Turn One, Into the Abyss
As you enter the main lounge of your shuttlecraft, you are greeted with the familiar sight of Captain Thorne, your oldest companion and something of a father to you. As you step in, he seems to be in the midst of investigating the well-stocked refreshments cabinet on one side of the chamber. However, he must have noticed your entrance either from the sound of your feet dragging through the plush carpets of the lounge or perhaps he saw your reflection in one of the bottles.
Nevertheless, he quickly wheels around, his bionic leg whirring in protest at the sudden movement, as he snaps to the position of attention and raises his arm to his brow in a salute.
“
Governor! I am at your service.”
For a moment, his military bearing is somewhat broken as a broad grin splits his scarred and wrinkled face, brilliant white teeth flashing from within his closely cropped grey beard.
“
Governor … I can't believe you finally made it. I knew you always would; I just never figured I'd be here to see the day, little Eros, a governor….”
Seemingly realizing the breach of protocol and looking aghast at himself, he returns his face to impassive severity before barking out:
“
Captain Aelric Thorne, House Hamenthe Castellans, reporting for duty.”
You can't help but smile; Aelric may be the next thing to a father to you, but he was always a stickler for the proper forms and protocols. Walking past him and to the drinks counter, you set down your golden wreath before pouring two fine glasses of Maccrage Amasec.
“
Oh, at ease… Aelric, come sit with me and drink. We will have much to do when we arrive at Moran. For now, let us celebrate, old friend.”
Before long, your shuttle lifts off, carrying you to the venerable heavy freighter, the “Emperor's Lament.” In truth, viewing the vessel on approach from your shuttle is more than a little disappointing. It feels as if your triumphal chariot carrying you to the fulfillment of your life's goals should be trimmed with gold, or at least not look like it was near to falling apart. The Emperor's Lament has clearly seen better days; whole sections of the hull look as if they have been rebuilt over and over again, and even these rebuilt sections show scars from more recent battles or accidents. You even think you spot an atmosphere leak in one of the lower decks as you near the hangar, but before you can get a better view, your shuttle enters one of the vessel's immense hangars.
As your shuttle touches down, you can hear the sounds of the hangar pressurizing and the sound of frantic activity from within. As the shuttle ramp opens, you're greeted with the frosty, stale air of the hangar; clearly, climate control isn't much of a priority aboard the Lament. But before you can think to complain, you see properly the sight before you: rank upon rank of assembled personnel. Closest to you are your House Castellans in fine black carapace, Hotshot Las Rifles held at the position of attention. Further back stand the serried ranks of house armsmen, whose less impressive arms and armament are barely noticed as they hold rigid attention for you. Even further back, you see the throngs of civilian settlers who begin to cheer as they see you mount the first of the shuttle's steps, descending into the lane between the troops and the civilians, Aelric at your side.
Walking through the crowd, you feel your heart swell with warmth and pride; these are your people, and this ship, whose metal decking rings beneath your feet, is your ship. But as you pass through the ranks of troops who begin to chant your name—“Eros, Eros, Eros…”—you catch sight of something that sends a slight chill through you. Three sets of noble banners can be seen within the throng of civilians: the Crimson and gold banner of House Vortigan, whose gryphon crest glares malignantly at you; the civilians clustered around this banner notably do not cheer. House Vortigan has been a long-time thorn in the side of House Hamenthe; having always been slightly weaker than your own house, their constant scheming has been a thorn in the side of your ancestors, and this delegation of their people must be yet another one of those schemes.
Further along the procession, you see the blue banner of House Celestria, its silver moon shining brightly; the peons clustered around this banner cheer you just as loudly as your own people. You even recognize one of House Celestria’s nobles, Sir Archibald, a minor member of the family of a similar age to you. He was something of a companion in your youths, but as time wore on, you drifted apart; he joined the Imperial Navy for a time, and his house has always been a staunch supporter of yours. You remember him as an honest and diligent man, if a bit overly serious. As you pass him by, he renders you with a crisp salute, which you return with a polite wave and a smile.
Nearly at the end of the whole assembly stands a stark black banner: House Drakonov, the red dragon of their family's crest sleeps within the field of black. They are a recently risen house on your homeworld, nothing more than particularly successful underhive gangers not more than a century ago. Their rise to prominence has been nothing less than meteoric, having built a close relationship with the Mechanicus and established control over many of the recycling industries on your homeworld. You can only guess why they sent a delegation along with you, but one thing is certain: the men and women who cluster underneath the Drakonov banner can't be said to be peasants—all well-built and bearing the gang tattoos the family still uses as a tradition. While they clap politely, there's a killing edge within their eyes. Only time will tell what agenda these upstarts are pursuing, but you quickly have to push it from your mind as you reach the end of the assembly and come to a delegation of white-uniformed ship's crew. At their center is a great mass of a man; the amount of augmetics at first leads you to believe he is some kind of servitor, being carried forward on four mechanical legs and with many tubes and cables dripping from his body as if it was hair. As you approach, he bows, or at least approximates one by leaning his chest slightly forward, cables drooping before a mechanical voice booms out from some vox speaker you cannot see.
“
I am Captain Price; it is a pleasure to welcome you aboard the Emperor's Lament… Myself and the crew are eager to serve you. We expect a reasonably quick warp translation to the Moran System; the tides of the Immaterium are calm, and it should only be a few months until we arrive in the system. My second officer will show you to your quarters in the meantime. Welcome aboard, Governor.”
The warp translation takes slightly longer than Captain Price led you to expect, being in translation for nearly a year; however, that is the way of warp travel, and Captain Price is notably apologetic for the delay, as uncontrollable as it may be. You, of course, were on the bridge when the vessel exited the warp on the edge of the Moran System. As the armored visors retreat from the bridge viewports, leaving you staring at the inky purple visage of the outermost gas giant of the Moran System, marked on official Imperial charts as GGE-M002, though from reading through some of the limited reports from the Imperial expeditionary force that expunged the last government of this system, it seems the locals call this world Abyss. It's quite easy to see why, as the inky purple murk of the gas giant seems to, at its edge, merge with the void that surrounds it, leaving it indefinable in your vision.
After the initial minutes of chaos on the bridge, as systems dormant for nearly a year are brought back online, pict screens flicker to life, displaying esoteric images of space charts that you know are meant to represent local space, though you lack the expertise to interpret the various figures and geometric displays as anything other than gibberish. To the right of the navigational charts sits the sensorium station, whose esoteric devices you can't even begin to interpret. As a matter of fact, the only station on the bridge you would feel comfortable using if ever that was necessary is the vox, located next to the command throne.
Captain Price turns to speak to you, looking far more comfortable ensconced in his command throne than he did upon your first meeting in the hangar; the various cables and tubes that dangled freely from his body are now comfortably plugged into the throne, allowing him the ability to feel his ship as he commands it.
“
Madame, we are detecting vox traffic from within the system near Moran Primus and its two moons, Secundus and Tertium. This isn't surprising; most of the traffic is at such a range we do not pick it up clearly enough to read it. I apologize that I cannot tell you more; our charts are outdated, and as a hauler, we have only the most basic of sensorium suites. We can proceed straight to Moran Primus; however, with the situation unknown in the system, I would urge caution. The Lament is no warship, and if the situation is less stable in the system than we were led to believe… I would be appalled to risk your life, Madame. Some of our older charts indicate that there is a station somewhere in the orbit of GGE-M002 intended to serve as a gas extraction platform, though, for whatever reason, it was abandoned before being brought into full operation. It should have a substantial Sensorium and Vox Suite; however, if we could discover it and bring it back into service, it would allow us to know what we were walking into deeper into the system. I don't mean to command you, my liege; I simply do not wish to risk your vessel.”
A.) Proceed to Moran Primus with all due haste, you are the rightful governor after all why should you sulk in the shadows of your own star system
B.) Attempt to locate and restore the Extraction station in orbit of GGE-M002
C.) Write in (Any action you want to suggest if it gets enough votes I will roll with it)
Assets:Inventory:
150,000 Thrones
5 Turns Supply
(Represents how many turns you can keep your current personnel supplied)
Naval Forces:
The Emperors Lament: Heavy Freighter
Armmaments:
1 x Light Macro Cannon Battery
4 x Point Defense Battery
Hangar Space: (4/4)
1st Heavy Lifter Squadron (100%)
-Heavy Landing Barges
1st Utility Squadron (100%)
-Arvus Lighter
2nd Utility Squadron (100%)
-Arvus Lighter
3rd Utility Squadron (100%)
-Valkyrie Sky Talon
Ground Forces:
1st House Guards Regiment:
Personnel:
500 House Castellans
Armaments & Equipment:
Hotshot Las Weapons
Shock Mauls
Carapace Armor
Vehicles:
3 Rogal Dorn Battle Tanks
5 Hydra Self Propelled Anti Aircraft Guns
10 Crassus Armored Assault Transports
1st House Armsmen Regiment:
Personnel:
1,500 House Armsmen
Armaments & Equipment:
Las Weapons
Flak Armor
Vehicles:
100 4x4 Automobiles (Various makes and models of lightly armored offroad vehicles frequently used for police work they do at least increase the Armsmens Mobility)
1st Enforcer Regiment
Personnel:
3,000 Enforcers
Armaments & Equipment:
Autopistols
Vehicles:
N/A
2nd Enforcer Regiment
Personnel:
3,000 Enforcers
Armaments & Equipment:
Autopistols
Vehicles:
N/A
Author
Topic: Hail Governor a Warhammer 40,000 Suggestion Game (Read 1362 times)