The Chronicles of Tuco Part 2

Well my friends, where has old Tuco been since last we met? Heh heh, into the gates of Hell and back, that’s where! And at last with a pretty penny to show for it! The crew of the Vengance have been up to their midriffs wading through the blood of our enemies. Those that were corrupted by the Whisperer have paid dearly for their betrayal. We began with the liberation of Silence, a moon inhabited by artists employed by old man Varrick to proclaim the glory of the House. If there’s one group of people that Tuco doesn’t trust it’s artists. Well, artists and priests, they’re pretty much one and the same. Too lazy to work, too frightened to steal. If a man can’t earn a living through making something useful like a weapon of war, or through honest thievery, then he’s not of much use to his comrades is he? Paintings? Statues? Ha! Well, we soon showed them our appreciation of their art. They animated the statues they’d made to rise up and kill us. Clearly no stomach for a fight themselves. We left only rubble.

Once we’d returned Silence to a state worthy of its name we left for Cog, the system’s forge world with its colossal moving city. As readers of these chronicles well know, being men of peace we tried reasoning with the rebels first. As Tuco always says, be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. But sadly this was to no avail. They met our generous offer of unconditional surrender, fair trials and quick executions with vicious anti aircraft fire. Taking the ships in at this stage would have proved unwise, so we assaulted the city with drop pods. Not my favourite way to travel, that express elevator to Hell feeling that you get on the way in always disagrees with my delicate digestive processes (coping with a belly full of rot gut whisky, a couple of raw eggs and a dash of Tabasco), so old Tuco didn’t arrive in the best of moods. We brought a multi-melta along for the ride though, which went a long way to reviving my sagging spirits. I learned to use one of those fire breathing dragons fighting Orks in the Black Reach campaign. Of course, the marines took all the credit for that ‘glorious victory’, they always do. They couldn’t have pulled it off without walking over the corpses of lot of mercenaries when they first made planet fall though, let me tell you. We held the Ghospora Hives against Zanzag’s hordes for more than two months before those brave Boys in Blue arrived. No terminator armour or dreadnoughts to keep us out of harm’s way, just raw guts and the promise of a pay cheque if we made it through.

Anyway, I digress, where was I? Oh yes, multi-meltas. I tell you my friends, there’s nothing like the smell of burning rebels in the morning to warm the cockles of your heart. It smells like victory. We soon silenced the anti aircraft batteries, were able to bring in more reinforcements via shuttle craft and cleared a path to the city’s central control room. We found that the chief engineer had avoided the taint of corruption and was able to help us secure the rest of the complex. When I suggested shooting him in the back of the head, just to be on the safe side mind, young Darius gave me a stern warning. I tell you that boy is too trusting. One of these days his sense of ethics and fair play is going to get us into real trouble.

With Cog pacified we decided to retake the refining station orbiting the system’s gas giant, Installation 23. On the way there we got into a scrape with a group of angry void wasps. To be honest, I’ve never really thought of the Vengeance as anything other than a tramp steamer, like a hundred others I’ve bunked on. Let me tell you though my friends, this old bitch has teeth! Heh, heh, those void wasps were swotted double quick time! The tainted ones had moved the station to a new orbit but that didn’t stop us finding her soon enough. We had trouble boarding her and the Vengeance took a beating bringing us in but she’s got a thick hide as well as a mean attitude. Once on the station we made short work of isolating the majority of the crew in their habitation quarters. Thank the Emperor! There were a hundred thousand or more of the bastards and bolt pistol ammo doesn’t come cheap in these difficult times!

We encountered some serious resistance on the way to the central control room in the form of rebels with a heavy stubbers, assault rifles and shotguns. I did a job a while back for an old acquaintance and picked up a decent las pistol for my troubles. Well, Tuco’s quick draw of choice has always been a bolt pistol in the past (hard to those beat high explosive, armour piercing rounds) but I can certainly see the attraction of speed and accuracy when someone is sat behind an armoured shield blasting away at you with a heavy stubber. I burned that man’s eyes clean out of his head with my first shot. Say hello to my little friend! Mind you young Darius has a plasma pistol and those things certainly aren’t to be argued with.

We finally made it to the central control room to find some freakish mutation posing as old man Varrick. I thought the boy might lose his nerve under the strain of it but no, he cut that filthy creature down where it stood. That set the cat among the pigeons, let Tuco tell you! The loss of Installation 23 finally drew the beast from its pit to confront us. And what a beast! The monster was the size of a starship! A huge, writhing mass of tentacles and hatred bent on the subjugation and destruction of mankind. It came screaming out of the center of that gas giant with the intent of killing us all. However, it found Tuco waiting in command of a half dozen macro batteries. Its corpse is spread through half the system. Thank the Emperor; we’ve finally made some money off of this job! The death of the creature has allowed us to fully retake the system and begin to get the factories, refineries and dockyards running again. Money, money money! In the wake of the battle Darius also made me Chief Bosun on the Vengeance. I’ve never had it so good! Old Tuco might not die a penniless peon after all!

The Journal of Nathanius Scaurus, first entry

The dreams are back.

I realize that there are members of the Ecclesiarchy that would do all sorts of unscrupulous things for "evidence" such as this, however I feel that refraining from discussing this somewhere would be more dangerous for my stability.

It seems that every few weeks now, I'm having visions - or is it memories? - coming to me in my sleep. The things I see… If I had eyes, I might have clawed them out long ago. The subject of these dreams is never the same, sometimes it may be a crew member, an old memory of a previous mission, or some such triviality. My memories play out as I remember. Until they change.

This evening for example.  I was reflecting on a recent mission to reclaim one of the moons in our Lord Captain's system.  A factory of some sort used to operate on it before production ceased and the "Whisperers" began to infiltrate.

On our first attempt to land, the crew of the gun cutter consisted of me, the Lord Captain, and the Arch Militant (Note - I must discuss with the Captain the wisdom of having an intellectually and emotionally crippled bandit as the combat specialist) along with some minor ranking crew members.  Soon after entering the atmosphere (if you can call that corrosive murk atmosphere), we were reminded that we were not welcome by a battery of AA fire, which nearly took us to pieces. Luckily thanks to some clever piloting, we made it back to the ship in one piece, and Tuco and Lord Darius decided on a much more…..definitive approach.

Once the smoke had cleared and the crew had the factory mostly under control, it was my turn to find out why these Whisperers had been so adverse to our presence. 

We took a prisoner - Phlyzik I think it was - for me to interrogate.  Thankfully Lord Darius was there to keep Tuco on his leash, and allowed me time alone. 

For the most part, the interview went uneventfully.  Phlyzik wasn't being very forthcoming and was (rightly) scared witless.  It didn't take long before I had the chance to probe his mind for all its secrets.  

It is this that worries me of late. What was in the past, a useful tool, and one that I enjoyed honing, has more recently become something to look forward to.  When I peel back the layers in his mind and feel him silently scream, it triggers something, a memory of the Warp… 

This needs further research, but my theory is that the raw terror and hate that subjects project during the process in some way harmonizes (For lack of a better word) with the Warp. This would not be an issue, however due to my…experience… I find myself eagerly awaiting the next foray into someone's mind. 

It is here that my memories change. Instead of peeling Phlyzik's mind away to show me his innermost thoughts and fears, I actually push. From there, this…drone's mind shatters completely and he offers to do my bidding. It's so simple. I could do this almost without trying. I could have an army of Phlyziks, empty husks with which I could complete any end. My research, it could be taken to new heights, using never before attempted trials on puppets. I could overrun the Vengence, take it deep into the Warp, and stay there, in the torment and the ecstasy until I see fit to return. And more…

This all runs through my mind in mere seconds, before I wake with a start. But what I find most alarming about these visions, is my reaction to the realization that they are just dreams.

I am disappointed.

The Chronicles of Tuco Part 1

Some say I’m a violent man, a very violent man. I disagree. However, there are two kinds of people in this Galaxy my friends, those with a loaded pistol and those who better do what they’re damn well told! Well now, you can bet your last dollar that Tuco is a man that always carries a loaded pistol! I’ve spent many years eking out a living across the Koronus Expanse and you can trust your old friend Tuco, he’s had to learn a few hard lessons. I certainly know that a kind word and a gun will get you a lot further than just a kind word. Bank robber, pirate, gun runner, prize fighter, mercenary, bounty killer and body guard, I’ve been them all in my time. I’ve never killed a man unless I’ve had to but death is my business and I have to admit that business has been brisk. A man with talents like mine can always pay for a meal, a drink, a bed and a woman to warm it for me.       

I was born on Luther Mcintyre, a world so deadly that even the gods of chaos would want to travel in pairs when paying a visit. There were only two ways to get off that hell hole, either to become a bandit or a priest. My brother Pablo, he went in to the Adeptus Ministorum. He was always the studious one, the big reader. Where’s he now? Hell, I don’t know I haven’t seen him for twenty years. I bet he’s in line to be the next the Ecclesiarch or something. Just imagine that, Tuco Ramirez’s brother the Ecclesiarch! Heh heh, He always was a big reader. I bet he wouldn’t give an audience to Tuco though. No, too embarrassed to see his own brother now he’s got his new, fancy friends. Dirty Tuco with his guns and his scars and his outstanding arrest warrants. He became a priest because he was too much of a coward to do what I do! Tuco read books and pray to the Emperor for salvation? No way my friends! Books are for fools! When did a book ever save a man from a hail of bolt shells, or the embrace of a Tyranid? You want to survive? Want to make some money? Pick up a gun or a knife and carve out a future for yourself. The Emperor helps those that help themselves!

So where did old Tuco end up after a lifetime of killing and robbing and stealing? Serving aboard ‘The Vengeance’ a House Varrick ship as chief strong arm to young Darius Varrick, heir to what remains of that once proud dynasty. He’s impetuous and stubborn but he’s got guts and the Emperor knows, you need plenty of those in times like these. His father pulled my fat out of the fire on more occasions than I care to remember. Daddius Varrick, now there was a man!!! He played a mean hand at poker, drank enough whisky to knock out a mule and could still out fight any man I’ve ever met. Bar room brawls just aren’t the same without him around anymore. Tuco never forgets a debt so I look after his boy.  He’s not an easy one to keep out of trouble though.

Young Varrick is trying to revive his family’s fortune. At present we are liberating one of the systems lost to his house from the clutches of chaos worshippers. Let me tell you my friends Tuco’s done a lot of very bad things in his time and seen plenty more, so he’s not one to shy away from blood and gore. But if there’s one thing that turns his stomach it’s the work of chaos worshippers. Those madmen commit crimes so terrible even he feels sick when he sees their victims. A good, honest crook you can bargain with. A good, honest crook only kills people if they are preventing him from pulling off a job. Those freaks torture and kill for no good reason at all. You can’t negotiate a deal with them, or pay them off. You can’t reason with them. You just have to kill those crazy bastards before they kill you. It’s that simple. Tuco didn’t learn that from a book. He learnt that from a week spent aboard a Saynay slaughterhouse ship. I managed to make it out alive but the rest of my crewmates didn’t. I made those Saynay bastards pay for every man they took though. Those sick pigs will remember the name of Tuco Ramirez for a very long time to come. That he can promise you!

Anyways, as I was saying, we’re currently taking Varrick’s planets back, one nest of chaos worshipping scum at a time. I’ve told Darius we shouldn’t take any prisoners but He balks at the idea of killing everyone we find. I don’t. I suppose he stills feels a sense of responsibility to what were, after all, his father’s men. Hopefully, he won’t come to regret that decision. These ‘Whisperers’ as we now call them have been corrupted by the taint of the warp and are being driven by some greater, darker power. So far, it chooses to remain hidden from us. As we continue to interfere with its plans though, I know that this won’t remain the case for very much longer. Tuco fears no man, Ork or Eldar living, but demons from the warp? That’s a different matter! I‘ve seen their handiwork and have no intention of becoming another one of their countless victims. Old Tuco has a saying, ‘Courage, above all things, is the first quality of a warrior’. The second is a loaded bolt pistol...