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“For the glory of Cadia!” “Yeah right, I'm outta here!”

CHAPTER 1: Karlson fething hates Tyranids

Karlson took two steps forward, before raising his lasgun and letting off a few shots into the oncoming horde; but it was no use. Even with the rest of the platoon opening up with everything they've got, it still isn't enough, Karlson thought. Several dozen of the Tyranids went down before they reached the Imperial gunline. The tide of Hormagaunts crashed into the ranks of Guardsmen, the sound of lasfire replaced with alien shrieks and human cries. One of them leaped up and embedded one of its talons into Joe, the bone weapon smashing through his Flak jacket with ease – Karlson could only watch in horror as it decapitated him with its other talon. It then turned its gaze upon Karlson, and let out a hiss, before it began running at him. It leaped at him, passing over a corpse with ease. As it came down, Karlson hefted his lasgun over his left shoulder, then brought the rifles butt down into the side of the Tyranids' face, which knocked it off balance momentarily. Karlson brought his gun up and the bayonet attached to the front of the weapon plunged straight through the Hormagaunts' throat into its brain. It let out one last shriek and wildly swung out at Karlson – a talon scraped against his flak jacket, but it did little more than remove green paint before the Tyranid finally stopped writhing. Karlson pulled his gun free, the bayonet covered in purple ichor and Tyranid brains. It made him feel sick, but then he looked up and glanced around himself. Dead lay everywhere around him – too many to count, but there were more human corpses than Tyranid, that was for sure. Karlsons' nerve cracked as a large beast, standing over two feet taller than him came over the rise. It stood upright, and was sporting a set of vicious claws and two talons – like those of the Hormagaunts, but much, much bigger. It began stalking towards him, and Karlson pulled the trigger on his lasgun to no avail. He'd spent his clip. Slamming the release on the empty cell, he fumbled for another cell, but by the time he'd reloaded and looked up, the beast was upon him. It prepared to strike with one of its claws, then suddenly the top half of it exploded messily, splattering Karlson with Tyranid gore. It took a moment for Karlson to realize he wasn't dead, and he looked up as a Sentinal stalked swiftly forward on its hydraulic legs, blasting away with its autocannon. “By the Emperor, we've won!” Karlson called, and watched with joy as a dozen survivors straggled up after the carnage – the lucky ones only sporting a single wound. Second platoon had arrived, all in chimeras. Guardsmen piled out of their vehicles, and finished off any remaining Hormagaunts, and, as night fell, the Cadians began setting up a field base.

“Fresh wave incoming!” a sentry called from up on the ridge, before a Tyranid creature jumped up next to him, and dragged him away kicking and screaming. Several of the large Tyranid creatures were leading this attack – like the one Karlson had 'fought'. Feth, don't they ever let up? he thought. He turned and ran back to where the rest of the survivors of first platoon were gathered. Lieutenant Jason was there, brandishing his Power sword and Laspistol.
“Here these fethers come again!”he called as he put his helmet back on. “Sergeant Marv, take Karl, Sam, Mic and Dom and reinforce those Leman Russ' – keep those Tyranids off them! Charlie, Tim, with me!” the Lieutenant bellowed.
“Move out!”
Jason ran off right with Charlie and Tim, leaving the other five alone.
“Right, you heard the man! Move it, troopers!” Sergeant Marvin said, before turning tail and heading for the Russ squadron.
“Yeah! Lets take these gakkers!” Mic bellowed, before heading off after the Sarge. Karlson noticed that Mic was sporting a scar on the right of his forehead that hadn't been there before the battle, it looked fresh and painful. Meds must've pumped him up on drugs – no wonder he's so crazy! Who goes off wanting to fight the 'Nids?
Domenic and Sam ran after him, and Karlson began to follow.
“Keep up, Karl!” Dom called over his shoulder at him.

When they got to the Russ squadron, there was little for them to do except cover their ears and cheer as Tyranids were killed by the score. The Leman Russ Punisher, Anchor, let loose another salvo with its massive Gatling cannon, killing atleast three dozen Tyranids, and another dozen odd with its heavy bolter sponsons. Its Lascannon was silent, however. Atleast until they bring out the big bugs, Karlson thought. Scourge was an Executioner Leman Russ – a technological relic, Karlson had heard. Probably right, considering Karlson hadn't seen one before. Then again, Karlson had only been in a dozen battles, all on this godforsaken planet. Scourges' turret fired another plasma burst that shone so bright that you couldn't look at it. The bolt smashed into the Tyranid battle lines, if you could call the charging rabble that, and exploded, vaporizing a dozen 'Nids. Scourges' main cannon fired twice more, and the sponson nearest Karlson hummed to life. Then Karlson noticed the beeping. It was barely audible amongst the sounds of battle, but it was accompanied by a little flashing red light on the massive plasma cannon. Mic, who was standing right next to the weapon, paused in his firing and looked down at it.
“What the hell?” he said, before a burst of plasma leaked outwards at an astonishing rate and covered Mic, who screamed in pain as he was burned.
“Mic! Michael! Feth! Someone get a medic!” Dom called as he ran over to Mic, who had collapsed to the floor, grasping his left arm which was sizzling and smoking. Mic grunted in pain, before muttering, “I'll get those fethers.”
Sarge Marv turned to Karlson. “Karl - go back to the field base! Get a medic here ASAP!” he ordered.
“Yes sir!” Karlson replied, before running off around the back of the Rage IV, the current tank in a line of Leman Russ' with a history of ill-fate – each one was destroyed in its first battle, and the men crewing it were fast becoming legends; they'd escaped the violent destruction of the last three incarnations of their tank, although each time it seems they got a little less sane.

After running awhile, Karlson heard a strange rumbling. He stopped. Looking around in confusion, he eventually realized that it was coming from the ground, which was vibrating. The vibrations were getting louder and stronger by the second. “Gak!” was all he had time to say before the ground directly below him erupted in a spray of dirt and rock, sending him sprawling onto his back several metres away. By the time Karlson had recovered his senses, a trio of massive, slithering Tyranid creatures had emerged from the rupture in the ground. Thinking back to his standard issue Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer book, he remembered seeing something about creatures like this. What were they called, Ravers? Rovers? Raveners? Yes, that last one sounded about right he thought. Doesn't really matter, there's no Sentinel this time, is there? He still looked hopefully around for one though, unfortunately for him to no avail. One of the trio of 'Nids looked in his direction, and slithered towards him. “Oh feth.” He'd been hoping that it wouldn't notice him, even though the IIUP had specifically mentioned somewhere that Ravenors have heightened senses of smell and whatnot. Thinking fast, Karlson grabbed a Frag from his belt, and pulled the pin out with his teeth. “C'mon ya beauty!” he called in as heroic fashion as he could, but instead he sounded like a terrified twelve year old. To tell the truth, that's actually how Karlson felt. The Ravenor closed the gap between them in an instant, and Karlson lobbed the grenade. By the Emperors grace, or some quirk of fate, although probably just a really, really, lucky throw, the grenade got wedged between the Raveners' bony exoskeleton before it detonated. When it did, Karlson was once again splattered with Tyranid gore. Argh! De Ja Vu. Then the searing pain hit him – some of the shrapnel from the Frag grenade had hit him in his leg. Karlson let out a cry of pain before shouting, “I fething hate Tyranids!”
After Scrabbling around for his Lasgun, he used it like a crotch to help walk – after he managed to get up that is. Blood trickled down his leg, making him feel ill.
“Are you alright?” called a voice – it wasn't Tyranid, which relieved Karlson. It was then he remembered Tyranids don't speak. Anyway, he looked up. A Guardsman was running towards him, a backpack full of what looked like medical equipment over one of his shoulders.
“Thank the Emperor!” Karlson said.
“Let's get you back to the field command” the medic replied.
“Listen! I know the way, but you've got to head over to the Leman Russ squadron! There was an accident. One of the plasma weapons over heated. Mic got injured!”
“Mate, just shutup and let me get you back to base” the medic ordered him.
It was just, the sun set in the horizon, and everything went deadly black, although the darkness was constantly interrupted by weapons fire and explosions. Other than that, it was eerily dark.
Both men froze when they heard a hiss coming from somewhere in the gloom.
“Probably nothing..” Karlson said in the firmest tone he could muster.
“Damn, they said in the briefing that this planet had dark nights but... I can't see anything” the medic said as he started fumbling through his backpack.
“What're you looking for?” Karlson asked.
“Flashlight.”
“But you've already got your Lasgun out.”
Neither of them laughed.
“Here it is” stated the medic triumphantly. He pointed the flashlight forward and turned it on, only to reveal the two other Ravenors, that Karlson had encounted, a dozen metres away, staring at them. Both men yelled in surprise.
“Feth!” yelled Karlson. “I'm outta frags!”
“So am I!”
Karlson fell to one knee and aimed his Lasgun at the rapidly approaching Ravenors and held down the trigger – but none of his shots had any affect on the beasts.
“What's that noise?” Karlson yelled, a roaring sound growing louder and louder.
Just then, a Valkyrie flew overhead, a missile screaming out from under one of its wings.
“Get down!” shouted the medic, and the two men threw themselves to the floor. The missile hit the ground and exploded mere seconds later, and Karlson could feel the heat of the blast against his legs. Picking himself up, Karlson watched with relief as the Valkyrie landed, and a squad of Guardsmen scrambled out of the back hatch, two of them rushing over to help him and the medic onto the awaiting craft. When the duo were aboard, the medic sighed turned to Karlson and extended a hand. “The name's Maverick.”



Eh, I was bored. Hope you guys enjoy it, I realize it's not so great. But I enjoy practicing my writing, and I don't do it much. There was a lot of repetition with phrases and words, I realize, but I wrote this early in the morning, and I've only edited it a bit since then. If you guys like this, then I've got quite a few ideas for this story. If not...

But hopefully you will

Meh..

Meh(2)...

Considering the number of views, I'm assuming at least some of them have actually read my OP. So just take the time to respond? It isn't that hard... and if my story is really that bad then just comment and say so, although constructive criticism is better.

Pretty good, it is definatly good enough to make me read more of it if there was more.

Keep up the writing.

Finally. Thanks

Might do something tonight or tomorrow if I get a chance. Who knows.

Definitely* is definitely an annoying word

It was good, but needs more grimdark

I like the guard humour about flashlights

Oh, and the story...that is pretty good too

Agreed with above, more grimdark, maybe add some more descriptive language to tell us just how hellish the battle is, etc.

Eh, the story sprung purely from my imagining of the fight scene at the beginning. A hormy leaping at Karlson, him smashing it with the gun butt and then stabbing it through the head with his bayonet. Just made the story up as I went along .

Next time, I'll try to think up more of a storyline before I actually start writing. Also, this will serve as fluff for my IG army I intend to start.

It's got an element of Ciaphas Cain in it, which I like. I quite enjoyed this, there'd better be more, that's what I say!

Thanks Gorsky, coming from you that means a lot. What's happening with your one? I WANT MOAR! Especially if it went back to the point of view of the orks, for instance, with the meks (I know the one that wanted to off the other one is dead buuuut..) and summit with the warboss.

Oh yeah, this is my thread.

I haven't read the Ciaphas Cain stuff yet, but he's the Imperiums patron saint of luck and sarcasm - that's for sure

Also, what element is this?

And guys, what stuff in it did you particularly like?

Something that I also would like to know is how good I am at writing action scenes (i.e. combat). I know I've only written 2 odd, and I shall write more. Any tips on writing said action would also be helpful... although I spose I know already, just need to practice. [/endrant]

I like the familiarity; you feel like you could be in the squad with this guy.

The action scenes are done well; you've got internal monologue and they feel pretty brutal

although they have all been a 1 on 1 scenario so stack the odds a bit in someone's favor for some encounters, that'll allow you to change things up, allow some tension and whatnot

Here is what I want more of
- More grimdark and general misery
- Details on weapons, nids, guardsmen and so on
- less funnt stuff and more sinister
- More gore and blood

Eh. I'll post chapter 2, eventually. I'll just get the characters together or something, get an overview of what's happening via Lt. Jason, etc etc.

Although, I really have no plot ideas at the minute. Well, long term I do, but that's only for the progression of the characters - no actual storyline. :/

I would've had gore and blood in the first one, but it was only the beginning - a short, and who knows, you guys might not have liked it. Fortunately for me, you do.

That makes 4 people wanting more Grim Dark........ man almost everybody has Generic Names! Kill some more! its just unnatural to have a bunch of generic soldiers live

my main suggestion is to be a tad bit more accurate or clear. I couldn't tell if the medic was being serious about the grenades or being a smart ass. cause if he was serious O_O "okay so I let me just pull out the morphi- *chink* o Dear" BOOOOOOM!!!!!



Great stuff though, just needs more death.....just remember when writing BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

3, as I liked it as it was. Unless you weren't including me. In which case, carry on, Commissar.

I wasn't including you, if you go quickly over the posts 3 people other than myself say more Grim deaths with a side of darkness.

Whoops, my mistake.

Tis all cool man :3

Nothing. Absolutely nothing for the last three hours. Vlad, sniper for the platoon, had been sitting motionless for three hours, and he was getting very bored. Staring through his scope, he casually zoomed in and out at will. At one point he'd even seen some sort of bug - it'd been about two foot long, with a dozen legs each side and a teeth-edged maw. He'd considered shooting it, after all, seeing something explode would've been the highlight of his day. But his professional side kicked in, and he remembered that he'd only be revealing his position.
A rustle came from behind him.
Vlad tensed.
More rustling from the undergrowth behind him.
Vlad slowly lowered his long-las and as slowly, and silently as he could, turned his head. There, looking out at him from within an overgrown area of woodland, he saw two menacing eyes. A low growling sound came from the creature as it slowly moved out of its cover. It was a Tyranid alright, a Hormagaunt. But it wasn't like one Vlad had seen on the battlefield - this one was more like a roaming predator, acting instinctively. After all, a normal one would've killed him before he'd even been aware of it. The veteran sniper took in the bone-white colour of its chitinous hide, its black armored back, its bloody teeth, its dagger-like talons. Its powerful legs.
The hormagaunt leaped, and Vlad allowed himself to fall onto his back, raising his long-las as he did. As the beast came down on him, less than a second later, he pulled the trigger, the concentrated las-beam punching straight through its chest. The Tyranid fell on him, robbed of momentum after it'd been hit. The impact was enough to wind Vlad however. The beast hacked and slashed at his head, and Vlad barely managed to avoid the blows. He punched it on the side of its head with his left fist, and wrestled it onto its back. He held its arms, struggling to hold back its powerful talons. It snapped at him, trying to bite his chest. He lurched backwards, and the Hormagaunt kicked out, sending him flying half a dozen metres. Vlad lay sprawled on his back, and watched as his foe flipped onto its front, and began to charge. He hurriedly snatched his combat blade from its sheath on his camoflauged jacket. The Tyranid jumped at him. He rolled to his right, the Hormagaunt hitting the ground where he had been mere seconds before. It turned and slashed out, cutting into Vlad's chest. He screamed in pain, before bowling into it, and plunging his blade through its yellow eye. The Hormagaunt shrieked and flailed under him, and disgusting multi-coloured liquids began to flood out of the Hormagaunt's shattered eye. Vlad mercilessly pulled the blade left and outwards, making the wound bigger and pulling bits of brain and skull out with it, flinging them wide. The beast stopped moving. Vlad stood up, but howled out in pain, as blood began to pour from the gash on his chest. He stumbled away from the body, grunting and screaming with every movement. He slumped down on a large rock, holding his bloody chest in agony, in a vain attempt to halt the bleeding. Then there was another growl. And another. And a hiss. Vlad could only look on in horror as three more Hormagaunts emerged from the overgrown jungle, a scream rising in his throat.

Nice....but..........wouldn't a sniper have a spotter?


But that was very Grimdark.
I simply must request more.

Reading my last story post again.. O.O

I was like "wtf, did I write that?!"
Very grimdark. Unfortunately, I don't believe I got much else across - little thinking, even less description of the area, and.. well.. just very little .

Ah well, thanks for reply .

But something I have to say, try to stay consistent with the actions. You said he jumped on the Tyranid's back but then somehow the Tyranid was trying to bite his chest.........Unless Tyranids can actually do this and I just don't know about it.

No.

He punched it, and wrestled it onto ITS back. It was lying belly up with him on top.

Darkvoidof40k wrote: No.

He punched it, and wrestled it onto ITS back. It was lying belly up with him on top.

Gotcha

O.o NOW that was grimdark and just the way we like it! Keep it coming good sir.