When he awoke the world was dark but noisy. The whiring of gears, the deep slow humm of a crsystal stack, deep slow breaths from a rebreather, it was only after moments of consousness that he released that these new sounds were of him. He focused on this and the deep humming grew louder as his logis implant attempted to make sense of this all.
As he thinks he becomes aware of chanting around him, half a dozen rust robed tech preists surrouind him chanting and praying to the machine spirits he now shares himself with, that give him strength and power the likes of which no meer human could possibly comprehend. It gave him deep peace, But he would instantly recognize he was different from his brothers.
He stands, easily reaching 6’6 and his deep blue eyes sweeping over the old hunches preists around him, he had none of their failings, he was sleek and seemingly fit. He could feel the hum of power deep inside of himself, could account for implants just as the others had but his were better, ancient and magnificent, this gave him pride, but he was startled to find he had pride, and could be startled!
The elder preist among those surrounding him would take a step forward. “Welcome to life brother.” He says, red llight cast from furnases surrounding them dances along his venerable face, his skin blackened from soot and his rust colored robes old and tattered. His voice speaks with the weariness of ages past, the acceptance of duty and etenity. “You have been forged special among us. With ancient parts and spirits of the Adeptus Mechanicus past we have forged you. You will learn a great deal about the Archeotech so that you may briung it home to us here on Holy Mars.” He says in his wisend old voice. With that the others around him begin their rites anew, praying and prasing the machine spirits and their new brother. He joined them thanking the spirits for accepting and joining with him to find their lost and wayward kin.
Ity was decades before he was asigned to his first ship, the years melted past and seemed to fly as he was tought all he would need to know for his first asignment. From the replacment of enegine components to the secrets of creating servators and brother Tech Priests themselves. He learned quickly and had come to embrace that which made him different, while his brothers were cold and calculated he was, atleast attempted to be, warm and open. Betraying none of their secrets yet making humans (read: meer mortals.) seem comfortable and at ease around himself. His pride in himself had grown as well, there was pride to be found in all of his creatiuon, a certine beauty that was lost on his brothers but not himself.
His first asignment was a glorious one indeed, it took him to the Emperors Fist, a mighty battleship in the Callix Sector, there he made one of the most important discoverys of his new life. While digging through an old cargo bay on the battleship searching for new engine components to rebuild the left wengine of a thunderhawk he came across several tightly sealed containers, curious of their contents and seeing no heretical marks he quickly pried them open and was amazed at his discovery.
Inside these crates were ingots of titanium and bars of ivory, he would reach up toucxhing his faceplate, tracing the intricate carvings that had been etched into the titanium with inlaid ivory, this was a gift of the Omnissiah he was sure of it. He quickly went to work with the new materials, much of it was wasted in his attempts to craft it, but in the glowing entrails of the mighty battleship he had forged not just weapons and mechadendrites, but works of art.
He would hold up his final creation, a beautiful lasgun with chants and symbols praising the omnissiah along its length, he turns the still hot weapon over in his hands, his fingers blisting from the heat but he did not care, this would be his, it would be his exlimation to the ages that he had existed, It was the proof that he was alive.
Life among the battleship had done him well, it allowed him both the opertunity to expand his fledgling personality and to learn more about the ways of more ordinary humans, not that he had much opertunity to learn about them as most of his centuries of service was reparing and maintaining the ancient Archeotech of the Emperors fist as well as dismanteling and destroying xeno tech, releasing the tortured spirits of the twisted machinary once and for all when he could.
Soon, anotehr black crusade had started, the feeling aboard the ship was tense yet energized with excitement, the chance to kill soo many heretics not lost on the crew. Even the fortress enginerring section seemed to have a more huistled pace about it, the servators carrying ammo from the weapon vaults seeed to have a spring to their step, though it could have been his imagination, how quaint.
The emperors fist survived battle after battle, skirmish after skirmish against the chaos forces, though it was almost torn assunder in its last battle, after which it was forced to limp its way back to Holy Terra and the martine shipyhards for retooling.
Omegas time was not wasted however, for the Emperors fist’s undering had brought him home in time for one of the most important assignments of his life. He stood on the command deck of a thunderhawk carrying him toward his nree Asignment, his eyes sweeping over the Archeotech ship, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, he read the name aloud as the thunderhawks lights sweep over it. “This Dilligence. Impressive.” He says simply. After the Thunderhawk docks he steps back and to the passenger compartment where other, less excitrable tech preists waited, they were already chanting when they boarded, only Omega stood on the ramp still, looking to the deck of the ancient ship, he pulls in a breath and takes the final step, steping from his old reutine life into the one he was forged for those centrys past.
Mon Nov 16, 2009 8:50 pm
