Turning Point -Warhammer 40k Fan Fiction

Chapter 9 - Passage

Three days had gone by since Joseph’s life changing events on Garius IV.  Now traveling through the Warp at some immeasurable speed, Joseph finally began to relax.  To him, the first forty-eight hours seemed the worst.  He jumped at every creak, and had formless, sweat inducing nightmares.  No one else in the crew seemed to exhibit any sign of fear, but Joseph guessed that at least a few of them had reservations about traversing the unnatural Warp.

         The entire human crew of the Isis gathered for the late meal on the second day of the voyage in a large area designated for dining.  A huge chunk of metal, most likely from a ship’s hull, had been re-made and polished to function as a table large enough to accommodate everyone.  Four servitors scurried about, serving the gathered crowd.

         Conversations around the room varied, from the topics of politics, to dogma, to news from some of the crew’s own home world and abroad.  Joseph sat quietly and listened, not feeling much in the frame of mind for talk.

         Even when Grace arrived it did little to break Joseph from his somber mood.  Although he definitely couldn’t help but notice when she entered the room, he had to force a smile.  She had tied her beautiful dark hair into a knot above her head, and chose a sleek and tight black outfit that accentuated her already stunning body.

         She immediately engaged the Captain in conversation, and Joseph never caught a hint of a special look or notice from her.  The Captain had tried in vain to incorporate Joseph in a few of the conversations, but gave up shortly thereafter.

         After eating a little and listening to the discussions for what he felt was a polite amount of time, Joseph excused himself and retired to his cabin.

         Something inside of him wanted to cry that night.  He wanted to cry for losing his best friend, for alienating himself from everything he had known, and for not knowing where he was headed.  No matter how much he hurt inside and the overall confusion threatened to overwhelm him, tears failed to fall from Joseph’s eyes.  Instead, he lay motionless on the bed, sleep not coming for many hours.

         After yet another fitful night of obscure dreams and strong emotions, Joseph felt curiously better when he awoke.  Finishing his shower, he grabbed the only extra outfit he had brought with him, and dressed quietly.  The buzzer next to the door suddenly broke him out of deep thought.  He reached over and pressed the button that would open the hatch.

         “Joseph, my boy, how are you doing?” the Captain said as he entered.  His voice was much too loud, and his bright clothes and cheerful demeanor seemed out of place.

         “Fine, Captain.  I feel a bit better.”

         “Much better than last night, I hope.”  Walking around and looking at the few things Joseph had scattered inside of the cabin, the Captain continued before he could answer.  “Anyways, I’m here to let you know that we have to make a short stop in our voyage.  There is a certain matter that has caught my attention and I would be a fool to ignore it.  I’m likely going to need some of your expertise when we reach port.”

         “So you’re expecting trouble?”  Joseph gauged the look on the Captain’s face carefully.

         “I don’t anticipate it, but there’s always room for error when dealing with these… highly sensitive matters.”  The Captain tried to put on a polite smile, but Joseph just sighed resignedly.

         “How much time until we arrive?”

         “You’ve got two hours to get yourself ready.  Oh, and do arm yourself, I’m afraid where we’re headed, it’s a bit of a rough place.”

         “Now why does that not surprise me?”  Turning around, Joseph found he was talking to himself.  Shrugging, he grabbed his holster belt and equipped it around his waist.  He picked up the stocky las-pistol and stared at it for a moment.  Looks like we’re going to see a lot more action before all of this is done, my friend he thought.  Holstering it, he left the room.  Sighing, he looked each way down the corridor to figure out which way the Captain had wandered off to.  Prepared to query the Captain for more information, he began to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable encounter ahead.





         She tipped back another shot of the unpleasantly strong firewater.  Becoming increasingly irritated from the glances and stares of the other patrons in the gloomy bar, she slammed the small glass onto the table hard enough that it cracked.  Several men nearby eyed the petite and slender woman who was making such a ruckus.  Some of the drunker ones began laughing and made no attempt to hide the fact that their collective attention was on her.

         Now she really began to grow angry inside.  She hated backwater, hole in the wall, small port bars like this, but inevitably found herself in them time and time again.  Sometimes her career choice really pushed her to the edge of losing it, and now happened to be one of those times.

         Two of the larger men from the drunken, laughing crowd decided to move closer.  She continued to slam down her other shots, seemingly heedless to their advance.

         “My, my, my… what do we have here Eras?  Looks like a pretty girl with no escort, “ the tall and very drunk man said.

         “That won’t do at all, will it Danter?  Can’t have pretty little things like this walking around dangerous areas alone, can we?”  She tensed as they moved closer.  The overwhelming stench of poor hygiene coupled with long hours of manual labor wafted her way.

         Pursing her lips together tightly, she grabbed the last full shot glass on the table and downed it instantly.  The taller man put his right hand on the table, leaning in to get close to her face.

         “I think she wants our help, Eras.  She needs protection, and uh… maybe a little company.”  The last part of his statement elicited laughter between the two inebriated men and from the group behind them watching.

         Setting the recently finished shot down, she slowly looked up at the two men standing over her.  Her lips formed a malicious grin.

         “Not your type, frag off.”  Her voice was low and her tone deadly even.

         “Oh c’mon now honey, I think I’m just your type.  In fact, I think there’s a few of us here who fit that bill tonight.”  He reached out and brushed his left hand through her dark red hair.  She let him finish, and gave him a little smile.  The tall, intoxicated man smiled big in return and turned to exchange a look with his friend.

         Without sound or warning, her left arm swung to the outside of her body, knocking the leaning man’s right arm out from under him.  No longer able to support his weight, he fell helplessly down to the table.  A loud pop echoed through the dingy bar as his chin met the edge of the hard oak table.  In an almost comical fashion, the man collapsed to the floor in an unconscious heap.

         “D..Danter?” the drunken man stuttered as he watched the dark pool of blood form around the comatose man on the floor.  Anger building visibly on the man’s face, he looked up to find her already standing a few feet away.  Shouts of alarm rang out behind him.

         “I told you to frag off!”  Raising her voice so the others behind him could hear, she finished off her statement with a lighting quick side-kick to the man’s midsection.  Not able to react quickly enough, the man took the full force of the blow and fell bunched up onto the floor.

         “Get that bitch!” exclaimed someone from the crowd by the main bar.
 
         Several men from the jeering host behind pushed a few bystanders aside to confront the off-world woman.  Three of them broke out and circled to surround the smiling lady.

         “These two were foolish enough to push the issue, you don’t want to force it,” she warned the man directly in front of her.  The man gave her a puzzled look as he glanced at her up and down, as if wordlessly pointing out the vast difference in size between them.  He towered over her, falling just short of seven feet tall, while her petite and athletic body only stood at a modest five-eight.

         “You never should have walked into this bar, little woman.  Time for a well needed lesson,” his deep voice boomed.

         She nimbly swept forward as two men simultaneously attacked from her left and right.  The grinning man in front reached out to grab her, only to find that she had already spun around to his flank in the blink of an eye.  His grin turned to a grimace as a metal chair crashed against his back, bringing the big man to his knees.  A quick kick to the side of his head promptly dispatched him from the fight.  The remaining men rushed forward blindly, rage in their eyes.

         “Is this the best Dantrias can offer?” she taunted the locals.

         Dodging a few more of the men’s clumsy blows, she began to grow tired of the encounter.  She had thought that a fight with the locals would help bring her spirits up, but she felt no different and knew that the men in the bar failed to provide a real challenge.  Sighing, she broke an attacker’s arm, and floored the other with a closed-palm strike to the face.  She became aware that the crowd around her began to back away, and knew that at least one of their comrades was about to escalate the situation further.

         “Wrong move, whore…” a man shouted from behind her.  He held up a small pistol and aimed for her head.

         Without hesitation, she grabbed a glass from the table next to her and threw herself to the ground, rolling towards him.  Beer spilling everywhere, she broke the glass mid-roll.  Before the man could track her for a clean shot, she was already rising to stand directly in front of him.  A strange warmth began to trickle down his chest.  Alarmingly, he realized that the broken glass in her right hand had blood on it.  Dropping the pistol, he grabbed at his neck to find a steady flow of his life blood oozing out.  He tried to scream, but only a gurgling sound could escape his throat.  He began to shake violently as his body went into shock.  Falling to the floor, he died only a few moments later, wondering how he could have let such a small, pretty woman kill him.

         Sighing deeply for the second time, she dropped the blood smeared glass in her hand, and turned to gaze at the crowd.

         “Anyone else here think that I should be taught a lesson?”  Waiting a few moments for effect, she grunted and shook her head.  “I didn’t think so.”

         Returning to her table, she lifted the overturned chair and sat back down.  Waving for the barkeep to send her more drinks, she watched the patrons reluctantly return to their individual conversations.  The injured men around her needed help from their friends getting to their feet, scurrying off to nurse their wounds elsewhere.  Two of them had to be carried away by several others. 

         Trying to staunch the flow of blood from a broken nose, a single opponent glared at her as he left.  Taking the pro-offered drink from the grinning waitress, she smiled back and enjoyed the look of hatred and utter defeat in the victim’s eyes.

         The lack of local peacemakers on this side of town meant that any injuries or deaths from altercations went unreported.  This left the owners of the establishments in the district sole responsibility for cleaning up the messes.  Of course, she had known that fact all along, which was the main reason she chose this area to buy her drinks.  A slovenly obese man angrily stormed out from the kitchen area, cleaning supplies in hand.  Surveying the damage, she didn’t feel too badly for him.  It could have been much worse.

         A chirp sounded from the vox unit on her belt.  She inserted her small ear-piece into her right ear, depressing the button to open the transmission.  “Tam here, speak.”

         “Tam, it’s Merrin.  We’ve got a shot at an Imperial contract, high level.  If you’re up to it, there’s a briefing at the Lord Governor’s Imperial estate at 0700 local time tomorrow,” the male voice explained over the comm link.  The prospect of a top tiered Imperial contract immediately caught her attention.

         “Acknowledged, Merrin.  Inform the handler that I will be there.  Tam out.”

         Finishing the remainder of her ale, bounty hunter Arinna Tam stood up and threw a few imperial coins on the table.  Remembering the recent confrontation, she hesitantly threw down two more.  Walking towards the exit, she caught a few nervous glances cast her way.  Suppressing a smile, she left the bar.