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File: 1340150241051.jpg-(38 KB, 640x397, shipleavingwarp.jpg)
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From the fiery hell of thirty fire ships and into the warp, shit happens!
>>
You are Elesh Phryx, lumberjack and right proper OK bonnie lass. The rhythmic sound of your axe biting into the base of a tree fills your ears as the impacts echo within your toned flesh. Working since sunrise, you've managed to fell scores of giant redwood, larch, pine and mighty scotts pine. As the fruits of your labor float down the mighty rivers of British Columbia, you briefly consider leaping across the massive trees and heading home. Surely, your best girl will be waiting for you with dinner prepared as the sun and its rays fade over the mountains and trees to your west.

>What shall you do, lumberjack?
>>
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Elesh what?
>>
>>19547593
>What shall you do, lumberjack?
Let's put on men's clothing and hang around in bars!
>>
>>19547593
... What the hell are you smoking MachineSpirit?
Uhhh... Head back home I guess?
>>
archive:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Privateer%20Quest

previous thread:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/19401111/

>>19547622
I smoke nothing
>>
>>19547593
Hmm. Guess Elesh has either been hit in the head really bad or this is some weird dream. Might as well head on back home, like what was suggested.
>>
The roar of hundreds of primitive engines assaults your hearing as the sharp smells of oils and gunpowder rushes into your lungs upon frosty air. Voices fill your mind, calling out with a distinct resolve that lingers upon the edge of panic. Sharp reports of weapons fire burst from your surroundings as you study the strange interior that suddenly surrounds you; green paint, perhaps a zinc chromate, covering a metal frame of some sort. Lost in your study of the strange framework, you take a moment to notice the four strangely dressed humans that also occupy the space. One sits at the primitive controls of the vehicle, frantically looking out of his craft into the surrounding clouds, struggling to keep view of some unseen object. A second sits beside the apparent pilot, lifeless as his blood drips from the majority of the cockpit's instruments. The third and fourth humans are much the same, both shredded by weapons fire and laying before and behind you, respectively. Gazing thru the conveniently located holes in the craft's thin hull, you quickly note the massive wings and four purring, propeller spinning engines to the craft's sides.

>cont.
>>
"He's coming around! Someone get him dammit!" cries the pilot, his eyes following something that seems to be moving above the craft. Stepping forward, you note the single-engined craft maneuvering for another attack run, the spinning yellow trim upon the craft's nose contrasting sharply with your own craft's dorsal turret armaments. And fine armaments they appear to be, something primitive is stirred within by the twin autoguns.

>orders?
>>
I've not gone mad, promise.
>>
>>19547828
Well let's not ignore that pilot. Get dem turrets shooting at what's coming at us.
>>
>>19547910

2D100

call high/low on each!
>>
rolled 96 = 96

>>19547916
Calling high on this one.
>>
rolled 84 = 84

>>19547916
low
>>
>>19547608
That's what happens when you let /tg/ name the character, and the quest started back when Elesh Norn was /tg/'s waifu.
>>
Oh hey, I thought this quest had died. Good to see it around.
>>
The dorsal turret responds instantly as you apply pressure to its controls, rotating to bring the twin weapons to bear upon the fighter as it practically hovers in a tight turn. A slight squeeze is all it takes for your weapons to erupt with fury, sending a series of tracer rounds toward your target. Debris flies wildly from the fighter, along with a barely-visible mist that soon engulfs the craft in flame as it barely clears your own craft's right wing.

"Williams! Get up here! We're on -"

Athe's arms wrap around your flannel clad form as her lips press against your neck. "I don't care what those mounties think. You look better in men's clothing."

With a belly full of your best girl's finest rustic cooking, you prepare to hang around in the nearby town's local bar.

>How lumberjack will you be?
>>
File: 1340153042122.jpg-(53 KB, 520x386, san check.jpg)
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Oh god what?
>>
rolled 12 = 12

>>19548229
san check
>>
>>19548167
It must be space.... MADNESS.
>>
>>19548280

D100 roll

call high/low
>>
>>19548280
Well, we did make an emergency jump into the Warp in a ship that had nearly been destroyed. We're probably better off hallucinating than actually being aware of the horrors unfolding aboard our vessel right now.
>>
>>19548286
Somebody else roll for this, I always end up fucking us over when I roll.
>>
rolled 64 = 64

>>19548286
Calling it low.
>>
>>19548320
Damn. I think I got us some trabble.
>>
>>19548320

With a sigh, you store away the revised prototype you'd intended for the wounded armswoman. Looking over the projects you've recently completed, you mentally set your mechadendrites onto an automated cleaning cycle. By the Omnissiah, you've gotten so much work done. Athe's voice interrupts your thoughts, causing you to look over the mess formerly known as your work station.

"Isn't she beautiful?" whispers Athe, babe in her arms. Something within your chest swells and tumbles about as you smile down at your flannel-wrapped child. "Do you think she has my eyes or yours, Elesh?"

>!?!?!?!
>>
>>19548436
Dammit Athe, genetic engineering is a sin against the Emperor!
>>
>>19548436
Neither! She has Bob's eyes!
>>
File: 1340154263825.jpg-(81 KB, 475x227, Heresy Bar.jpg)
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>>19548493
>implying every variety of heresy imaginable
Sounds about right.
>>
>>19548493
In the traditional sense of how that phrase is used or literally as in Bob's eyes were torn out and used to make some kind of vat grown abomination...
>>
>>19548436
Run diagnostics. And a defrag, while we're at it.
>>
>>19548547

roll 1D100
>>
rolled 100 = 100

>>19548575
>>
>>19548593
Best defrag ever.
>>
rolled 24 = 24

>>19548575
>COGITATORS RUN DIAGNOSTIC ON FLESH BRAIN STAT!
>>
File: 1340154669384.png-(176 KB, 536x330, Event Horizon 3.png)
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>>19548593
>defrag the hard drive
>100
>suddenly, LIBERATE TUTEMAE EX INFERIS
>>
"I'm not sure, Athe. But she'll be felling redwoods with her hands, more than likely. Let us celebrate with some buttered seconds and tea."

Your spitfire's engine rumbles in perfect tune as you fly beside the struggling American behemoth. Two of her engines struggle to power the massive bomber toward England as a third struggles to sputter and pull its weight for the stricken bomber. The fourth engine was clearly on fire at one point, and still smoulders as fluids threaten to reignite and doom what crew has survived this long. A kilometer before you, Dover's cliffs loom menacingly in the afternoon sun.

"We're losing altitude fast, how high are those cliffs again?" calls the crippled bomber's pilot.

"You can make it, Yank. Keep going!" cries your flight lead.

Your head feels strange for a moment, like some sort of tiny gears started spinning or something. Bloody Hell, you'll need some tea after this patrol.

>thoughts?
>>
File: 1340155433408.jpg-(19 KB, 220x322, 220px-Wernher_von_Braun_crop.jpg)
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>>19548765
>thoughts?
Why the fuck are we flying with the Brits? Germany is where it's at for a young enterprising techp... engineer.
You'll even get a cool job with the Yanks afterwards.
>>
>>19548765
>thoughts?
I feel like we need to check the gellar field.
>>
>>19548765
Don't bullshit the American pilots. If they're not going to make it they have a right to know so they can make peace with God.
>>
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>>19548819
>siding with the Germans
mah nigga
>>
File: 1340155667843.jpg-(27 KB, 462x367, Sam Neill 1.jpg)
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>mfw this thread
Either I've gone insane, OP's gone insane, our character's gone insane, or some combination thereof.
>>
Wind blows at you, throwing your hair about wildly as you find yourself back in the lumbering bomber. Voices echo in your mind over the faint whirl of gears, though a much louder grinding of gears eminates from a crank spun frantically by a wounded crewman as he stares down. For a moment you nearly lose yourself at the sight of fast-moving ground some several hundred feet below, and slowly growing nearer.

"We can't get Rascal out! The ball is jammed!"
"Then get that damned wheel down! We might not make the runway if we lose another engine!"

As you watch, the frantic man on the crank begins to quietly chant as his body threatens to tire. "We're not gonna die. We're not gonna die"

>orders?
>>
>>19548988
>We're not gonna die. We're not gonna die
Inform him that from a metaphysical perspective, he couldn't be more wrong.
>>
>>19548988
Well, start chanting the litany of getting the fucking weel down. And then start hitting the mechanism that's stuck with a wrench.

Somebody else is already chanting the litany of survival, so we got that one covered.
>>
>>19548988
Techpriest to the rescue.

1. Unjam the ball and get Rascal out. He must survive so he can be punished for allowing the Omnissiah's ball to jam.

2. Get the wheel down. Otherwise this noble craft will be damaged or possibly destroyed and we will be haunted by its machine spirit in the afterlife.
>>
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>>19549010

>crew's faces when
>>
>>19549070

confirm order of objectives and roll 3D100

call high/low with your roll

The ground seems to be getting quite near...
>>
rolled 81 = 81

>>19549177
High
>>
rolled 50 = 50

>>19549177
low
>>
rolled 65 = 65

>>19549177
Low.
>>
>>19549070
Yeah, let's go with this order for what we're trying to accomplish.
>>
With purpose, you throw yourself toward the mid section of the aircraft by instinct alone, finding the so-called "ball" turret that protects the aircraft's belly. Shoving a crew member aside, you quickly effect minor repairs to the damaged hydraulic system and bring the turret back online. As you head back toward the man frantically working the crank mechanism, you note the 'Rascal' character being pulled from the cramped mechanism.

Searching for any sort of repairable mechanism for the landing gear is futile, however. It seems that the systems are located in inaccessible locations except for the manual hand crank. Attempting to relieve the exhausted man on the crank, you notice too late that the ground is upon you. Rubber screeches and burns as the wheels impact the ground, driving yourself and the crew downward as the aircraft bounces back into flight. The second impact has no such sounds, only a horrifying symphony of strained metal as the aircraft breaks against the ground. You faintly recognize the smell of fire as your head clears, surrounded by only a corpse and twisted metal. From the tortured aircraft springs a horror of the warp, intent upon claiming your soul for itself after torturing your mind into a weakened state.

>cont
>>
With a clawed hand around your stunned neck, the beast brings its maw toward your face. A fantastic ethereal being drives straight into the beast's dark form, driving both forms deep within the wreckage of the aircraft. Weakly, you recall Teris describing such a strange blue creature... when was it?

With a sharp gasp, you awake on the deck of your workshop, Athe kneeling beside you.

"Elesh!? Elesh!?"

"Stirred, not shaken..."

>orders?
>"months" have passed in warp time.
>All "pending" research has been completed (I have a list somewhere...)
>final chance to get any "research" objectives mentioned for completion
>>
>>19549596
Let's find out how our ship is doing after that warp travel. As well as where the hell are we.
>>
>>19549596
>orders?
-See if anybody know when we can leave the warp again.

-Ask Teris what that blue thing was.

>research
-Eldar crystals
-The dude in our servo skull
-Named female characters' fleshy bits
>>
>>19549596
Ask Athe something only she would know. Got to make sure we aren't still under the influence of the daemon.
>>
>>19549669
you'll have to specify such things!

What would only Athe know?
>>
>>19549679
Whose eyes did our child have? Hers or ours?
>>
>>19549709
I think the child was just the daemon playing with our mind.
>>
>>19549679
Our favorite position in bed? I dunno. Much of our relationship has been "fade to black."
>>
>>19549536
>Save dude from the turret
>Dies anyway
Neat.
>>
"Whose eyes did our child have?"

Athe looks at you with a strange mixture of emotions before her hand strikes you across the face and sends your brain spinning. "You'd better not be going warp mad too, Elesh. I need my fucking captain to be at least partially sound of mind."

"... What is my favorite position in bed?"

Your XO sighs, shaking her head. "Depends on the cogitator, probably."

"... Stop that."

In strangely good humor, you make your way back to 'Sword of the Omnissiah's bridge and your chief Navigator upon her dais. "Captain Elesh! I hope that this journey's time dilation has not bothered you?"

>orders?
>>
>>19549975
Okay, it's her.

Let's keep the details of our madness to ourselves, shall we?
>>
>>19549975

derp, thats me.
>>
find a port in order to repair and then EXPLORE the rest of the uncharted star systems also perhaps check up on the cruiser is going along with repairs and find a crew for it
>>
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>>19549975
So, where did we end up?

Because I'm feeling like we're somewhere around Barstow, with the goddamn bats.
>>
"I'm afraid that the time dilation we've encountered on our journey has thrown the second transport away from us, though 'Zephyr Spirit' has managed to remain with us. By my estimate, our best choice of exit point will be the system we located with your map. I fear that heading for Serentus will further distort our perception of time beyond the limits of the crew." You can't help but notice Teris' haggard appearance and the slump in her shoulders that isn't normally there.

"How long have you been on duty, Teris?"

"An hour, a month... I'm unsure. They dais' systems have kept me sustained."

>orders?
>Head for that system you never named
>We really need to head to Serentus, risk it!
>>
>>19550243
To the never names system.
>>
>>19550243
Head for our unnamed system. Perhaps Advi retreated there after the attack and we can regroup and plan our next move.
>>
>>19550243
>Head for that system you never named
Better than losing Teris.

>"I'm afraid that the time dilation we've encountered on our journey has thrown the second transport away from us,
"Do you think they have a chance on their own?"

And have one of the hospitallers see if she can do anything for Teris.
>>
>>19550284
'Sword of the Omnissiah' carries no Hospitallers.


Teris simply shrugs. "If their navigator had the skill, they could have made it to Serentus. If not, they may emerge in a system yet to be discovered."
>>
>>19550284
Meh. The Zephyr Spirit was the only one we had an ownership stake in anyway. It's not like we're a bloody humanitarian or anything.

A prayer for the souls of the other transport's crew should suffice.

Onward to the nameless system!
>>
>>19550340
Oh, sorry. Somebody from our medicae deck, then.
>>
"Call in your relief and report to the medicae deck for examination, Teris. Your relief may set course for our unnamed system."

For a moment your chief navigator looks to protest your orders, but quickly submits. "Very well, Captain Phryx."

"And be sure that you don't bring us out of the warp into a forming planetoid again. The ship is damaged enough."


You spend the remaining, seemingly variable time of your journey double and triple checking your various projects and furthering your knowledge of Athe's flesh. Knowledge is knowledge, damn it. Shut up, cogitators. We can't all be obsessed with damned machines! While your flesh brain and cogitators argue once more, you are summoned to the bridge by Teris. "We're preparing to exit the warp, Captain."

'Sword of the Omnissiah' and 'Zephyr Spirit' return to the matterium deep in the void, your augers barely able to sense the system's outer debris sphere.

"That is... strange." mutters Teris. "We're in the correct location, but the system has, well. It's moved, Captain."

"Bullshit." huffs Athe, "Systems don't just fucking move that far in such a short time."

>orders?
>>
>>19550653
> "Systems don't just fucking move that far in such a short time."
>500 years later
ಠ_ಠ
>>
>>19550653
Make for the system and begin repairs after we've made sure the coast is clear.
>>
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An astropath begs your pardon as your officers banter aimlessly at the strange event. "Captain, I've received response from the Serentus system. According to their date, nearly three weeks has passed since we left Tortuga. We've yet to receive word from Magos Banks or Tortuga in response, though 'Heavenly Forge' has been assisting Serentus and the Navy forces there with repairs."

"Get us into the system and get what repairs are possible underway. What we can't repair without a proper facility can wait."

Your bridge crew's banter quiets to an occasional murmur as your orders are followed, while you turn to the astropath. "Get me in contact with Tortuga or someone who knows what happened, then get me a status report from Advi and Serentus. Do not return without both."

>calling thread here. Next thread on THURSDAY @ 7:30PM EST
>By the Omnissiah, so much lightning outside
>usual Q&A if anyone has questions (no promises, should lightning strike)
>Madness: hate it? entertained? WANT TO KILL OP BECAUSE OF IT?
>>
>>19550912
>>Madness
I'm indifferent. Probably because I don't particularly care about ww2 bomber crews.

And I usually prefer it when I have the slightest clue what consequences the choices I make have. But I guess with madness, that's out of the window.
>>
>>19550973
right, right...

your actions (and rolls) during the madness have granted you:
+1 Ballistic skill
+minor exp to Tech Use skill

Honestly, you were jumping between 4 possible "events" at random (dice roll on my end). Only 1 was the WW2 bomber crew, but the cogitator defrag locked you into it.

The whole idea made sense in my head, kind of.
>>
>>19551040
>The whole idea made sense in my head, kind of.

It sure as hell was confusing, that's probably a good thing for a non-malignant warp effect.

WW2 bomber just was just hit and miss for me. Now, submarines, on the other hand....
>>
>>19551040
From Elesh's perspective, it must have been confusing as fuck, what with not knowing about WWII and all that.
>>
>>19551116

submarines was on my list of ideas, but just didn't make the cut. I had no decent submarine movies to rip off ideas from, nor fun stories from veterans.

That and I'd have gotten distracted by jokes about spending long periods of time in long metal tubes surrounded by seamen.
>>
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>>19551185
>I had no decent submarine movies to rip off ideas from

Don't tell me you haven't seen "Das Boot".
>>
>>19551209
not in a long time


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