The Shilwulf Dynasty
Ace pilot of small craft for the Shilwulf Dynasty
“So wutz diz den ’ummie?” The green skin held up a old food processing unit.
“Oh yeah… that’s uh… blade sharpener! Yes a blade sharpener and it makes your blades shinier too! And we all know how good shiny blades are! Am I right?”
“Har! True enuf ’ummie! Dem flashy bits be dern killy for sure!”
“Yes, absolutely. Just put the blades in there push that button and let it do its magic.”
“Ah’roit, ah’roit yuz made ya pitch. Whatcha want for it?”
Uric started rummaging through the Ork’s pile of salvage. Finding a metal ammo box with an Aquila marking on the smuggler popped it open to see if filled with lasgun power cells.
The Ork peered at Uric through squinting eyes. “I see uve taken a fancy to dem little wutzitz dere. What are does tings? We found’em muckin’ up the innerts of all deh ‘ummie gunz we’ve collected. Didn’t know wut dey wuz for so we just chucked’em out. Iz dey killy?”
Uric thought for a moment then responded: “No they’re not err… killy. They’re medicine packs. The guardsmen keep them in their guns so they always have a med kit handy.” Slowly a glimmer of realization began to form in the Ork’s glassy eyes. Uric began to worry wondering if the Ork had sniffed out the deception.
“Ha! You ’ummiez sure be soft!” The Ork slapped Uric on the back knocking him across the salvage heap. “But datz not yur fault, Orkz iz dey best!” Uric righted himself and began to get his wind back. Peering up at the big green skin saw with concern that the Ork seemed to be in deep thought. “Ummies be soft… ’ummies be soft…” The Ork kept mumbling this phrase over and over. It was never good when an Ork got into deep thought.
“If…” The Ork seemed to be considering his words carefully. “…’ummies be soft. Den, dey needz dem meds yeah? If dey need dem medz den, da medz be valuable!”
“Great…” Uric thought to himself. “I got a philosopher here…” Taking a moment to assess Uric decided to go with a different tact. “Can’t fool you big guy.”
The Ork puffed up in pride at his ‘kunning’. "But think of this. If humans don’t get the meds then they don’t feel like fighting. And if humans don’t feel like fighting, and if they don’t want to fight then they’re no good for stompin’. And if there’s no stompin’ then you all just be ‘muckin’ about’. " The Ork seemed suddenly alarmed.
“Oi! Can’t be ‘avin’ no stompin’ now! I’ll give you dat case and those one’s over dere…” The Ork pointed at another Ork’z pile “…for da sharpener, and da that set of sonic stabberz.” The Ork gestured at the set of steak knives that Uric had brought along. Keeping his face composed.
“You drive a cunning bargain my friend but you have deal.”
“Har! Good den. Be right back. Oi! Lad give me dem little ’ummie medz you got dere!”
Uric began preparing for departure as the two Orks begain to brawl. He wasn’t worried though, his Ork was bigger so he’d win. Ork society was simple like that.
Back on board the Slippery Slope. Uric broke free from the Ork hulk’s air lock, and began powering up the engines. Captain Ikeman came on to the bridge looking rather pleased with himself. “Well boys looks like we did well today. What’s more I’ve already got a buyer for our new payload.” Uric turned to the captain in surprise.
“That was fast Cap’n. Who’s the buyer?”
“It’s a Commissariat in the Calix sector. Looks like we’re going legit. If they like our goods maybe we can continue to work with them, and then maybe we can eventually get a Marq!” The Captain looked absolutely dreamy eyed. Uric could actually see the visions of Rogue Trader-ness wafting through Ikeman’s brain. The rest of the crew seemed to be sharing in the moment. But something felt wrong about this.
“Beggin’ the good Captain’s pardon, but why would a Commissariat be buying from us. They have access to the finest military goods available to the military just short of the Chapters themselves.”
“Ikeman looked annoyed. “How would I know? I don’t make a habit of questioning Commissars. Maybe we just happen to be in the right place at the right time. All I know is that I don’t want to disappoint a Commissar General!” Uric couldn’t argue with that.
“So where too Captain?”
“Scintilla. Dreamer get into your damned box and give Uric his coordinates!”
All eyes turned towards the ship’s navigator. ‘Dreamer’ who’s real name was Douglas was staring blankly into the air as his name would suggest. The navigator was playing with a shard of stained glass in his skeletal hand. Small drops of blood slowly were leaking from fingers. The command deck sighed in unison. Dreamer was a good navigator when he wasn’t zoned out on Flect. Unfortunately he was zoned out most of the time. But who could complain. It was tough for a free agent vessel to get a hold of a navigator who didn’t have some sort of baggage. But Flect was pretty heavy baggage. Apparently the promising young navigator had become so engrossed with the vistas of the Warp that he’d started pulling his scarf off at odd times driving crewmen mad. And eventually his former captain realized that he was purposefully keeping his vessels in the Warp longer than necessary. He was being recalled to his guild when Captain Ikeman discovered him.
The Captain had intentionally gotten Ikeman addicted to Flect. It kept him happy to keep his scarf on and more agreeable to making short journey’s to the warp. The downside was that as an addict his body was wasting away, and he was becoming more and more mentally unstable.
Ikeman marched over to dreamer and shook him. The navigator came out of his reverie with a scream. Then slowly started to adjust to the reality around him. “Yes Captain what is it your require?”
“I need you to earn your Flect you lay about. Now get in the box and tell Uric his heading.”
Suddenly life seemed to fill Dreamer’s dull eyes. “A journey? Into the Warp…” the navigator’s body seemed to writhe in anticipation of the experience. “Right away Captain.” The Navigator stumbled into his cabinet and closed the door.
After several moments Dreamer began to call out coordinates. Uric crispy repeated the heading as each point was declared. The Warp shield plates began to descend over the ship’s view ports, and claxions alerted the crew of imminent Warp travel. Uric spun up the engines for entry into the Warp. “Translation in T minus 60 …”
The Slippery Slope slid back into Void Space. Uric hit the ship Vox: “Re-entry to Void Space complete. Raising port plates!” As the main port plate began to slowly climb back into their housing a rather disturbing view awaited the crew of the Slippery Slope. The world of Scintilla seemed to be entertaining half the Calixis Sector Fleet. Proximity alarms immediately began to howl and Uric had move quickly to not ram a Dominator Class Battle Cruiser.
The ship to ship vox squawked to life. Gerald the ship’s communications officer spoke up: “I think we’re being hailed Captain…”
“I can hear you idiot respond!” Gerald sheepishly connected the Vox. “This is the I.S. Slippery Slope how may we be of assistance?”
A stern metallic voice responded immediately. “This is Captain Vitarum of the I.S Auto de Fey. You are in restricted space. Prepare to be boarded.” With that the channel went silent. The bridge was silent for several moments. Ikeman just had a blank look on his face as his brain struggled to take in what was happening. Speech returned to him as the tell tale sounds of boarding vessels attaching themselves to the hull began to ring through the ship. “Gerald alert the crew not to resist.”
Barely contained panic was evident in every member of the bridge crew. Uric’s mind raced. ’We’re here at the behest of the Commissariat we should be fine. For once we’re on the right side of Imperial law, this is probably just routine. They’ll check things out then send us on our way.’ Somehow though Uric’s smuggler’s sense didn’t feel any better for his reasoning. The Captain’s barking voice brought the pilot back to reality. “Alright lets go meet our guests.”
The inner airlock door whined open, and naval shock troops entered the gangway the elite troops lined up opposite of the bridge crew and pressed them neatly against the opposing wall. Once the bridge crew of the Slippery Slope was sufficiently contained. Two more figures entered the gangway. One was dressed in the dark blue uniform of the Imperial Navy. The man was pale with steely features. He screamed Void born. And coolness of his stare signaled a man used to being obeyed. The second figure was visually the opposite. He was dressed in the brown and red uniform of the Commissariat. He was stout and dark of skin. The Ikeman sighed in relief at the site of him.
“My lord Commissar I…” The naval Captain’s eyes narrowed to slivers revealing only the faintest gleam. One of the shock troops as if sensing his commanders displeasure rewarded Ikeman’s greeting with a lasgun rifle butt to his face. Ikeman crumpled to the ground. The naval Captain stepped forward.
“I am Captain Vitarum, and you speak only when I command it and that will be to answer my interrogations as quickly and truthfully as possible. Do you understand?” Silence filled the gangway. “You man answer.”
Each of the bridge crew stammered out affirmatives. “Good. Then this should go rather quickly. Who is captain of this vessel?” Ikeman struggled to his feet, and answered. His voice muffled from a crushed nose and blood. “I have that honor, sir.”
Vitarum sized Ikeman up. “What is your name?”
“Captain Reginald Ikeman sir.”
“Captain Ikeman what is your business on Scintilla?”
“Trade sir. We’re bringing supplies.”
“And what are these supplies?”
“Lasgun power cells, Ceramite refits, liquor. We’re…” A trooper began to raise his rifle and Ikeman fell silent.
Vitarum seemed a little surprised. “That was quiet forth coming. I don’t suppose you have a trade marq to deal in arms do you?”
Ikeman was become noticeably flustered. “Well no sir…”
“Again strangely honest. Captain Ikeman to whom were taking these supplies?”
“Well sir. To him.” Ikeman pointed at the Commissar. Who raised an eyebrow in response.
“You’re bringing military supplies to me?” The Commissar seemed bemused.
“Well perhaps not you specifically my lord, but to the Commissariat. We were requested to bring military equipment to Scintilla for use by the PDF Commissars here.”
Uric allowed himself to feel a little relief. Perhaps now this would be resolved.
The Commissar and naval Captain exchanged a look. Then the Commissar turned his attention back to Captain Ikeman. “So then you admit to bringing supplies to an illicit organization that pretends to the same position as the Imperial Commissariat?”
Ikeman looked confused. “I… I… I’m not sure I follow my lord. What?”
“Follow or not you’ve just admitted that you were bringing relief to an organization this fleet is here to put down.”
“So there’s two Commissariats?”
“No you fool that’s the point!”
“Captain Vitarum take possession of this vessel, its contents and its crew. I’ll see you on the bridge.” With that the Commissar stormed back into the airlock.
Vitarum shrugged and gestured to his troops. Who quickly responded and began pushing the crew of the Slippery Slope into the boarding ship.
Uric sat in his cell in the brig of whatever Imperial vessel he was on. The first few days he could hear the sounds of battle and fighters launching. That didn’t last long though. Then at some point the queezy vibration of translation occurred. Then he nothing else really happened to help mark the passage of time, save for the in frequent appearance of a meal by the ragged master of the brig. He wondered what had happened to the rest of the crew. Occasionally he heard coughs, whimpers, and cries of pain or outrage. He imagined these might be his shipmates. But who could really say through thick bulkheads of the Imperial vessel.
Uric awoke to the sounds of las fire. He staggered to his feet feebly. Barely able to stand. He was malnourished and weak but he still had enough alertness to know that danger was approaching. He looked around for some way to defend himself. Nothing but the privy was present. He began to pull on the steel device hoping to dislodge it from the wall plates. As he struggled the door to his cell hissed open. And bright light flooded the tiny room. Uric’s eyes slammed shut in response. Bright red was all he could see through the lids of his eyes.
“Its welded on. Unless you think you can pull the bulkhead plate off the wall. You had better stop before you damage yourself.” Uric realized how ridiculous he must look and let go. He turned towards the voice still unable to open his eyes. ‘At least I can die with some dignity.’ He tried to hold himself as straight as possible.
“Your name prisoner.”
Uric tried to speak through cracked lips but his mouth was so dry and tongue so swollen that no sound came out.
“Another dumb one shoot him.”
“Uric…” He finally found the will to force a raspy sound from his throat. “Uric Heizenfaust”.
“Belay that order. He seems to have found his voice. What is your occupation prisoner?”
“Pilot sir. Do you know of my crew?”
“Found him! The Captain was right we did have a pilot down here. Tell the Arbites to finish clearing the rest of the cells. And then have them execute the Brig Master for gross illiteracy. I can’t believe we had to go through 50 cells simply because he was unable to keep records of his prisoners. We may as well start fresh I’ll have the ship’s Purser send down one of his administrators to oversee the prison. They don’t overlook anything. Now drag this one out, clean him up, feed him and bring him a change of clothes. And don’t let him out of your site. You are to receive a great honor Uric Heizenfaust apparently the Imperium has need of you. "
“Sir do you think he can still fly? Look at him. He looks as ugly as a Squat that’s spent 10 years on a Centrifugal Rack.”
“Not our concern one of the noble Trader Dynasties has requested him. And it is not for us to question our betters. By the way what’s a Squat?”
“Well it’s kind of confusing sir. They may be ab-human or they might be something called the Demi…”
“Never mind that, just get him cleaned up.”
Uric was beginning to feel more like himself. Several showers and meals later he was feeling his strength return. He rubbed his head feeling the rough stubble there, and winced. He had always been proud of his hair but after his time in the brig it and his beard had become so long, matted, and infested with the Emperor knew what. That shaving it was the only reasonable response. Having it gone made him feel twenty pounds lighter though.
“So I’m going to be a pilot on a Rogue Trader eh? Not bad. Not bad at all.” For a moment he thought about the look on the Captain Ikeman’s face if he could hear that. The memory of his former Captain was a sad one though. Likely the old crew was now dead. All part of a brig “reset”. He cheered himself with the thought that dead beat the brig. The melancholia quickly passed though as Uric thought about being out in the stars again. Flying a dynasty vessel and not having to dodge Imperium interdiction.
“It’s a new start Uric. Make it one to remember.”
|Chem Use (Int)||+0%|
|Common Lore (Int)||+5%||Imperial Navy, War, Tech, Koronus Expanse(10%)|
|Drive (Ag)||+5%||Ground vehicle, Skimmer/Hover|
|Forbidden Lore (Int)||+5%||Xenos, Pirates|
|Lip Reading (Per)||+0%|
|Pilot (Ag)||+20%||Space craft(20%), Flyers(20%)|
|Scholastic Lore (Int)||+5%||Astromancy|
|Secret Tongue (Int)||+0%|
|Silent Move (Ag)||+0%|
|Sleight of Hand (Ag)||+5%|
|Speak Language (Int)||+5%||Low gothic|
|Speak Language (Int)||+0%|
|Master helmsman||+10 Evasive maneuvers|
Talents & Traits
|Enemy||Adeptus Arbites: Renegade|
|Melee Weapon Training (Univ)||Chain, Shock, Power||C103|
|Nerves of steel|
|Pistol Weapon Training|
|Bolt pistol (Com)|
|Guard flak armor|
|Blessed ship token|