Wild Rider - Gav Thorpe by Warhammer 40K

Author:Warhammer 40K [40K, Warhammer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781780308838
Published: 2018-09-25T14:54:09+00:00

Chapter 15

ATTACK FROM THE HEAVENS

‘I assure you, this is not the first time I have flown into danger.’ Aradryan let some of his frustration seep into the Whisper so that Tzibilakhu could feel it. ‘I do not need this cloying attention.’

‘What a self-centred way of looking at the situation,’ replied the Commorraghan. ‘Consider that perhaps my decision was not about you. We will be carrying Yvraine to the surface.’

Aradryan and his appointed mentor ascended the spiral accessway that would take them to the piloting suite of the dawnsail drop-ship. He glanced along the sleek lines of the craft, acquainting himself with its dimensions and properties.

Its hull was black and crimson, the former colour seemingly streaked along the latter in broad strokes that gently undulated for the whole length of a vessel larger than most void-to-atmosphere craft he had piloted, in size more equivalent to a small starship than an aircraft. Its prow was reminiscent of a falcon’s head and breast, a glossy black dome where the cranium would be reflecting the ceiling of the berthing hangar. About a third of the way down its length the dawnsail broadened considerably, creating an internal space big enough to convey many warriors or even a pair of Wave Serpent transports. The extended hull flared into curving wings for the final third.

He could see the subtle articulations that would allow it to mimic the shape of a gliding bird once it reached sufficient atmospheric pressure to fly. The surface of the wing was covered in glittering feather-like protrusions, thousands of tiny facets that could be individually adjusted to capture the raw solar wind or the stellar energy reflected from a world’s upper atmospheric layers.

‘If you think I am not worthy of piloting alone, why bring me at all?’ Aradryan slid sideways into the slats of the piloting cradle that would hold him while in the void.

‘Have you ever flown a dawnsail before?’

‘No,’ replied Aradryan. ‘But I–’

‘And have you ever flown without spirit stones?’

The question took him aback, reminding him that this was not a craftworld vessel, that he was no longer one of the Alaitocii. He had become accustomed to the Whisper, mentally substituting its presence for the infinity circuit with which he was far more familiar.

Even so, it seemed a pointless question.

‘What difference would that make?’

Tzibilakhu slipped into the cradle behind him. It raised her towards the glassy dome of the dawnsail’s main canopy, though at present the material was opaque, displaying a slowly shifting montage of vistas – Aradryan recognised the hundred-domed Temple of Isha’s Sorrows from Alaitoc, and knew the sheer-sided peaks of Lugganath’s Heavenly Pinnacles from a brief stay during his time aboard the starship Lacontiran.

The embrace of his own couch-net tightened and drew him forward to the main controls and navigational displays. On instinct his hands moved to where he expected the spirit circuitry connectors, but his fingers found only smooth panel.

He knew some of the runes that identified projector crystals and interface gems, but there were gaps where other control systems were meant to be.

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