Thread: Noblesse Obligé [Ghostwolf and Thaedael]

RE Noblesse Oblig Home, we are finally going home... the voice could be barely heard over the whine of the engines, the intercom system crackling from the words of the pilot as he broke protocol and chattered to the crewman that sat in tandem behind him in the plexglax dome. The ship rocked a few more times, waking some of the passengers, those who were trained through decades of bloody service to the Emperor, those who learned to sleep at any given time that was presented to them, in any given place. The engines continued to whine, the humming reaching a louder pitch as the small atmospheric shuttle corrected it's course to fly into a ceremonial formation. All about them the structural interior of the ship groaned, the sound of stressed metal echoing around the interior passenger hold as it performed another quick correction to it's path. From the pilot's cockpit, light crept into the dark hold, washing out the dim red lighting that illuminated the interior, each of the red lights fading out from above the passenger's respective harnesses. Another maneuver, the ship jolting from side to side, before it finally entered the formation, rounding out the left-most tip of the flight wing. The last of the sleeping passengers groaned, waking to the sounds of their comrades shifting about against the harnesses that had held them uncomfortably so. The last leg of the journey was finally drawing to a close. Sir? the voice was drowned out from the hive of activity that the other passengers were making. Some of them already unhooked the harnesses, the sound of spring loaded equipment shifting up and over their heads to click against the rusty metallic walls behind them. Sir...? the voice was a little bit louder, hesitant and unsure of what to do. Above their heads were the storage compartments of their equipment, the metal chain-linked bins rattling as the equipment shifted along the insides of them. From either side of these holds, lights begun to flicker, stark, white, sterile light. The long panels that lined either sides of the storage compartments flickered once more, a large clicking sound being heard as some of the energy from the twin turbines of the lander transferred into the lighting sub system, before finally reaching stability and allowing the lights to function. Good morning fine gentlemen of the Emperor... the internal intercom system crackled to life as the pilot spoke directly to them from all four walls of the cramped interior, the sound amplified. This is your pilot speaking..., the pilot's voice was cut off by the crewman that sat behind him. Give it a break Jace, they know who you are, let them prepare in peace. A light chuckle broke out across the interior of the hold, before the pilot once more cleared his throat. On behalf of the Emperor Protects' shuttle service, we would like to welcome you to Vorlancia-, the compartment erupted into hollers and shouts of joy. Settle down, folks. he laughed, the intercom crackling as it tried to carry his voice over. We are looking at another fine day here on Vorlancia, the temperature is a warm twenty-five degrees with a humidity of eight-five percent! The first of the veterans were already on their feet, bracing themselves against unfolded seats with their legs, and holding on to the hand-loops above, most of them already looking through the now exposed windows. The armor plating of the windows finally locked into the open position, drowning the interior with natural lighting. No shit, it's humid, spoke one of the grizzled vets, looking at the beads of precipitation forming between the two layers of the armored window. To their right, along the far horizon was the reflective sheen of the other six Aquilae they had entered the atmosphere with, the planet's fair sun casting an angelic halo of a reflection on the newly refurbished crafts. They were still pock-marked full of damage where rounds had landed against them un-detonated, scrapes and scratches were still visible against every leading edge of the craft. They were worn down, beaten, battered, only to receive a new lease on life, new paint jobs, a new opportunity to be used for something more. Much like the passengers that now looked out their very windows. Look at that beautiful ocean below the crewman sitting in the dome said, his face pressed against the glass of the observation dome, the cool material against his face. Didn't think I would ever live to see it again. he said with a bit of a chuckle, before choking up, tears welling in his eyes. You can say that again another of the veterans responded in kind. The pilot spoke once more, It looks like a smooth ride from here folks, the weather radar on the lead shuttle has indicated that there is a gentle afternoon breeze, and that there is some cloud cover. Take the time to stretch your legs and enjoy The sound of the intercom died out with a crackle, the light shifting from a bright green to a dark red, the hue staining the purity seals with an unsettling red that was all too reminiscent of blood. Sir? again the voice spoke. Just man up and tap the sleeping geezer already another spoke to him. I don't... he started again. Look, you made it this far in the service to the Imperium, fought through countless decades of bloody wars, fought things people don't even know existed. It's not like the man is going to kill you. the voice grew louder as it drew closer to the man they were talking about. You know, just stand back, let me do this... some fearless chump you turned out to be. Bright light flooded through the sleeping man's eyes, the glare of the sunlight reflecting form the wing across from where the man slept in his harness, his brain kicking into gear at the sudden disturbance. He heard the sound of metal moving, pressing down on something, before he released his hand. The man across from him looked at him in shock, a red mark in the shape of a hand print forming along the forearm he now rubbed with his right hand. Sir... we are finally home. The day came, it's finally true. We are home... he continued to rub at the redness of his forearm, before turning to walk to a younger guardsman standing next to him, the owner of the timid voice. Come on Vince, he takes a bit of time to kick-start when he hasn't had a good night's rest in weeks. he wrapped his arm around the carapace clad shoulder of the younger man, before making their way to the front of the shuttle. The recently awoken man blinked a few more times, the pupils adjusting to the bright light of the interior, the glare of the sun bouncing off all the rusty metallic surfaces. His still outstretched hand left hanging open, before closing once more with a test movement. From it's position in the carapace clad armor across his arm, it looked normal. It moved, acted, and articulated like any other arm, but it was not his arm. He balled his fist once more, before letting his arm drop to the harness that slung around his neck, before moving it to the stowed position. With all the strength in his one good arm, he lifted himself up and out of the chair, the spring loaded seat snapping against the wall as he stumbled into a standing position, every joint cracking and protesting in movements. All around him his men turned, looking at him, and snapping into standing positions, saluting him, a Hero of the Imperium. For all it was worth, it was a fancy title that described every single man and woman in the cramped compartment, all but himself. He had the fortune to lead these people, to survive because of these people. His people. All because of some minor action, in some major war, in some Emperor-forsaken part of the Imperium, all because of that... they were free to go home. Those that he passed as he shuffled towards the front of the shuttle turned, holding the salute as he passed, before he came upon Vince, and Jordan. Hearing the sound of the ceramite reinforced boots of the Hero of the Imperium, Jordan and Vince both turned, snapping to attention and saluting him, Jordan's arm still bearing the red marks of their encounter. Sir! they both said in tandem, before being returned a salute. You can call me by my name, Jordan. You have known me long enough. It's a formality Ilya, you know that. So long as you are in your formal regalia, and all honors presented, we must refer to you as such, especially now that you are a Hero of the Imperium. The nobles will not be so kind as to overlook our lack of formality when deferring to you. he said. Ilya shook his head from side to side, before turning to look at the men and women gathered on either side of the aisle in the passenger hold, each of them looking at him with intent and pride, each still at attention and holding a salute to him. He returned it with his right hand, before talking. At ease. his voice carried conviction, charisma, and a small trace of the indomitable will that had allowed him to live through the thick and thin of every battlefield, of every blood soak meter on every countless world he had to fight upon. All around him they stirred, taking a more relaxed pose. The faces continued to look at him, some smiling eagerly waiting to listen to his words, other's tired and weary from the long journey to return home, and others just relieved to be in the sky above their home planet. I know that I have the power to command you from here on out, regardless of what post I may hold upon returning home. Home to Vorlancia he savored the name of his home world, the word transcending just the basic name of his planet, this blue paradise given form. However, I have no intention of doing this. You have served under my command well. You have served with distinction, and turned the lot of you into heroes. I may have been bestowed the formal title, but each and every one of you are the true heroes of this world. Many of you will go on to teach, others of you will move on to get your own commands. In every which way we choose to part from one another, you will each go on to accomplish more under the watch of the Emperor. My final commands to you, as your senior, are to have a good time tonight, and always hold your head up. You have earned the right to answer to no one, and to enjoy your second lease on life. He looked once more at the assembled lot, a small fraction of what was left when he left the world all those decades ago. These assembled men and women, and those in adjoining shuttles to their right... As you were he said, before turning to Jordan behind him. He walked up to him before resting an arm on his shoulder. Sorry about your arm... he said under a hushed tone, so that only the two of them could hear him above the roar of the engine. I am still getting used to the replacement bionic, they got rid of the old one saying that a hero should look the part, whatever the hell that means to them. He rubbed his real hand across the crook of his shoulder, before patting him and walking into the crew compartment of the ship, ducking below the bulkhead that separated them from the passengers. Jace, he said with a nod of his head. Yes, sir? he responded in kind. Are you sure I can't convince you to join us in retirement? he leaned against the raised component that fed up into the observing dome, looking over the pilot's back through the window of the cockpit, enjoying the view of the spire off on the horizon, a beacon of white light against the blues of the ocean. You know I can't sir. Not everyone in my unit was fortunate to be extended the privilege of retirement. It seems the Imperial Navy was hard pressed to just offer it to Scott and I The needy bastards that lot is Scott said from the dome, before slipping down from the high seat situated in the observation area. What about you Scott? Ilya said in kind, looking at the grizzled Imperial Navy veteran. I can't, you see... I met this dame that flies one of them lightnings. Her and I have been hitting it off pretty good as of late and it looks like true love. I can't just go and give up on it he chuckled. Always the hopeless romantic, I don't think I will ever learn to love a woman like you do Ilya said with a smile. The two crewmen both laughed at the comment. Imagine that, Sir Ilya Garin, Hero of the Imperium, scourge of all Heretics, settling down and finding love. Jace said. The kind of woman you would fall in love with would surely be more terrifying than the kind of orders you have given us under the threat of death I am sure. Again a short laughter, this time joined in by Ilya, Just like you guys, I can't see it myself. Thanks for all the years of piloting our Valkyrie guys. Take care of the old girl when you get back, and go with the Emperor's grace He made the sign of the Aquila over his brass chest plate, before it being returned by Scott, who then moved forward to hug the man. Both Ilya's arms were left hanging to the sides, before he returned the gesture. I am going to miss you too. Take care of yourself Ilya said. He turned to face the pilot who was still strapped to his chair, piloting the vehicle on the final approach. I am going to miss your shuttle-line impersonations too you know he said to Jace, placing a hand on his shoulder. They stood like that for a bit, before reality came back to them. There is the spire ahead, we will be there in ten minutes or so. He looked through the cockpit at the spire ahead, before the gleaming sun shone off the the tallest of the spires, causing his reflection to be intensified in the glass. There was Jace, tears welling in his face, his emotions plain to see. Then there was himself, a hollow shell of himself when he had left the planet all those years ago. Upon his head he wore a ceremonial cap, a high peaked cap of blue fabric with a black accent. Out from under this was his sandy blond hair, unruly and wavy from being left to grow out for the first time in nearly a decade. Framed by his hair on either side were high-set cheek bones, with eyes set in ghostly blues, a scar running along the line of one, tracing its way down his cheek and across his lips. As ghastly as it seemed, the wound did little to the eye, retaining all it's utility to himself. The stubble across his face grew in, luckily hiding much of the scar, and giving him the appearance of the grizzled vets that he studied about back at the academy. A small smirk came across his face as he studied himself in the reflection. He looked every bit the part of a hero he learned about, and felt just as empty as most had looked to. Upon his collar that protruded out from under his highly polished carapace armor were the golden aquilae he had earned, which he had thumbed over with his good hand, the one that still felt. Yes, a hero indeed, clad in carapace armor of a storm trooper over fatigues of faded blues and grays. You better get ready sir, we are going to land Jace begun to spoke into the intercom, before preparing to do the once-over fly by of the crowds that begun to materialize like ants across the upper-most plateau of the spire. They had all gotten seated once more, their bodies rattling against the harnesses where the metal arms clanked against their armor, the rest of the gathered troops clad in full Regalia for the event. The craft shook once more, as they performed one more fly by, before the sinking feeling formed at the pit of Ilya stomach from the sudden descent from the sky, before softly landing against the landing pad. Thank you for choosing the Emperor Protects shuttle service. For those of you returning home, the pilot and crewman would like to welcome you home. Please gather the last of your belongings if you ever wish to see them again. Please consider using our services once again, and recommending them to your friends and fellows, all for the low, low price of enlisting in the Emperor's service. Once more the room chuckled as the circulation system cut, and the lights powered down. The constant whining of engines finally died down, and everything became much sharper to the ear in the absence of their sound. In all seriousness, it was a pleasure to have served along you guys. Have fun at the party, and be sure to down a few drinks for me. Jace said, almost crying now that his duties were finally done and his attention no longer taken by piloting the craft. Around them the sounds of the other crafts landing signaled the start of the band to begin playing, their instruments could be heard through the metal coffin of the passenger hold. Finally, the seals broke, and the cabin depressurized, before the landing ramp unlocked, slamming into the landing pad to herald their arrival. A wash of hot air, a mid-day's breeze, and the smell of salt drowned out the cool interior that smelt worse than a grox farm. The Emperor protects was all that Scott managed, before the gathered soldiers left out from under the rear of the shuttle, the sun blinding them and the drowning sound of the crowds erupted into adulation.