Little bit of the background I wrote for my upcoming RT game.
++ Loss of the Omnissiah’s Gaze as told by Technographer Kerberos Lunn
++ Adept Jorgen17 transcribing, 6173807.M41
The Omnissiah’s Gaze, ship of my birth, exists no longer. It now roams the void as but a memory, empty of the glory it once knew. Its death occurred a little over one year ago, and I am the only living soul who can claim to have experienced it first hand.
I suppose I should start at the beginning, yes?
The Explorator fleet was on return from the Kronos Expanse, having spent a good part of two years within its uncharted space. Several of our ships had been damaged, but overall the fleet was in good shape. Some of our members had elected to remain within the Expanse, either aboard Thulian research stations -- or as corpses. Clutch of the Omnissiah, Aegis of Mars, Divine Sight, Omnissiah’s Gaze and the Light of Knowledge all charted stable warp routes from Port Wander on return to the Calixis Sector.
Two years prior I had become an apprentice under Enginseer Dolimont. It was to my parents pride that I was selected to learn under such a respected member of the Mechanicus. Per his instruction I was attending the machine spirit of an old guncutter when the event that would change my life happened.
We had been travelling the warp for several days without incident when the Omnissiah’s Gaze was brutally forced out of the warp. Reports began to circulate that the spirit of our warp drive was angry. I suppose it is a testament to its construction that the ship even held together though that. We were not in the clear however, as we had been dropped not only too close to a star system, but directly into a particle cloud. I fear that my flesh has failed me in the exact memory of events. All I know is several of us abandoned ship upon that ancient guncutter.
It is a unique experience I suppose to watch all that you have ever known consumed by plasma. I suspect we were the first ship out, since we could watch through the view-ports as others were caught in the final death of my home. We stood affixed to the glass as the debris tore through space without us. Lexmechanic Terasova, Mech-Wright Atmore, and Technographer Celine Nu were with me in the ship. We saw two other escape ships had made it clear, but were limping poorly along. Our limited augers systems detected what appeared to be a hospitable plant, though small, within the system so we headed there with the other two behind us.
The planet proved to be hospitable, at least of the most basic kind. The atmosphere, however, was quite violent and though we were able to land successfully, it was not without damage. The other two were not as lucky. The fireballs they created were a stark contrast to the grey skies of our temporary home.
Atmore did not survive the crash. He was buried close to our landing site. Our guncutter would not fly again without repair and we were lacking all but the most basic equipment. Our rebreather units were able to purify the air enough for us to travel freely. The planetoid was dark, with rough terrain and angry skies. In my entire time there I saw no other sentient creatures save for us. We were able to determine the rough location of the other guncutters and hoped to find survivors-- or at least supplies-- among the crash sites. The three of us set off taking what weapons we had and few provisions. We found no survivors, but were able to recover some supplies and more importantly, a backup power generator.
We worked to restore vox capabilities. Initially, we transmitted our distress call several times a day. As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, we lowered our frequency to but a single time a day. Conservation and preservation was all we could think of at the time. There were natural predators of sorts, winged creatures with sharp claws which provided enough sustenance when combined with the meager flora of the planet. Three months after we were stranded, Terasova had a horrible fall which cost him his life. We buried him in his robes alongside the grave of Mech-Wright Atmore.
For a time it was just myself and Celine Nu. She proved to be most interesting and we spent the little time we had not scrounging for survival engaged in conversation. Eventually we both fell victim to the weakness of flesh and found other ways to pass the time. It was one reason why it was so hard to cope when her potentia coil started to fail. She lasted a full five weeks afterward before her flesh could no longer handle the poison caused by the failing unit. I buried next to the others. I retained a small keepsake to honor her memory.
Months passed with the machine spirit of the guncutter as my only friend. I was forced to turn to the recovered backup power supply to keep the vox unit in working order. I will be honest: I expected to die on that planet. Everything had been taken from me at this point. My future, my family, my birthplace, my purpose. One year and five days after crashing upon that lonely planet my distress call was answered. A Imperial Navy vessel, the Spear of Thunder, was within the system an happened upon it. I know now that I was never without the light of the Omnissiah.
At first the recovery team wanted to leave the damaged hull of the guncutter. I know not how I finally convinced them otherwise, but I could not leave the machine spirit of that ship alone on that planet. It had seen me through so much.
I trust that its being well cared for, yes? I hope to personally lead the rituals to return it to service -- payment for all it has given me.