Pirate Dreadnought

The tale of Latronious the pirate dreadnought came to be when someone on /tg/ asked how to work pirates into the 40K setting. After many cries of 'Freebooterz' and 'Dark Eldar', a drawfag posted a picture of a dreadnought standing in a boat wearing a pirate outfit.

Apparently a writefag thought this was a good idea, because they posted a story of a Blood Ravens dreadnought who had joined up with a band of pirates to loot all day, erry day. It wasn't very action filled and the dreadnought seemed like an awkward fa/tg/uy, but it was a cool concept.

The Story

The deck of the boarding craft hummed under the driving force of the afterburners. Each heavily-armed pirate shifted and jostled in the cramped shuttle, waiting for the action to start.

The small craft, barely fifty meters long, was little more than a pressurised metal box with primitive thrusters at the back and a heavily armoured breaching prow at the front. This left no room for the niceties of space travel - seats, amenities or even personal space were removed in favour of a low-profile boarding shuttle that could quickly and stealthily ram a ship, disgorging the complement of pirates within.

Well, mostly pirates. The space issue on board had been further exacerbated by the presence of a towering metal construct with two short legs and two stubby arms. From one hung a menacing-looking rotary assault cannon, while the other looked like a four-fingered robot arm with a heavy bolter slung under it. The torso was little more than a box with cables snaking from it, and a viewing slit a couple meters up.

"ARE WE THERE YET?"

"No, Latronius. We're not there yet. Just like the last time you asked, and the time before that-"

"IT'S JUST I CAN'T FIDGET, OR I MIGHT KNOCK SOMETHING OVER."

"Well, just run a diagnostic or something. Pilot's doing his best to steer us in."

The construct gave what might be described as a mechanical harrumph, and continued to stand imposingly still. The pirates standing next to it, dwarfed by the metal bulk that imposed on the tiny space, tried to shuffle away.

One of the pirates packed into the throng, who had just joined the band last week, spoke up.

"Uh, Latronius, why are you painted red?"

Every eye in the room turned to the speaker and then tried not to notice the luckless sod who was now the target of the dreadnought's faceless scrutiny. Somehow they just knew that the titan's attention was focused entirely on him. When it spoke through the vox-caster attached to his metallic torso, the crackling voice somehow seemed to drip with controlled fury.

"WHY DO YOU ASK."

"I, er, it's a good colour?"

"IS IT."

"Ye- Yes!"

"I SEE."

By now one of the men next to the eager conversationalist was trying to convey, with his elbows, that shutting up mouth would be an excellent idea. He didn't notice.

"It goes well with, with, those bird things on your shoulders!"

"I SEE."

By now, no-one in the tiny space was breathing except for the idiotic pirate who had finally twigged that it was best to stop talking. No-one moved, or spoke. If the dreadnought wanted to kill all of them right there and then, all he had to do was shoot out one of the walls and they'd all be sucked into the void.

The tension was broken after a few horrible moments when the vox-caster to the cockpit crackled into life.

"Alright guys, we're coming up on the transport. Everyone good to go?"

One of the silent group slowly leaned down to the comms unit and replied.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we're good."

"It sounds awful quiet in there. You boys having a quick pray or something?"

"Something like that."

"Well that's all fine and dandy, but the Emperor's assistance always comes to the prepared. Check your gear, guys."

"Will do. Out."

The atmosphere loosened considerably with the interruption, giving the pirates reason to busy themselves with something that was not the dreadnought. With some coughing and throat-clearing, everyone to a man moved onto the pressing issue of the impending firefight. Weapons were loaded, armour and gear tightened, and in the case of Latronius, on-board diagnostics were run. The pilot's voice erupted from the vox again.

"Sixty seconds! We're going dark!"

The lights and noise on the shuttle abruptly ceased as the engines and power were cut. The idea was to present a dark object that looked just like a meteoroid - until it reactivated engines at the last second and ploughed into the hull of its' latest target.

The boarders clutched lascarbines, gripped flak shields, and generally hung on for dear life as the imperial transport loomed closer in the portholes. There was just enough power remaining to keep navigation and engine ignition online, along with a terse countdown from the pilot to re-ignition.

"Thirty seconds."

"Twenty-five."

"Twenty."

"Fifteen."

"Ten."

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

Everybody except Latronius tensed in the spilt-second, ready for the impending collision.

"Firing thrusters! Everybody brace for impact!"

The shuttle shook and roared under the sudden acceleration, and then jolted unimaginably hard when the specialised prow pierced the dorsal plates of the transport and admitted the front of the boarding craft into the ship.

Shouting and hollering battle-cries, the pirates poured out the front hatch and cut down a stunned naval provost with a volley of lasfire. The dreadnought followed the crowd from behind, his heavy metal legs plodding over the wreckage the boarding manoeuvre had made of the deckplates. Pilot jogged out of the shuttle after him, holding a battered laspistol and a sword.

"Can't wait, Latronious? Apparently this shuttle's carrying fruit! Real, honest-to-Emperor fruit!"

"I WOULDN'T KNOW. I DON'T EAT."

"Ah. I, er. Ah."

"YOU GO ON AHEAD. I'LL CATCH UP."

"Er, yes. Thanks."

The grateful pilot ran ahead to join the rest of the raiding party as they carved their way through the defenders and down the hall.

The dreadnought plodded behind, his slow gait relegating him to a rearguard action. Latronious saw little fighting from his position behind the main battlefront, but his boredom was briefly alleviated by a naval crewman leaping out from behind a bulkhead and shrieking in fright when he saw what he was trying to gun down. A quick swipe with the close-combat arm reduced the errant crewmember to paste, and Latronious moved on.

Eventually the walker reached the main group, where the crew of the transport were putting up a determined fight in a cross-junction. Already three of his fellow pirates were dead, and a fourth was sitting against the wall nearest Latronious to nurse a vicious-looking shrapnel wound. The wounded pirate looked up at the arrival of the band's dreadnought, and gestured around the corner towards the source of gunfire.

"Latronious! Thank god you're here. They're sitting behind a barricade with shot-cannons!"

"NOT FOR LONG. WAIT HERE."

Latronious strode around the corner and waited for the crewmen behind the barricade to stop firing. They stared in dumbfounded recognition at one of the Emperor's dreadnoughts standing before them in a boarding action. He permitted them a few seconds of utter confusion before spinning up his assault cannon and spitting a wave of bullets at the barricade. Within a second the entire group had been pulped into scrap metal and gore, clearing the way for the rest of the pirate band. As they ran past, some thanked the dreadnought for his timely help.

The transport crew's resistance became more desperate the closer the pirates came to the bridge. Hold workers and even scribes picked up arms and tried to stop the invading force, but were always overrun by the presence of the huge red dreadnought that stalked the corridors and blasted away barricades and sealed doors with impunity.

The bridge's crew kept their arms raised in the air, shaking in their aquilla-branded boots. The leader of the raiding crew stalked among them with a scavenged shot-gun, giving the occasional terrified hostage the evil eye.

"I'll repeat myself, then. Who has the access codes?"

No-one dared reply, their attention diverted somewhat to survival but mostly to the Blood Angels dreadnought skulking in a corner of the bridge. Latronious was unaware of the effect he was having on the bridge crew, as he was currently attempting to gently operate one of the consoles with his huge digits. Before he'd been entombed, he would have been able to do something as simple as operate a button. He'd have been able to share the fruity plunder that the ship was carrying. Somehow the 'honour' of being interred in a Dreadnought sarcophagus was worse than death. It cut you off from the world. You spoke with a vox-caster. You walked with servos. You saw with pict-recorders. And he felt with nothing. He couldn't feel the panel beneath his mechanised hand, only the slight resistance it provided as the whole workstation gave way under his arm-

Latronious was suddenly aware that people had been speaking. He'd crushed the tiny console and the whole set-up it was attached to in his angry reverie, drawing the instant attention of the room in the way only 5-meter robotic killing machines can.

"UH. SORRY. WAS IT IMPORTANT?"

One of the crew stammered, scared out of his mind at the sight of the wreckage and its' cause.

"I, I, I don't - think so, I, oh Emperor, Emperor preserve me, we, we'll give you the, the codes."

The raid leader grinned and spun the hapless speaker around to face him.

"Well, it's your lucky day m'boy! Write them on this slate here and we'll see about letting your crew go."

After the remaining naval crewmen had been safely jettisoned in an escape pod, the pirate crew cheered and spread out through the ship. Impromptu parties broke out on different decks, and soon the hundred-strong raiding party was celebrating their most recent acquisition. Latronious wasn't able to have anything to do with the parties - dancing would have made the floor give way, he ate using a tube and amasec wouldn't have even slightly buzzed his superhuman metabolism. He resigned himself to moping in the vehicle bay, the only place on the ship where his large bulk didn't take up all available space and he was assured of some quiet.

Even that was interrupted, as a duo of revelling pirates entered the bay, and made a beeline for the sulking dreadnought.

"OH. HELLO LUCIUS. HELLO KERGHAN."

"Ah, Latronious. We were wondering if-"

"IF YOU COULD USE THE VEHICLE BAY FOR ANOTHER PARTY? IF YOU COULD INTRUDE ON MY PEACE AND QUIET? IF YOU COULD FLAUNT YOUR EATING AND DRINKING RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE? OH, WAIT, I DON'T HAVE A FACE ANY MORE. NOT AFTER A HIVE TYRANT MELTED IT OFF ALONG WITH HALF MY BODY."

The two pirates quickly lost their grins and stopped approaching upset dreadnought.

"NO, GO AHEAD. NO REASON WHY YOU SHOULD THINK OF THE SOULLESS MACHINE IN THE CORNER."

Latronious knew on some level he was being a complete asshole to the pair, but he'd had enough of the pirates' shit. He swivelled his torso around to face the wall, and silently sulked like a child.

"We wanted to ask you if you wanted to be the first to blow off the bolts on the cargo bay doors, but if you're determined to be a complete bastard and mope-"

"WAIT. WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"We thought you might like to open the cargo bay first. You're the one who convinced the crew to give us the access codes, so we decided to give you the honour. But now it looks like Thale's going to do it, as you're so unhappy with everyone."

The dreadnought remained silent for a moment, and then swivelled back around to face the two pirates.

"I'M SORRY. I WAS UPSET."

"We kinda got that."

"IF I HAVEN'T BEEN TOO MUCH OF AN ASSHOLE, WOULD I STILL BE ABLE TO TAKE THAT OFFER?"

One of the pirates posed in mock thought.

"Hmm. You did just chew us out for trying to throw a party you just invented."

The other joined in, raising his eyebrows at Latronious.

"And you didn't even listen to what we had to say..."

Both pirates then looked at each other, pantomiming decision.

"We might..."

"...if you agree to blow the doors off with your assault cannon."

Latronious grinned inside his sarcophagous. Thank the Emperor for reasonable people.

"IT'S A DEAL."

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Thought For The Day:

Service to the Emperor starts from within.

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See Also

• The thread of origin: [1]