Prologue

Curiosity does not come naturally to a Necron. Most members of this ancient race lack any understanding, or desire for understanding of anything outside of their assigned tasks.

So when a Necron shows interest and curiosity in something, then the following results are certain to be interesting. This story you are about to be told will show you things from the viewpoint of the Curator and Lord of Solemnace, Trazyn the Infinite as he meets several strange new creatures and people after he discovers an unusual artefact...

Chapter One

It had been an interesting time for Trazyn. A campaign on the tomb world of Carnac had recently taken place, which he had involved himself in at the request of the Necron Lord Anrakyr the Traveller. Trazyn thought to himself for a moment about the actions of Anrakyr; They really are ponderous. Why would he spend so much time and expend such effort on such a pointless vanity crusade? So far his actions have yielded nought but the destruction of his forces time and time again, even more disturbing is everything that he destroys that should be preserved. It's insanity. Trazyn shook his head in disgust, but in the end it mattered little. Even Anrakyr would be preserved in his gallery, his actions and deeds, no matter how horrific, being immortalised for the rest of time. Trazyn turned his thoughts back to the present moment. The acquisition of Anrakyr would have to wait. It was time to land.

As the starship docked into one of the many ports of Solemnace Trazyn ordered for a team of Spyders to meet him once he departed the transport, for only they had the combined might and careful precision needed to move the Spirit Shrine recovered from the Eldar Exodites on Carnac. At least something good came of this, he thought. Trazyn was always loathe to leave Solemnace for anything other than acquiring a piece for his gallery, especially something as pointless as a war! The Spirit Shrine would make an excellent addition to his 'Eldar psychic marvels' collection, though.

As the Spyders took away the Shrine to it's appropriate holding place (under the EXTREMELY close eye of their master) a small, single Scarab bumbled it's way to Trazyn, it's wings chittering enthusiastically. Trazyn reached down to it without ever turning his head from the crew that was shifting his beloved new Spirit Shrine. The Scarab was a particularly special model, although not too difficult to replicate: It monitored the systems of the Gallery whilst Trazyn was out on business. While a Wraith would normally be the one to perform this task, with a scarab carrying out this duty, Trazyn could manually upload the data from the Scarab to his mind, so no detail would be missed out.

The Scarab climbed onto Trazyn's outstretched palm and linked itself to him. Let's see what has happened in my absence, he thought. Hmm, two malfunctions, unusual. Both Wraith units, both were restrained. That was a relief. He would have smiled but his expression was constantly fixed in a menacing glare. The second unit, however, destroyed two exhibits. Irritation flared. The first damaged item was a knife which belonged to the Kroot Shaper who struck the bargain with the Tau when they were at war with the Orks. Unique but it can be replaced, I suppose. The other damaged item was an ancient Necrontyr Vase. Trazyn's hand closed fiercely, crushing the small Scarab within, as it gave out a small electronic squeal. He sprinkled the shattered remains of the robot on the floor in disgust. That vase was priceless and will be incredibly difficult to replace. He turned to the Captain as he stepped out of the mighty vessel, "Gather two phalanxes of Lychguard from the Carnac force," he said "it looks like we'll be returning for more spoils."

The ship was underway, a return course to Carnac plotted into the ships A.I mainframe. There really wasn't that much need for a Captain, it was more a case of tradition, carried over from the Time of Flesh. The so called 'Captain' merely plotted courses and ordered individual units around to repair the ship when necessary. They rarely piloted the ship, only in cases where the need was severe, such as a malfunction of the ship's A.I.

"My Lord," the Captain spoke in his dull, emotionless tone, "We are receiving an unknown signal from the nearby moon." Trazyn moved towards the helm. "What does it say?" He spoke to the Captain, with only a slight hint of a curious tone. "It seems to be a request for help. It was not here before, so it must have activated when we passed by the first time, but we had travelled out of range by that time. It is Necron in origin," the captain motioned to the screen displaying the message, along with a Necrontyr sigil, "I do not recognise the dynasty though, my Lord. Apologies." Trazyn waved the apology away. "That is no problem," said Trazyn, his curiosity piqued, "take us in to find out."

The ship descended to the surface of the moon, to discover the source of the ominous distress call, but what was to follow could not be expected, not even by the great Orikan the Diviner himself.