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Hi guys, here is my first offering to the fiction forum
It's 1:30am here, and i've just spend the past hour writing this. I haven't read over it for any mistakes etc. Not saying there will be many, but maybe the occassional one...

The wind blew and the snow fell, but Okuren still walked. Standing short of 6 foot, draped in brown fatigues with white armour plate, he walked. The compound was relatively big for its purpose. A relay station, posted on the western edge of Betalis III’s main continent, its purpose, to surveil the myriad of snow plains and glaciers of the planet’s climate. It was sub-zero, always. Okuren’s uniform was made especially for the climate. Thick animal skin clad his body, with hot air pumped between the layers from his backpack, kept him warm. A full head helmet connected to his backpack protected his face from the cold and pumped warm air in for him to breathe. He walked a gentle and confident pace around the perimeter. Twelve foot high metal fences topped with razor wire cordoned off the compound from the everlasting snow plains. Shifting his lasgun in his arms, he stopped. Peering out into the darkness of the night, Okuren saw snow. Both settled on the ground and drifting down from the sky. The wind picked up, and Okuren had to re-adjust his stance to avoid falling. A storm is brewing, he thought. Looking out into the distance one last time, Okuren saw nature’s optical illusion. The falling snow over the black canvas that was the horizon made it look like there was something shimmering and moving. He smiled. Stuck in the frozen waste made him appreciate the little things. Continuing on with his patrol, he drudged toward the recreational building.

Shutting the door behind him, he unclipped his helmet and placed it on the table in the centre of the room and hooked the strap of his lasgun over his shoulder. Walking to the counter, along the wall of the room, to fix himself a drink, he found himself peering out of the window into the darkness again. He sighed. Rubbing his eyes and then face, he looked down to focus on what he was doing. That’s when he saw it. A faint purple glow in the distance. Squinting his eyes and getting closer to the window, he pondered the possibilities of the source. The binoculars, he thought. Reaching for the pair of binoculars on the table, he turned his attention to the shining light in the dark. The binoculars were no help. The darkness was all-consuming. He could, however, make out some sort of shape. Sleek, with smooth edges, almost organic in nature. Then the light extended. The beam shot forward into the relay station. Annihilating the structure next to the building Okuren was in. The shockwave took Okuren’s feet from under him, throwing him to the ground.
Okuren sat on the floor. Dazed. Confused. Staring at the wall as if he cognitive functions ceased. Another flash of purple light and explosion slapped Okuren from his slumber. He crawled to the window, peaking his head over the ledge, he could see them now. Machines defying gravity, performing inexplicably dangerous and stunning manoeuvres. This is it, the voice in his head told him, war.
The thought lingered, for almost too long. He was trained for this, he was ready. But his inexperience crippled him. He sunk back to the ground, and pulled his lasgun from behind him. He looked down at the weapon. It seemed like yesterday he commanding officer was instructing him on using it at the firing range. You face the enemy head on! Sargent Maruq used to say, One of you will die, your determination will decide who! He took a deep breath, and let those words sink in. Okuren got up slowly, then ran to the stairs the other side of the room. Taking three steps at a time, he blitzed his way to the top. Glancing around, he crossed the room to the ladder in the far corner. Pushing the hatch open at the top, the crawled out onto the roof.

The cold was painful. Like rubbing shards of glass against your cheek. But Okuren’s adrenaline fuelled body barely acknowledged the chill. He kept low, crouching towards the edge of the roof where sandbags had been piled up. This is where he’d fight. Heading towards the sound of the enemy, he could hear groups of men forming defensive positions. They, like he, were combat virgins. Fresh from the PDF’s training school, this was their first assignment. And they were failing. Okuren reached the sandbag wall and peered over it. Enemy in the wire, he thought to himself. Ducking his head back down, he threw his equipment up against the sandbags for him to see. Two frag grenades and a lasgun. It isn’t going to be enough.

Okuren picked up the lasgun and held it firmly. Taking a deep breath, he span up onto his knee, lasgun over the sandbags and began to fire. Aliens ran in the snow. Gracefully dancing from one footfall to another. But he couldn’t shoot them. His aim was off. He shot none the less. Shot after shot into the enemy, and he eventually clipped one. Wounding it’s leg, the thing stumbled and fell. He put shot after shot into it, his ability to hit a stationary target was exemplary. He wondered how his fellow comrades were doing. No good he guessed, these aliens were above their ability and he knew it.
A sound, one Okuren had never heard before got greater and greater. A sort of consistant, uninterrupted buzzing. Then he saw it, the fascinating machine, hovering above the ground, guns blazing. Okuren ducked his head and reached for one of his grenades. Pulling the pin out with his teeth, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the impending fireball that was about to engulf the mysterious vehicle. The grenade barely made it, exploding early about two meters away from the hull. But the flames barely touched the vehicle. Instead they spread around it, like the flames engulfed a ball, while not reaching the vehicle at all. Ducking back down and cursing in frustration, he lifted his lasgun and resumed shooting the enemy.

The battle didn’t seem to last long. Eventually, the sounds of war had died down. After gunning down another elegant alien Okuren hid behind the sandbags. The start realisation hit him, everyone was dead. Only the sounds of the mysterious hovering vehicles and raging fires were left – no cries of orders or sounds of lasgun fire. He was alone. And afraid. His duty was to die in the name of the Emperor, but to resume fire against such overwhelming odds was senseless. I don’t want to die, he whispered to himself. In his frantic thoughts about how to survive, he reached the conclusion he needed to be rescued. Dropping everything, he crawled back to the hatch. His sense of self-preservation was overpowering. Scampering down the ladder and closing the hatch behind him, he realised truly how cold the fresh air of Betalis III was. The moderately warm air from inside the building burnt his skin, bringing out a bright red colour to his cheeks.
He reached the ground floor, and threw himself to the ground. It was only a matter of time before one of the aliens saw him through the window. Crawling to the corner where the vox sat, he twisted the knobs. Nothing. Static was the only response he got. But his attention was drawn elsewhere. The door handle clicked. Someone was coming in.

Okuren’s heart raced. He could hear the beats in his ears. The door swung open, revealing a long, slender shadow on the floor. Okuren paniced. Fear took ahold. Lasgun, he thought. But no, he quickly realised it was on the roof, with his remaining grenade. Fear flashed through his mind again. How could he be so stupid. But then, something took ahold of him. Was it a sense of pride? A feeble attempt at survival? Or the God-Emperor reaching out to him is his time of need? He face went from fear to determination. His right hand yanked free the knife that was sheathed on his lower leg. As this alien stepped through the door, Okuren charged. One foot in front of the other. Propelling his body to top speed. His arm hung low, knife pointed out, ready to make that killing stab. He looked the alien – an Eldar guardian – in the face. One of you will die, your determination will decide who! Sargent Maruq’s words echoed in his head. It seemed like an eternity to close the distance. Each step bringing Okuren closer to fate. Now! He was within striking distance. Thrusting the blade forward, Okuren willed it towards the Eldar’s heart. But the guardian, infinitely more agile than Okuren, sidestepped him. Catching the thrust of Okurens blade, the guardian used his side-step’s momentum to come around behind Okuren, still with his thrust firmly in the Eldars grip, he raised the knife and ran it across the guardsman’s neck.

His body fell to the ground. He didn’t see it coming. He didn’t even know what had happened until he was on the floor. But he lie there immobile. Blood pooling from his gashed neck, soaking into his cloths and running under his face. His eyes moved, he watched the guardian leave the building, with his knife still in its hand. He could see the alien walking in the snow. Okuren clung to life. The Eldar stopped, and looked back to Okuren’s body in the doorway. Okuren watched with staring eyes, the Eldar dropped the blade in the snow, turned, and continued to walk away. And then the darkness faded in.

Pretty good.

I like it, very well written.

 Mr Nobody wrote:
I like it, very well written.

Agreed