The Crew of the Voidship Vox Fulmina
Oswyn Tallador - Sanctic Psyker and former Ecclesiarchy priest. Captain.
Calypsos Renn - Thousand Sons Sorcerer. Astropath and Navigator.
Phaestos Delta 12 - Mechanicum Dominus. Enginseer.
Fio’el Bork’an Nem’sha - Earth Caste T’au. Chief Medical Officer.
Marlowe - Callidus Assassin. Spymaster.
Vox Fulmina - Ship’s Machine Spirit. Former human (deceased).
“I understand Astartes tend to avoid working with ‘baselines-‘“ Oswyn paused to take a long swig of his amasec. “-but I’m hoping we can form some kind of professional relationship.”
“Most do, but I am not most. In fact there are exactly zero living, loyalist, Astartes like me.” Darius responds calmly, drinking from his flask. “Don’t be a jackass to an extreme degree and we’ll get along just fine. And don’t preach, I’ve literally heard it all before.”
“In that case, we’re going bug stomping. Vox?”
He said the word in a way that implied it was a name and not the Low Gothic term for communications. A panel in the middle of the heavy dark-wood table flipped over and became a holo projector.
[[Here you are, Captain.]]
Oswyn gestured to the display.
“Unnamed human colony. Formed on a planetoid after their transport crashed and most of them died. But that was over a century ago. They actually had a pretty good thing going, until the “planetoid” started waking up.”
Phaestos Delta-12, who had until then been still and silent in one of the room’s back corners let out a squawk of Binaric before adjusting their language output.
“Presence of Xenos threat, designation: Tyranid confirmed. Subdivision//composition//Hive Fleet origins unknown. Defense of colony = opportunity for service and/or research. Alliance: true?”
“As eloquent as ever, PD. He’s right, though.”
“Are the tyranids connected to the greater hive mind, or is it localized here? I need to know if I should put my Chief Librarian in stasis. He can’t stand the Shadow in the Warp, even more than other psykers. He’d explode.” Darius says as he looks at the Captain’s companions. “I’d say you keep odd company but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t keep even more odd company.”
“I’ll start up anti-tyranid protocols. If you want to join the fight I just ask that you don’t be idiots and get yourselves killed. And don’t too close to Sergeant Major Nex. You’ll get covered in blood and guts.”
Oswyn finished his drink and stood, beginning to slowly pace the length of the holo-table.
“We have no reason to believe this is more than a splinter fleet. We’ve been monitoring the entire time we flew in and there’s no trace of any other xenos in the area, let alone the Great Devourer.
As for staying alive, well…My crew isn’t suicidal, if that’s what you’re implying.”
He smiled, then keyed something in to a distinctly Tau style wrist-console. “Mx Nem’sha, will you prepare the battlesuits? I’m sending Phaestos to assist.”
[[Acknowledged, Shas’o Tallador]]
“Protect your psykers as you see fit, Darius. I do have a uniquely sheltered area of Vox Fulmina for my own specialist. They can share for the duration of the conflict, if you wish.”
“Just Cossus needs to be put in stasis. He’s the most powerful psyker my Chapter has ever had. If he overloaded there’s a good chance it’d take out my flagship in its entirety. I myself am a minor psyker so I don’t relish the headache but I’ll be able to tell if the hive mind from this splinter fleet is bigger than we think. Perks of having survived a connection with the hive mind.”
Darius raises a brow. “A T’au with you? Interesting. Any other things I shouldn’t know about? And if you’re worrying if I’ll report you to the Inquisiton…”
Darius holds up his removed helmet and a mechanical voice comes out of it. “I’d love to meet your T’au crew member. Are they of the Earth Caste?”
“Assume I’ve done worse.” Darius finishes.
“I knew I’d like you, Chapter Master,” Oswyn guffawed with delight, slapping his thigh and going to pour himself another glass of amasec.
“I suppose the most ‘heretical’ members of the Vox Fulmina are all in my Command Squad. I was excommunicated from the Ecclesiarchy, Phaestos is a Xenarite, Fio’el Bork’an Nem’sha is indeed earth caste Tau, my current navigator is a Thousand Sons refugee, and Vox’s machine spirit is the ghost of her former navigatior.
I think that about sums it up.”
Darius nods. “I’m a loyalist Death Guard who fought in the Great Crusade, the voice from my helmet is Eklius, who was an ultramarine, also from the great crusade. He died and became a machine spirit, somehow. My Chief Librarian is a former Blood Raven, my Head Chaplain is an escaped experiment of the Black Templars, he has world eater geneseed, and the second in command of the Chaplaincy is possessed.” Darius says, casually admitting to multiple heresies.
“Blood Raven, huh? He might have something in common with Calypsos then, if rumors are to be believed.”
Distracted, he set his glass down without drinking.
“Reports say the Tyranids attack from a massive tunnel network just under the surface, so have your forces prepare for close quarters and night fighting operations. I aim to make planetfall in a Terran standard hour. They haven’t struck recently, so we may have a slight advantage.”
“If you want to make planetfall that early, I’ll get the first company to go with you. The rest of the legion will take a bit more time to muster. Half a day, at the most but more than an hour.”
Darius takes a drink from one of his various flasks. “I’ll be on the planet in thirty minutes, I’ll find a good staging area before the attack.”
As projected, Oswyn’s mercenary force touched down within the hour. Thankfully, the Vox Fulmina crew had the foresight to warn the human colony of their force’s distribution; otherwise, the sight of several dozen T’au Battlesuits landing at their doorstep would have caused an entirely different kind of xenos panic.
The base models - three Coldstar, six Crisis, three Broadside pattern - were modified heavily, particularly the Coldstar command trio piloted by Oswyn, Phaestos, and Calypsos. They were backed up by four groups of twelve Stealth Suits, altered for human pilots.
Meeting up with Darius’ retinue, Oswyn saluted, the battlesuit rapping a fist against its chest.
[[ Fought beside T’au before, Darius? ]] Came the message over local comms.
[[ Plenty. Farsight is a good friend. ]] Is the reply from the giant.
Darius’ retinue is certainly and odd one.
It’s obvious that they are heads of specialist roles, at least some of them. The small chaplain with the gold mask is a strong indication for being Head Chaplain.
The other chaplain with wings however, has no embellishments on his armor. The winged chaplain smiles at the newcomers, displaying his fangs but not in a threatening way.
Then there is the Necron. At least it’s probably a Necron? It’s form is very far from the standard Necron template.
Darius begins to introduce these odd fellows.
He gestures to the short chaplain. “This is Head Chaplain Gray. I recommend not getting in front of him in battle.”
Next comes the winged chaplain. “This is Anxo, Senior Chaplain. Yes, he’s a gene-son of Sanguinius, if you somehow couldn’t tell.” Anxo flashes another fanged smile. “Lovely to meet you all.”
Then he nods at the Necron(?) “And that is Eklius’ mobile platform.”
[[You’ve got powerful friends. Perhaps you can introduce us sometime.]]
Calypsos spoke up. The sorcerer’s vehicle was by far the most obviously altered, though how was unclear; a passing glance revealed some kind of organic structure amongst the technological components.
“Yes, yes. We’re all precious snowflakes. Are we going to exterminate the Tyranids now?”
His voice, though issued from the beak of the anthropomorphic bird’s head of his battlesuit, did not carry the same tinny quality of a vox-caster.
As if to accentuate Calypsos’ point, the ground beneath the gathered forces shuddered ominously.
[[The crow is right. Let’s save any more niceties for debriefing. Darius, as you have roughly twelve thousand years’ experience on me, I’m passing operational command to you. We will follow your orders.]]
i just want the EC to be respected. okay. as they are. not just the pre heresy version of them. not some macho masculine version of them. as they are. with all their problems and beauty and messy infighting and substances and queercoding and everything. can we just be respected. please
THIS POST MUST BE REBLOGGED BY EVERYONE
Is there any any themes, tropes, or cliches that you like giving to muses? Are there any relationships among your own muses? If so, tell us more!
Oswyn is based on the “badass old person” trope that I see a lot of in anime and martial arts movies. And whether I like it or not, I’ve been deeply influenced by the dialogue in Marvel movies i.e. lots of sarcasm and one-liners.
Oswyn and Calypsos have a friendly rivalry. Phaestos and Nem’sha have a close working relationship. Phaestos treats the spirit of the Vox Fulmina like its child. Oswyn and Marlowe used to be lovers. They didn’t part on the best of terms, but have since resolved their differences.
You're not around a lot of regular humans, are you?
“Unless you count the sisters of silence, no.”
“The Pariah gene is exceptionally rare. I doubt anyone is counting them as normal.”
Another flying xenos broke from its flock and headed directly towards the pair. Oswyn put a burst of three shots through one wing and sent it crashing down.
“So, what, you’re the Saint of lost causes?” He laughed again, losing himself a little to the absurdity of the situation. The closest thing to the God-Emperor he’d ever seen, let alone interacted with, and he was pouting. “Why don’t you- Celestine’s tits!”
Oswyn gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he was hauled swiftly upwards.
"Guardian of the Cradle, actually." Meredith replied, once she was safely on top of the cliff, and set Oswyn down. Her arm hissed, but before the locks were replaced, she got just enough time to whip around and punch a daemon hard enough in the face to split it in half from the shockwave that ripped through it.
"And don't swear, it's not nice." she teased with a wink. "So, you doing anything after this or am I free to get your attention for the next few months?"
“I owe several lifetimes at this point, but if that’s all you want, sure.” Oswyn dug through several of his coat pockets before finding a tabacc stick and lighting it with a tiny golden flame that appeared above his thumb, a sense of calm bravado coming over him now that the pair weren’t in imminent danger.
The flame dissipated and the mercenary frowned.
“The Light of Humanity’s all tapped out, Saint. I’m gonna need a nice, long nap before I can be useful again.”
in an apothecary's shop filled with herbs and potion . (Noel)
“Imperium medical services not to your liking?” Oswyn smirked, raising a vial and swirling it gently, trying to determine what was in the mixture. “I know the feeling. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a Tau hangover cure.”
Noel was about to ask who was the person singing that tune, when he noticed the ring on Oswyn's finger. Of all the people who could have entered the shop, a high-ranking ecclesiarchy member wasn't one of them. The man's pale face worried him. "Is there anyone who wants to hurt you? Because you look like you are in deep trouble."
The whistling kept getting closer. They had to get out there soon. He grabbed the bolt pistol and the dagger which were underneath his desk. "I'm following you. You might have better chances defeating whoever is coming after you. I don't know what one of the ecclesiarchy's big wigs is doing in a non-imperial corner of the Koronus Expanse, but I have the feeling you angered one of your colleagues."
“Former. And more than one,” was the curt reply. The old mercenary leaned out from a tall shipping container, using the scope on his pistol to check the approaching gang; three humans and an Ogryn, all dressed in ragged leather and piecemeal combat gear.
Oswyn snorted. “Mad enough to have me killed, but not enough to hire a professional. Idiots.”
“I understand Astartes tend to avoid working with ‘baselines-‘“ Oswyn paused to take a long swig of his amasec. “-but I’m hoping we can form some kind of professional relationship.”
“Most do, but I am not most. In fact there are exactly zero living, loyalist, Astartes like me.” Darius responds calmly, drinking from his flask. “Don’t be a jackass to an extreme degree and we’ll get along just fine. And don’t preach, I’ve literally heard it all before.”
“In that case, we’re going bug stomping. Vox?”
He said the word in a way that implied it was a name and not the Low Gothic term for communications. A panel in the middle of the heavy dark-wood table flipped over and became a holo projector.
[[Here you are, Captain.]]
Oswyn gestured to the display.
“Unnamed human colony. Formed on a planetoid after their transport crashed and most of them died. But that was over a century ago. They actually had a pretty good thing going, until the “planetoid” started waking up.”
Phaestos Delta-12, who had until then been still and silent in one of the room’s back corners let out a squawk of Binaric before adjusting their language output.
“Presence of Xenos threat, designation: Tyranid confirmed. Subdivision//composition//Hive Fleet origins unknown. Defense of colony = opportunity for service and/or research. Alliance: true?”
“As eloquent as ever, PD. He’s right, though.”
“Are the tyranids connected to the greater hive mind, or is it localized here? I need to know if I should put my Chief Librarian in stasis. He can’t stand the Shadow in the Warp, even more than other psykers. He’d explode.” Darius says as he looks at the Captain’s companions. “I’d say you keep odd company but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t keep even more odd company.”
“I’ll start up anti-tyranid protocols. If you want to join the fight I just ask that you don’t be idiots and get yourselves killed. And don’t too close to Sergeant Major Nex. You’ll get covered in blood and guts.”
Oswyn finished his drink and stood, beginning to slowly pace the length of the holo-table.
“We have no reason to believe this is more than a splinter fleet. We’ve been monitoring the entire time we flew in and there’s no trace of any other xenos in the area, let alone the Great Devourer.
As for staying alive, well…My crew isn’t suicidal, if that’s what you’re implying.”
He smiled, then keyed something in to a distinctly Tau style wrist-console. “Mx Nem’sha, will you prepare the battlesuits? I’m sending Phaestos to assist.”
[[Acknowledged, Shas’o Tallador]]
“Protect your psykers as you see fit, Darius. I do have a uniquely sheltered area of Vox Fulmina for my own specialist. They can share for the duration of the conflict, if you wish.”
“Just Cossus needs to be put in stasis. He’s the most powerful psyker my Chapter has ever had. If he overloaded there’s a good chance it’d take out my flagship in its entirety. I myself am a minor psyker so I don’t relish the headache but I’ll be able to tell if the hive mind from this splinter fleet is bigger than we think. Perks of having survived a connection with the hive mind.”
Darius raises a brow. “A T’au with you? Interesting. Any other things I shouldn’t know about? And if you’re worrying if I’ll report you to the Inquisiton…”
Darius holds up his removed helmet and a mechanical voice comes out of it. “I’d love to meet your T’au crew member. Are they of the Earth Caste?”
“Assume I’ve done worse.” Darius finishes.
“I knew I’d like you, Chapter Master,” Oswyn guffawed with delight, slapping his thigh and going to pour himself another glass of amasec.
“I suppose the most ‘heretical’ members of the Vox Fulmina are all in my Command Squad. I was excommunicated from the Ecclesiarchy, Phaestos is a Xenarite, Fio’el Bork’an Nem’sha is indeed earth caste Tau, my current navigator is a Thousand Sons refugee, and Vox’s machine spirit is the ghost of her former navigatior.
I think that about sums it up.”
Darius nods. “I’m a loyalist Death Guard who fought in the Great Crusade, the voice from my helmet is Eklius, who was an ultramarine, also from the great crusade. He died and became a machine spirit, somehow. My Chief Librarian is a former Blood Raven, my Head Chaplain is an escaped experiment of the Black Templars, he has world eater geneseed, and the second in command of the Chaplaincy is possessed.” Darius says, casually admitting to multiple heresies.
“Blood Raven, huh? He might have something in common with Calypsos then, if rumors are to be believed.”
Distracted, he set his glass down without drinking.
“Reports say the Tyranids attack from a massive tunnel network just under the surface, so have your forces prepare for close quarters and night fighting operations. I aim to make planetfall in a Terran standard hour. They haven’t struck recently, so we may have a slight advantage.”
“If you want to make planetfall that early, I’ll get the first company to go with you. The rest of the legion will take a bit more time to muster. Half a day, at the most but more than an hour.”
Darius takes a drink from one of his various flasks. “I’ll be on the planet in thirty minutes, I’ll find a good staging area before the attack.”
As projected, Oswyn’s mercenary force touched down within the hour. Thankfully, the Vox Fulmina crew had the foresight to warn the human colony of their force’s distribution; otherwise, the sight of several dozen T’au Battlesuits landing at their doorstep would have caused an entirely different kind of xenos panic.
The base models - three Coldstar, six Crisis, three Broadside pattern - were modified heavily, particularly the Coldstar command trio piloted by Oswyn, Phaestos, and Calypsos. They were backed up by four groups of twelve Stealth Suits, altered for human pilots.
Meeting up with Darius’ retinue, Oswyn saluted, the battlesuit rapping a fist against its chest.
[[ Fought beside T’au before, Darius? ]] Came the message over local comms.
I am absolutely guilty of this, and I don’t give a crap if your reply is a month late or even a year late. It tells me you’re still interested in rping with me. And even if I’m not in the headspace for that particular thread anymore it also tells me I can come at you with new ideas without being a nuisance. So reply away, no matter how long it’s been!
[[ To any in the vicinity, this is the voidship Vox Fulmina. Be advised, there are Necrons in this sector. Stay away if you value your lives. ]]
“And we don’t value our own?”
Oswyn snorted, turning in his command throne to face the speaker. “Not as much as anyone else. Most of the Vox’s crew should be dead twice over, at least. We’ve had our chance.”
Calypsos Renn, ship’s navigator and former Astartes of the Thousand Sons, harrumphed, flicking the avian wings growing from his mutated body in a sign of disapproval before leaving the bridge to continue his duties, guiding the Vox Fulmina *towards* the massive Necron craft.
From the bridge of the Lewa's Dream, Nenime watched the massive Necron tombship drift silently in the void, a dark silhouette against the distant stars.
The plan was straightforward: infiltrate and sabotage the tombship before it could fully awaken. The presence of a human ship hadn’t been part of the plan.
Her crew exchanged glances, waiting for her next command. Nenime frowned slightly, considering the complications.
"Maintain course," she instructed, calm but decisive. "Ready the boarding party."
As the Void Stalker glided stealthily toward the tombship, the corsair princess spared a moment to admire the humans’ bravery, even if it made the mission more unpredictable.
The Vox Fulmina docked in a massive empty area that may or may not have been a hangar bay. As the ramp lowered into the pitch black space, a trio of heavily modified T’au Battlesuits made their way down, several drones following behind. All three suits activated head-mounted lumens and one of the drones let out a scanning pulse.
[[Captain, sensors are reading no life signs aboard.]] Calypsos sent over inter-suit comms.
[[Doesn’t mean much on a Necron vessel, Magister Renn.]]
[[Theoretical: life signs = additional threats. Confirm?]] said Phaestos Delta-12, piloting the third suit.
[[Yes, Phaestos. Thank you.]] Calypsos replied.
“I’m not worth saving. Please.”
( Dramatic & Protective prompts @ask-the-sanctus-militant . Your choice as to who is speaking to Mer. )
Meredith stares down the former priest, her right hand clasped around his collar. Bold words for someone only hanging on to life by that arm. Her mechanical one keeping the two from going over the cliffs edge.
"You're telling me who I will and won't try to save?" it was less of a question, and more of a challenge. "Wouldn't expect a bearer of the cloth to command a Saint."
“They kicked me out, remember?” Oswyn grunted and aimed a shot of his las pistol at one of the Tyranid Gargoyles flying along the canyon.
“Besides, I said please,” he smiled wryly, glad he was using a weapon without any kick. “I’m just being practical.”
"Yeah, and a quitter." Meredith bit back, snarky as ever. "Speaking of being a quitter, GARTH!!" she shouted over her communications device in her helmet. "You going to keep playing todays crossword or unlock the safety on this thing?"
Before she even finished speaking, a loud KA-CHUNK sounded from inside her metal arm.
"Alright, hang on, kid!" she shouted, running up the side of the cliff face, dragging both her and their carry on with them to safety.
Another flying xenos broke from its flock and headed directly towards the pair. Oswyn put a burst of three shots through one wing and sent it crashing down.
“So, what, you’re the Saint of lost causes?” He laughed again, losing himself a little to the absurdity of the situation. The closest thing to the God-Emperor he’d ever seen, let alone interacted with, and he was pouting. “Why don’t you- Celestine’s tits!”
Oswyn gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he was hauled swiftly upwards.
in an apothecary's shop filled with herbs and potion . (Noel)
“Imperium medical services not to your liking?” Oswyn smirked, raising a vial and swirling it gently, trying to determine what was in the mixture. “I know the feeling. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a Tau hangover cure.”
Noel lifted his gaze from the book he was reading when he heard the man's voice. To be fair, he wasn't expecting company. "The person in charge of this place had to get out for some days. I am just here to take care of the place. Is there anything you are looking for? I may be of assistance."
He laid a strip of leather on the page he'd stopped so as not to lose it, and then closed the book and place it on the table beside him.
Oswyn shook his head. “I’m afraid not, son. To tell you the truth, I only slipped in here for some privacy. There are some…unsavory characters in this city, and I’d like to avoid them if I can.”
He placed the vial back into its display stand.
“I won’t let them hurt the store, though. You have my word.”
Unsavory characters. The words caught Noel's attention. What kind of malicious people might be lurking in the city, and what were they after? And what were the chances that they would direct their attention to this corner of Summernight City? Depending on their numbers and how well they were armed, the chances of the store surviving might be low.
And what about himself? He'd rather keep on living, thank you very much.
"Who are these people? Are they looking for you? And most importantly, how dangerous are they?"
He hoped he wouldn't have to call Achilles and his team to deal with the menace. The poor shop wouldn't survive them being unleashed. Worse, he hated the idea of his friend losing something she'd built with a lot of effort and sacrifice.
The mercenary shrugged. “Crime families, random gangers, you name it. Every planet has them, or near enough.”
Someone was whistling a tune outside - a hymn for the damned, often sung before the execution of criminals. Oswyn paled and immediately went for the laspistol holstered at his hip. A ring for high-ranking members of the Ecclesiarchy glinted on his index finger as he drew the weapon out.
“I’m leaving. Follow me outside if you like, but I can’t guarantee your safety.”
“I’m not worth saving. Please.”
( Dramatic & Protective prompts @ask-the-sanctus-militant . Your choice as to who is speaking to Mer. )
Meredith stares down the former priest, her right hand clasped around his collar. Bold words for someone only hanging on to life by that arm. Her mechanical one keeping the two from going over the cliffs edge.
"You're telling me who I will and won't try to save?" it was less of a question, and more of a challenge. "Wouldn't expect a bearer of the cloth to command a Saint."
“They kicked me out, remember?” Oswyn grunted and aimed a shot of his las pistol at one of the Tyranid Gargoyles flying along the canyon.
“Besides, I said please,” he smiled wryly, glad he was using a weapon without any kick. “I’m just being practical.”
in an apothecary's shop filled with herbs and potion . (Noel)
“Imperium medical services not to your liking?” Oswyn smirked, raising a vial and swirling it gently, trying to determine what was in the mixture. “I know the feeling. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a Tau hangover cure.”
Noel lifted his gaze from the book he was reading when he heard the man's voice. To be fair, he wasn't expecting company. "The person in charge of this place had to get out for some days. I am just here to take care of the place. Is there anything you are looking for? I may be of assistance."
He laid a strip of leather on the page he'd stopped so as not to lose it, and then closed the book and place it on the table beside him.
Oswyn shook his head. “I’m afraid not, son. To tell you the truth, I only slipped in here for some privacy. There are some…unsavory characters in this city, and I’d like to avoid them if I can.”
He placed the vial back into its display stand.
“I won’t let them hurt the store, though. You have my word.”
