This will be the base for all the short fiction that i write along with my DA account
. So here's the first of my non TGC written tales. C and C welcome as always.
The Oraxes Incident
"This is Oraxes automated distress beacon, please assist. This is…"
Karmine Mitrani was worried. As an orbit-clerk on Oraxes, he had dealt with many members of the Imperial military but this was his first Astartes, and on first impressions alone, it was not going well. The Astartes had disembarked from his craft and thanks to his unique nature; no one on Oraxes had known what to do with him, ending up with him now being dumped on Karmine as the best man for the job. He so far had volunteered his name, Hortas and little else. Apparently the hololiths lied in their portrayals or maybe it was just this one but there seemed to be little that could be seen as angelic. A giant in midnight blue armour, a winged skull emblazoning his shoulder, and what Karmine hoped to be plastacel skulls chained to his armour; if anything Hortas seemed more devil than angel. Despite his lack of knowledge on Astartes legions, a result of Oraxes' isolation from the greater Imperium, Karmine could guess at the legion identity stood before him, the Night Lords. Everything about Hortas fitted with the vague tales of the VIIIth Legion but his eyes, black as jet yet seemingly filled with sadness and loss, he had never seen the like.
"Might I ask for your rank, sir? For my records, you see" Karmine inquired.
"You may. I am hunt-captain of Shriek Claw, also known as 'Sevetar's Blades'."
"Thank you lord", newfound respect entering Karmine's voice. The name Sevetarion Jago, First-Captain of the VIII was well known throughout the emergent Imperium, rarely with good cause and any warrior who answered to him was one to be feared and respected.
"This information worries you, clerk?"
"Honestly, yes lord. Your commander's name is legend; I would be a fool if it did not inspire some trepidation."
"I understand. Nostramo breeds our like from birth."
"Our like, lord?"
Hortas' mouth curled upwards into a half smile. "Yes, our like, clerk. Sevetar is the norm in the VIIIth, rather than the exception. But don't worry, I won't harm you."
"Um, thank you. So what is it you require from myself and Oraxes?"
"We will get to that in a moment, clerk. I await a response from my brothers in orbit. So until then, I think we will talk."
Moments later, Hortas tapped his ear before nodding briefly and sub-vocalising "acknowledged."
"Everything alright, sir?"
"Yes clerk, just my brothers checking in from their respective missions."
He strode towards the viewing ports, silhouetted against the clouds and orange sky behind him. "Impressive view, clerk. I can imagine it does not age."
"No lord, it does not." Karmine wondered briefly where these slightly strange comments were going. But what was the harm of answering?
"So clerk, explain to me your role on this world."
"What do you wish to know?"
"Your title is Orbit-Clerk, correct? What does that entail?"
"Very well then. My role is to catalogue all civilian and military orbital traffic which come to Oraxes. In addition, I am the liaison between the surface authorities and those travellers in orbit."
"I see. So for example, you have records of all Imperial vessels that passed though this system recently, what supplies they took on and their destination." Though he could not see Hortas's face, Karmine sensed his smile. "As an extreme example."
"Yes I suppose so, lord. My records should have that sort of information within. Do you wish to see them?"
"No, that will not be needed. My armour cogniter has already done so. I just wished to check I had found the correct person."
"I…I'm not sure I like that". Karmine sensed his rising annoyance but forced it down. "You could at least have asked permission before doing…whatever you just said."
Glancing at Karmine in the window reflection, Hortas smirked. "Interesting, you did not refer to me as lord just then, emotion breeds disrespect. In answer to your comment, do I look like I ever need to ask permission for anything?"
Something in Hortas' eyes and words warned Karmine to not pursue the matter further. Hortas' next words surprised him though. "Though I need not ask permission, I am not so removed that I do not understand your feelings right now so I…apologise, that is the word yes?"
"Yes that is the word. I…thank you for that, lord. And I suppose that the Emperor's work takes precedence over my feelings."
Again the smirk rose on Hortas's face but this time it seemed less genuine, in Karmine's opinion. "Indeed, clerk. The Emperor's work."
"Have I offended you, lord?"
"No clerk, it is just that I have not thought of myself as doing the Emperor's work in a long while. But no matter."
"Lord, a priority signal coming through for you. From your ship." The signal strength threatened to wipe out Karmine's desk cogniter though it's power.
"Thank you, Karmine. Patch it though to vox channel magenta-epsilon-argent." Hortas tapped his ear, clearly where his comm-bead lay. "This is Hortas."
In a flash of understanding, Karmine realised who was likely to be on the other end of that channel. He didn't feel quite so happy about fielding the signal now.
For a minute or two, the pair stood in silence; Hortas a statuesque silhouette against the window listening to his master, Karmine poised next to his desk, waiting for Hortas to finish. Finally Hortas spoke again.
"No, First-Captain, I think we have what we needed. Shriek Claw will extract momentarily. You can begin the bombardment. Glory to the Warmaster, Hortas out. And as for you clerk, I thank you for your assistance."
With a snap, Karmine's mind finally caught on to Hortas's words "Wait, what did you just say, my lord? About bombardment and the Warmaster"
Hortas turned and stepped towards him, unsheathing his combat knife, his dark eyes boring into Karimine's. "I'm sorry, clerk but this must be done. Croshia sey, little man."
"This is Oraxes automated…"[U][U][U][SIZE=7][SIZE=14]