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We need MOAR. Great read, like the rest.

Great read probably better than some black library stuff i have read.

Flattery will get you everywhere Haloreachforever

Wow , i am lost for words, and that doesnt happen often ! just finished the whole thing in one sitting this is the best writing i have ever had the pleasure to read on dakka ,it is a fantastic tale , the depth and descriptions are first rate , You truly are scrivener of biblical preportions, i am so hooked and cant wait for the next thrilling installment.

favourite lines

I once squeezed of a shot at Egrek. Big mistake.' at this he flashed his right palm, there was no discernible print just a slab of grey waxy meat.

'I was only supposed to get my bionic lungs on elevation to junior Fabricator, seems I get them early' at this the Magos chuckled, satisfied with the joke. Again Kervid was struck by the black humour of the dying.

just really great writing. Kervid is my new hero ;-)

As usual thanks for the support, and thanks for pointing out your fave bits Neil, it was very encouraging/useful.
Right, time to deal with this pesky Dreadnought, or indeed deal with the pesky Guardsmen

It was not a time to trip on the rubbled threshold, it was a time to demonstrate the reckless bravery of the imperial guard. The rag-tag squad entered the dreadnought's asphalt arena, it turned to face them like some triumphant Murmillo. With no hesitation Scotland threw a Krak grenade at the steel monster, the magnetised bomb burst impotently on the Hardened front armour of the hate-filled beast. Other errant grenades were similarly confounded by the bulwarked carapace. Joining the assault Kervid fired a panicked fusillade from his powerful weapon, if they can get a clear shot at it's back! He hurriedly reasoned as he carefully pumped the trigger.

Clearly angered, servo sped legs now pumped their course towards the impudent plasma gunner. Although Kerv was full aware of the onrushing death. A split second of hesitation gripped him , he risked a glance towards the veterans, scrambling to get behind the Insane war engine as they were, One More Shot! One more shot and they can take 'im! His last shot rung wide, missing the now smouldering plating. As if time itself flowed viscous Kervid realised he had been pushed, Corporal Tucson Hung in mid air, a selfless dive to save a young man from himself. Coinciding with the collision of flesh and metal, time resumed it's course. Kervid was gripped from behind and dragged clear of the dreadnought as it struggled to free itself from the crushed tangle of it's own creation. Scotland, still dragging the stunned youth, threw his last Krak grenade as did his remaining men. The bass thuds of the shaped charges filled the street with impenetrable dust,
'Once it clears, we'll know..'

Dumas hurriedly handed out the cargo from his brace of meagre Frags, if it wasn't dead it would be a pretty desperate fight indeed. The dust now lingered only in the cavernous rupture the War machine had rent. Kervid spotted a stream of black fluid oozing from the hole. He drew the men's attention to it, necks were craned to attempt a clearer view, though none were foolish enough to venture closer. The question hung in the air, the body of Tucson answered it, a mangled missile just to clarify. It wasn't dead. The careening cadaver crunched into the one named Vorenus, funny; Vorenus always liked Tucson. Both men were rendered equally shattered by the time they came to a stop. It wobbled out of its would be grave drunkenly, cracks showing in it's wretched hide, each move made issuing a horrendous racket from it's symbiotic metal organs.
'NO! NO! NO! NOT FOR 5000 YEARS HAVE I BEEN BESTED! AND NOT FOR 5000 MORE AGAINST YOUR WEAKLING KIN...'
It gathered speed, the veterans divided aiming to sprint round it's flanks, the noise was deafening, stomping metal, grinding steel, clouding judgement, obscuring fear, it gave Kervid and the men new purpose, maybe there was a chance.

Unknown to all, the frustrated growls of the dreadnought machinery had obscured something else; the sound of an Onrushing chimera. Too late the dreadnought turned to face the transport, taking full on the momentum of the reckless tank. The force was so titanic that all witnessing would have thought the crew of the tank dead for sure. The toppled dreadnought righted itself, the sarcophagus now cracked open showing the corpse pilot that drove it, a skeletal face lolling obscenely with a sinewy jaw. Kervid and Scotland were too close now to get away in time and the giant loomed above them, ready, willing and relieved to be able to pulp these whelps once and for all. No time to look behind for retreat, scrambling back into the office building was not an option. Just as it raised a fist the desiccated traitor's skull exploded like a tumescent pustule. A bolt round, from a Commisar's pistol, in the hands of Murtahn.

'Couldn't let you guys take all the glory now, could I?!'

Next time, we meet some new characters and there are some interesting developments. C & C welcome.

great read, as always. Curious as what the interesting developments would be. awaiting newt part eagerly

Yep Great stuff as usual , your setting the bar high in the fiction dection Matey.

Best line

"as if time itself flowed viscous Kervid realised he had been pushed, Corporal Tucson Hung in mid air, a selfless dive to save a young man from himself."

Beautifull prose.

but imagining the chimera crashing into the dread was also an evocative image. Good work mate. I know its prettytime consuming to create a piece like this. thanks for sharing . and i too await the newest characters with impatience.

Thats a great read keep it up!

Aaaaaawwwwssssome this trumps anything else ive read on here

Really Sorry to bump this without a meaningful Update but can i just say a big, Massive, huge Thankyou to everyone for getting this to 1000 views ! Don't worry, i don't mind the naughty lurkers amongst them

Am currently pouring my fiction writing energy into my dark Eldar so poor old Kervid has been somewhat absent from my thoughts as of late. The story is not over though.... Watch the Skies.

Brilliant

so now i am right there where i knew before where i would be when i start reading your work...

...in the mids of a great storyline put on a hold...

how could you...

god , is it that much to ask for some happy story for a guardsman? guess so...i still have that image of the by the floor crushed fellow guardsmen in my mind...carnage...

amazingly whittled the ten Man death squad to just three marines to the cost of a mere fifteen of their own

*gulps* 7 to 15... first round...then the floar collapsed...deathtoll rising...

i still feel always uneasy to see soldiers die and they only get credit when they die in big numbers...


dont get my rublings wrong... i am astonished, mooved and now a bit addicted...shame on you...and shame on me too^^

cheers, and here is hoping you go on writing soon...

vik

Hmmm This is true, such reckless slaughter, such a cavalier attitude towards human Life. Don't blame me Vik, Blame High Command....

ha! yep who thought high command to wiled their power with responsibility...geuss no one really competent...

Really thrilling, this has had me captivated at work (I work in a call center so I can read and talk) I read this all in one day I need moar!! Seriously the stuff you are writing has kept me going And if you have Sky T.V you had best do it or I might mess up and do things to your account if you phone in Nah but seriously.... this stuff is great, please continue this work, it's VERY good. (This is coming from a guy who couldn't get into the Horus books) I like how your writing techniques improve with every portion you release, and I am really enjoying the character progression. I will certainly be keeping an eye on this, and I hope the more you release the better the writer you become Looking forwards to it so keep writing!

Cheers! Yeah every so often i dip into the entries for edits, could keep doing it for ages. What's funny is that i haven't read an entire 40k novel; i prefer the short stories that are in the codexes etc. More of an Iain M Banks kinda guy.

I guess it's probabaly pretty appropriate to be picturing a dreadnought ripping apart guardsmen when dealing with angry callers.

I like how you captured the essence of the guard. Pissing scared and rather be anywhere, but when the chips are down and your facing impossible odds, "feth it, we can take em", shown brilliantly. I like the realism of the combat, you really do make me see the skirmishes, and the characters. And really feel for the troopers. Really good work here.

This is reallly cool!Do you work for back libary because this would make a exlant short story!

wow i found this a very good read. Kodus

We neeeeed an update

Thanks to the new readers! Glad you went to the trouble of commenting, it's good to know who's actually enjoyed my Fanfic.

Was 'writing' the first lines of the next passage in my head at work today, was pretty glad you commented Ultrasmurf, it's as if you sensed i was starting to form new ideas. You gave me just the kick i needed!

The next passage will introduce a new 'voice' but i am not sure if i will continue the motif as the two characters will be together for the rest of the story, so it will be a one off. Really i should have started a sepperate narrative earlier to make the meeting have more impact Anyway i am waffling and will continue writing the next part.

Tomorrow evening the story will continue!!!

aye, long wait that will be worth^^

Finally we can resume the tale! Here are two new characters hope you enjoy them as much as i enjoyed creating them.

Quiran

Woozy, the word seemed the only appropriate one for the moment, in tandem the ringing hangover of concussion pulsed through his temples. His nerves searched for their limbs, One, two, three, four they answered his search with dull pain, satisfied Quiran slowly hauled himself upright on the bench. It was currently too dark for any further damage control, as if beckoned his HUD stuttered into life, it seemed the reset had been a painful one for the machine spirit, both man and machine were groggy and loathe to do any hard work. His optic nerves relaxed into their torpid state as the auto senses took over. 5 purple shapes, purple meant unconscious he hazily recalled. The shape nearest him pulsed a dim red, light and thermal amplification revealed the shape's blood on the walls, dashed upon mindless steel.

Quiran knew the shape; Harvard Manson, an Acolyte of the poorest quality it was recalled. However Quiran felt no satisfaction in his death, keeping his master's secret shame alive had been something of goal. Someday the boy might have confessed the compromising role he had once played for the Lord inquisitor. The Lord Inquistor; my master, Quiran reflected, what a hateful man...

As one glow faded into death another form sprawled on the floor was slowly fading into conciousness. Shadrach Vinder; Quiran had no love for the man but emperor's grace, he was tough.

'What are you looking at Buggerchops?'
'You' he replied to Vinder wearily, for more reasons than one.
His eyes had adjusted to the light, now he could see the windburnt man rub his stubbled jaw and yawn scornfully.
'Aven't felt this rough since drinking that Space Wolf under the table!'
'You cheated as I recall'....
'Huh huh Huh, what can I say? I haven't got 5 livers or whatever, I had to improvise...'
Vinder was a crude man, he could barely read and had undergone none of the mandatory etiquette training forced on all but a few Imperial guardsmen. The man was more likely to be stowing a spare flask in his webbing than a magazine, Emperor knows he would probably think that a complement. It was not always so, 15 years ago he had been a withdrawn, quiet, youth, Quiran had found him leading a gang amongst the rubble of daemon ravaged city. In the place Vinder grew up, the voice was a luxury, one word too loud and unspeakable daemons would flock to them like crows to carrion. No babe ever cried, for long.... Where the spoken word was once so precious to the man he now over indulged, a self penned wittycism Quiran was constantly reminded of.

'Is the bitch alive Uolis? I dont have your fancy goggles'
'Yes she is, though she is sleeping'
'Oh yeah?! Thats how I like her' he joked darkly.
'Well you had better pray she is sleeping deeper than last time you tried' the weariness crept back into Uolis' voice, he hoped someone else would wake to save him from dealing with this man alone.

A series of sharp knocks. Not long after another bar followed. At this Quiran and Vinder finally crawled their way to the rear hatch of the crashed Chimera.

*rubs hands together* nice read, have been waiting quite a bit for that read^, tho i am a bit confused as to when or where i have to line in this piece?

Whoops. Remember the chimera crashing into the dreadnought in the last part? This is who is in it. Inquisitor Quiran Uolis and his retinue, all of whom will be introduced.

oh...yes i seem to rememeber that incident^^...was quite a long time wait it seems^^ now more things make sense to me^^

Okay, this is IMO my best bit of Fiction for a while. I really enjoyed writing it and hope you find it to be emotional and quite a good framing piece for the story so far.

Kervid wandered around in a lazy circle, the drunken energy of the fight spent and leaking away. A shaking hand ran itself though dust and sweat matted hair, dried blood caked his forehead and cheeks, not all of it his own, some sticking in the stubble of an errant beard. It was cracked like a mosiac where his wearied smile had breached it. Hot crumbs of the red primer had reached his pallet, stale propellent tainting the, now familiar, copper tang. A glance to the other men; an intrepid group had surrounded the damaged chimera, their shouts as they brandished wrench bars and arc torches were bloated distortions, drowned out by the pulsing in his ears. The rest of the squad were sitting, or pacing, around the pole-axed form of the dreadnought. Some staring in disbelief and triumph others simply grateful of the warmth from the sizzling vitriol seeping from the sarcophagus.

Kervid was aware none had begun the task of securing the corpses of the defeated enemy. It seemed that the young lad had to take on the dangerous task himself. The decimated platoon had purposefully ignored the wallowing form Kervid spied through the settling mists. As he ventured closer the enormity of the shape dawned on him, Kervid remembered the thrashing form of a floundered mudwhale that once washed up on the beach of his childhood town. Though the armoured behemoth did not share the mudwhale's wretched moaning it did emit it's own base growl. As he came closer he reflected, how many more dying men, Foe and friend, would he stand vigil for? The remains of the marine loomed before him, a bloody trunk, a splintered helm falling from his face like dead bark.

'I never thought you'd die like normal men...'
'We don't' the traitor marine grunted without looking up.
He walked closer, a ruined hand tried to close over the pommel of a tainted blade, the shattered nerves refused to obey and the fingers merely jerked impotently a thousand light years from purchase. The other hand held a bolter, he still pumped the trigger, the mechanism echoing through an empty chamber.
'I cant even gut you...' he said wearily, the hint of a laugh in his voice.
'Dont think I would bare my belly like a good slave' Kervid ventured, concealing his undiminished fear.
'Ha! You've spirit lad, you may have made me a good squire'
'Only the knights of the Astartes are permitted squires, heretic'
'Hmmm true enough, in honesty you would be closer to slave, My beatings would only take you to the edge of death and each time you would be grateful'.
'Why all this hatred traitor? it is no life..'
Black blood gurgled from his mouth and he only bubbled a growl in reply. Kervid saw his wounds, his chest, and indeed body, ended in charred flesh, his spinal column snaking limply into a burnt stump, drowning in blood, bile and spinal fluid.
'The meat is sealed my child, it gives me no pain.' At this the dying perversion dropped the bolter and tore off a chunk of himself, He brought it to his mouth and chewed with sharpened teeth. He spat it out.
'Overdone'.

At this moment Kervid noticed the coiling black smoke issuing from the cracks in the dying hulk's Armour.
'You ask me why so much hate? Hate gives you strength boy, yes it makes you reckless, but what man ever won a battle without taking risks?
Kervid sidled closer, against his better judgement he was enthused by the abomination's logic.

'That is where you are wrong space marine'
Kervid had not noticed the approach of the inquisitor, the heavy thumps of power armoured boots sneaking up on him. On his approach the black smoke grew in ferocity, the fumes now acrid in the boys nostrils. Uolis had spoken with serenity as if he had spoken the words a thousand times before.
'What do you know of hatred imperial lap dog?!' the beast snarled, smoke billowing from his nostrils.
'I know enough, it is a cancer, a paradox, the tumour that has been keeping you alive for ten thousand years'
'A cancer that has kept me STRONG! I remember Istvaan, when I unfurled the banner, I cast aside my chains!'
'I pity you.' the inquisitor continued 'Now you see the end it abandons you, you question it's nature, do you hate the emperor or yourself. The brothers you have slain, the mercy you left behind?'
'ENOUGH!' the smoke was thick now, the traitors flesh turning grey like ash. Uolis did not remove his gaze and so to the traitor stared, defiant, blood spat malice;
'I know what awaits me at the end, they will take to me like a mother to a lost child. You?! YOU?!....... THEY WILL TEAR YOU TO F**KING MESSES!!!!!!!!!'
'I have no fear, can you say the same heretic?'
The face began to crumble, the anchor of hatred corroding away, all it issued in reply was a low moan gurgling out as black liquid turn to grey nitre.

'That is a sad thing you have witnessed..' a nod, an inquisitive gesture,
'Kervid sir'
'That is a sad thing you have witnessed Kervid, as his hatred left him all he had left was the empty promises of Laughing Gods'
'What did he mean, 'at the end?'' Came Kervid's reply, it was certain, the marines' last words had unsettled him.
'I am afraid I cannot say for sure child, it was his belief and now he will test it, best not to dwell' he gave a heavy gauntleted hand to the boys shoulder a gesture of kindness that was not unwelcome.
'Come Kervid, it is time for evacuation'


And a thousand miles above Thermobaric rockets and virus bombs primed, warheads ignorant of their genocidal vocation...

THE END?

I am afraid it is not that easy... The tale of Tyreasia is not over and not yet have we heard its mournful Diatribe ..Private Rob Kervid will return in.......

'OF LAUGHING GODS'
Watch the skies and THANKS FOR READING!

Excellent read, as usual!

Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!1

i realy like the inquisitive mind of kervid, tho i doubt that an inquisitor would let a heretic dialogue like that happen at all...or is there a certain sparkle in kervids eyes that the inquisitor wants for his own now? very graphic but not tasteless desciptive storytelling, it was quite cineastic, so that i could picture the scenein my mind...

good call that this is not already the end... the charcter of kervid is just to good to lay to rest. his naive but ever so more growing up eyes behold the world of eperor and his enemies with a refreshing new perspective, that teaches me volumes about the 40k universe...thank the spirits that are watching over us that this is no common story telling^^

vik (already watching again the space between the cloudy sky)

Hmmm, Kervid, Interrogator for Inquisitor Uollis!