Editing The ship moves (section)

==Part 5==
The Tau are running certain parts of the engine room. They were the only people with the technical expertise to design the reactor who were sane and willing enough to help us. Provided they don't rock the boat, so to speak, they get to come along for the ride. Just don't ask them to explain how things work. The moment they start talking the tech-priests start twitching. Turns out they wanted outs as much as the next person.

Sadly the next person turned out to be the Eldar. To build something of such vast size and mass you need to be able to create things from nothing. As they were capable of 'singing' matter into existence they got offered the job of providing the raw material for the construction. In return they come along. They even threaded a colossal infinity circuit through the ship. Infinity circuit also works as The Ship's intercom. They are now mostly employed in the business of making spare parts for the repair teams.

The repair teams are, of as you would expect, mostly ad-mech. There are rumors that some of the repair teams, the ones that go to the irradiated places and other such places that men can not walk, are necrons trying to start again. Ad-mech inform everyone that this is bullshit and that they are just heavily upgraded with blessings. No necrons were allowed on The Ship. The necrons also agree to this story.

The eldar inhabitants of The Ship can sing base material into existence. There are parts of the ship dedicated to the cultivation of food, be it plant, animal or fungus. These 'agri-decks' are fed by the bodies and biological waste of the crew and further bulked out with fresh matter sung up by the eldar. For the eldar it is an unglamorous but proud job for without them the ship would eventually starve.


My job aboard the Glorious Ship is a simple one, but never the less impotent.

Every three years, I am to report to the bridge, activate my station and say into the comm system, a system that spans the entire ship, so that every single person can hear my voice for a few brief seconds.
I am to say how far we've come.
It is a job that has been passed down my family for generations. My father before me had, and his father before him and so on and so forth for near twenty generations.
Because of this my family has lived very well off, just outside the bridge in an extremely nice loft. I have a wife and three children.
And today is my last shift, before I pass onto my oldest son the job of the Speaker.

"Ladies in gentlemen of the Imperium of Man, we have traveled, three trillion seven hundred sixty billion nine hundred twenty million one hundred seven thousand two hundred and fifty mile light years since our voyage began."

And with that, I step away from the microphone, power off my station and return to the Tram station where I will be taken home and greeted by the Imperial Inquisition, who will release me from my duties and have my name written into the Book of Nobility. As my father had done, and his father before him, and so on and so forth for twenty generations.
________
This was the last recorded log of Motics Talpala before his untimely death from a broken tram in the market district.

Ogyrn now man the cargo holds and do lots of heavy lifting. Also they assist the security teams when needed. Tribes become work-teams and Bone 'eads become Foremen.

Ratlings, due to their size advantage, are in charge of the ventilation systems.

Fish-people now repair and maintain the water-cyclers.

Squats of the Engineers Guild plan and execute the big level repair work as their brothers and sisters in the armed forces keep the peace and go on truly inspiring ork killing sprees.


I hate my job, I know I shouldn't say that. Because I'm lucky to be alive, and am reminded of that every day of the street preachers. But Emperor damn-it, I hate, HATE, HHAAAAATE have to be part of the crew that has to has to clean up have the Ship Marines put down a rebellion.
This time is was down in Sector Kal-Thrax 7651-A
or ah, an Engineering housing distract.
They let the Wolves loose to take care of it, and in all my years of service to the Clean-Up crew I have never seen something to messy.
Took us hours to load them up all the bodies, or ah, parts of the bodies up into the Tram
took us even longer to throw the bodies into the recycling furnace.
But you do what you gotta do, in service to the God-Emperor, and the survival of The Ship.

But I suppose its not all bad, my Companies secondary duites are keeping track of the Adhuman communities in Sector Ral-Meth, No-Mar and Il-Bit
I personally love going to No-Mar, the whole community is full of Homo sapiens hirsutus, or Felinids... or, if you need it spelled out, Cat people.
And their women are hotter the recycling furnace after a level six purge!

But we only do that once a year, so its not all great... still, gives us all something to look forward to. Might be the only time of the year any of us get laid.


> The ship is moving! The ship is underway!

The vox channels crackled with chatter and the holotables kept track of the vast Chaos forces taking the planet. We were the last surviving planet that stood in the way of the spear point that made the advancing hordes of chaos. Cultists by the millions were mowed down by auto cannons and heavy bolters while shells rained down from the heavens. Our forces were remnants of others, a single company of Imperial Fists, and the Doomed Chapter arrived when the cultists reached the walls. Even now they stand on the parapits, flames in the night as the surviving Imperial Fists stood guard next to them. Then there was the regiments whose planets had been overrun, all retreating to a single point in our galaxy. The last ship came months ago, all hands on board dropping into orbit as the auto pilot ran the ship right into the chaos fleet and detonated itself.

> EMPEROR'S NUTS, THEY ARE COMING WITH EVERYTHING!

Ah... the display has more foe than friendly now. I suppose it's time.

This planet used to hum with silent activity. Now the air is full of bolter fire and the cries of the dying. I stand now with the bulk of the marines, my Commissary Cap barely hitting their shoulder. Doomed and Imperial stand side by side with PDF's of countless planets, and the remnants of almost extinct regiments.
> They're past the main entrance. Weapons teams are dry. The Emperor Protects.

The space marines charge their weapons all at once, an adrenaline pumping sound. The ragged IG put fresh belts in their automatic weaponry while Ogryn grip their weapons eagerly.

> Chaos breechin' in'te sectors. Make ready. Emprah P'tects.

Even within this sanctum we could hear the fighting. Soon it was quiet and us last few watched the bay doors of this tomb. A statue of the Emperor stood behind us, the last thing to probably see us alive that didn't have a tentacle for a dick.
> BOOONNNNNGGGGGG
A heavy shell impacted the doors, a great dent blossoming in the metal. We all hunkered down behind our makeshift bulwark, the space marines murmuring their death prayers. Except the flaming Doomed ones, they just watched the doors silently.
> BOOOONNNNNGGGG
> BOOOONNNNNGGGG
> BOOOONNNNNGGGG
> BOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNGGGGGGKRRRRSSSHHHHHHTTT
The shell broke through and molten metal sprayed every where, and the filthy hordes of chaos poured through like puss from a wound. As bolter rounds, cannon fire, and even a las cannom beam poured around me, I calmly switched on to the open vox channel. With a flourish I drew my sword, and picked an old favorite:
> GLORY TO THE FIRST MAN TO DIE!

Then we charged. All of us. We were all going to die as brothers, on the attack, for the future of mankind.

> Ksssssshsshhhhhhhhaaauuughhhhmkkssssssshhhhh

I laid there amongst the bodies. I had lost my hat some where in the brawl. My sword was shattered trying to block a blow from a Slaaneshi daemon and things went black till now. I remember the Doomed Company, their flaming armor suits swatting daemons and chaos marines like flies. It was a fearsome sight until a Greater Demon tore the doors apart and stomped in... that's when the real killing began.
> kksssshhhEmperor....Emperor save our souullllsssssssshhhhh
There was an Imperial Fists marine on me, his weight had broken my leg. The poor giant's helmet was cracked and i could see him looking at me. He mouthed "Sorry" and grinned at me. I grinned back. He reached down, pulling his bolter pistol to me. I nodded and grabbed it, pulling it up to my chest. Together we fastened my broke leg to his good leg, and worked each other to stand up. We both felt better standing, a few pills my way didnt hurt either, and viewed the carnal blood pit that was once our last stand. The daemon spawn had charged through, pushing most of the Imperial Guard under them while the space marines dueled. There was no sign of the Doomed Marines, not even a body to be seen. However what we did see was that a few Imperial Guard were still alive, even a few space marines were twitching under the sheer amount of bodies. We both worked in tandem, and together we scrounged up 8 IG and a grand luck of 9 space marines, including their Captain. We were all in different stages of wounded but we were armed and we were ready.
> Kkkkkkrrrrrsssssshhhhhsssshhhhhhhhh
Guess they found the last survivors, vox was quiet.

With me, my third leg, and the Captain, we led our way through the mountains of bodies to the hanger doors in the hope there was some sort of craft still left intact. No one had been able to leave with the roaming attack ships, but it was sure as hell better than waiting here. Before the doors a Slaaneshi demoness was fucking a Cadian soldier, his hands tied with entrails and mouth gagged with another man's fist. The Captain, enraged, tackled the daemoness and pounded her with his metal fists untill she was just goo on the ground. The Cadian lay there in shock, unmoving. One of the surviving IG wore the same armor as he, and with a short prayer plunged a knife into the man's brain.
> PpppppppsssshpshpshERRGERGGHHHHHERHERHRHRHEHRHRHRHRHRHRHRHRH
My vox exploded with digital chatter and i looked around, finally spotting a jivving servo claw. With some effort we pried the thing from the body mound and found it attached to a tech priest. A lucky find, I hope.
His vocal servo was shattered but he did his best with hand gestures and bursts of binary. The things we saw enroute to the hanger doors were just a glimpse of what was to come on other planets: Men and women on spikes, skinned alive, bursting with nurgle rot, flayed and still moving as the air stung their organs. Its must have been a merry hunt, for no other daemons remained to torture their quarry further, moving on to fresher victims. The long corridor had some surprises, as we picked up 2 more IF space marines, and 7 more IG. Together we stalked slowly through until we finally came into the hanger. Laying cockeyed, but intact, was one of the Thunder Birds. The Tech Priest burbled some binary and gave us the thumbs up, so we loaded onto it, priming weapons systems and firing up the engines. The Tech Priest glurgled and burbled happily as he sat at the controls, the Captain taking the copilot seat and my third wheel gave me a proper splint.


LOCATION: DELTA VAULT
HOME OF: BLOOD RAVENS CHAPTER
DAYS SINCE DEPARTURE: 3652

///LOG NO. 680 OF GABRIEL ANGELOS - CHAPTER MASTER///

Its taken some time, but we have successfully cataloged all relics of the Vault we've been assigned to. Vault Omega. Our new home.
Now that the cataloging is complete... We're not entirely sure what to do. There are no more relics to collect,... the Dreadnought, Jonah Orion suggested we become the scribes of the Ship, and keep document of important events in our sector of the ship.
This is an... admirable goal. Yes, I think this shall be our new mission. Guard the Holy Relics of Man, and document the happenings if Sector Keler 384
On a more personal matter I have been informed that the Eldar craft would our Battle Barge was attached to when we jumped through the Warp remains have been found in a cargo hold in the aft section of the ship.
The tale of how this came to be... is for another time.

I was asked, along with my honor guard to investigate the crash site. according early scans, the Eldar have made the remains of their Craftworld into a city of sorts. Since Mankind is now allied with the Xenos, it would only make since to find them. Although my Brothers and I still greatly disdain the scum, but we must agree with the God-Emperors wishes. The Eldar are now our Allies, and we must make amends, for the betterment of the Ship.

As of right now, my Battle Brother-Honor guards are now on a tram to the Cargo bay that is the home of these Xenos.
It should take no more then 8 months to reach it. In the mean time, we shall enter stasis to speed the process along.
On a side note, the Craftworld we dragged along with us, was Biel-tan.
I wonder if Macha was on board when we made the jump.

///LOG NO. 682 OF GABRIEL ANGELOS - CHAPTER MASTER///

We have arrived at the sight of the the crashed Craftworld.
It is now I realize that this is, in fact not an Eldar Craftworld, it is a Void Stalker, which is the second largest type of Eldar space vessel.

A large amount of The Xenos seem to have reset back to a primitive state at a shocking rate. I think it might have been their exposure to the Warp. They've split into several warring tribes, the dominate of which is a tribe that call themselves The Web Walkers.
We've established a small base camp on a large, unused landing bay several miles above the wreckage of the Eldar Ship.
Cyrus has volunteered to lead a small force down. Personally I'd like to have Captain Talpaisis, but he was called away on a mission by the Chapter Apothecaries.

///LOG NO. 683 OF GABRIEL ANGELOS - CHAPTER MASTER///

Sargent Cyrus and his scouts have reached the outer perimeter of Eldar Territory. They were not met with hostility, instead they were met with a festival in their honor. The Primitive Eldar said that the Bolts for told their coming. When asked what 'The Bolts' were, the leader of the Eldar took them to a storage crate that had been drawn on. The bolts that held the massive crate together we all connected, the Leader said that with these they could see the future.
Cyrus asked why they relied on the 'Bolt's' and not the wisdom of the Farseer. The Leader looked at him confused and said he had never heard of such a thing.
Cyrus and his team humored the Eldar with their festival before moving onto the the next tribe.

I am extremely curious as to what they will find.

///LOG NO. 684 OF GABRIEL ANGELOS - CHAPTER MASTER///

The scouts have moved on to the next the next tribe. The last one proved futile in most every manner. What ever strange Warp powers have effected them has reset them to a point well beyond the mental reach of my Battle Brothers. Perhaps with aid from Librarians or Apothecaries, they might improve, but until then, it has been decided they shall remain where they are.
I am hopeful that the other Eldar tribes will bare better fruit then this one.

On a side note, I should state that this Void Walker was a subcategory of the Craftworld Biel-tan, this raised me curiosity on our search greatly.
Many, many years ago I... knew an Eldar Witch from that world. A farseer by the name of Macha.
I felt a strange connection with her. Jonah Orion, long before his internment in a mighty Dreadnought, told me that it is possible our destiny were intertwined.
I never understood what that meant. I just assumed he was joking with me, but after meditating on the manner, I believe he may be right.
Perhaps Macha is on this remains of this Void Walker...
Perhaps it was the will of the God-Emperor that the Fleet of the Blood Ravens and a Fleet of the Biel-tan met on that fateful day so long ago... well.... for the Imperium it was long ago, for us, it was a mere ten years ago.

///LOG NO. 685 OF GABRIEL ANGELOS - CHAPTER MASTER///

The second tribe better then the first, these ones still remembered their past, but has lost all their Farseers in the crash. When asked if Macha was among them, they claimed she was the leader of the Red Sleepers to the far north. The tribal Eldar then attacked Cyrus and his team. The tribe was quickly dispatched. Whatever advanced Eldar weaponry they had had before was replaced with simple spears and bows made from bits of metal found all around the massive cargo hold.
I dare say, that these Eldar remind me much of Orks in some ways. Perhaps with out the broken speech.

As for the mobile team, I ordered Cyrus and his team to come back to base camp. When they return, we shall mobilize to this camp. Before the Primitive Eldar attacked, they claimed that the Red Walkers have amazing weapons and armor. This gives me hope that not all Eldar are not effected by... whatever Warp taint has spread to the others.

///LOG NO. 686 OF GABRIEL ANGELOS - CHAPTER MASTER///

I suppose it is time I explained how this Void Walker ship came to be...
The Blood Raven chapter fleet was on an exploration to the galactic North-East, near the Ghoul Stars. We were on a quest for relics lost to Mankind over the years.
During our exploration, the Void Walker ship appeared out of no where from the Webway, and with out hesitation opened fire.
We responded with all the fire power that can be expected from and newly armed Space Marine Chapter Fleet.

Master of the Forge, Martellus had recently equipped the Retribution with an interesting Eldar defense weapon system. He called them Boarding Hooks. They shot from the sides of our mighty vessel into the Void Walker, they were like massive Drop Pods, only they had a Adamantium robe attached to them, this was to keep the Eldar ship from re-entering the Web way and escaping.
We lost fifty brother using those hooks. they did not die on impact... to be clear, they did not die on impact... In fact, I'm not sure they died.
When we received the message about the Ship, we decided to pull out. I order Martellus to withdrawal the hooks, and out Battle Brothers to board them so we could make our escape, but it all happened to fast.

When we made the Warp jump, the hooks were still embedded in the Eldar Ship.
Dragging it into the Warp with us.
It was there, we were lost. For us, it seemed like such a short time... a few months, at the most. But when were emerged, nearly 9000 years had passed... the ship was finished, and nearing ready to launch. We thought our Brothers on the Eldar Ship dead, the let it go, to drift among the stars.
We boarded the Ship, and took our place.

///LOG NO. 687 OF GABRIEL ANGELOS - CHAPTER MASTER///

We have arrived at what we believe to be the Red Walkers base. It looks exactly like what a normal Eldar Camp would look like.
We have yet to make official contact with them, as if these Eldar are not effected by the strange Warp aliment that the others are effected by, they are in all likely hood to open fire.
Not that this is an issue, as we could easily wipe them out. But under the Orders of the God-Emperor we must try and work with this Xenos.
I remember Macha being reasonable, so perhaps this will be... simple enough.

///LOG NO. 688 OF GABRIEL ANGELOS - CHAPTER MASTER///

We have made official contact. The Red Walkers opened fire as first, but when our young Librarians steps forth and created a Force Dome, allowing us to walk right into the camp. I demanded to speak with their leader. They brought me Farseer Macha, as I had suspected they would.
She in turn demanded to know what in... what ever her god's name is, was going on.
We called for a ceasefire and I spent the better part of the day explaining to the Farseer and her Xeno tribe why they were on the Ship.
At first they found it hard to believe but, thankfully one of our Librarians brought with him a data slate containing a copy of the Treaty made up that allied Mankind with the Eldar race. They spent a whole day reviewing it, as it was quite lengthy.
When they returned to us, they asked why we had come. I explained that they were welcome to come with us so they might rejoin society. They were... hesitant. Their first worry was their brothers and sisters who were effect by the Warp.
I was unsure, but the Librarians steps forth once more and offered, that, with the help of any 'Xeno Witches' in his own words, they could repair their broken minds.
After much debate, and at least two executions of Eldar who were to resistant to the idea, Macha agreed to join us on our voyage home.

///LOG NO. 689 OF GABRIEL ANGELOS - CHAPTER MASTER///

I have contacted the Ordo Xenos to let them know that at least a thousand Eldar need transportation.
My self, the non-primitive Eldar and my Battle Brothers are returning to Vault Omega to cataloger some of the Xeno relics that Machas tribe had been holding onto.
After that... perhaps some well deserved rest.

Year after year guarding this single tunnel. A job that lacks excitement, monotonous, unappreciated and worst of all Fuckin Boring! We're supposed to keep Orks from using this tunnel to infest the rest of the ship. As I've already said, it's boring. Not even the arrival of the Orks breaks the monotony. It happens every few months, we usually outnumber the Orks and even if they outnumbered us we'd still crush their attacks. Orks usually reach up to our shoulders and are frail and malnourished, the most dangerous weapon I've ever seen one yield was a crude ballistic based weapon that jammed about 20 seconds into the firefight. During the first threat level 5 incursion I've seen in my life a single Ork managed to weather the firepower and reach our lines. I gave it a single whack with my Lasgun and its head caved in like an egg.

The commanding officer says that those things are one of the reasons we left our home galaxy. I can't imagine them being a threat. I told him that myself. He said that in our galaxy, Orks stand taller than a man, are able to walk off missing limbs and serious injuries and thousands of them is considered a minor infestation. He said that at this place they don't have any place to grow or become strong and that we're ensuring that they never come to the new galaxy that we reach where they become dangerous. Granted the officer then admitted that he finds it hard to believe as well. All we have is the word of our teachers at school that it used to be that way.

We're not supposed to go into the place to clear out the Orks. We just let the ship itself clear them out. It depressurizes the area so they all drown from no air and then raises the temperature to fry any spores. How many times have I written this in my journal? Better flip back. This is the 34th time I've told it this. It's sad when you write in your journal to break the monotony but then realize it's so bad that the journal just explains the same thing over and over again.

About a week ago something interesting happened. A group of Eldar neared our position. One of them reached up to my stomach, she's probably a child. She smiled and waved before her parents ushered her away before I could wave back. We apparently used to be at war with them. None of us really felt anything about that. The stories said that the conflicts were brutal but centuries on this ship have pretty much caused all enmity between our species to wither and die. I later found out that they had gotten bored with their own role in keeping the ship functional and had swapped to the relatively mobile job of transporting materials around the ship. Maybe I'll try to find a different profession later on, the Foreman said that we could automate everything but we don't because leaving work to do gives everyone something to keep themselves occupied.

>Sector 1242, This is the Bridge. Why have we recieved word of a 30% drop in efficiency?
16 minutes later
>Sorry bridge, gear 14 of sub sector 346 experienced wobbling from inertial stresses. Hive City on top of said gear collapsed, now the entire population is clogging the whole mechanism.
>Flush it with plasma at once, this incident is costing us a whole .001% thrust capacity.

This is Engineer 14039 of group 4095, heading down to fix a leak in a waterpipe.
ETA to site currently 1 week, traveling by boat down the pipe.

ETA now 1 week 5 days, boat has lost sight of the edge of the pipe during hurricane. Fortunately, the size of the boat (2 km in length, 600 meters in breadth) has discouraged the local leviathans from attempting to consume us. The boat travelling with us was a third our size and was not so lucky.

Arrived at leak site. Collaboration with the other 3000 engineers sent to the site has resulted in the discovery of the cause of the leak: A Niddhoggr. Waiting on low yield thermonuclear device from surrounding provinces to eliminate the creature.

Its not all bad in the Mid-Ship Realms.

There ere disturbances in the Infinity Circuit and some of the Ratling Vent Teams reported sounds and vibrations that should not be in that area. They could hear the sounds of war and activity in a part of the ship not officially inhabited.

Given the sounds of war they assumed that it was some ork activity going on.

So the Captains-Council commissioned an Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos, got them a task-force of Crimson Fists and Valhallans and sent them on their merry way.

When they pried open the pedestrian door to that unknown realm they were met with a semi-circle of las-rifles, sandbags and gas-masks.

Last anyone had seen of the Kriegers was during The Ship's departure when the very last of their kind committed suicide-charge boarding actions with micro-nuke back packs against an orkoid armada. One last gasp of a dying breed.

But at least some of them must have made it onto The Ship. Enough of them to currently be settling an area twice the size of Madagascar known as the Kriegen-Reich with a population estimated in the low billions.

They practice war. It is all they are for. Even after absolution was given they can't do anything else any more as everything else was taken from them. And hey are horrifyingly content with this. In any case, so they say, the God-Emperor (and they are one of the last people left who use that name) will maybe need soldiers when they reach Journeys End. So until they are needed they will practice and wait and keep the old ways alive.

The Inquisitor returns to the council some time latter and has the official maps updated.