Extraction — A Warhammer 40K Fan Fiction — Part 1

10 Jul

A river of snaking coils expand and collapse at the pace of a beating heart around the thin robed figure of an astropath. Draped in royal reds, clear tubes sit locked into brackets in his gaunt chest. His white glaucomic eyes race and swivel as the bundles of fibreoptics begin to shake violently with the thump-beat of his straining heart. An ocean of blackness washes over him as planets grow larger and shrink away. In the distance, a solitary white star.

He pauses, the network of tubes halting their rhythm in lockstep. As he draws closer to the star and its shimmering white walls a layer of sweat envelops his coporeal body. He steps through the wall of the great white star and inside there is only blackness. Looking down he sees a world, its vast carpet of bristling black spires featuring more prominently than the landscape of the planet itself. As he watches, one of the spires topples, a red-white blip pulsing from its center mass.

Around him a cadre of astropaths gather, socketless eyes not seeming to hinder their gaze upon their comrade. The fibreoptics shudder and they wait, patiently.

In the void the astropath traces the faint afterglow of some weapon system from the falling spire and his gaze is set upon a dark swarming mass in low atmosphere. Pieces of the swarm drop violently into the world below. At the perimeter of the swarm a mass of junked metal. More and more, the surface of the world below is dotted with fiery embers that spiral outward too slowly. Time stops as he dives deeper, hitting a wall of indescribable violence. He works the tendrils of his mind into the chaos tenderly.

In the flickering light of the astropath’s chamber tubes break free from their host, snapping and crackling with an eldritch energy. The astropaths in attendance move quickly to detach the network of cables from the astropath in communication. He slumps to the floor. One of the robed blind men kneels next to him and lowers his head at a slant.

Five, zero, zero, two. Eta, delta. One. System, sector, world. As the breath escapes him the party somberly lifts the ragged figure and proceeds from the room and into the dim corridor. From atop his assistants he coughs blood. Orks. The receiving astropath departs the chamber in a different direction.

Five hours after an astropath reaches the CIC and contacts the Lord Admiral, the Strike Cruiser Excelsior departs from Macragge and enters the Warp with a battle company of the Emperor’s finest, the Ultramarines. From a fortified Imperial garrison performing overwatch at the edge of a galaxy, a flotilla of auxiliary Imperial Guard are attached to the mission. Imperial navigators, mutants attuned to the Warp, guide their ships of war through the psychic slipstream toward the dying forgeworld.


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