Title: Alpha Plus

Author: The Lord J

Rating: Right now probably PG-13, but expect NC-17 to appear in this later on.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, we all know who owns the Buffy characters etc blah blah, Joss, blah blah ME etc. A lot of other characters were borrowed from Dan Abnett’s “Eisenhorn” Novel.

Feedback: Yep, please. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Description: This is AU. Completely. Forget Sunnydale, this is set in the Warhammer 40,000 universe – war, death, and everything nasty you could ever imagine is part of everyday life, it’s a bleak outlook. This is set somewhere in the middle of the novel “Eisenhorn” by Dan Abnett; Eisenhorn had just taken on a new member of his retinue, a certain redhead by the name of Willow Rosenberg...

Notes: I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while. I love the Warhammer 40K fluff, and I‘ve been wondering whether a 40K/Buffy crossover fic would work...well, we’re about to find out. Basically, I’m only going to continue this if it gets enough interest; if it doesn’t, I’ll let it rot until I’ve finished ‘Connections’ (if it ever finishes). Then I might revive it. I’ve tried to make it readable as a stand alone piece, and it’s not beta’d, nor can I be bothered to have it beta’d at the moment. It will, however, help immensely if you’ve read “Eisenhorn”, or are at least familiar with the 40K universe. This will probably be kept quite short unless I feel inspired to continue it.


----

Eisenhorn finally ground to a standstill, doubled over and out of breath. The foul abomination he’d been chasing had had far superior stamina to the inquisitor, and had outrun him, scuttling off into the night, claws flailing. He emptied his last autopistol rounds into the shadows just as it ducked down an alley, struggling to get anything resembling enough strength to aim the gun.

He growled in frustration, and threw down the empty autopistol in a gesture of annoyance. Genestealer’s just didn’t run away. It went against all the intelligence they had ever gathered about the Tyranid race. The things were reported to be fearless, and yet he had just had to chase one to force a confrontation. Something was not right here.

“Gregor?” A familiar female voice called through the night. “Gregor! Where the hell are-“

“Rosenberg.” Eisenhorn bent down, retrieved the autopistol, and straightened himself up. He turned around to face the redhead advancing towards him. The woman’s slim form was covered in a tight black Flexamite bodysuit, which although flexible, could stop an autogun shell in favourable circumstances. Over this she wore a long leather coat, which seemed to flow around her in slow motion. Her red hair was tied up in a ponytail and her eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark glasses.

“It got away,” he stated bluntly.

“I’m not surprised, you shouldn’t be chasing genestealers at your age,” she scolded.

He shot her a steely glance. “Where’s Bequin?”

“She’s coming, she kinda tripped and fell awkwardly on her ankle.” Willow explained.

Eisenhorn’s face didn’t betray a sliver of emotion. Not that it could have even if he had wanted to. Interrogation at the hands of a vicious enemy had seen to that. It didn’t stop the concern creeping into his voice though. “Is she alright?”

“She’s fine. More worried about you than herself,” Willow replied. “Midas got the second one with his needle guns.”

“Good.” He grunted. Midas Betancore, his pilot, could always be relied upon. “Can you sense anything?” He asked.

Willow tuned out the background noise and focussed on the psychic signatures in the vicinity. A Tyranid presence would stand out like a sore thumb. She gradually swept her mind across the surrounding buildings, scanning over most of the dull glows that represented the non-psyker human population. She covered most of the terrain around them, mainly second-rate hab-blocks and slums, and stopped suddenly. There was a bright white light emanating from one of the hab-blocks; searing in it’s intensity. It wasn’t Tyranid though; this was human...but there was something...something different about it.

“Can you see it?” Eisenhorn pushed.

“No.” Willow sighed. She thought about telling him about the psychic presence she could see so clearly, but thought better of it. It was an unnecessary distraction, and besides, it was probably just some local psyker. It didn’t seem malicious, and if it was, it would come to light soon enough and the local Arbites would take care of it. Still, she took a mental note of where it was. “No sign of the genestealer.”

“Show me the dead one.” He commanded, holstering his autopistol.

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne

Seems pretty good so far, though I'm not exactly familiar with the Warhammer setting, but its got my atention so far, so bring on a little more

_________________
"Nothing in the world is the way it ought to be. It's harsh, it's cruel, and that's why there's us. Champions. Doesn't matter where we come from or what we've done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as if the world is as it should be, to show it what it can be." -- Angel

G'day, The Lord J. ( Oh crap, I'm rhyming already. Not a good sign. )

So, a crossover between the Buffyverse and 40K? Not something I would have thought of, but it'll be interesting to see where you take it. I've never read the Eisenhorn books, but I've been a GW nut for years now.

So, you made Willow a psyker, huh? Could be dangerous, what with their susceptibility to daemonic possession, but if she's working for the Inquisition, I'm guessing she's had at least some training in protecting herself.

Up against Genestealers, are they? That's bound to be fun. Hope they aren't going to end up with a 'Nid Hive Fleet on their six.

I'm going to guess that the psychic signature that Will was picking up was Tara. Human, bright white light, searing in it's intensity? Sounds like her to me. I just hope she doesn't get picked up and shipped off to feed the Emperor's Golden Throne or the Astronomican.

Like you said, the 40K universe isn't a nice place to be. After all, 'In the 41st Millennium there is only war'.

Please do keep it coming,
Paul.

_________________
That’s right: In order to make this event LESS popular, the female activists take off their tops and jog in front of onlookers. - Scott Adams, regarding the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona.

Cool! You've combined my two favourite fandoms, Buffy and Warhammer 40k. It's an interesting start, and I'd love to see the story continue. Willow as a psyker - obviously talented and trained, otherwise she wouldn't be in an Inquisitor's retinue? Plus, I like her wardrobe And I think I can hazard a guess as to who the other psychic presence was - which makes me worried in no small amount, seeing as we know what happens once 'stealers get onto a world. I'm really interested in the possibilities of this story, even from this brief introduction there's so much that could happen.

_________________
Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

I dunno much about Warhammer 40000 stuff but you definitely got my attention. Loved it, please continue this story!

_________________
when you're with me, baby the skies will be blue, for all my life..

OK, so I got some inspiration from somewhere, Enjoy

EDIT: Damned board didn't want to post my stuff...then it posted like 4 posts, argh!



PART 2

By the time they got there, the local Arbites had arrived already, and were having a somewhat heated discussion with Betancore.

“What’s the problem?” Eisenhorn butted into the argument.

“A dead genestealer almost next door to my precinct is the problem.” The Arbites commander growled. “And who the hell might you be?”

“Inquisitor Eisenhorn, Ordo Malleus. And you?” Eisenhorn growled, his eyes boring into the young commander.

“Commander Farl, Adeptus Arbites. Forgive me, I was not aware of an Inquisitorial presence in this part of town.” His tone mellowed a little.

“And you still aren’t.” Eisenhorn enforced the command with his will. The Arbites commander blanked for a second, momentarily disorientated by the gentle psychic push. He turned and walked away.

Eisenhorn looked down at the blue and purple monstrosity that lay curled up in the road. Genestealers were just one of the many perils that mankind faced in the forty-first millennium. Part of the Tyranid race, their hunched bodies were a horror to behold; blue chitinous armour plates covered most of their flesh, and long, razor sharp claws sprouted from a second set of arms. Their purple heads were elongated and full of needle-like teeth. What made these beasts even more foul was the fact that they infiltrated the human populace, creating human-genestealer hybrids, that would form an underground cult that sought to protect and nurture more of their kind in secrecy, until like a growing sore the cult would explode upwards violently, causing mass carnage in the habitation above. It was the job of the Inquisition to deal with this threat, amongst others, in the most ruthless, efficient, uncompromising way it possibly could.

Gregor Eisenhorn had fast risen to prominence in the Inquisition; indeed, later in his life he would go on to become one of the most renowned Inquisitors ever to grace the Helican sub-sector. Equally, his staff were some of the best individuals in their field he had ever encountered.

Midas Betancore, pilot and long-standing friend, of Glavian descent, a hot-headed genius of a flyer, capable of pulling off manoeuvres most balked at without even thinking about it. He was also a hell of a shot with his Glavian needle pistols.

Willow Rosenberg, witch and top-rate markswoman, was the newest and youngest member of Eisenhorn’s staff, and more often than not the contingency plan for most of the Inquisitor’s assaults. Able to hit with pinpoint accuracy any target up to hundreds of meters away, she was a master of the sniper rifle, and a formidable witch; her spells had often evened out seemingly insurmountable odds.

Alizabeth Bequin, psychically untouchable, she was one of Eisenhorn’s best weapons. Her mere presence during battle was often the Inquisitor’s saving grace; the psychically-null field that she radiated brought most psykers down to near-useless levels. She was also physically beautiful, and a quick thinker.

Aemos, Eisenhorn’s savant and longest serving staff member, also the oldest of the staff, though no-one cared to ask his full age. He was certainly well into three figures. He was also the victim of a brain-disease that caused him to compulsively record data – which made him an excellent savant, and a fountain of knowledge. His keen analytical mind could often pick out connections and solutions that even the most experienced investigator could not.

And finally, Godwin Fischig, ex-Adeptus Arbites Commander, he was a massive man, even more imposing in his armour; he was a puritan in his worship of the Emperor, and despised anything alien or heretical with a hatred that perhaps only the Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes could match.

Eisenhorn’s brow creased as he peered at the dead tyranid. Something wasn’t quite right. Mutations were common amongst tyranids, but there was something…something vaguely familiar about this one. He kicked it over with his boot to see it’s face.

Ork hybrid.

Eisenhorn’s brow raised.

“Emperor’s throne!” Fischig’s whispered voice broke the silence. “That’s a new one on me.”

“Dangerous, undoubtedly. Probably physically stronger as well.” Eisenhorn agreed.

“An even stronger genestealer?” Rosenberg asked. “That’s gotta be real fun to fight.”

“Took me four shots.” Betancore grumbled. “Fast, but not too smart I’d wager.”

Aemos sidled up to them and started recording as much information as he could about the abomination. “Intriguing…combining a Tyranid exoskeleton with an Ork endoskeleton…” he mumbled.

Rosenberg swatted a stray strand of red hair off her face. “What are we gonna do with it?” She asked as Aemos continued his observations.

Under normal circumstances, a Genestealer corpse would quickly be incinerated byt the Inquisition – the chemicals left behind by a decaying Genestealer were both highly toxic and, worse, had been known to corrupt living tissue into a foul Tyranid-esque parody of what it had once been. Entire limbs could be turned into hideous clawed, armoured, twisted deformities just by contacting the substance. It was something to be avoided at all costs.

However, these were not normal circumstances. As far as Aemos was aware, there had never been a recorded case of an Ork/Tyranid hybrid. Normally Tyranids chose human DNA because it represented an easier target; Ork DNA, being derived from plants, was a much more difficult substance to manipulate. Bio-adepts also joked that the Ork race was simply too idiotic to be useable to the hive mind; it would simply grow tired of the petty bickering and crudeness of the greenskins and would leave them to their own devices – which almost invariably would result in them fighting each other, more than likely to the death.

This, however, was a bit different. The two ‘Stealers they had encountered had seemed to be working as two independent organisms working together, rather than two embodiments of the single hive-mind consciousness that the Tyranid race was known for. The question they faced now was whether they made arrangements for shipping it back to Terra for further investigation by the Inquisition’s bio-adepts.

But, this being Araganon V, getting *anything* off the planet’s surface was difficult, let alone the corpse of a Genestealer/Ork hybrid. Araganon V was a haven for pirates and illegal shipping of every kind; and the planet’s authorities were just starting to clamp down on it all. The planet had been lost to the Imperium until a few years ago when an Astartes ship had chanced upon it and managed to resurrect some semblance of order. A planetary governer had been appointed, and the extent of the illegal traffic was only then discovered. Now security was tighter than anywhere else in the Imperium; even Inquisitors were not above suspicion of smuggling.

Getting such a cargo off the planet without rumours being spread would be doubly difficult; this was not the sort of thing that the public needed to know about. The Emperor’s loyal (but mostly dishonest) subjects could not be hurt by what they didn’t know about. That was the theory. In practice, those that knew of such horrors rarely lasted long enough to tell others about them.

“Bring it back to the ship. We’ll decide what to do with it later. I want to root out the rest of this scum.” Eisenhorn gave it one last kick with the word ‘scum’ for good measure, and turned to start walking.

“Great, a damned Genestealer on my ship.” Betancore grumbled, donning his gloves and lifting up one end of the dead horror that lay on the tarmac. Fischig grabbed the hybrid’s head with his gauntlets and hefted it up.

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne

And some more:


PART 3:

She shivered.

This was not right.

Everything was wrong. Seconds ago she was sat quite happily in her dorm room studying her art history homework. Now, after a brief flash of indescribable pain, she was stood half-naked, in a cold dark back alley in some part of a horrible looking town – and it was dark. Pitch black, almost.

Worse than that, something was stalking her.

She edged back into the shadows, away from the hissing sound she could hear following her. She shrank down to her knees and tried to make herself as small as possible. With any luck the shadows would be enough to conceal her from whoever or whatever was there.

Unfortunately her stalker was not that easy to shake. The horrifically distorted form ambled out of the shadows, it’s movements a curious combination of both gracious and lumbering.

She gasped and her eyes went wide, her breath held, waiting for the inevitable killing blow that would end her life. She had nowhere to run and this thing had anatomy that could only be designed for killing.

The monster closed in, hissing and grunting as it did so, waving it’s claws and arms around as if flexing it’s muscles; but as it got closer, it stopped, shook it’s head as if in confusion, and backed away, stumbling as it went. Then it hissed again, turned, and ran at an incredible speed, vaulting up two stories onto a building opposite the alley, disappearing from view.

She breathed again, and closed her eyes as tears came. What the hell was going on?

A man scuffled along the alley past her, concentrating on the floor and not even looking at the scared blonde girl weeping in the corner. Traumatized by her experience, the girl merely stayed there, crying and trying to figure out what to do.

More people shuffled past her, none of whom took any notice. She was just another down and out on a planet full of them, though she didn’t know it.

Another man stumbled along the alley, bent over with a walking stick, but instead of passing her by, as he neared he slowed to a stop. He lowered his hood to reveal what could only be the face of an aged war veteran. Scars lined his face along with a regimental pip on his forehead that denoted his rank, but his once military-standard haircut was now reduced to tufts of grey sticking out at odd angles; his days in the military were long over. He knelt down near the girl with considerable effort, and peered at her.

He spoke to her, but his language was one not known to the girl. He spoke in a curious, guttural, yet strangely elegant tongue that sounded like none she had heard before; there were traces of English in it’s roots, but making out what he was saying was still impossible.

She shrugged – the universal ‘I don’t know’ gesture.

He simply smiled, stood up, and held out his hand. She took it and he helped her up; he indicated to walk down the alley back the way he had come originally, and they walked together, the girl hugging her sides to try and stay warm.

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne

And some more...I'm on a roll tonight!

PART 4:

He suddenly stopped and looked around quickly, ushering the girl through a small door in the wall that was so well hidden that she had not seen it until now. She walked through, and looked around as he closed the door behind them.

A dim bulb in the ceiling shed barely enough light around the place to see, but it quickly became obvious that this was the man’s dwelling. A simple bed was against one wall, and rudimentary cooking apparatus sat on a worktop at the other side of the room; in between was another door, almost exactly opposite the one they had walked in. There were no windows to be seen and the whole affair looked very run down. Cracks ran up and down all the dirty white walls. The floor was bare wooden boards and the ceiling was the same as the walls.

As the girl stared around, she noticed that there were items scattered about that she had never seen before; devices of unusual design who’s function she could only guess at. They looked in some way futuristic, yet they had obviously been here for some time judging by the accumulated dirt and grime on them.

The man leaned his walking stick against the wall and stood up straight for the first time. The girl noticed with some shock that he was immensely tall; at least seven feet. He was also very well built – or would have been many years ago; mostly it was just a wasted shell of a powerful man left now. His sleeves were now rolled up as he operated one of the devices in the cooking area.

He turned around and handed her a mug full of a steaming clear liquid. He drank from his and gestured to her to do the same. She sniffed it warily and took a sip.

Coffee.

Well, almost. It was clear, but it sure as hell tasted like coffee. She drank a little more, grateful for the heat.

The man sat down on the bed and motioned for her to sit on a chair opposite him. He took a sip from his coffee and spoke a single word to her.

She looked at him blankly.

He blinked, and tried another word.

Still nothing.

He took a sip of his coffee and a thoughtful look crossed his face.

He looked up from his drink and said: “Hello?”

The girl’s face lit up in relief.

“Hi.”

“Ah, forgive me, my English is not so good. It has been some time since I studied it.” He emphasized the ‘some’. He also seemed to have some sort of strange semi-european accent. “I am Krel. You?”

“Tara. I’m T-Tara.” She nodded. At last, she could speak to him!

“Ah. So, Tara. What your story huh?” He asked.

“Um…th-this is gonna sound s-strange, but I was just s-studying in my dorm room and then there w-was like this, um, really horrible pain, and I was just there. I-in the alley, I mean.”

“Forgive me, but please, slowly? I cannot ah…” - he racked his brains for the phrase – “keep up, with your speaking.”

“Oh, s-sorry.” She bit her lip. Her stutter wasn’t going to help this at all. She explained again her situation, slowly and carefully to make sure he understood.

Krel gave her a strange look, then crossed to a shelf where various crystals stood. He picked one up, and brought it to her.

“Your hand, please.”

Tara held out her hand and he placed the crystal in it. Instantly it glowed a dull pink.

“Ah…you are psyker.” He confirmed. “You know this?” He asked as he returned the crystal to it’s place.

“Psyker?” Tara asked, her brow knotting in confusion.

“Psyker…mind-power? The Will?” he clarified

“Oh…y-you mean like magic?”

“Magic…yes, yes, magic!” he enthused as the meaning of the word came to him. “Now, why you speak English? And not gothic tongue?”

“Um…c-coz’ I’m from America?” Tara tried.

“America?” Krel asked blankly.

“Yeah, um, b-big country, also a continent, really…” Tara explained slowly.

“On which planet?”

“Earth…” Tara replied with a disbelieving look.

“Earth?!? Holy Terra?!?” Krel’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “You are a *long* way from home!” He exclaimed. “This America, it is where you were before…before here?”

“Yeah…” Tara replied, now thoroughly scared. “Where am I?”

“This is Lerethos, capital city of Araganon V – you are not knowing this?” Another look of disbelief crossed Krel’s face.

“Araganon Five? Where…” Tara shook her head. She liked to think she knew her geography, and she’d never heard of a country with a number, let alone one called Araganon.

Krel stood up again and paced around the floor for a minute, his arms crossed. “You…what date you leave Terra?” He asked with a sideways glance, his fingers now playing with the short beard he sported.

“W-what date I…huh?”

“You leave Terra and come here, what date you leave there?” He tried again.

“What date did I l-leave Earth? I didn’t…i-is this a joke?”

“No joke, what date you leave Terra?” Krel shook his head.

“Um, N-November 24th, 1999…” she replied cautiously.

“Uh…” Krel closed his eyes in thought, searching for a word. “Millenium, which?”

“Millenium? Um, the second?”

Krel’s face dropped like a stone. “Second…no. No. Millenium, one thousand years, yes? So, forty, forty-one?” He tried again.

“No, s-second.” Tara reassured him.

Krel let out something that could only have been a curse in his native tongue. His mouth stayed open in shock.

“You…second?” He asked again.

“Yes, second.” Tara felt like a stuck record.

Krel whistled and sat on the bed with a thump. “You have…you have dimension-skip. Biiiiiig dimension skip.” He added for effect with a raised eyebrow. “You skip thirty-nine millennia, and huge distance. Terra is months of travel by immaterium from here. Months. This is…” - he shook his head – “uh…un…un…unpre-ceden-ted.” He spoke the word carefully.

By this time Tara’s head was spinning. Thirty-nine millennia and a distance that was almost beyond comprehension? Surely this was a joke? “Krel, no. This c-can’t be, i-it’s impossible.”

He jumped up and pulled her with him through the second door she had noticed when she had walked in. Outside, he pulled her up a spiral staircase and onto what must have been the roof of the residence. He pointed at the sky.

“Is that sky you remember from Terra?”

Tara looked up and sucked in a breath. An amazing sight met her. A large orange disc glowed on the horizon, and the stars seemed somehow closer than the sky she was used to seeing. As she turned, two moons, both of differing sizes were visible. One was visibly moving slowly across the sky, and the other seemed stationary. Then it hit her. No way was this Earth. This could not possibly be a trick or illusion. This was almost certainly another planet. The Big Pineapple was nowhere to be seen.

“You see, this is Araganon V. Look, defence batteries.” He pointed at a large square arrangement of lights in the sky, then moved his arm to point to another identical one.

The realisation hit her then. She was in a strange, hostile place with no hope of getting back. Never again would she see her parents or her fellow UC Sunnydale students; the days of her – now seemingly easy – life were over. She was now stuck here, in a place that no-one should ever want to be, with an old man with very little to his name.

Tears came rapidly, and she fell to her knees.

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne

Well that's got to be a hell of a shock to the system - one moment in good old UCS, the next in the 41st millennium. Heck, it's bad enough if you're born there and used to it. I suppose it could have been worse - she could have wound up in the Underhive, or the Eye of Terror, or... say what you like about the average Imperial semi-urban world, there's no shortage of places worse than it.

I'm curious, Tara guessed that 'psyker' meant 'magic' - was that from context, or did she know about magic (as fact, rather than fairy tale) already? She did seem to have quite an effect on the 'stealer that approached her, but it seemed involuntary on her part.

I'm also curious, on a more speculative note, what has become of the land of 'America'. We know the Imperial Palace is on top of Lenton (and probably the rest of Britain too), and best guess from the maps is that New Zealand ended up with the Ecclesiarchal Palace, poor buggers - I wonder what they put on the former US of A?

Ork-stealer, huh? That's a new one - orkoid genetics in biovores (hee - I like biovores, they're cute in an awful kind of way), of course, but I don't recall ever seeing a story with a, well, customised 'stealer, I suppose you'd call it. As Willow says, it'd certainly be nasty to fight, and I wouldn't underestimate the Ork ability to think on its feet, either - they may act dumb a lot, usually when they've got spare time and fungus beer in equal measure, but in a kill-or-be-killed situation, Orks don't mess about, and they're pretty good at being on the 'kill' side of the equation.

_________________
Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

I guess you'll have to wait and see for a lot of your questions there

But I'll answer one question; Tara guessed Krel meant 'magic' when he used the word 'psyker' coz he suggested the words 'mind power' - what else could he mean?

Did that make sense? The whole thing's unbeta'd, so there were probably plenty of mistakes in it

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne

I am likeing this already yes more please

G'day, your Lordship.

Cripes, a guy blinks, and three chapters pop up as if from nowhere. Sweet!

Since I haven't read the Eisenhorn novels, I'm wondering if any of his retainers are your creations? They're an interesting collection, but then again, inquisitors don't tend to attract dull flunkies.

An Ork genestealer hybrid huh? That can't be good. Though I do have to wonder where they got the Orks genetic material. Maybe that planet has a population of feral Orks from some earlier invasion?

But the cynic in me is thinking that having the beastie, even dead, in their ship isn't a great idea. I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm suspecting something's going to go wrong.

Tara's arrival in the 40K universe was certainly dramatic, and that was a close call she had with the Genestealer. I wonder what scared it off? Some sort of subtle pyschic thing, perhaps? I do have to admit though, I didn't even twig that that was how Tara was going to be introduced, even though this is labeled as a crossover. I should have expected it.

I liked the touch that Tara couldn't understand Imperial Gothic. There's no reason she should, not with 39 millenia's worth of linguistic evolution. She's just lucky that Krel has some education.

Speaking of Krel, I have to wonder, is he a former Space Marine? What with the hight, physique and the pip in his head sounds like one of the ten year service studs some chapters use. Thing is, Space Marines don't retire, so if he is, he must be a renegade of some description. His reaction to Tara's psyker status is telling too. Most people in the 40K universe don't exactly trust psykers.

Hmm, I also have to wonder, is it the Sunnydale we know that Tara came from? She does mention never seeing her parents again, which suggests not, but she knows about magic, so .... I'm stumped.

But great chapters, mate. Looking forward to the next update, whenever that might be.

Cheers,
Paul.

_________________
That’s right: In order to make this event LESS popular, the female activists take off their tops and jog in front of onlookers. - Scott Adams, regarding the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona.

Yep, Sunnydale is as we know it. The family reference was just there because I think that's one of the first things everyone thinks about when the question of being stuck somewhere for eternity comes up.

And all of Eisnehorn's retinue (except Willow obviously) are straight out of the book, which, I must point out is an absolutely AWESOME read. If you're into 40k, spend the money and read it. For about 10 years a Dean Koontz novel (Dark Rivers Of The Heart) had been my absolute fave of all time, then I read Eisenhorn and it went straight to my no. 1 spot. Dan Abnett is God, officially. It's a bit of a monstrous book to get your teeth into - it's about 2 inches thick - but well worth it because it's effectively three books in one that are almost like a biography of the Inquisitor.

I'll leave you to speculate about who/what Krel is. He's going to be a hell of an interesting character (he's my creation).

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne

G'day, Lord J.

So, Tara's from the Sunnydale we all know so well, huh? I'm guessing pre-Hush then, since she didn't think of a certain slender redhead.

I didn't know that Dan Abnett wrote the Eisenhorn novels. I love his Gaunt's Ghosts stuff, so I'll have to see if I can find them.

Cheers,
Paul.

ETA: I'm wondering if Krel might be one of the Fallen Angels (if that's the right term for the renegade Dark Angels)

_________________
That’s right: In order to make this event LESS popular, the female activists take off their tops and jog in front of onlookers. - Scott Adams, regarding the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona.

Wow, this is an ambitious idea. I've tried explaining the 40K universe to people before and generally ended up confusing them. Its very interesting, I'll certainly be sticking with it.

I know 40K well, but I've not read Eisenhorn. Is having read that going to be important later on? Also, does Alizabeth Bequin have the Pariah gene? If so, wouldn't that mean Willow, Tara and Eisenhorn would be unable, or at least unwilling to go anywhere near her?

Ah, an ork-genestealer hybrid I remember them from the ancient days of the first edition, its nice to see them again.

I'm assuming in this Willow is native to the 40K universe? I'm looking forward to learning about her alternate past.

I like the language difficulties between Tara and Krel, thats a very good detail, one a lot of authors would have not bothered with. I particularly liked their argument over the date

Looking forward to the next part.

Well I don't know too much about W4K but this is a certainly an interesting story.

Being transported 39,000 years into the future must have been a shock to her. Hopefully once she meets up with a certain redhead things won't seem so bad

I have one question. Genestealers are the creatures from the space hulk games, right?

_________________
02/28/2007

Hope the Lord J doesn't mind me answering questions...

Yes genestealers are the creatures from space hulk, however their background has been expanded in the main 40K universe, and they are part of the tyranid hive mind.

Oops, double post...

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne

Right.

Yep, genestealers were in Space Hulk game, which was a spin-off from the main Warhammer 40K game, as was Space Crusade (think it was called that). Space Hulk was also subsquently made into a computer game some years ago. Genestealers are part of an alien race known as Tyranids. Think of the aliens from the film 'Alien' and it's sequels and you're getting close to what tyranids are generally like - fast, evil, intelligent, almost entirely biological in everything they do (even their ships and weapons), and also hell bent on consuming everything in their path. When tyranids invade a planet, they consume everything on it, leaving behind a scoured bare rock. They also look somewhat like the Aliens from the films in my opinion. There's a certain H.R. Geiger-ness about them. They also have a sort of collective consciousness known as the Hive Mind, which is a sort of controlling intelligence that spans light years to communicate between the tyranid organisms that act together as one, rather than for example humans acting as a thousand separate humans trying to communicate with each other.

At least that's how I understand it, correct me if I'm wrong. My 'nid knowledge ain't what it used to be.

ANYWAY, for those who are unfamiliar with the 40K setting, here's a bit of prose that describes it well, and can be found in most books dealing with the 40K universe:

"For more than a hundred centuries, the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and the master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with the power of the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls die every day, for whom blood is drunk and flesh eaten. Human blood and human flesh - the stuff of which the Imperium is made.

To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. This is the tale of those times. It is a universe you can live in today - if you dare - for this is a dark and terrible era where you will find little comfort or hope"

and a bit more:

"n the nightmare future of the 41st millennium, Mankind teeters upon the brink of extinction. The galaxy-spanning Imperium of Man is beset on all sides by ravening aliens, and it is threatened from within by malevolent creatures and heretical rebels. Only the strength of the Immortal Emperor of Terra stands between Humanity and its annihilation. Dedicated to His service are the countless warriors, agents, and myriad servants of the Imperium. Foremost among them stand the Space Marines, mentally and physically engineered to be the supreme fighting force, the ultimate protectors of Mankind.

The Emperor's cause is just indeed – malevolent aliens and the twisted worshippers of the Ruinous Powers lurk at every turn to corrupt and enslave Mankind. Enemies are both without and within. Nowhere is this more so than in the farthest reaches of the Imperium."

And reccomended background reading if you have some time spare:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imperium_of_Man

And now for some pics to help you non-40kers

Genestealers:




The man himself (Eisenhorn):



Chronic: I'm hoping to be able to write this fic and have it readable by all, reardless of how much you know or don't know about the 40K universe. However, I feel that those who know a bit about it will get a better experience because they will have an easier time visualising what I'm banging on about

Uh, I wasn't aware that there ever HAD been ork-stealer hybrids in the game! Damnit, just when I though I had an original idea. Looks like I might have to come up with something new

And yes, Bequin has the Pariah gene. But it's not like it's unbearable for Psykers to be close to her, just somewhat repellant. At least that's how the Eisenhorn novel portrays it, and I'm using that as my base here. Bequin isn't evil by any stretch of the imagination, according to the novel she was pretty much unaware of her 'affliction' until Eisenhorn pointed it out to her and explained it.

As for Willow being native to the 41st millenium...you'll just have to wait and see

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne

UPDATE!

I'm re-reading Eisenhorn at the mo, so inspiration seems to never be far away So here's the next installment. Enjoy

PART 5

She didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence of the sky Krel had shown her made it impossible not to. Everything was too real to be a dream – although she still held out some hope she would awake slumped on her homework – especially the encounter with the monster bare seconds after she had been mysteriously transported into this nightmare world.

Monsters she was aware of; it was difficult to live in Sunnydale and not encounter at least one or two in your lifetime; however, most of those appeared in some way humanoid. The beast she had encountered in this world looked like something out of a sci-fi horror movie – but worse. It was a horrifying creature.

That past, at least she seemed to be somewhere safe and warm now with someone who looked like he cared about her problem.

Krel was an enigma. This huge, now scrawny man with the strange demeanour and obviously high intellect. Who was he? Why was he helping her? What did he have to gain from all this? Tara’s mind felt a little guilty for thinking that, but having been passed by by so many people back in that alley, why had Krel stopped? Why had he – without understanding a word she had said – offered her shelter and coffee? Why was he now researching her situation in a mass of both very ancient-looking books and more modern-looking data slates?

Krel stopped his reading, rubbed his eyes, and looked at Tara, noticing that she was staring at him.

“What?”

Tara quickly averted her eyes. “I…I w-was just wondering, um…why? Why are you helping me?”

Krel’s face broke into a grin. “My life, it is spent helping people. Always. Since I was…since I became Space Marine.” His face distorted into a sort of grimace at the memory. He paused. “But it is long story. Maybe one day I tell you.” He seemed reluctant to say any more.

“You could tell me now.” Tara pushed.

He sighed, and close the massive tome he was working through.

“It is long time since I…wait. You will not know what I talk of. You know not Space Marine, huh?”

“Um…no…what’s a space marine? I mean, duh, obviously a marine in space, but…”

“Space Marine is The Emperor’s finest warrior. Space Marine is frontline troop, elite force, genetically engineered to be better, faster, smarter, stronger, more powerful than normal human.”

“Y-you used to be one? B-but you retired?” Tara guessed.

“I…I was Space Marine. But not retired. Escaped.” He clarified. “The chapter I joined, at first seemed the real thing, yes? Big, powerful warriors from the heavens, massive suits of power armour, huge guns, highly trained, almost invincible, and religiously perfect in worship of The Emperor. But, there was problem. Is problem. Chapter is tainted. Chaos works from within; nobody sees or admits it, but the Ruinous Powers are at work deep within foundations. They say they worship The Emperor, but there are signs inside, I know, that most work for Chaos. They brainwash new recruits just after initiation, but I escape before that.”

“So…you army kinda turned evil?” Tara guessed.

“Yes. Chaos, the filth and scum the Imperium fights against. It is like a rot. It starts with a small core and spreads, unseen, until at last minute you realise – you are corrupted, one of the damned, permanently removed from the Emperor’s light. This, I have seen. My own battle brothers, tainted. At first, yes, loyal, but then this insidious force turns them against the Emperor. Those who do not agree with Chapter teachings, they burn, they torture, they kill. When Inquisition demands explanation, they claim the dead were heretics! Can you believe? They claim that true brothers are heretics! It is the OPPOSITE!” Krel’s fist pounded down on the table. He seemed to regain his composure. “Excuse me. I…I feel strongly about this. The Executioners chapter, it was my life, my calling, my destiny…until I saw the rot. I tried to fight it for some time, but no. It was too strong, too…ah…ah…engrained in the chapter’s history, yes? Since the Badab uprising, I think. That is where it began. And so, since I escape, I try to bring justice, to bring down the chapter…but I cannot do it. There remain good marines in the Executioners chapter. I cannot condemn them to the full destructive force of the Inquisition. So I search for other ways to bring out the heretics without causing my loyal brothers pain. It is difficult.” He sighed.

Tara was somewhat taken aback. The man – if he could still be called that – was obviously a torn soul. There was a deep rooted loyalty there, but also a burning hatred of what his chapter had become. Tara guessed that the loyalty thing was something genetic.

“W-when you said genetically engineered…you mean all Space Marines? Including yourself, I mean?”

“Yes. I am no longer ‘human’ as you understand it. I have extra organs, extra bones, extra implants…lots of things normal human does not have. I have much augmented strength and size, as you can see. But my mind is still human. I resisted a lot of the hypnotherapy and psycho-chemical treatment. I am not blindly loyal to the chapter – the Emperor always comes above that. Always. It is the only way.”

That explains a lot.

“S-so what, y-you’re on the run? A fugitive?”

“Fugitive? Ah, you mean I am being pursued, yes? Then I would agree. Perhaps. Perhaps the chapter think I am dead. Perhaps they do not. Certainly they used to pursue me, with kill squads. Even an Inquisitor, they sent after me, with a Deathwatch retinue. They fear me, Tara. They understand that I know the truth, the truth of the foul chaos rot which impregnates the once noble chapter. They know that I, the one in a thousand marines who knew, escaped. They know that I evaded them for years. But I ah…what is word…I ‘faked’ my death, yes? I tried to make them believe I am dead. But whether it worked, I do not know. Certainly, I have seen no kill teams for months, and no sign of the Inquisitor either. But perhaps there are more pressing matters for their attention. I have seen recently a selection of unholy creatures on this planet; I am hoping the Inquisitor is busy with them, and not me.”

Tara considered this. Was she to take Krel’s word at all of this? It seemed a far-fetched story…but if indeed she was now thirty-nine millennia into the future…nothing seemed far fetched anymore. But she knew that there were two sides to every story. Perhaps Krel was the ‘heretic’ here. Perhaps the Executioner space marines were after him because he was actually evil…but she doubted it. He seemed genuine enough and there seemed to be no sign of evil in him.

She studied his aura. It was strange, granted, but more than likely that was because of the changes his body and mind were put through during his initiation as a space marine. But there was no trace of dishonesty there, no trace of evil. In fact, his aura was purer than most humans she had ever seen. So more than likely he was telling the truth, which made his story all the more saddening. A thousand, he had said, of the Emperor’s finest warriors succumbing to the effects of Chaos, and the administration not even being aware of it. Quite what he meant by the ‘effects of Chaos’ was lost on her in this context. Obviously Chaos was evil to some extent by it’s nature, but she wondered if there was more to it than that. She questioned him to that effect. His reply was not quite what she was expecting.

“Tara, Chaos – it is not just theory anymore. It is foul…religion, almost. There are four abominable Chaos gods; they seek to infect and ruin mankind from within. There is entire realm of Chaos – the Immaterium. Chaos is evil, through and through. It is powerful, strong force that exists as a manifestation of base human – and some say alien – thoughts, fears, and emotions. Chaos gods are manifestation of that. It is not just mathematical theory, as was thought in your time. It is most evil, abhorrent thing we face today.”

With that, Krel went back to his book, feeling that today’s ‘Welcome To The Forty-First Millenium’ lessons were over.

Tara looked around uneasily. What now? At least she and Krel now knew who each other were, but what the hell was she supposed to do now?

She flopped backwards onto Krel’s bed and curled up in a ball.

---

“Willow.” Alizabeth Bequin closed the cargo bay door behind her.

“Hey.” Willow replied distractedly.

“What are you looking at?” She wandered closer to where Willow stood eyeing the Orkstealer’s corpse.

“I dunno, there’s something…something’s not right. I mean, duh, it’s an Ork-Genestealer hybrid, but…there’s something else.

Bequin peered over her shoulder. “Uh-huh.”

Willow moved away from her a little.

“Sorry.” Bequin smiled apologetically. She was still getting used to her status as an untouchable; both Eisenhorn and Willow didn’t like getting close to her – there was a natural repulsion between her and them. It was merely a subconscious reaction that made them feel uneasy – there was no personal dislike there.

“No, it’s fine, really, I was just trying to see if I could see anything Uber missed." Uber Aemos had spent a great deal of time with the corpse, trying to understand it’s physiology and how it had come to be; however, Aemos was no psyker and couldn’t always see things that were not obvious to the eye. “Um, could you give me a bit of space, you’re too close. Please?” Willow asked.

“Sure.” Alizabeth backed off to the far wall. Her area of influence was expanding by the day; now she had realised her ‘gift’, she was starting to get a vague idea of what she could do with it, and as a result it had started to expand – without her wanting it to.

“Thanks.” Willow peered at the corpse again and opened her mind to see if there was anything else. Something caught her eye. She moved around a little. There. Obscured by the decaying alien aura, there was a small oily black hole in the middle of it’s dead mind. She probed it gently with her senses. “I can see this little th-“ She was thrown backwards hard against the wall behind her by a shockwave of energy, smacking her head on the plasteel of the cargo bay wall. She fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

“Willow!” Alizabeth ran across the room and picked her up off the floor. “Willow!” She shook the unconscious girl to try and wake her up. “Gregor! Uber!” She shouted at the vox comms plate on the wall. Seconds later the Inquisitor burst in through the door with the old savant hot on his heels.

“Rosenberg…Bequin what happened?” Eisenhorn was straight down to business.

“I don’t know, she was just looking at the corpse and then this shockwave threw her against the wall.” Bequin explained as best she could. Thankfully Willow had started to come around.

“Ow.” She screwed her eyes up and put her hand to the back of her head. It came away bloody. “Ow a lot.”

“Are you alright? Eisenhorn asked as she righted herself and stood up.

“Yeah, just…ow.” She looked up to the carcass and shivered. “Gregor, there’s more to this than meets the eye. Chaos is involved.”

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne

G'day, Lord J.

Ahh ... so I was at least a little right about Krel, what with him being a Space Marine and all. I'm glad that Tara is maintaining a little bit of paranoia though. Maybe it's just me, but I don't quite trust Krel. He may well be exactly what he says he is, but in the world of the 41st millennium things are rarely as simple as them seem at first glance.



I love that, not that Willow's bleeding from the noggin, but rather her response. It cracked me up.

But Chaos and the 'Nids combined? A whole big world of badness there, methinks.

Cheers,
Paul.


ETA: Since no-one has: Dibs!

_________________
That’s right: In order to make this event LESS popular, the female activists take off their tops and jog in front of onlookers. - Scott Adams, regarding the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona.

Bugs, greenskins, and chaos too? That's a whole universe of trouble right there... all they need is to graft in a Dark Eldar sadism gland and a Necron annoying-as-all-hell-unkillable implant and they'd have the Emperor's worst nightmare.

Krel is an interesting figure. He's clearly seen enough to reassess the hard-line stance most everyone of power in 40k has, which is just as well, because Tara could've been in serious trouble otherwise, being ignorant of all the ways of the Imperium. Most people would take a pretty dim view of not knowing about the Emperor - it's lucky Tara found someone who'd give her an answer rather than toss her in a cell for just asking.

Then again, he's potentially quite dangerous to be around, especially with an Inquisitor on the loose nearby - as a renegade from a potentially corrupt chapter, he's not the kind of person the authorities would look kindly upon. I imagine sooner or later he and Tara are going to run into Eisenhorn and his retinue, and we'll see where the chips land

_________________
Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

I don't think everyone in the 40k universe is THAT hardline - there are countless worlds out there ignorant of the Emperor that are regularly visited by Imperials. More likely everyone would just assume that someone who didn't know about the Emperor would either a) have some sort of memory loss, b) be from some far flung planet right on the edges of the Imperium or c) be completely insane.

If Tara was to speak out against the Imperium in some way, then yeah, she'd probably be locked in a cell and/or killed for heresy straight away.

I have some more of this fic on the way, stay tuned

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne

A brief update; hopefully more to come this evening.

PART 6:

Silence descended on the cargo bay. Even though there had been little to no ambient noise anyway, the place seemed to get even quieter. The thought that not only was this a strange xenos hybrid, but that the ruinous powers were involved was a sobering one indeed. Three of mankind’s most hated enemies combined into one foe? It sounded like a nightmare scenario that only the most vicious of minds could bring to life.

Eisenhorn looked around at the horrific creature’s dead body. Now that he had a bit of time to think about it, he could sense the presence of chaos here too. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable unless your attention was drawn to it, but there was something there, and it seemed more…pure? Was that the right word? Could such evil as the taint of chaos be called pure? It seemed more…concentrated than normal. Subtle but concentrated. He turned back to look at Willow.

“There’s a warp seed in there, Gregor, but i-it’s dormant. It’s just a seed, it hasn’t taken root or expanded yet,” Willow explained.

Warp seeds were something that Willow prided herself on having discovered during her time with Eisenhorn. Probing the mind of anyone or anything that even dabbled with the Warp was always a dangerous undertaking, and usually only done long after the warp’s influence had already infected the subject’s system thoroughly. By this time, the seed no longer existed - it had become part of the subject’s consciousness.

Willow had discovered – quite by chance – that sometimes a seed of pure chaos could be deliberately planted into any creature’s mind. It was a simple theory that had evaded the Imperium’s finest until Eisenhorn's party had chanced upon a cult ritual on Thracian Primaris some years before. At first it had been hard to figure out what they were doing - even Aemos was at a loss, but Willow's brainpower had come through in the end. It explained a lot; not only how chaos seemed to spread like a virus, but also how the apparently incorruptible could turn to the dark powers overnight; the prime example of this being Brother Arkio of the Blood Angels space marine chapter; a traitor inquisitor had – unbeknownst to the marine and his chapter - implanted a seed of chaos deep in the marine’s mind, which eventually led to a massive religious civil war inside the chapter itself.

But this was a little different.

“Dormant? Most perturbatory…” Aemos’ catchphrase made an appearance.

“Yeah, it’s like…totally contained. I mean it’s not just in the early stages – we’ve seen that before, it’s actually completely kinda barred-in by something. Like whoever put it there didn’t want it to manifest.”

Eisenhorn, peering into the remnants of the beast’s dead mind could just see the vague outline of the seed, but the mind was decaying fast, and there was very little left to see. In the next hour or so it would vanish completely.

“Is there anything else you can tell me?” Eisenhorn asked her.

“It’s…there’s some sort of psychic booby trap in there. Hence the ouch.” Willow pulled herself up with the help of Aemos. “I think I pulled out just in time – I sensed something was wrong and got out of there as fast as I could, but I guess I still caught the backwash. I think if I’d stayed there a second longer I’d probably be dead.”

Eisenhorn toyed with the idea of doing a full mind-dissection, but to rush it so would most likely result in somebody's death if the booby trap was as powerful as it seemed. No, the corpse was as good as useless to them now for anything other than physiological study.

“So…we have the dead carcass of a crossbreed of two of mankind’s most vicious alien enemies that has a booby trapped dormant seed of chaos in it’s mind.”

“Another day at the goddamned office, then.” Betancore now stood in the doorway, disgust evident on his face.

“We need to research this. We need to know three things: how this was done, who did it, and why it was done. Make that four - we also need to know if the responsible party has the capability to create more of these.”

“I would have thought the *why* was pretty obvious.” Betancore observed from the door.

“Not necessarily, I mean, why booby trap it? It’s not like anyone’s gonna get the chance to remove it, right? It’d probably kill you before you before you got close enough.” Willow pointed out.

“Indeed. But what worries me the most is who we’re dealing with here. None of the three groups involved here would ever work together. No-one’s ever been able to initiate any sort of co-operative dialogue with the Tyranids, the Orks are frankly too damned stupid to come up with something like this, and as for the forces of chaos...” - Eisenhorn paused – “They could well be twisted enough to come up with something like this. But the question is: who exactly out of the uncountable masses of heretics in the sector are we dealing with?”

“What makes you think they’re from this sector? They could be from further afield,” Betancore noted.

Aemos adjusted his glasses a little. “This beast is most probably a newborn – little more than a few days old, I would guess from the state of it’s anatomy. I would put large sums of money on a bet that this creature was created on this planet. If I were a gambling man, that is. The shortness of the limbs, the relative bluntness of the claws all indicate a short lifespan so far, which is more than likely due to-“

“Enough, Aemos. If it’s been created on-planet, I want to know who and where it came from as soon as possible. Midas, get Fischig; you two and Rosenberg are going back to where we found this damnable creature and scout around the neighbourhood. Anything looking like chaotic cult activity, I want to know about it. Bequin, you, Aemos and I are going to pay a visit to the local Arbites to see if they've had any reports of anything similar in the area; but we’ll be going undercover. No symbols of office displayed, please. I don’t want an army of Arbites destroying our only link to whoever created this abomination. As adept as they are at their job, I get the feeling the locals are a little heavy-handed. Let’s go.” He turned to Willow. “Are you up to this?”

“I’m fine, just a slight knock to the head. Had plenty of those,” Willow reassured him.

Eisenhorn would have smiled if his face permitted it. “Good. Look after Fischig, I think one of the hyrids got a good swipe at him earlier, but he’s trying to hide it. I’ll see you back here later.” With that he checked the clip in his autopistol, reholstered it, and followed Bequin and Aemos out of the cargo bay door and into the inky black night of Araganon V.

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne

G'day, Lord J.

Brief update or no, I reckon it's worth some feedback. That's some nice background on the nature of these 'seeds of chaos' and I have to wonder if there is any correlation between this Brother Arkio of the Blood Angels and Krel of the Executioners.

are the successors maybe one of the Blood Angels' successor chapters maybe?

And Willow's on her way back out to where they bagged their hybrid 'stealer, huh? Perhaps to run into a certain scared, lost blonde? I wonder.

Keep it up, mate.

Cheers,
Paul.

_________________
That’s right: In order to make this event LESS popular, the female activists take off their tops and jog in front of onlookers. - Scott Adams, regarding the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona.

Lord J
I don't know much about Warhammer, apart from the little I picked up when my son played it. Your story is intriguing me tho'. I like W&T stories in AU settings, and you can't get much more alternate than your setting.

What a strange world for Tara to come to grips with, and what a huge loss for her to deal with: torn away from her life, family and friends to this fearsome place. Willow seems to be one of the 'good guys', but with this corruption that Krel (another 'good guy' I think) talks about, she could be in danger.

I await your updates with great anticipation.
Anne

_________________
Spells for Two

Every path has its puddle. Old English Saying... I think I just stepped in mine...

Good chapter - I like when stories take a break from the action, and the characters consider what they've got on their hands and draw conclusions. Of course, in this case it doesn't so much solve mysteries as make new ones but it's nice to see Eisenhorn and his retinue behaving as they should, investigating and working things out. This warp seed business is interesting, is it something from the novels or is it your own creation?

In any case, it looks like a meeting (or at least further psychic contact) between Tara and Willow is now coming up, seeing as they're returning to the scene of the 'stealer rampage, which is roughly where Tara is. I'm looking forward to that.

_________________
Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

Thanks for the feedback people

The Executioners chapter are nothing to do with the Blood Angels (as far as I know, anyway). As for the Krel/Arkio thing...you'll have to wait and see

The whole warp seed thing was based on an idea briefly touched on in the Deus Encarmine and Deus Sanguinius novels, but I'm gonna flesh it out more here and make it more of a central point than it was in those novels, which were more centred on the effects of a Space Marine being unknowingly corrupted by a warp seed (there's a lot more to it than that, obviously; again, they're a damned good read).

While we're on the subject of corruption...yep, nothing and noone in the 40k universe is above corruption. The whole Eisenhorn novel is based upon that premise - it charts his fall from being pretty damned puritannical to teetering on the brink of heresy.

That given, either one - or both - of our girls may end up dire circumstances here You'll just have to keep reading...

_________________
"Bugger, I thought you'd gone!" - Ethan Rayne