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Commissar Steve © Mordoskul and used with permission.

Commissar Steve and the Sanguine Hands

“SIT UP AND PAY ATTENTION LADIES!” Commissar Steve yelled as he looked towards the vid-capturers. His specially selected team of four carried three of them, with the fourth man carrying a boom mic. Today’s' mission was vital if the coming weeks and months were to be a success. The Promethean 563rd regiment had been teamed up with a chapter of Blood Angel successors called the Sanguine Hands to begin a campaign to reclaim the Xifria system in the name of the Emperor. The Promethean 563rd could handle it alone, Commissar Steve felt, and suspected the Space Marine commanders felt the same way, but orders were orders.

“I'M HERE ABOARD THE SANGUINE HANDS STRIKE CRUISER CRIMSON FURY TO MAKE A SPECIAL DOCUMENTARY FOR THE PROMETHEAN FIVE HUNDRED AND SIXTY THIRD, TO WHOM THESE SPACE MARINES HAVE BEEN ATTACHED DURING OUR CONQUEST OF THE XIFRIA SYSTEM!” Commissar Steve continued. “THEY AREN'T LIKE US MEN OF PROMETHEAN, THEY'RE ALOOF AND AWKWARD ANYWHERE THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE KILLING SOMETHING. SOMETHING THEY'RE ALMOST AS GOOD AS US AT! COME WITH ME AND YOU'LL SEE WHAT I MEAN!”

Commissar Steve and his team took off through the corridor of the strike cruiser until they entered a room in which they found a group of giants, all young men and clad in camouflage uniforms not unlike their own, over which they wore heavy carapace armour.

“HERE WE HAVE SOME SPACE MARINE SCOUTS!” Commissar Steve told a vid-capturer and the boom mic, while the other two vid-capturers began traversing the room, observing the young Space Marines. “BEFORE A SPACE MARINE GETS TO WEAR THE POWER ARMOUR OF HIS CHAPTER, HE HAS TO TRAIN AS SCOUT. ONLY THE BEST OF THEM MAKE IT!”

“WHAT'S IT LIKE?” Commissar Steve asked, turning to face a nearby scout.

“Cold.” He replied bitterly. “All the senior battle-brothers get to swan around in heated power armour while we're stuck in a pair of poly-cotton trousers and a shirt that can't keep a breeze out for anything. The worst thing is, they won't even issue us with thermals! Sometimes the weather we face is enough to freeze your progenoids off!”

“I SEE.” Commissar Steve commented as he turned around and ushered his vid-capture crew out of the room. “THERE YOU HAVE IT MEN, SPACE MARINES BEFORE THEY'RE SPACE MARINES. NEXT, WE'LL FIND THE REAL DEAL!”

A short time later, they entered another room, where they did indeed find fully fledged Space Marines. Each was sat in a sturdy chair at a table with a tankard full of a thick red soup. Immediately, a sergeant leapt to his feet and approached the Commissar.

“Good day olde bean!” The marine said jovially. “You've joined us just in time for mid-day brew, care to join us?

“MAYBE NEXT TIME.” Commissar Steve said, not liking the look of the red liquid. “SINCE WE’RE GOING TO BE WORKING TOGETHER, TELL US ABOUT YOURSELVES!”

“Not much to tell really, chaps.” The marine replied. “We're a lazy old bunch, our brothers clear out an objective and then we hold it. Not much to that, nice easy work. Sit around, have a brew or two, shoot at anything that gets too close. Speaking of brews, sure you don't want one?”

Without reply, Commissar Steve turned on his heels and lead the vid-capture team out of the room. Typical Space Marines. This would serve to boost the morale of his men well. Soon, they found a large, cavernous room filled with assault marines. The team stood watching for a few moments as their ears tried to adjust to the constant booming roar the the jump pack engines. They were spotted by a marine, who jumped towards them.

“What's up lads?” He shouted. Commissar Steve explained why his team was aboard and what they were doing. The assault marine shook his head and shouted again. “Ya gotta speak up mate, the jump packs make us a bit mutton Geoff!”

The Commissar held up a hand and shook his head, once again leading his team back into the corridor. A short while later, they found a door that looked promising. It was labelled Death Company. The team entered the room to find it pitch black within. All was quiet, and then the snarling began. Heavy footfalls began to approach. Commissar Steve clenched his fists, readying himself.

“No!” Boomed a voice from behind him. “Bad Death Company! Naughty! Looking at me like that won't do any good! Naughty!

Taken by surprise by the sudden appearance of the Chaplain, the five men were dragged out of the room before they even realised it. The Chaplain looked at Commissar Steve and pointed at the room

“Keep. Out.” The Chaplain commanded, a dangerous tone in his voice. His hands shaking with rage, he stomped off down the corridor to the room where the Tactical Marines were.

“How many times do I have to tell you guys!” He screamed. “ Do not feed the fething Death Company!”

The Chaplain entered the room, and just as the door slid shut, a crashing sound was heard. Commissar Steve and his team decided to continue onwards. In the next room they entered, they found a group of marines dedicated to their target practice.

“THESE, LADIES, ARE VETERAN MARINES.” Steve told the vid-capturer as he watched the shooting. Their groupings were tight, their reactions to the moving targets fast as several rounds slammed into each one that appeared.

"MARINES!" Commissar Steve began boldly. "WHAT DO YOU FEEL AS SHOOT THE ENEMIES OF THE EMPEROR?"

The Sternguard squad stopped their practice shooting and turned to look at the Commissar. There was a pause, then a single veteran answered.

"Recoil."

Commissar Steve and his team left silently, allowing the team to resume their practice. That, Steve thought to himself, was a good answer. Next they found more veterans, this time of the Vanguard variety. One headed towards them, the sound of the jump pack as it approached was mind numbing. As the veteran landed, he began making gestures with his hands. Seeing the look on Commissar Steve and his teams faces, he repeated the gestures, only slower. The facial expressions remained. Sighing, the marine reached into his pouches and withdrew a small notepad and pen, and began to write. He handed it to Commissar Steve who read it aloud.

“WE ARE DEAF.” He said. “THE QUARTERMASTER REFUSES TO ISSUE EARPLUGS!”

Commissar Steve returned the marine his notepad and left the chamber. As his team followed him, he punched through a bulkhead, collapsing it. Twice. Emperor preserve him, there was something about these marines he didn't like.

Moving on, they came to an apothecarium. Inside sat a Sanguinary Priest, who seemed to be having a conversation with his Narcethium. The team stood and listened for a while, the marine seemed oblivious to their presence. He was speaking of the glory of the coming battle. Of how glorious it would be, and how there would be much glory, and that there was much glory to be had.

Making further progress, they found the vehicle hangar. The vid-capture team panned around, recording images of Rhinos, Razorbacks, Predators, Land Speeders, Bikes, Land Raiders and even Storm Ravens! Each of the men with a vid-capture had to do a double-take when they saw the Storm Ravens. Before them stood magnificent flying machines, yet on the displays of their own hardware, the fearsome craft showed up as a mere black shape with the text 'censored' written across it.

“TELL ME,” Commissar Steve said, approaching a Techmarine who was studying a readout. “THE SANGUINE HANDS ARE UNUSUAL FOR A BLOOD ANGELS SUCCESSOR CHAPTER BECAUSE YOUR ARMOUR IS GREEN. WHY DO YOUR VEHICLES HAVE RED ENGINES?

The Techmarine mumbled a response.

“WHAT?” Asked Steve, not having heard the marines answer.

“Red ones,” the Techmarine said, turning his head to look at the Commissar. “Go faster.”

Uncertain if the marine was serious, the Commissar moved on, finding a pair of Furioso Dreadnoughts.

“DREADNOUGHTS!” Steve shouted up at the metal behemoths. “ARE YOU READY TO SERVE THE EMPEROR?!”

The closest Dreadnought turned to face him and gave a simple answer. “We died ready.”

The other Dreadnought let out a moan. “Even in death you still have that sense of humour.”

Commissar Steve was now furious. He remembered why he hated Space Marines. He would find one more group of marines for his documentary, and then he would leave. Now he had to find some Terminators.

Thundering across the length of the huge hanger towards the door at the other end, he left bootprints stamped into floor, such was his rage. Approaching the door however, he found what he was after as it opened to reveal a squad of Terminators.

“Where's our Land Raider?” The lead Terminator asked. “Ya can get fethed if ya think we're walking to the other end of this hanger, have you seen the size of our armour?”

Commissar Steve exploded. Bowling through the Terminators, he sent them sprawling. He wanted to speak to the commanding officer of these marines and give him a piece of his mind. These men were not fit to serve the Emperor. They were not fit to call themselves Astartes.

Storming into the command chamber, vid-capture crew in tow, Commissar Steve rounded upon the Captain and his Librarian.

“Wounding on fives.” Captain Vaultech said, rolling three small red dice. “And three ones, are you sure you aren't cheating Brother-Librarian?”

Before Brother-Librarian Iyanamus could respond, Commissar Steve let out a roar of frustration that shattered every data-screen in the command chamber and put large cracks in the windows looking out over the prow of the strike cruiser. He turned and began to stomp his way back to the Imperial shuttle that had brought him aboard, tearing doors out of their walls as he went.

“FETH THEM ALL! WE'LL GO TO XIFRIA AND FINISH THE CAMPAIGN BEFORE THEY EVEN SHOW UP!” He declared. “I HATE SPACE MARINES! LONG LIVE THE IMPERIAL GUARD!



Back in the command chamber, Vaultech and Iyanamus looked at each other, smirks playing across their faces.

“Do you think it worked?” Iyanamus asked.

“I hope so.” Vaultech responded. “There's nothing worse than having Imperial Guard running around under your feet.

Little did Commissar Steve or Captain Vaultech know, they would be seeing a lot more of each other in the months to come. Somewhere, deep inside the warp, a voice cackled with glee as it spoke.

“Just as planned!”

***

Written from a desire to make a few poor quality bad jokes, and just to write something.

I thought it was really good, i specially enjoyed the tech marines comment on how red vehicles go faster. Nice Promethean reference by the way. its funny all the characters he wrote about, were from a old dark heresy game we played.

darksage wrote:I thought it was really good, i specially enjoyed the tech marines comment on how red vehicles go faster. Nice Promethean reference by the way. its funny all the characters he wrote about, were from a old dark heresy game we played.

Yes, "funny".

fun stuff, good job.

I loved it