My Name is Roboute
My name is Roboute. I maintain the servitors that clean hab block 117. Like so many others, I am named for the Imperial Regent, son of the God-Emperor, but I am not a great man. My parents wished more for me than what I am.
Plasteel Shaman
Men crawled the world below as ants atop their mound, picking clean the surface and near-depths to feed the hive and Imolier at its peak. This was the closest they…
The Bomb
Tick.The rail lines are colour-coded for convenience. White, blue, red - manufactorum, administratum, and if one was to imagine this Hive to be a vast body, then these veins pulsing…
First Light
When I was little, my favourite stories were the ones Mama would tell me about the Sun. She would always talk about it with this… this reverence, like it was…
God Speaks
Daniley crashes, still half-awake, out of the service corridor with the hundred filthy folk that he berths with. Ship lights that had dimmed for the sleep cycle now blaze the…
Memento
Luci held the coin tightly as she ran through the crowded halls of the market district. She nimbly dodged an almac vendor, ducking beneath the swaying bottles that hung suspended…
The Servitor’s Laugh
My gears click-clack as I trundle past the stacks. I hand off my cart of tomes to a page servitor and putter back to the archivist's office. On the way,…
A Taste of Xenos
‘Fear the alien. Hate the alien. Kill the alien. Eat the alien.’- Chef Basilious III They’ll hang this on me, I guarantee it, but I refuse to be held responsible. If…
The Pride of Silas Prov
Deep in the bowels of Kulograd, production lines hum every hour of the day. It’s long, hard work, with no time to rest, though nobody complains. Most of them remember…
The Final Course
A vicious right hook sent Apprentice Osberft reeling backwards, a blurry double image of Master Leofric looming over him. ‘You stupid Grox! You utter fething moron!’ he roared. This abuse was a…