Fleet of the Black Maw

[Carrack]

The Blood Eye

 

In the silent, cold, desert of the void a hunter stalks its prey. The prey is panicking, venting gasses and jettisoning chaff to obscure the predator's senses. The predator is not so easily fooled. The prey is screaming for help across the vox and out into the turmoil of the warp. The cries for help will not be answered in time.

 

In nature, after the chase, when a predator finally seizes its prey, the prey will die a death as quick and clean as its predator can safely deliver. But the blackness of the void is not nature, and the promise of a quick and clean death is not even a remote possibility. For the prey is a chartered vessel of the Imperium, and the predator is a Black Legion Warship. So the prey, the great liner Sojourner, seeks its own clean death by diving at the massive gas giant on the outermost edge of the system, the edge of the void desert. The Sojourner hopes to keep its overloaded holds of pilgrims from the damnation they will face if they are captured, by crushing all souls aboard in the gravity of the massive planet. But the Sojourners efforts are futile for it can not hope to outrun the Blood Eye, a warship forged with craftsmanship and technology long forgotten, an original Astartes Strike Cruiser.

 

Well short of the terminus of the Sojourner's suicide run, a cutting beam of energy slices apart the main engines in her stern, hobbling her speed long enough for the Blood Eye to come abeam. A single volley from the Arch-Enemy's broadsides opens the Sojourner's flank to the void. The panic of the crew and passengers reaches a crescendo, and they begin to riot, those that are not sucked out into the vacuum of space to freeze as air bubbles in their lungs and bloodstream explode from the pressure change. The rioters know the end is nigh. The Blood Eye launches its Dreadclaws.

 

Once loyal heroes whom strode battlefields at the dawn of the Imperium, run the decks red with the blood of martyrs. With no hesitation they slaughter, for their oaths were broken long ago. Where once they fought for the ideals of a secular society, now they scream, "Blood for the Blood God!" That these beast were once human is terrifying enough, but now they are so much more, more than human and more than terrifying. They tower over their prey in baroque and ancient black armor. Armor that a mere mortal would struggle to lift. Armor festooned with skulls and hooks. Great helms sprout brass tipped horns and the burning rune of the Blood God.

 

Some claim that Khorne is a God of martial prowess and honorable combat. Deluded fools. The berzerkers rip apart the hapless pilgrims with bolt pistols and chain axes, decorating themselves and the Sojourner's corridors with blood and gobbets of meat. Only after an offering of blood is given, do the Black Legion relent to take slaves and plunder.

 

The Sojourner was neither seen nor heard from since by the Imperium of Man. Much to the Imperium's horror, the same can not be said of the Blood Eye.

 

 

 

 

 

Zanazar's fleet.

 

Zanazar was a Rogue Trader whose family writ was signed and sealed by the High Lords of Terra in the late 38th millennium, awarded to Lord Marshall Zanazar upon his retirement from the Astra Militarium. At the dawn of the 40th millennium, the Zanazar fortunes began to slide, and when the current Zanazar inherited the Warrant of Trade, the family was down to operating a single packet ship carrying small cargoes, passengers, and mail.

 

The new Zanazar was determined to see his dynasty's fortunes flourish back into the extravagance of the family legends he was raised with. To this end he cast aside his scruples in exchange for coin. He evaded tariffs, smuggled illegal cargo, traded in proscribed xenotech, and even acted as a courier for heretics based in the Ocularis Terribus. For decades he amassed fortunes, while dodging local customs, the Imperial Navy, and even the Ordos of the Inquisition.

 

By the time the Inquisition had enough on him to forfeit his Warrant of Trade and excommunicate his dynasty, his single packet ship had grown to a small fleet. Rather than face the ire and the fire of the Inquisition, Zanazar fled to the Eye of Terror and took employ with the Black Legion. In particular, the Black Maw warband lead by Lord Carrack, the Doom of Kasr Woolten.

 

As an influential human renegade of the warband, he is required to answer any request for service the warband asks of him, and council Lord Carrack when called to do so. In practice however, Lord Carrack allows Zanazar to operate his merchant fleet as he sees fit when they are not needed for a major campaign, and the tribute freely flows. In return, Zanazar sails under the protection of the Black Legion Colors and can call port in many areas controlled by the Black Legion. At least those hospitable to the Black Maw.

 

The Ruby Mace

 

 

The Ruby Mace is a heavily modified Lunar class cruiser that serves as Zanazar's Flagship. The prow armor and weapons have been removed in order to open up additional cargo capacity. Likewise, the vessel has been refitted with smaller engines for the same purpose. The smaller engines employ a xenotech power plant adapted from the mysterious Demiurge, and subsequently, their is no major loss in speed. The Ruby Mace still retains its port and starboard macro cannon batteries which make it a capable, but less effective battle cruiser.

 

Zanazar came into possession of the Ruby Mace through subterfuge and piracy. During his days as a semi legitimate rogue trader, he had subverted a staff officer from Battlefleet Obscuras with bribes and later blackmail. This officer occasionally feeds Zanazar with intelligence on patrol routes that are filed at Battlefleet Headquarters on Crypta Mundi. On one such occasion, Zanazar found out about a solo mission the Ruby Mace was undertaking to reinforce Battlegroup 3 stationed near the Cadian Gate. Zanazar collaborated with the Kabal of the Envenomed Blade, and waited in the wings while the Dark Eldar ambushed the Ruby Mace and enslaved all survivors of the battle. After the Kabal fled back to the webway, Zanazar swooped in and hauled the ship to a secluded point in the void where he could affect rapid repairs and bring the ship to port at his Black Maw patrons facilities on Howler's Charn. Three years of modifications and the Ruby Mace was reconsecrated as a Black Legion Vessel.

 

 

Unfortunately for Zanazar, the hasty refitting failed to completely kill the loyal machine spirit. The remains of the loyal navy machine spirit strikes back in revenge from the shadows when it can. Sometimes it will vent plasma into a unsealed conduit. Other times doors will jam at crucial times. As a result, accidental deaths are noticeably more frequent aboard the Ruby Mace, but not enough to have a major affect on the operation of the warship. The Dark Magos of the ship have divined a way to kill the loyalist machine spirit once and for all, but it involves binding a demon into the data core, which Zanazar is reluctant to do. Rumors also abound of a group of loyalist that have hidden themselves in the spaces between decks, and wage guerrilla warfare on the current crew, but then, void sailors are a superstitious lot, and life on a warship always has hidden perils.

 

When called upon by Lord Carrack to serve in his fleet, the Ruby Mace has the honor of carrying much of the armor, and mechanized infantry, of the human host that follow the Black Maw warband. But the Ruby Mace also has the higher honor of trailing Lord Carrack's flagship, Bitter Revenge, protecting its stern and able to rush in with its punishing broadsides to respond to any enemy that breaks into the Black Maw's formation. The fact that the Ruby Mace has no prow weapons to aim into the Bitter Revenge's stern has alluded no one.

 

When Zanazar voyages out on his own trade interests, he often travels in a large convoy with the Ruby Mace in the center. This offers his ships and cargo protection from minor pirates and raiders, while providing a more tempting target to the larger warbands that prowl the fragile trade routes in the Eye of Terror. The Ruby Mace is too well known to be seen close to the Cadian Gate, and if Zanazar wishes to leave the Eye he must do so at less stable access points.

 

 

Thrall's Lament

 

 

The Thrall's Lament is slow.l, she has no real teeth, and her armor is minimal. Yet she can do one important task very well, she can haul cargo. Particularly, she can haul unwilling, human cargo. This huge ship is filled with slave pens and containment cells, as well as the never ending echoes of screams. The crew and slavers of the ship are those that revel in the suffering of their fellow man. This is a trait that is carried from the lowliest whip master to the ships captain, who goes by the title of The Lady of the Nine, a reference to her symbol of office, a nine tailed mono wire scourge. Time and time again, she has passed up opportunities to take command of both more lucrative merchantmen, and more prestigious warships, as such offers would not afford her the same opportunity to preside over the misery she revels in on Thrall's Lament.

 

Although small holds are scattered throughout the ship, the majority of the cargo is held on four main decks. The bottom most main deck is known as the Deck of Despair, and it's crew is deep in the sway of a cult of Nurgle. This deck tightly packs in the least valuable of slaves taken in war, the rudest of the untrained labor, as well as the sick, and infirm. Disease and starvation whittle down the chattel until only true survivors remain to be sold at the next port of call. Above the Deck of Despair lies the Bloody Sands deck. The Bloody Sands deck is aptly named for both its large sand-floored pens, and it's crew who openly worship Khorne. On this deck, prisoners are forced to fight one another for the amusement of the crew and to honor the Skull King. The lost revenue of killed slaves is recuperated, in part, by being able to sell proven warriors. Above the gladiatorial pens of the Bloody Sands, lies the Halls of Mystery. This deck consists of individual cells where the Tzentch aligned crew conduct experiments and introduce mutagens to its doomed passengers. The top most main cargo deck is called the Theater of Excess, and it is best not to describe the performances that are conducted there.

 

The Lady of the Nine is a vassal of Lord Carrack of the Black Maw, after her services were acquired from Abaddon in reward for actions that benefitted the whole of the Black Legion during the Gothic War, known as the 12th Black Crusade. Although a direct vassal of Lord Carrack, the Lady of the Nine falls under command of the truly rogue trader Zanazar, due to personal debts she has accrued to him in repairing the Thrall's Lament, and the support role of her ship. In battle the Thrall's Lament stays to the rear, waiting for an opportunity to sweep in after an invasion and fill her holds with the soon to be damned. However, on one occasion following a closely fought defeat of the Black Legion on Hyron's Rock, she took a more prominent role by emptying the holds of tormented souls were onto the planet in order to distract and delay Imperial pursuit.

 

 

Full Coffers

 

Full Coffers is a packet ship, designed to carry small cargoes, a handful of passengers, and mail. It is comparatively small for a warp capable ship, well under 500 meters in overall length. It lacks armor and weapons other than four ballista pattern auto cannon turrets, which are more suited for blasting away flotsam that drifts too close to the fragile vessel than other ships. What Full Coffers has going for her though, is tremendous speed. The value of a packet ship is that it can carry dispatches faster than a traditional merchantman. In a sense, packet ships compete more with Astropaths than with other ships. They are obviously slower than psychic transmission of data, but they are the next fastest means of communication, and have the advantage of being able to transmit massive amounts of data without the fear of the vagaries of interpretation of a psychic message. They do have to contend with the uncertainty of warp travel however, so are not an entirely reliable form of communication. In any event, Full Coffers can run. Before Zanazar's fall to Chaos, the ship had won a number of prestigious void races.

 

Full Coffers is commanded by Zanazar the Younger, heir apparent to the Zanazar fleet. He carries dispatches for both his father, and his master, Lord Carrack, Slayer of Multitudes. Expensive forgeries and tampered Identity transmitters have also allowed Zanazar the Younger to frequently infiltrate Imperial space at the behests of his father and the Black Maw warband. These voyages usually serve three purposes. First and foremost, they are intelligence gathering missions. Zanazar the Younger and his specialists assay the defenses of Imperial worlds, take note of troop and fleet movements, and learn what they can of events in the Imperium. Secondly, these missions often insert trained cult magos into Imperial societies, where they can found cults and weaken the worlds for future conquest. Many of these cultist are the so called Disciples of Lavam, proselytes of the Black Legion Dark Disciple Lavam. Thirdly, Zanazar the Younger carries small but valuable cargo to trade with the Imperium, a minimal trade, but sometimes a lucrative one. He is fond of dealing with works d'art, gemstones and expensive drugs used in juvenat treatments.

 

Only when the entire fleet of the the Black Maw embarks on a massive military operation, will Full Coffers be included. In these circumstances, the fast ship is usually called on to scout the enemy and avoid engagement at all cost. She did manage to win one battle honor during the conquest of Frederic III, now called Hells Holdfast. In the aftermath of the conquest, Zanazar the Younger caught the Imperial Governor fleeing in his undefended void yacht, and tore apart the orbital pleasure boat with his defensive turrets. When they recovered the Imperial Governor's lifeboat, the disgraced former ruler had fell upon his sword for honor. Seeing the opportunity, Zanazar the Younger voided the airlock on the only other witnesses, his bodyguards, and claimed that he killed the governor in a personal duel.

 

[Carrack]

Scalpella

 

The Scalpella is a pirate raider attached to the Black Maw Warband of Lord Carrack. In front of the Black Maw colors, she flies the Eye of Horus of the Black Legion, and her black paint and gold accents clearly display her allegiance to the Warmaster.

 

The Scalpella is a Mako class escort vessel. She boasts port and starboard Phlegathon pattern melta batteries, extremely limited in range, but capable of damaging capital ships with a broadside volley. Almost as an afterthought, Mako class warships have a single tube torpedo launcher mounted in the prow, to give them some measure of offensive ability at range.

 

Captain Mallori commands the Scalpella from the flying bridge where she is permanently enthroned in a bubbling tub of neural responsive gel. The tub, obviously xenotech, is encased in a baroque latticework of wrought iron that conceals all of her once human form, save for her achingly beautiful face. She owes fealty to Lord Carrack, and according to her oath of service, must accompany his flagship two thirds of the Terran year, as calculated by the Heretek, Gloester the Chronomancer. During her time in Lord Carrack's fleet, Captain Mallori typically is required to keep Scalpella close to Lord Carrack's Bitter Revenge, in order to deter enemies from getting to close to the Bitter Revenge's vulnerable flanks. However, if an opening presents itself, typically after the break up of the enemy's formation, Captain Mallori will order her engines slave masters to be more liberal with their whips and speed the vessel in for a quick kill at close range.

 

Captain Mallori occasionally does well with her share of plunder while meeting her feudal obligation to Lord Carrack, but other times there is little to be looted when the Slayer of Multitudes engages in strictly military endeavors. The real economic gains are made during her 1/3 of a year free reign. Most of these times she strikes out on her own with carefully purchased information on Imperial shipping routes from her informants in Howler's Charn, and from diviners she bribes within the Eye of Terra. She aims to hit lightly escorted merchant convoys as they return to real space at undefended translation points. When she catches such prey, she launches all 6 of her torpedoes at one escort in sequence as she closes with another. Scalpella's armor is sufficient to withstand most other escorts, save those of ship destroyers, which rarely guard convoys. Once the defenders are dealt with she approaches each merchantmen and gives them the option of surrender. If they do, she either takes their cargo, or if their crew is light enough, takes their ship as a prize. If they resist she blasts them apart and salvages what she can. The Scalpella simply does not have enough crew normally for any protracted boarding operations.

 

She rarely takes part in larger organized raids under the command of another pirate captain due to bad experiences with the division of plunder. However, twice before she has taken two up gunned refitted merchantmen along with her to provide additional cargo capacity and marauders to strike lightly defended agri worlds. She only considers this when the price of grain or grox is unusually high at Howler's Charn.

 

On her last week independent raid, the Scalpella took on a squad of renegade Astartes whom had recently taken the Black of the XVI Legion, and were also complete with their own yearly feudal service to their liege, Lord Carrack. With these lethal warriors, and along with her own boarding party, she was able to capture a Battlefleet Obscures observation station. She held the station for thirty-three days sending out false signals to confound the loyalists, while plundering the data core of the station and hauling off its personnel and everything of even trivial value. They even ripped out the plumbing pipes and rivets in much of the station. She left what remained mined and trapped as well. Although it was no great haul as far as pirate raids go, Lord Carrack appreciated the strategic impact and awarded her with an honor banner, the feudal rights to an aqua farming village on Hell Holdfast, and most importantly a lowered tribute rate for the next 13 years.

 

Much of Captain Mallori's ill gotten gains go to the upkeep and repairs of Scalpella. What remains is banked in order for her to purchase a sister escort vessel. She will soon be able to complete this goal, and is meticulously selecting a captain and bridge officers she can trust to crew the new vessel. Ultimately she would like to claim the rank of commodore and command a full squadron of escorts.

[Carrack]

Bitter Revenge

 

You are the Elect. You will lead men and women in battle. You will sail the stars and the Aether in between them. You will make worlds tremble. You will serve amongst demigods, gods of war. You are the Elect. You have been chosen to become officers aboard Lord Carrack's flag ship, The Bitter Revenge. You most assuredly, do not deserve this honor.

 

Perhaps you were born into this class. Perhaps you attended the academy at Howler's Charn. Maybe you were rewarded this opportunity by an officer or one of the great Legionaries. Maybe you bribed your way out of the lower decks with stolen coin. It matters not, learn your occupation or be cast out of the Elect. While your days are spent training with your mentors, your nights will be spent studying the knowledge required of your class, starting with this treatise on the organism of the warship you will live and die upon. Sleep when you can at your own peril.

 

The Anatomy of Revenge

 

The ship, the skeleton. The Bitter Revenge started out as a Retaliator Class Grand Cruiser constructed at some forgotten forge world of the Corpse God's lackeys in the 35th millennium. Numerous reconstructions, refittings, and customizations over the centuries have left Bitter Revenge with little in common with other ships of the same class.

 

The Bitter Revenge is best characterized as a lance strike ship. She is a sniper, not a knife fighter. She relies on getting into a good position, and taking apart enemies at range. The ship's broadsides have been removed in order to upgrade the engines and dorsal and prow lances. Bitter Revenge requires her squadron of cruisers and escorts to protect her flanks in close range fights. Of course she is a Black Legion warship, so her greatest weapon is the Astartes aboard her, and they are quick to take to the boarding torpedoes and dreadclaws to come to grips with the enemy.

 

The Crew, life blood of the ship. Over 90,000 souls toil away aboard the Bitter Revenge. Most are unskilled labor, mutant rabble that lift and push or pull chains and shovel waste at your orders. The rabble form short lived factions, cults, and gangs for protection from their fellows, as well as from the unspeakable horrors that pierce the gellar fields in the midst of the raging storms. These factions are frequently in conflict over choice assignments, living quarters, and other resources. Do not be surprised if your work crew shows up with an entire new cast than the previous shift. Such is life in the under decks.

 

Black Spark Technomancers, the dark heart of the ship. This the Dark Mechanicus cult that worships and attends the engines and generatorums of the vessel. They control the power of the ship. The vessel will not move, fire, or even allow breath to be drawn without their say. That being said, only rarely have they refused request from the Elect in the running of the ship. Just be aware that their good graces must be maintained, so keep the tribute flowing.

 

Techna-Drones, the immune system of Bitter Revenge. This is a loose confederation of the tech adepts that maintain all other aspects of the ship. They are vital in keeping Lord Carrack's Flagship operating. When a macro cannon shell breaches your deck, the Techna-Drones will be leading the damage control party in order to get you back on line. Make alliances with the Techna-Drones that you will regularly work with, while maintaining leverage over others is a wise policy for an Elect.

 

Lord Carrack and the bridge officers, the head of the ship. This is where your commands originate from. Fail to execute them and you are ultimately failing Lord Carrack, not a wise choice for one with a mortal soul. The previous commander, Lord Huma, favored intricately laid traps, often involving a carefully turned traitor in the enemy's midst. Lord Carrack studied void warfare under Lord Huma, but differs from the previous lord in two ways. First, Lord Carrack adheres to the Black Legion doctrine of applying overwhelming force to the critical point in the enemies defense much more closely than his predecessor. Secondly, the call of the Blood God rings ever in the ears of our lord, and he is never satisfied with a victory unless his axe is reddened with the blood of the Imperium.

 

The machine-spirit of the Bitter Revenge, soul of the ship. The machine spirit of our vessel is caustic and bitter. It is like ashes on your tongue. It was an imperial ship of a less than illustrious line, for which it is bitter. It was allowed to be captured by traitor marines, for which it is bitter. No attempts were ever made to reclaim it for the imperium, for which it is bitter. Warp-tainted Xenos were used to subvert its will, for which it is bitter. It was purchased by the Black Maw warband like a common commodity, like nothing more than a draw of flour bought by a matron to feed her illegitimate brats, for which it is bitter. Know that this bitterness will make those who must commune with the soul of the ship hesitant to do so. When you must get the navigator to guide the ship, or a Techna-Drone to plumb the subconscious data cores, you are asking them to open themselves to an immensely powerful spirit of pure spite. Do so sparingly and with abundant recompense.

In many ways the Bitter Revenge is an organism, it has aged, grown, hurt, and healed. She has her own soul and desires. It would be wise of you to treat her as such. The galaxy will burn in her wake.

[Carrack]

Widowmaker

 

The Bridge

 

 

 

Captain Beshar looked into the mirror as he shot back his morning schnapps. A nose that had been broken more times than he could remember did not complement the vertical scar that bisected his face from brow to lip. Both eyes were augmetic, one bulky, crude, and glowing red, the other sleek and of obvious quality. Pox marks and three days of salt and pepper stubble completed the face only a mother could love. But any mother of the pirate captain was a distant memory, for Beshar was born and bred in the hell forges of Xana II, a product of eugenic breeding, hormone catalysts, and hypno-indoctrination, rather than a loving home. Beshar shrugged on the mail coat he had taken to wear as a uniform and left his cabin for the bridge.

 

The bridge of Widowmaker, the Idolator Class Raider commanded by Captain Beshar, more closely resembled a den of inequity than a warships command deck. Obscura smoke wafted up in the rafters amongst the grizzly trophies made of failed mutineers. A low bass psychedelic tune almost drowned out the moans of the slaves. A fountain of fortified wine kept the bridge crew far from sobriety. A scattering of officers and crew had slumped into their seats or passed out prone on the deck, some over intoxicated, some with wounds from brawling. Beshar preferred his bridge in this condition for a number of reasons. First, the mock paradise was an incentive for officers to strive to get assigned to the bridge. It was certainly a more enjoyable work station than the deafening gun turret, or the sweaty enginerium. Secondly, Captain Beshar valued willpower first and foremost amongst his bridge officers, and if they could do their jobs under the decadent conditions of the Widowmaker's bridge, than they had the focus and will he desired. Those that couldn't, did not survive long. Lastly, Captain Beshar was fond of his drink, and when he stepped up to the dais supporting his command throne, his sommelier was there with a melon wine.

 

The bridge crew was an eclectic bunch, as fitting a heretical pirate ship. There was a collection of servitors, slaves, and mutant thralls, mostly chained to their stations, but the officers were all powerful individuals who had proved their right to hold their positions, sometimes by slaying their predecessors. The most important of these was known simply as "The Oracle", she was tall and slender, but the rest of her appearance was a mystery, for she was ever concealed in cowled black robes. Even her hands were covered in silk gloves, either dyed red or stained that way with blood. She was at her station, an obsidian altar, with a glass dagger and a tuning fork picking at the entrails of her latest sacrifice. Beshar had to have gullies and drains installed around her station to keep the bridge free of puddles, such was her bloodthirsty toll on the slaves. Still she guided the ship through the warp, and was cheaper than a renegade Navigator. Another important officer was Vex Xana 16.721, or Vex for short. Vex was the officer in charge of regulating the Widowmaker's engines. In addition to these responsibilities, which Vex performed flawlessly, Vex was the known informant of the Xana II shipyard that laid keel on the Widowmaker. An adept of the mysteries of the Dark Mechanicus, Vex had received neuro-loyalty engrams installed in his frontal lobe, along with an array of more visible implants. Captain Beshar knew of the implants and felt that Vex would serve in his position until the day Beshar decided to cross the Dark Mechanicus. Hopefully it would never come to that.

 

 

The Engineerium

 

 

 

 

The Dark Mechanicus rules the Engineerium decks nine levels below the Widowmaker's bridge. The bottommost deck is inhospitable to human life with searing temperatures and noxious fumes leaking out from the temperamental engines. Heavily augmented servitors and specialist protected by bulky environmental suits toil away at the behest of the Dark Magos in control of this vital region of the ship. The upper two decks of the enginerium are technically habitable, but occasional radiation leaks, unscheduled plasma venting, and other hazards make for the shortest life expectancy of crew stations on the ship.

 

Magos Ghana Xana 19.622 rules the engineerium from the control lectern in the bottommost deck. Ghana is an adherent of the Nullbind School of the Dark Mechanicus. This order, founded in the early 39th millennium frequently experiments with summoning daemons and binding them into complex arcane containment fields, only to siphon off the energy the daemon expends trying to escape. Magos Ghana found itself exiled from Xana II after one such experiment went horribly wrong and damaged the Avern Forge's primary generator. Rather than face the wrath of the Forge's Arch Magos, Ghana stowed away aboard the newly created Widowmaker. Once aboard, Ghana's superior knowledge of warp engines and power plants, along with ruthless use of a Martian relic plasma pistol, quickly saw the Magos become the Master of the Engineerium. Now that Ghana rules the Engineerium, its paranoia worsens daily. Ghana fears the daemons summoned over the years are seeking to revenge the captivity Ghana had forced upon them. Magos Ghana also fears the other subordinate Magos who aspire to replace it. The Master of the Engineerium had taken numerous precautions against his fears. Ghana has installed discreet surveillance systems covering almost all of the Enginerium as well as other key areas of the ship, including the bridge. Not trusting a subordinate for the task, Ghana had a vat grown secondary brain implanted within his armored chassis. This unusual organ was made to specifically monitor large numbers of vid feeds and is almost completely devoid of personality, almost. Unbeknownst to Ghana, the fragmentary personality was substantial enough for a daemon know as Frogrot to possess. Frogrot, a daemon with a personal grudge against Ghana, patiently waits for the opportunity to strike at his one time binder.

 

 

The Polis

 

 

In between the aft decks of the bridge and enginerium and the prow gun and lance decks lies the area of the ship known to the crew as the Polis. This area includes the ship's stores, fuel, and munitions, cargo decks for plunder, general quarters and common areas. The Polis is not unlike a port city, with its landing bays, warehouse districts, markets, and strip of seedy taverns and houses of ill repute. Generally speaking, the closer to the core of the ship, the better the living conditions of the Polis. This maybe a natural tendency on a warship, as the outermost areas of the hull are more likely to be damaged by enemy fire.

 

The Widowmaker is a Chaos warship, and no place onboard her is truly safe. Factional disputes simmer at a level consistent with gang warfare throughout the Polis. The factions of the Polis come in different varieties. The larger factions are formed from members born on the same home world, with Xana II and Hell's Holdfast being the largest two. These factions are called tribes. Religious factions, or sects, are generally smaller groups lead by a charismatic leader. Many of these sects operate like cults, with their teachings and dogma aimed at separating themselves from the non-believers, sometimes violently. The third type of factions are those formed by shifts at work stations. These factions are called crews and can range from small groups of a handful of crewman, such as the night-shift dorsal point defense gunners, to large groups of thousands of voidfarers and thralls, like day-shift top deck enginerium. It is not uncommon for a resident of the Polis to belong to a tribe, a sect, and a crew, all at the same time. Most residents, however, pick one faction to devote most of their allegiance to, because alliances and conflicts change in the Polis with frequency and ease, and individuals supporting both sides of a factional feud are the first killed.

 

The "mayor" of the Polis, is Lady Uputsi, a one time tribal warrior from the polar regions of Hell's Holdfast. She holds court in a palace at the center of the Polis, dressed in the regalia of a tribal queen, a cape of fur from the greater white bear and an elaborate headdress of gosbird feathers and antlers. There is nothing primitive about her weapons and reflactor field however. Lady Uputsi is responsible to Captain Beshar for a myriad of tasks. Her main role is to ensure that the unskilled thralls and moderately skilled voidfarers are working where they are most needed. Other tasks include administrating the Polis, forming damage control parties, and preparing the crew to both repel boarders and form boarding parties of their own. This last task is where Lady Uputsi gains her power. The Widowmaker is a pirate ship and almost all of the souls on board are armed to some degree, but where most thralls conceal crude shanks in their rags, and voidfarers slip primitive cutlasses into their belts, Lady Uputsi distributes shotguns and autopistols to her loyal followers, as well as retaining a core of professional warriors to lead boarding actions and keep the peace on the ship.

 

Like many aboard the Widowmaker, Lady Uputsi had conflicting loyalties. In her case the conflict was between her Captain and their liege lord, the infamous Lord Carrack, Scion of the Black Legion. As the chief officer in charge of the cargo holds, Lady Uputsi is required to determine how much plunder is to be given in tribute to Lord Carrack. Captain Beshar takes a most stringent, and tightfisted view of what should be given as tribute. However, Lord Carrack has been called The Slayer of Multitudes, and is not known for his tolerance of "accounting errors", or however else light tributes are excused. Therefore Lady Uputsi walks a fine line, knowing that if caught skimming from Lord Carrack, she may be scapegoated by her captain, but if her assessment of the tribute is to generous, Beshar may replace her. Then, there is always her personal profit to consider...

 

One well known renegade that resides in the Polis is Alposen Abashi, of the clans of Vaaska. This one time feral warrior from that deadly daemon world has risen above his humble beginnings. He now commands a squad of elite reavers that rival any Tempestus Scions. These reavers perform surgical strikes and boarding operations for Captain Beshar, or with his approval, the highest bidder. They are armed and armored with well made carapace armor and hellguns, as well as a variety of mission-specific weapons and equipment.

 

 

 

[sitnam]

Very interesting read, the forces of Lord Carrack sound interesting.

[Carrack]

New Chronicle for my New House

 

I have become accustomed to keeping a journal. For the last twenty odd years I have kept one, and even now, with the life I had lived a year ago in total and complete upheaval, I yearn to put ink to parchment before I lay my head onto my pillow. Even if that pillow is no longer Micorsian satin.

 

Now where to begin, I suppose a

digest of my previous journal is in order, particularly with my confessor, perhaps the Arbites or Inquisition, maybe even the Paternova in possession of my old journal. The thought of brief summary of my entire life up util my recent kidnapping and forced adoption by House Kaft, is surprisingly much easier to contemplate now, than I would have ever suspected a year ago. In all honesty, up until that point, I had experienced so very little in life.

 

I was born the third daughter of Botto Rossi, younger brother of Carmen Rossi, patriarch of House Rossi. The Navis gene was dominant and deemed strong upon my birth. I was dedicated to the Emperor as Tarabella Rossi and was pledged to Battlefleet Ultima promptly upon my matriculation from my house's academy. My days were filled with study of charts and endless lectures on the myriad techniques of guiding vessels through the Sea of Souls. Along with studying intricate genealogies, the heroics of prominent Rossi Navigators, and the House ties of allegiance and rivalry. These studies were punctuated with regular purity examinations conducted by House genesayers and my assigned Confessor. It was rumored by my sisters and cousins that our examinations were more frequent and intensive than those of other houses. They claimed to have heard that this scrutiny was ordered by the Paternova over six centuries ago. It was all very boring.

 

My nights were filled with the complex social dance of an unbetrothed nobilitite. There were, of course, the balls. Tedious affairs that required six to eight hours just to prepare and dress for while having to listen to the fawning prattle of the servants, only to arrive at a ballroom filled with sometimes thousands of potential suitors, that I could only stand the company of two or three. Slightly less onerous were the exclusive social clubs. These clubs, or the ones I attended, were frequented mostly by Navigators of the lesser houses and a few young Navigators slumming from the greater houses. I preferred the social clubs over the stuffy balls mainly because of the more intimate setting allowing for the possibility that someone would say something truly interesting, but also because I despised my dance instructor, that hag, and embarrassingly, it showed on the ballroom floor.

 

Sometimes there was a sense of adventure at the social clubs that was lacking in the rest of my regimented life of high expectations. One time a young scion, Stevas, who refused to divulge the name of his house to my friends, had gone down to the pilgrims lines before the Monument of St Lion El'Johnson and removed his head covering. He kept his third eye closed of course, but the panic scattered the pilgrims that had been waiting their turn for days, peasants.

 

It was the same Stevas who turned out to be the envoy of House Kaft. He slowly maneuvered me into an exposed position the way a predator would separate its prey from the herd. Late night forays to attend exclusive private blood sports and escapes to the lofty heights of 11th upspire narco bliss had me discretely escaping most of my personal staff. The promise of a romantic rendezvous had me slip the watch of my life guard. That is when he caught me. One heavy tranq laden amesac later, and I awoke in a locked cabin sailing the sea of souls.

I was kept in seclusion throughout the voyage, but a anxious, indeterminate time later a knock proceeded my door being opened. A well oiled, but blinded and scarred man entered my cabin flanked by two horribly ugly, and also blinded cyber mastiffs. He sat himself in the small parlor of my cabin and explained that I had been adopted into a navigator house I had never heard of, House Kaft. In spite of my ignorance of even the house name, he explained the pedigree of the house as to have pre existed the Imperium of Man. House Kaft had long standing ties with several elements of the Black Legion and Legio Vulcanum II, nightmares of Terra's past. House Kaft, he told me, had a strong Navis gene, but was isolated from other houses and was forced to "adopt" navigators from Imperial houses to prevent genetic stagnation. I was not alone in my abduction.

 

I was somewhat surprised by the first question to slip from my mouth, "When will I get to go home to Terra?" I honestly did not expect homesickness to be a pressing concern considering my shocking new circumstances. I was equally surprised by his answer, he said frankly, "You are a navigator, you will pilot a ship there." He then checked his data audio implant and added, "A warship."

 

Now enough preamble and let me finally get to starting my new chronicle. I am Tarabella Kaft of House Kaft. I am pledged to Lord Carrack of the Black Legion, and by extension, to The Despoiler of Worlds. I guide the Murder Class Cruiser, False Hope, through hell itself. Let the galaxy burn!