almost bashful. Which to another might be considered impressive, considering her far-from-diminutive height. "I'm sorry, my Lord, I didn't mean to do… whatever it is I must have done to displease him," Will said.
"Don't apologise," He cut her off. "You did absolutely nothing wrong, my dear. I will reprimand the Magos personally, don't trouble yourself over it."
"My Lord, allow me," von Saeger interjected. "I've known Magos Sagnum since he came aboard, whatever caused, could have caused such an outburst-"
Quarren sighed, heavily. There was too much going on at once. "Just get to the bottom of it. But later," he spoke. "Right now, I- no, we need to discuss matters with the young Miss Will here. Preferably somewhere more comfortable and amenable to private discussions."
"Main conference chamber, my Lord?"
"Yes, that would be most appropriate." Quarren gestured towards the exit. "Care to join us, my Lady?"
Will nodded, smiling. "Yes, I would."
----==== ][ ====----
"I imagine that you might wish to seek rest and relaxation after such a battle," Quarren spoke as he led her through the corridors of the Legacy.
Behind them, the security detail followed, distancing themselves from the trio and allowing them a modicum of separation. With the potential unknowns and the dangers associated with such having passed, they were there mostly as a formality. Or at least, that's how Will viewed them. It's how she- how her crew would have treated unexpected guests.
"In due time, of course, but first I would prefer to have you properly debriefed. To be quite frank my Lady, a great many more people than myself are going to want a proper account of today's events, and the sooner I can draft one to paper and parchment, the better. With your help of course."
Will nodded. "Yes, my Lord Admiral." A pang of… something coursed briefly through her belly, small and relatively insignificant but painful all the same. She brought a hand to her stomach, massaging where she felt her storage chambers and supply lockers were. Come to think of it, she was starting to run dangerously low on supplies and fuel. She'd need to restock soon, to placate her Supply Faeries. They were getting disgruntled, but hadn't quite reached the point of mutiny. Not yet at least.
She sensed that her Admiral had seen her discomfort, but he said nothing. Perhaps he was unsure of how to broach the subject? She had wanted to ask to take on supplies when she had landed in the hangar, but… stuff had happened. As they walked she kept her gait calm and measured, pacing herself with her Admiral, all the more keenly aware of just how much taller she seemed to be compared to her Admiral. Compared to literally everyone else she'd so far encountered, it seemed.
Moments later they arrived at their destination, the main conference chambers of the Legacy. Striding forward the Lord Admiral pushed the large double doors open, each swinging silently inward. The chamber was vaulted, like so many of the Legacy's more luxurious compartments and quarters, and not entirely unlike the comparable chambers aboard herself. A series of high-backed chairs, not so much chairs as they were miniature thrones, ringed a truly massive wooden table. The table itself was roughly oval-shaped and hewn from some of the finest hardwoods the forests of Cadia undoubtedly had to offer, as were the richly wood-paneled walls of the chamber itself. Quarren took a seat at the end of the table, in a throne-chair substantially more opulent than the others while gesturing to those chairs closest to his. Initially hesitant, Will took a seat in the nearest to his left, as Admiral von Saeger sat opposite her and to his right.
The Lord Admiral leaned forward, tapping a single button on an inset panel in the table before him, the button glowing green as he did. He gave a moment for his fellows to settle into their seats, so to speak, before beginning. "So Will, I'll go ahead and allow you to start," he spoke. "Please, from the beginning."
"The beginning?" she questioned.
Quarren nodded and leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "In your words."
The beginning. "Well, umm," Will began, "I was- my keel was laid down in the Ring of Iron, around Mars approximately 980 or so, M31. I was completed roughly eleven years later, just in time to join the Great Crusade with my Emperor."
"…What?" von Saeger deadpanned. "Great Crusade?"
Will shrank slightly into the plush throne. "Yes. I… remember it, almost like it was yesterday. It's… weird, you asked me for the beginning, and that is the beginning for me."
Quarren blinked. Slowly, carefully, as if to help him process what he was hearing. "Okay. Well, let's start with today, before we digress into something not quite as… directly relevant. Today, start from today."
Will curled up, and somehow sank more deeply into her chair. Somehow. Will knew that these chairs were quite, well, plush, but what she was experiencing didn't seem possible. "I… was dead today. And then I wasn't. My… my chronometer is a year out of date. It stopped the moment I… that I…" she trailed off. She felt tears welling up from the corners of her eyes.
"Dead?"
Her gaze wandered, away from the Lord Admiral, out into empty space. "He… He called me back. And I came back. And here I am."
Quarren was silent for a long and uncomfortable moment. "Alright then…" She was unsure if he believed her, or whether or not he thought she was crazy and was simply keeping silent on it. She didn't blame him either, if he thought such.
"Well, To give a more precise moment in time, let's start from the moment you appeared in the Cadia system," von Saeger interjected, breaking the silence. "From when you faced off against the Planet Killer."
Will nodded, continuing. "I was… alive again. In a way I had never thought possible. And then I was under attack. I responded in kind, and then I heard him. Taunting me."
"The Despoiler?"
"Yes, my Lord. Abaddon." She blinked, remembering. "I… I might have acted… unbecoming of one such as my class."
"Unbecoming, you say." Quarren thought back, just a scant few hours ago, to her banter broadcast for the whole system to hear. "Fair enough. You assaulted and then crashed into Abbadon's flagship, and we, well, lost contact."
"I fought him, on the Bridge of his own ship." Quarren's intake of air was audible. "Well, it wasn't much of a ship at that point." She let a little snark slip into her voice. "It had a lot of holes in it."
"Continue."
"Of course. We dueled, sword-to-sword. I won of course, easily overpowering and disarming him." Will left out the word 'literally' there, at the end. She wasn't sure how to exactly explain it in a way that sounded believable to her. "However, the Despoiler escaped, teleported away. Presumably to another ship in his fleet." She realized that her trophies were still sitting in her hangar bay, dumped unceremoniously on the deck and a ring of sentries posted around them. Watching, in case they sprouted legs or something. She wasn't sure why her security Faeries came to that reasoning, but who knew with them.
"So he still lives then. A shame."
"I am sorry, my Admiral."
"I asked you not to apologize Will," he stated calmly. "What you've done today is something I doubt anybody will be able to ever repay you for. Again, thank you."
She saw him smile at her, and that was all she needed for her to smile back. "No my Admiral, thank you."
"My Lady, you mentioned 'Him' a few moments ago, von Saeger spoke. "By 'Him,' you don't mean what I think you mean, do you?"
Will turned to the Vice Admiral across from her. "What do you think I meant?"
"The way you phrased it, sounds an awful lot like you... were speaking of our God Emperor."
Will nodded. "I am His will made manifest. It is by His will, His word, that I am here, alive once again to fight."
For a long, pregnant moment neither of the two men said anything. They looked to each other, and then back to Will. And then Lord Admiral Quarren exhaled, long and shakily.
"Huh. Well, I suppose that would explain some things," he spoke.
----==== ][ ====----
Author's note: If you think the Magos' freakout was bad, wait until you see the Inquisitor's.
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Highwind
To Rise From The Ashes
- Location
- Brazil
I'm certain it'll be something beautiful to behold. :lolAuthor's note: If you think the Magos' freakout was bad, wait until you see the Inquisitor's.
Robo Jesus
Your Mechanical Messiah
As I said elsewhere, most Inquisitors are gonna freak even without any (personal) religious beliefs added into things considering how much potential for "Shit that can go wrong" the shipgirls add to things inside of the Imperium here. I mean, in the event of any issues, is it the Adeptus Mechanicus, Naval Fleet, or Ecclesiarchy who holds sway or seniority in things? That alone puts those three groups into major potential conflict with eachother here over things should they go wrong.
So yeah, the Inquisitors have a lot of reason to worry here, and that's long before "Heresy/Chaos" ever shows up.
Highwind
To Rise From The Ashes
- Location
- Brazil
I kinda pity the Inquisition. The poor guys already have so much shit to deal with on their plates and then their boss decides to add Dealing With Incarnated Machine Spirits of Imperial Warships to the pile. I wouldn't be surprised if some of the Inquisitors start tearing their hair out when the inevitable shenanigans start happening.