Not sure how I'll feel about sharing my 40k fanfiction but...here's a go of it. Ava my Oc Rogue Trader, with her heir Quin when the Cicatrix splits. Featuring a few of my partners OCs.
Warning for child engagement but he's fine has a wicked Psyker headache though
The warp had been tumultuous for an age or more, and only growing worse. Each day the Astronomican grew darker according to despairing Navigators, the flickering lights of ships going dark in the warp.
The calls for rescue proved the claim, ships exiting the warp torn asunder, or thought lost for years suddenly reappearing. Ava's protectorate felt the toll, so many fractured fleets hanging in orbit around Laeran seeking repairs, solace, a moment to breathe.
Each swell of the warp, each howling ripping snare of reality was a siren wail to station. To stand ready for more lost souls capsized by the storms.
And oh, did the warp howl.
Today, though, the Warp screamed.
Quin's unearthly shriek set every hair on Ava's body on end. She heard him across the promenade and was moving before the first bow shock of the galaxy splitting rocked the station. Her guard detail was left standing in shock as every Psyker on the station crumpled, flared, or self immolated.
The Rogue Trader was blind to all of it the suffering of the people on the capital station of her protectorate? Unimportant in the wake of the shrieking of her son. Shrieks so violent that she can hear them within her own mind, feel them in her skin bones and throat as if they were her own.
See them. See Quin, where he huddles, clutching at his head in a blue green darkness.
Ava's head shakes, her remaining human eye blinking away the powerful vision. Another few strides and her footfalls falter under the second bow shock to rock the station. At first, she’s there, midway across the marbled promenade, and the next moment she's twenty meters ahead, skipped across the distance and staggering under her own momentum and shock.
A heavy, black gauntlet catches her arm and keeps her from meeting the ground she walks upon. Furis. Her head snaps up towards the Black Templar Inquisitor.
"Quin-"
"I hear him. Go. I will find the Blank."
Mahktat. Yes, where was she? Ava snarls and Furis shoves her off, giving her the momentum offered by his inhuman strength to propel herself onwards. Everything around the station feels unsteady, unreal, the floor doubled, the ceiling higher than it should be. Distorted, disoriented, the halls twisted and changed by the warp sundering. Ava navigates them assisted by otherworldly guidance, her whole being nauseatingly war skipped past obstacles and hallway collapses, skipped down levels as the psychic howl grows more desperate in her mind and soul.
She's down where only sump rats live now, where she lets the Space Wolves hunt when they dock at the station to stretch their restless legs. Places she has never been and never planned to go. How Quin got down here will be a mystery for another day, but she can only assume it's the damnable warp's doing.
