The Fabricated Tales
of
Alpha
Capharius DC-12-9/5/9/ZT5F412A0
Yes dear reader I am thankfully
able to retain my fully humanised portion of my brain and am able to
communicate with the wit and charm that is custom to many holo-novels that
grace the cubicle receptacles of any good waste recycling repository. These are my memoirs that have not been
redacted or censored by my superiors or the Inquisition as I have buried them
deep within my core memory inside a heavily coded and protected sectioned
processor.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++1H4T-78G/76HH56++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Subject in unaware that his
neural network has been compromised at this point.
Worm implanted.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
What can I say about Core Theta,
if there was a Forge World that was most likely to be awarded the best and
brightest, then – Core Theta won... ten millennia ago. Today it is a creaking machine that punishes
any creativity, any thought that is not the same as the thought that was before
is erased and censured. I - and this was my problem, I viewed myself always as
an individual, not part of the great machine and this made me enemies and made
me in turn come to despise and ultimately dislike the great undertaking. I
could not waste anything, I constantly hoarded everything, and as such I was
seen as someone that many would come to for items that might be viewed as
contraband. Yet if it was discarded in
the first place and forgotten in the past, how can it be contraband, which is
how I argued it to my superiors. It was
while I was being examined yet again for such an incident that the Inquisition
came for me.
I had heard of them, read about
them, but was not really prepared for them.
Curiosity was what drove me, and I saw the potential of leaving this
dreary world of insects and emerging into a universe of greater knowledge. This excited me more than any potential of
being executed as a heretic.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++1H4T-78G/7U7YS2++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Subject needs neural bomb
implanted with mnemonic trigger.
Careful
monitoring needs to be made, vigilance at all times.
Equipment and person to be regularly searched
at random intervals.
Suspect heresy, but
expect great potential as an operative.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
So began my new life in the
employ of the Inquisition, my past life was nothing now, filed away in a locked
partition, in a disused portion of my memory with a sign saying “beware of the leopard
squirrel”. ++EMMA++ I should describe myself at
this stage. I am of optimal height,
being 1.8 metres in height, my weight is variable depending on my augmetics so
I shall not list it. I have not body
hair, that having been lost due to radiation exposure, what flesh I have
remaining is pale, Caucasian tone and with the implants gives off a metallic
smell. My eyes were replaced with lenses
which is such a convenience over soft flesh.
I keep the mummified remains along with my testicles as good luck
totems. I am though, which I am proud to
announce, a fully functioning male, which many a partner has testified to.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++1H4T-3/D34/448Y+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Subject to be tested at maximum
pain threshold plus fifty percent initial, then increase in increments of
ten. To be determined at a time of
convenience and ship board rotation.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I was escorted to the shuttle
which left the planet of Core Theta and docked with a ship class of which I am
still to this moment unable to classify.
My companions (whom I shall eventually introduce) called it “big”, which
was an understatement. It was clearly as
large as an Emperor designated class ship, though I suspect otherwise, I could
not find anything within my data files that could classify it. The ship was curiously new, unlike most
Imperial ships, which I confess I have had little interaction with. Standard Imperial ships tend to show their
age, like much of the Imperium, rust, constant repair, malfunction sections, pooling
water, and vapours. These things were
not evident on this ship. Clearly
whoever I was now in the employ of had power, power to control manufactories which
produced recent material, more likely more reliable systems than those millennia
in operation. This was clearly going to
be a fascinating time, if I lived long enough.
My quarters were spacious
compared to my last; there was an excellent and well equipped machine shop and
fabricating area in which I could create to my greatest wish as I was
informed. All my requests though had to
be routed though through the Inquisitor or Mistress as she was to be addressed
as when in her presence. Not long after
being settled I was taking into the primary medicae/fabricate and given a
number of medications and upgrades, some obvious, some I am only now becoming
aware of. The unwelcome ones I will have
to do something about to circumvent in time.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++1H4T-3-4G8/7HJK++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Subject to be memory wipe of this
awareness.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Where was I? Eventually I discovered I had been given some
marvellous upgrades, my optics improved, a servo harness attached and my
personal hand gun upgraded (and warned not to lose it, a lot of these warning
were to be given over the lifetime of our association). My flesh may be diminishing, but my machine
is fully operational. Every time I see
the electrical catalogue now some part of machine spirit comes erect with
pleasure.
Time passes on the ship and I
find that there are other operatives with whom I will have to interact with
from time to time. I am restricted to
certain sections of the ship; generally a bully boy brain dead naval guard
shoves a boarding gun in my face and demands I go back the other way. How rude is my response, how rude. My quarters have another door which leads to
a central chamber, where I meet the Mistress and two other operatives. One is a female, dressed in what she assumes
is fine fashion, the other a male hillbilly huntsman with enough hair to make a
sheep blush in envy. We all eye each
other suspiciously, yet a word of command from the Mistress and we lose all
immediate animosity towards each other.
Mistress explains to us that we
have journey some time to a find another star ship which has a tie with the
noble house of the girl she identifies as Belle. I have pointed out to me the noble looking
woman that seems almost borderline mutant by Imperial codification, but who am
I to judge, I’m not strictly human anymore either. Mistress hands Belle a device which I know as
a Field Generator or Power Field, a very rare and valuable piece of
technology. This device she tells Belle
is a copy, and the original has been returned to her father (for some reason I
feel this may not be the full truth, to me the device looks like it’s the
original and daddy has the copy).
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++1H4T-3-4G8/7SRT++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Subject to be memory wipe of this
awareness.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
What’s wrong with my memory at
the moment I’m losing my train of thought? Right, Belle has been given her
device, which will apparently allow her to access areas of the ship. Well it’s theorised it will. We have been informed that the first to
shuttles that approached were destroyed by the ships defence platforms. Not comforting words to hear. A third shuttle did however get through but
no further communication has been received.
We are now being sent over to investigate.
Supplemental Data: The ship was a
pre-Heresy colony ship. The ship has
four sectored areas, each seeming to align to the realms of the primitive
planet the two other operatives have come from.
There is scoring on the outer hull of the ship which I have identifies
as being consistent with an attack from a possible Tyranid bio-organism of type
unknown.
Our primary mission is to
investigate the ship and why it is still powered and functioning. Secondly we are to find and locate any
materials or the person of Lord Thalaneus Delmarus (though I may not have
decoded the phonetic spelling correctly from Mistresses vocal patterns). Mistress also gave the two members accompanying
me additional orders that my head was to be brought back at all costs. I had internal diagnostic alarms from several
systems go off at once alerting me to potential danger and I made the Mistress
aware of her poor choice of wording to this command. She smiled a particularly wicked grin as she
corrected he instructions with minimal intent.
This did not on the whole leave me with a lot of confidence in my companions
who were already sizing my head up.
Being bald does have its advantages!
Hang on; something is wrong with
my cogitator. The other member of the team! That male gothic rocker with the long hair
and bad halitosis which would kill a tyranid at twenty paces. Yes well he is called Christopher Robins,
no... Chris Rock... definitely something wrong with my cogitators. Well I shall
call him – Edna... something definitely wrong with my
>run diagnostics
> error corruption
> error corruption – root diagnostics
[background singing “he’s a
lumberjack and he’s OK... dresses in women’s clothing... wears high heels...
just like his mother”]
>reboot successful
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++1H4T-22/PO/WE4+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Subject susceptible to too many surveillance
incursions,
reduce level to category tertiary and monitor.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Christopher is the other member
of the team and identified himself as a lonely hunter, but appears to be a
lumberjack. Spotted a number of women’s
apparel tucked away in his backpack, clearly living alone in the woods has
produced an interesting behaviour pattern.
Both team members while they have
been mem-implanted with imperial scholastic basic knowledge and some training
are still primitives. I am finding it
very hard not to have fun at their expense in the coming months if not years at
their ignorance.
Mistress provides us with a
tracked servitor to assist me (yes me) in carrying any items that may be
acquired in our investigation. I should
point out that I created this marvellous device in my workshop, it is an exceptional
piece of equipment and only stopped working when Lumberjack Chris (hereafter referred
to as LC or Elsie) touched it, not through any shoddy work on my behalf. My work is par excellence, and always will
be. I donned a fine Mechanicus style
robe which I had armoured up for body protection. I travel light, so to speak, while the natives
went packed to the teeth with more weapons than a porcupine.
As a group we entered the shuttle
that would ferry us to the mystery ship.
Space travel is still new to us and I for one regurgitated my last meal,
which I then re-consumed – waste not is my motto. This act seemed to distress some on board, I
can’t understand why, the paste nutrient is perfectly edible not matter it
state. The pilot proved to be an utter
bastard though and clearly pulled a few more manoeuvres to get a few more
vomits from the passengers – some wager was being made. Elsie made note of the pilots name, I don’t
think he will enjoy his ministrations when we get back.
We approached the target. Sweat trickled down the pilots face, and his
body tensed – finally he relaxed as we passed some line in the sand which was
the previous danger zone. So we weren’t
part of the previously destroyed two shuttles now. We just had to make sure we did not become
the non-communicative third shuttle.
Slowly we approached and the
pilot found us a docking port, which slowly activated. The pilot indicated that it appeared to be
malfunctioning to some degree as certain ship activities had not been
automatically activated. For instance
when the airlock opened to the vacuum, much of the contents inside the area not
secured was sucked into space.
Eventually the bay doors open allowing the shuttle to enter and activate
the seals.
Once the seal was in place, the
pilot told us that a shuttle would come back for us, when the Mistress decided
a shuttle would be sent back. I guess we
should have asked for more explicit questions before leaving. We were then also told we had to bring the
tracked servitor back as well – or else.
The or else had me a bit worried.
This whole mission was starting to have my diagnostics send alarm
warnings to many of my hyper alert systems and many of my mechadentrites were
twitching in agitation.
Supplemental Data: During our
travel inbound to target to icon which Lady B was wearing heated up at one
point in the journey then went stone cold.
My diagnostics noted that were was a signal broadcast from the item, but
I was unable to adequately locate the frequency or replay the data to any
satisfaction.
The pilot gave us a very short
period of time to clear the landing bay before he exited, so we had to scramble
to the “relative” safety of the loading area.
Thankfully the area was empty with the exception of shipping containers,
fuel drums and storage boxes. Nothing
was moving, I could make out no immediate threat in the vicinity, not that my
sensors were primed at that stage to do so.
A debate ensued as to what our course of action should be? Looting became the primary focus. I won’t bore you with the details suffice it
to say we found riches beyond a richest mans dreams and lost it at the sound of
the Mistress’ voice coming from the tracked servitor. Before I come to that; there was just a
little bit of excitement.
I was tasked with opening one of
the sealed shipping containers while the others were about the
environment. One of them, not me mind
you, must have triggered an alarm. It
certainly was not me and my unfamiliarity of ten thousand year old technology
that cause the alarm to go off – certainly not.
I pointed my finger at Elsie and accused him of have tripped some
security mechanism. Elsie ran to the
only door he could see leading in, that we had not entered into and waited to
for whatever was going to come in.
The door hissed opened and in
clanked a desiccated looking servitor of a model I was certainly not familiar
with. It thankfully blurted in binary as
well as a form of gothic the primitives could understand, it was demanding
authorisation and clearance to be in this area, failure to do so would result
in the summoning of security and lethal force.
We failed to convince it that we should be in this area and panicked. Well,
the primitives panicked, I remained calm, thought logically and deduced that
the icon Lady B had needed to recharge.
I was a walking battery, I could easily recharge this device. Well that was easily said than done, AC to DC
is all I can say, nearly fried us both but we or I got it to work and as the
gun servitor arrived to mow everyone down in a hail of large calibre bullets
Lady B commanded them to stand name.
Disaster averted, for the moment.
A small reprieve was granted and
it was back to looting. Inside one of
the shipping containers was a sectors worth of riches in rejuve drugs, not the
risky stuff produced today but the pure pre-Heresy stuff. It was at this time I became aware that I was
wired for sight back to the mother ship.
A crackling vox contact was heard advising that a shuttle was inbound
and that the goods found would be immediately collected, we had proven our
worth to the Inquisition. We were told
well done. We decided to continue to
open the remaining containers and boxes.
A huge surprise was the stasis stored concubine, she was bound to serve
the lord of the house, which was in this case Lady B. This did not bother the concubine at all as
to the sex of her master or mistress.
Elsie was getting rather hot under the collar and a bit stiff at the
sight of an extremely scantily clad courtesan of the time. Didn’t bother me in the least, though my pict
recorder was working overtime.
It happened at this time that the
servitor advised Lady B that a mass of Xenos were approaching this room at
great speed and would be inside the room in moments. Another gun servitor had appeared, which gave
us three servitors to block the narrow corridor, hopefully giving us enough
time to prepare ourselves of the alien onslaught. It was at this time a debate ensued of the
word Xenos, the primitives did not know the word. Combat ensued, during which I was sent to see
if the containers could be opened from the inside – they could. I advised Elsie that hiding behind promethium
drums would be detrimental to one’s health if they exploded. Again had to explain the concept of
explosions to the primitive mind! The gun
servitors died horribly, then the concubine (a trained bodyguard) and the
servitor (unknown configuration) ripped the other Xenos to pieces. Battle over it was back to looting, which
everyone was more than happy to do over killing things. Combat is such a risky thing; you might
actually get hurt or worse die!
The search found the first clue
to Lord Thalaneus Delmarus, in a trunk of books. I was looking elsewhere at the time, which is
how I found out that there was an audio pickup in the feed link to the
Inquisitor. I am really going to have to
do something about this imposition on my freedom, or earn enough trust that she
will remove them in time. I hope. Lady B got greedy and stuffed two random
books away hoping that the Mistress would not know about the theft. We also found some grenades which we found
with some lovely colours on them. No
idea what the pattern means, my sensors are showing warning signals, so I’ll
leave them alone for the moment. My
whole creed of waste not came to the fore as I secured a crate load of old data
slates of porn. The concubine showed
Lady B one of the slates and said she would be more than happy to teach if she
so desired, it just required a very supple body. I found the jackpot animated tentacle masterpiece
Debbie Does the Ommnisiah which is often whispered about, everyone has claimed
to have seen but no one has ever actual produced an actual copy. I now had one! Oh what I could make in prestige
in finding this piece of lost data would be priceless!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++1H4T-F/34/56ZXR
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Subject is the greatest threat to
the Mechanicus I have come across to date.
The lost animated data slate alone would do such irreparable damage to
the collective systems of the Mechanicus it is best that the slate remain in my
personal archive sealed for my own research purposes.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
While we were heaping the goodies
together for the Mistress, we heard the shuttle arrive in another docking port,
and by the sounds of it a much large one from the one we entered. Not long after that the goon squad of happy’s
arrived in advance of a power armoured female.
The armoured warrior revealed themself to be the Mistress, who again
congratulated us on securing the previous items. A heavy loading servitor came in and
collected all the items in the area, everything, including my collection of
special data slates. The Mistress was giving me very strange when I asked that
the crate load of data slates be given over to me and she gave me a very
serious warning look not to press my luck.
She looked at Lady B and demanded the two books she had hidden and an
explanation why she had decided to keep them from her. Satisfied with her answer, she did not kill
Lady B, which surprised me almost as much as it did Lady B for the trickle of
urine running down her leg must have been just from her urgency to use the
facility than through any fear of death.
Our instructions were to continue
our investigations. Clear this section and await extraction upon her
clearance. Again I heard the words her
clearance and instructions, sounded like we could ask for extraction and it
could be denied. Not very comforting.
It was back to what we were good
at, exploring, missing clues, interpreting data incorrectly and of course me
messing with Elsie! We discovered a
workshop with bits and scrap, clearly an assembly and maintenance area for
servitors. Elsie did a search, didn’t
know any of the items he picked up. He
found a screw driver and asked me what it was, I decided to have some fun with
him. I said it was a swizzle stick. He asked what a swizzle stick was? I said that they next time the Mistress asked
him to her quarter he should use the swizzle stick, and I made suggestive
movements with it. It was again at this
point I realised that all of this was being transmitted back through the link
to the Mistress. I’m screwed I thought,
well and truly screwed when we get back on board. I managed to get a data terminal working a
pulled up the layout of the immediate area.
The security area was where we decided to go and have a look. That proved to be a big mistake!
The security area, well, it
turned out to be a locker room. I used
my cutting tools to open the first locker and activated a knock out grenade
taking out Lady B and myself. Elsie
seeing this happen beat a hasty retreat from a gas of unknown origin and went
investigating. He found a treasure trove
of items which quite frankly should have come into the hands of a person of the
Mechanicus. However fate had chosen him
to be the bearer of the items, so perhaps the items comes with some curse that
is best left to those who deserve them.
Quite a booty he collected, an Omnissiah Axe, Laslock pistol, Security
ring and wand, the list goes on. The one
thing he did get that is the most galling is an Artificial Intelligent
Automation in the form of a squirrel.
Once Lady B and I were back on our feet and met this beast, it took an
immediate dislike to me, and I to it – but only due to it hostility to me. At one stage it gave me the finger, Elsie
asked what that gesture meant. I told
him it was a universal gesture of greeting and that when he gets back on board
ship he should smile and give the finger to everyone he meets as a
greeting. It was again at this point I
remembered the link, and thought of my impending doom. But I was having so much fun teasing the
primitives, I could not help myself.
Thankfully the rest of the
looting went without too much risk.
Found a body with another swizzle stick in it, couldn’t convince Elsie
to take it. The damn squirrel learnt to
speak to a degree, and finally Elsie grew wise enough not to trust a word I
said. I just grinned at him and said,
why do you think I got tossed off my Forge World, I’m a prick, no one likes me.
We found the masters armoury,
discovered a container labelled fishing gear, and were surprised to find it filled
with grenades. Again we got the message,
stand by for pick up, do not use grenades under any circumstances, danger to
self and environment. There were crates
with weapons and antique power armour, again priceless beyond the richest mans
dreams. Yet the my greatest dream was
the automation discovered in the last room we found just before
extraction. Inside was device I so
desperately wanted, and what made me even more frustrated was that the AI
Squirrel could link with the machine, it powered it up and it was activating
its weaponry. I exited the room at speed
before it could obliterate me in a peak of displeasure.
It was an uneventful return flight. The pilot didn’t do anything silly
considering who was on board. We were
all taken to the central briefing room where we were dressed down. Our faults were all laid bare, yet in the end
the Mistress was happy with the results despite what our faults were. Mind you when she got to me her words were
(and I shall leave the narrative here) “Alpha Capharius as a individual you
have displayed arrogance, pettiness, manipulative cunning, deviancy, abnormal
depravity, greed, and excess.” I looked
at her and said, not able to help myself, “so your quarters 10:30 tonight?” to
which she replied with an evil grin “no – make it 5:30 and bring the swizzle
stick!”
Well I hoped you enjoyed the
first instalment of the Dark Heresy Role Play Adventures I am part off. Yes it is adult in content, yes a little
perverted, but I am trying to milk every line from every movie and TV series I
have seen over 50+ years. I quoted Black
Adder, Monty Python, Red Dwarf, Benny Hill.
I decided that with the link to the ship the crew would be watching the
antics live and that the show would be called Carry on Adeptus Mechanicus. My one liners and my ability to make people
laugh, especially poor Simon the Game Master made my day, as I laughed as well.
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