Aboard The Damos shipEdit
This is my Journal. I am Missionary Samson Ferric. A newly appointed missionary that has been recruited into the Damos fleet's numbers. I'm currently assigned under Captain, Lieutenant Faux Shot, whom I owe a considerable debt of gratitude.
Faux Shot hasn't told me the exact reasons why he came to the Imperium world I was training on. Every time I bring the subject up, he tells me that it isn't my business. Perhaps I'm pushing my luck here. After all, he did want a missionary from church, once his business was done, and I was specifically chosen by my superior to aid him.
It didn't take me long to find out why I was chosen. The crew is the most heretical group I have ever laid eyes on. (Save one exception.) One can wonder if this group really is in fact an Imperium force. In other words, my bishop picked me since I was the least liked member of my parish, and was getting rid of me for good by putting me here.
As for the crew themselves, some heretics stand out more than others. A giant ork by the name of Grok is strangely friendly to me, but he is as loathsome as my superiors made his kind out to be. An eldar named Necro stands in the shadowy corners of the ship, watching everyone in the room. A rather heavily armed Kroot is constantly tearing at, what I hope is, a piece of steak. An Explorator named RDM is always in the engine room. And lastly a freak of a Astropath by the name of Velnoth that is constantly muttering to himself in a maniacal fashion.
The only decent members of the crew seem to be Captain Faux Shot who runs the ship. The main pilot, Nathan who seems too laid back for his own good. A female Arch Militant, whom seems to be in the middle of transferring off the ship. And then me, the living proof that the God-Emperor hasn't abandoned this ship.
That being said, God-Emperor has a strange and mysterious way of steering one's destiny. We were making our way to a Forge world to look for supplies when we were stopped by an Imperium vessel. Much to our surprise, the majestic ship belonged to our Supreme commander, Lord Tarron Damos, who boarded our ship to inspect it.
I had never seen him till now, but now that I have, I couldn't believe my eyes. Tarron Damos had the physical build of a fit body builder. He had eyes that seemed to pierce into one's very soul, and a scowl so fierce, I was afraid to utter a single word. His most defining feature though, was his wings. Yes, Tarron Damos was blessed with a pair of spectacular angelic wings. Their mighty appearance completed Tarron's intimidating visage, making him look like a divine being amongst us mortal men. (A wraithful one.)
Faux Shot greeted Tarron, and invited him into his Captains quarters, leaving the rest of us to wait for them in the mess hall. At the time only the female militant, Kroot, Nathan, Grok, and I were eating in the mess hall. The others were else where on our ship. We were surrounded by Tarron's elite troops as they dined (and I must stress that I use this word loosely) around us.
Everything seemed to be in order. We weren't talking amongst each other, but we weren't being disturbed either; Until one drunken sod of a soldier bumbled over to the woman and spoke with her. "Hey.... You there pretty girrrrly. I'm a man. And you're a chick. And were in space. How's about we go to my quarters, and get orbital?"
I had never seen a person's face turn into a scarlet red as deep as the girl's face turned in my life. She tried to speak, but the words didn't form. Instead she stood up and yelling at the top of her lungs, right hooked the drunk so hard, he was sent flying back to his seat. Silence perpetrated throughout the hall, as the drunk's buddies stood up as one unit and began to advance on us. A silence broken by cheers, and cat calls, as the rest of the soldiers turned to witness the upcoming fight.
What happened next was a bit of a blur to me, but I do remember some things. The Kroot leaped at one of the soldiers, stabbing the man with his beak. The woman was now engaging with the sod's friend. Nathan and Grok fought other soldiers. I decided to assist the woman, and I tried to hit the man with my deluxe bible of the God-Emperor, but missed. The man got a punch on the woman, sending her to the ground.
As he was laughing at his victory, he completely forgot about me. I took my bible in one hand, and struck him with the spine of the book square in the face; sending him sailing across the room.
That's when we heard a roar of anger as Lord Tarron Damos entered the mess hall, and started berating his men for their disorderly conduct. His face turned a deeper red than the Militant's face earlier, and as he yelled, a rain of spit splattered on his soldiers. After Faux Shot had taken us outside the mess hall and Tarron Damos rounded up the men involved in the brawl; Damos stepped out of the mess hall, took out two grenades and threw them inside. There was no survivors from the resulting explosion.
Later, I performed the last rights on the dead and burned their corpses. May the God-Emperor have mercy on thier souls.
Samson's Journal: Aboard the Damos Flagship