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Tales of the Expanse (me and DuxT)

Joined
Oct 25, 2009
Location
Australia
The bridge was a bustle of activity; voices filling the vaulted space as course corrections were made and fluctuations in the Gellar Field smoothed out. Members of the ship's priesthood paced the edges of the room, incense burners in hand as they recited prayers to protect the vessel for the upcoming transition to real-space while their counterparts in the Tech-Priesthood did the same for the ranks of cogitator banks. About the only one missing from the bridge was the Lord-Captain himself.

With just a few minutes before the translation, though, the door opened and Lord-Captain Jacob Morek strode onto the bridge of his ship. Standing at about 5'8", Lord Morek looked the part of a naval officer (albeit being the first Warrant Holder of the Dynasty in generations to have not actually served in the Navy); though replacing the traditional naval overcoat with a large, black greatcoat reminiscent of a commissar's, though bearing the Morek Dynasty's emblem on the shoulders and right breast. As an extra affection, he wore the coat draped over his shoulders like a cloak. His long, dark hair was tied back and held with a simple black ribbon while his bright green eyes took in the activity on the bridge as he walked to his command throne.

Taking his seat, he turned to his new First Officer - recommended by his younger brother. "So," he said, his prominent eye teeth* becoming visible as he spoke, "you've seen the crew in action for this trip through the warp, what's the opinion of someone with actual experience in His Glorious Navy?" Jacob already half-expected the answer - bridge crew and other officers were given a bit more autonomy aboard His Light Triumphant than they would have on a Dictator that was serving with the Navy. Formality was also a bit more lax; the helmsman dressed more like a simple dock worker than a man trusted with guiding a vessel the size of a hab spire while the Chief Gunnery Officer (who also pulled double-duty as head of the Light's armsmen) lounged back in her seat like a cat, seemingly unconcerned about the view down her shirt that she was giving the auspex operator behind her.

Despite all of this, the crew had leapt-to when their task required it and generally proven that you don't have to look good on parade to be a top-rate crew. And they had still shown respect for the chain of command as well as more direct respect to Lord Morek, though some of the latter had an undertone of cautious optimism; Jacob had only been in command of the vessel for about a month since they left Scintilla and there had been no noteworthy problems on the voyage through the Maw or since their resupply at Footfall. He had proven himself competent at the routine aspects of command, now they waited to see how he would do under pressure.


*A curious trait of House Morek's scions - for generations they have all borne very prominent, almost fang-like, eye teeth. How prominent these have been has varied - Jacob's grandfather, Arenthius, had had them long enough to cause a mild speech impediment. Rather than have the teeth removed or filed down, he had undergone extensive speech therapy to compensate in order to keep the fangs to add to his intimidating visage. Jacob's father, Nathanius, and both of his brothers, Maximillian and Sebastian, had been on the smaller side of the scale, but they too had borne the slightly overgrown teeth. Jacob's own were short enough to not interfere with his speech, but still long enough that they were hard to miss when he smiled or spoke.
 
Commander Lauren Welkin observed the bridge as preparations began. She had been watching the crew closely, seeing how they worked and operated, they did their duties, but she could hardly say this was how she'd do it. But spending her entire career uphill now in the imperial navy, left you expecting a higher standard of work ethic.

Lauren wasn't the most physically impressive woman, standing just shy of 5' 5". Her hair was black, short at the front and sides and tied into a bun at the back. Her eyes were a piercing blue, said eyes scanning the room. She was not overly muscled, her frame more slender. Her most noticeable feature right off the bat was her right arm, or lack of it, a bionic arm was in its place, black, simple and without needless decoration. The loss of her arm is known to have been from a battle, but the details she has not shared, least not with anyone on this new crew. Her dark uniform screamed navy even if she was no longer part of the organisation, the old insignia removed to signify this. But the uniform was pristine, well kept and completely unflattering to the female form. There was a woman under there, just Lauren kept the curves and assets she did have covered. She was still a dangurous woman regardless of what her size might suggest, wearing a power sword at her left side and a las-pistol on her right. Although one might assume these weapons were for show for someone of her current and former rank, they'd both seen action and she wielded them like a woman who knew perfectly well how to kill with each.

At the arrival of the Lord-Captain, the Commander turned on the spot, giving her superior officer a crisp salute, standing at attention till he was seated, perfectly by the book. "Sir, the crew are sufficient in their duties." From her tone and expression, he could tell she was telling a half truth. 'Sufficient' for her was code for 'they do their jobs but I am not satisfied with how they went about it'. She was still getting used to how this wasn't a military operation in the slightest. Jacob could run the ship how he liked and Lauren had to adapt to that fact.
 
"I know you're used to iron-clad military regulations, but I assure you that you'll be hard-pressed to find a finer crew in the Expanse when it comes to getting the job done," Jacob said, "and I expect you'll be seeing a lot of that while we're on Damaris." They'd picked up a message from Damaris while they'd been resupplying at Footfall - the Imperial colony was smack-dab in the sights of an ork invasion and they were seeking help from anyone willing to assist. That the world was home to a relic of Saint Drusus was just further incentive to keep the orks from claiming it. Not to mention that they would be in serious need of construction materials afterwards that Jacob could turn into a rather lucrative trade route - House Morek was not in the best financial position (at least not by the standards of an ancient Rogue Trader Dynasty, they were still wealthy enough to require small armies of accountants to track it all) so any additional revenue sources were desperately needed.

"Got the signal for translation, Captain," Helmsman Blensk called out, "just give the word."
"Take us out, Blensk, then set course for Damaris." Jacob replied, the order giving the church acolytes the signal to double the volume of their hymns, adding to the cacophony of organised noise that all starship bridges were filled with when it came to entering or leaving the Immaterium. Every man, woman and servitor on the bridge knew which voices to listen for and which to tune out, letting them operate efficiently despite any non-voidfarer hearing it as nothing but random noise.

"All hands; brace for real-space translation," Blensk signalled across the ship's vox network, "translation in thirty seconds."



In real space, a purple hole in reality formed in the void, bolts of energy licking out into the Materium as though desperate to gain purchase on the physical world. Out of this came a shining beacon of pale-blue light, visible even though the last remnants of its Gellar Field. Running from the bilge-deck all the way to the highest spires of bridge and navigation, His Light Triumphant blazed with spotlights and null-flames beaming proudly into the eternal night. It would be easy to think that she was afire on all decks, if the holographic flames didn't flicker as they licked into the void. None would mistake the vessel as anything but a cruiser - five kilometres of adamantium and ceramite with screen guns that could swat a hab block out of the void - but she's got the lines of a destroyer and the moves to match. When her engine roars and hurtles her through the void, she moves like a vessel half her size and a tenth her age and isn't ashamed of that fact.

It's not until one is looking at the vessel from up close that one realises why members of the Mechanicus consider this appointment a great honor, despite the taint that still hangs over her owners. Her plasma drive, a thing from when Man conquered the stars with courage and arrogance that the Morek's still lay claim to, is visible clear through her skin. One can make out the outline glowing straight through God-Emperor knows how many layers of armour and hull, and the main power relays snaking out along the whole length of the ship give off their own bright afterglow. How visible light can get through that much is unknown, but the old deckhands say that the light she gives off isn't just excited photons jumping about. Her light, they say, is His light triumphant.

As the hole in space closed behind them, the bustle of activity settled. The various priests finished their hymns - which for the Tech-Priests meant an ear-splitting squawk of Binary - and departed the bridge, their tasks completed for now. As they moved, Jacob stood and walked to the holo-table in the middle of the bridge as it fired up (one Tech-Priest obligingly giving it the Rite of Percussive Maintenance as he passed to bring the images into focus), augur operators already feeding long-range information to it. As the planet and the ships in orbit came into view on the table, Jacob was already getting a bit worried.

"Now I'm certainly no von Ravensburg, but even I can tell that that is not a proper defensive formation." He was sure that Lauren would notice it as well. The vessels in orbit over Damaris should have taken up a defensive and mutually supporting formation, but were instead split into separate, distinct squadrons. A separate panel appeared near the vessels on the table, showing details of detected vox traffic - and showing that there were at least three entirely separate vox-nets in use by the defenders when a single, unified network would do the job far better. The defenders may have all wanted to keep the planet safe, but it was pretty-damn clear that they weren't working together on it.

"I have the sneaking suspicion that we're going to be the ones sorting out this mess."
 
Lauren nodded slightly to the Captain's words. "I do not doubt that sir. Just is going to take time to get used to. I will do my best not to fail you sir." The ex-navy captain stood bolt straight as she spoke to Jacob, certainly standing out among the rest of the crew who took things more relaxed. Maybe after this first true run was done she'd ease up, but only time and events would tell.

Lauren was well aware of what they were going into, heading straight into help a planet against an Ork Waargh. The details were sparse, particularly in the sheer magnitude of the force. While she did not doubt the might of this ship, this may well be a situation in need of more drastic and larger forces. She'd worked with many such forces, mostly the various armies of the Imperial Guard, but on a few occasions her ship having supported forces like the Space Marines or Inquisition.

The Commander watched the table as their ship arrived and frowned, quickly coming to the same conclusion as Jacob. She paced around the table, looking over the fleet formations, the at least three different fleets at that. "That will likely be an issue onto itself sir." As he suggested that they sort the mess. "Looking at this, we are likely to be dealing with infinitely stubborn officers, those who seek personal glory over their duty." Shaking her head, she remembered dealing with such captains and admirals, especially towards the end of her career.
 
As additional information on the defence vessels appeared on the table, Jacob was inclined to agree. "Well; whatever pomposity and arrogance you dealt with in the Navy, you'll be getting it even worse here," he pointed to parts of their information readouts, marking them as civilian vessels, "civilian ships that well-armed out here in the Koronus Expanse, responding to Damaris' call for aid. They're other Rogue Traders. Count yourself lucky that I'll be the one having to deal with them."

"Not all of them," a tall robed figure by the table said, a data-slate in one hand. Hieronymus Serak, Jacob's seneschal, in charge of the economic side of their endeavours in the Expanse. "That Dauntless; it's a Naval vessel. The Aegis, commanded by one Lady-Captain Sylvia Locke. It's part of Battlefleet Calixis; I suppose the Battlefleet here in the Expanse needed a scouting vessel."

"Hieronymus; do I want to know how you came about that information?" Jacob asked his seneschal.
"I'd advise maintaining plausible deniability on that front, my lord."
"Remind me to have a talk with Jannus when we get back to Scintilla; starting to think I need to know a bit more about our intelligence network."

******************************************************************************

Two days later...
His Light Triumphant slipped neatly into an orbital position, managing to find a spot that would let them react quickly to reinforce anywhere the other mini-fleets faltered should the orks strike before they could get this mess sorted out.

Their orbital path had been provided by the planet's orbital defence station called the Bulwark, a massive station built into Damaris' small moon. A gigantic central spine, presumably the station’s reactor core and other essential systems, juts out; studded with thousands of spine–like sensor masts - each with a twinkling light on the end. Girders and scaffolding are attached to parts of the main body of the station, where ships are slowly being repaired and made ready for combat under the watchful augmetic eyes of the tech–priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Gargantuan defence cannons and macrobatteries stud the outer ring of the station.

The Bulwark's commander was less-than-thrilled at news of another Rogue Trader coming to aid. Clearly Jacob's peers had made an... 'impression' on Damaris' defence forces. Credit to him that the only sign of irritation was a slight twitch of the eyebrow as Jacob had mentioned his profession and that he still went through the appropriate formalities for welcoming a Rogue Trader to their world.

It wasn't much longer before the command crew touched down at Sphinx's Landing Starport at the request of the defence's commander. The ticking of metal could be heard as the gun-cutter cooled from its landing, and the smell of promethium and the fumes of ship fuel permeated the air. Scanning the area, Jacob soon spotted a groundcar in the distance and a well dressed man in an adept’s robes waiting beside it. As he made eye contact with the adept, he beckoned to the crew to approach.

He greeted them with the sign of the Aquila. "Greetings honoured worthies of our Imperium. On behalf of the honourable Belkan Kapak, Governor of the Imperial–allied world of Damaris, I welcome you to our home. My name is Jorun Alexander, aide to Governor Kapak. I have been sent here at his request to transport you and your esteemed entourage to the Imperial Governor’s Palace. I am also to place myself at your disposal as a liaison for the duration of your stay." Jorun gestured to the vehicle and bid them to enter.

"A Council has been called with news of your arrival, and all the proper arrangements have been made for your accommodations in Damaris City until the matter at hand has been resolved." Jorun paused for a moment, then added less formally, "I would also like thank you for coming. On the behalf of myself... and my family. If there’s anything you need, or need to know about our planet, I can help as best I can."

"Well, I suppose get the obvious question out of the way," Jacob asked once they were all in the groundcar, "Why the general distress call? Surely Battlefleet Calixis or Koronus could have dispatched ships to aid your world."

"We sent word to the Battlefleets as soon as Captain Sylvia Locke's talented scouting detected the ork fleet. Governor Kapak petitioned the Imperial Navy for additional ships but was denied by Battlefleet Calixis on the basis that they are preparing their ships for a major exercise. Thus, he sent out a general Astropathic plea for aid. We have no true warships of our own. However, several other Rogue Traders have answered our call and have brought their warships with them." Jorun's summary was not filling Jacob with confidence. If the Navy wasn't going to be sending any direct help, it would make this war a lot more difficult.
 
"A fleet of Rogue Traders, no wonder they can't work together..." The Commander paused as she realised the company she was in. "Present company excluded of course, no offence meant sir." Biting her lip as she mentally scolded herself for such a slip up. She was part of a Rogue Trader now, like it or not, she had to accept that fact. Still it was probably a good thing the Lord-Captain was going to be dealing with the other Traders, Lauren only had so much patience when it came to civilians.

When the point came up regarding the Aegis, Lauren frowned, glancing over to the information displayed about it. "Strange, would of thought the Battlefleet would of sent more than the one ship..." She wasn't really talking to anyone in particular, more thinking aloud. Questions for later it would seem, now to prepare to deal with this mess and an Ork invasion.


******************************************************************************


Commander Lauren followed Jacob at his side, silently observing and listening. She let the Lord-Captain do the talking, she was well aware some officials only liked to deal with the commanding officer directly. So she didn't feel the need to add her own voice when that may well not get them anywhere. Besides, it was a good opportunity to see how her new superior handled himself in a official capacity. She had much respect for House Morek, her previous second in command being a member of it and Jacob's brother. But she was not foolish enough to trust reputation alone.

Listening, things seemed to be going well and soon they got their first answer, why the ragtag bunch of civilians rather than a military response. It made sense though troubled Lauren, an Ork invasion, especially a large one, could quickly get out of hand. Should Ork's take a world, their numbers would only swell in time and multiple invasions could be launched from the fallen world. There must of been a good reason behind the scenes to ignore such a threat. For now, it seemed they were more or less on their own here.
 
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