Loss, Love and Family

Somewhere to post stories, journals, and other fiction based on No Rest for the Wicked.

Loss, Love and Family

Postby Alliandra » Tue May 23, 2017 12:09 pm

Armour and supplies were all laid out on the bed and the tartan clad figure was going through them all carefully, checking that things were in order in a very single-minded nature. Everything needed to be ready before she headed into the Space Hulk, her people had stories about such places and they spoke of the danger.

A grin slowly spread across Sorcha’s face, she was quite looking forward to the challenges involved in what lay ahead. She started to pack the kit away, accidentally knocking her brown leather glove to the floor as she did so. For a moment she looks around to find the match and then she remembers and the memory punches her solidly in the gut.

Strong fingers stroked her cheek as she looked up at him, his dark hair falling over into his face and obscuring his blue eyes. They stood close together, not speaking for a long moment, knowing all too well that their time was short.

Sorcha pulls away briefly, digging into her belt and pulling out a brown leather glove before handing it to the man before her.

“Ye take this wi ye. Since I’ll no be fighting at yer side this once, at least there’ll be something of me along whilst yer away.”

He takes it with a wry smile, “Och I’ll no be gone that lang lass, ye’ll barely hae time tae miss me!”

She rolls her eyes at him and playfully punches him on one arm, “Aye, well watch yer back since I willnae be there tae dae it for ye.”

Now it is his turn to laugh, “Well, if memory serves me I tended to watch yer back more than the other way round, wi your tendency tae run intae trouble.”

A mischevious grin dances across her face, “I guess you may hae a point on that one.” She steps closer to him and pulls him in for a kiss, her arms wrapping him tight against her.

The sounds of footsteps approaching make them step back from each other and look over. Another Clansman stands waiting, “I’m sorry Captain, but we hae tae go now.”

Sorcha gives her man one last kiss before stepping back, nodding to the other Clansman. Her lover steps over to him and the two of them head off, with him looking back briefly to blow her a kiss before he disappears out of sight.


The pain hits her like a hammer, knocking the breath out of her body and she stumbles, going down on one knee. For a moment tears threaten to escape her as the cold realisation that the other glove will never return, because he never would. She forces her breathing back to normal, swallowing down the hurt that she feels, afraid to let it out in case it overwhelms her entirely.

Steadying herself, Sorcha pushes herself back up onto her feet and staggers a little over to a table and pours herself a drink, downing it in one easy motion before pouring another and doing the same.

After a moment she goes back to sorting her gear out, occupying herself to keep her mind off of memories. She opens up a pouch containing a number of different vials and other things, combat drugs for the most part. One of the vials is made of something else, the label marking it as Azrael. It’s not what is written that makes her drop it though, it’s who. The vial is one that Emrys gave her before his death.

She had not worried too much when he and some of the others from the Temple had headed off on a mission. Whilst the planet was certainly dangerous, the threat to them was not particularly high as far as she knew.

Then they had come back and told her that he had fallen, gone down in the dark and his body burned because they could not risk bringing him back. Rage had burned deep into her chest, she had gone into the night and screamed to the darkened skies. Waves of xenos scum had attacked them and she had carved through them, letting her anger carry her until they were no more.

Quiet words later, fears that what had killed Emrys was not the creatures but a more human adversary. One who was supposed to be on their side. The Navigators advised caution, wanting facts and also wanting to make sure that they could get off the hellhole of a planet and for that, for that everyone was needed.

Finally she sat across from him, her hands digging marks into the table as she listened to the blue-eyed monster across from her describe how he had choked Emrys to death with his own hands. Her blood boiled and her eyes rang. It took all her willpower not to leap the table and start opening his armour with her chainsword.


Sorcha started, overcome for a moment by the still too raw memories surrounding Emrys’ death. She had not loved him, they had not known each other long enough to have any idea if that would have ever been the case. He had given her some peace though, made her laugh and for some few moments, forget the pain.

Unlike Ruraidh’s death, Emrys’ did not evoke pain but rage. Even now her skin burned like a fire and she had to grit her teeth to combat the urge to smash everything around her. It wasn’t just that he had died, it was that he had died pointlessly and at the hands of a coward who should have been on his side. By a coward who was now being hailed by some as a hero and that suck in her craw.

She crossed to the table and poured herself another drink, pausing for a moment as she got distracted by the pict on display nearby. It had been taken at Ghost’s party and showed herself, Isaac and Epsilon. Isaac was smiling in an off-hand way, looking as though he was half-distracted by something else. Epsilon had an odd smile on her face, as though she was still trying to figure out what one was, which may well be true.

The sight of the pair of them made her grin to herself, her darker mood lifting somewhat. She had not expected to find family out here, but that is what the pair of them had become to her. Isaac had been abandoned and ignored by the person he had been sent to check on in one of the most hostile environments imaginable. She had given him a lift off of that hellhole and been impressed by his passion and resilience and now he had been adopted into the Clan and was her brother, someone she would protect.

Then there was Epsilon, who whilst not crew or family in quite the same way as Isaac was still important to her. She was so unsure about what and who she was, still struggling to find her way in life. Whatever path she chose, Sorcha just wanted to make sure that it was something she did choose, she deserved at least that much.

A cold realisation came over her, there would be many dangers ahead on a Space Hulk and the pair of them were her responsibility for it. Whatever else happened she was determined that she would do everything she could to ensure that they came out of this alive, whatever the cost she wasn’t going to lose anyone else she loved without a fight.
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Alliandra
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Sorcha of the Clan Ships
 
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