Longtime Dakkanaut
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Hey everyone.
Im a big reader of all kinds of novels, but on the most part a read SF. So much so that over the last few years i have read on average one book every 2 weeks or so.
Iv always been interested in creative writing and the 40k universe, so over the last few days iv been thinking about a decent storyline that firstly, hasn't already been done. Secondly, wouldn't upset the fluff trolls and most importantly, would make a good read.
So i think i may have come up with something interesting. Ill post the first chapter as a kinda toe dipping exercise. And give you an idea of where the story may go but without giving it away.
Im thinking of incorporating the homosapian-novus, star child and Thorian backgrounds into an up to date addition to the fluff that doesn't counter any of the original stuff.
Anyways,
Heres the toe dip i was talking about, i wrote it this afternoon. i haven't proofed it and it needs more refinement/body. But you get the idea.
Novus Aevum
Chapter 1
‘Run you dammed fool!’ Shouted Edon as he sprinted around the corridors furthest corner, having to duck at the last second to avoid almost cracking his skull on the curved decorative gothic bulkhead that ran at perfectly precices intervals along the subterranean corridor.
The corridor ran the full length of the Ecclesiarchy complex, and although it was a lesser-known service tunnel it was constantly partoled by chapel guards, foot troops of the Ecclesiarchy.
‘I said RUN Golan, move your feet! lest you want to be interrogated by are cousins of the priesthood’. Edon didn’t stop to pull his accomplice with him. He thought instead that if young Golan didn’t heed his warning then he would never progress further than an interrogator. He was only passing on the knowledge that his master had passed on to him many long years before.
‘The Emperor helps those who help themselves’.
To Edon’s satisfaction, Golan was already in full sprint by the time his pursuers had rounded the same corner he had had to negotiate only moments before. And to his increased satisfaction, one of the pursuing guards neglected to duck. Being sandwiched between three other of his comrades, he hadn’t seen the bulkhead until it had put him on his back. The guards legs appeared to just keep going and come out from under him, where as his head stayed exactly where it had hit the metal work. That is until his head and body were almost perpendicular to the ground, at which point he fell heavy and lifeless. This clumsy mistake had not only brought down the sandwiched man but also the two chapel guards following behind. Both the men were sent sprawling across the floor, dropping their ornate power mauls to the ground in showers of electrified sparks and letting slip their side arms, so that they span away across the cold smooth marble tiled floor.
The scene was almost comical, three guards lay in a heap. Their burgundy and gold braided ornamental uniforms in a crumpled pile on the floor.
Now there were only two left in the pursuit, easily dealt with. Just a little projection of his will could turn the most strong willed of men on each other. But that was the problem. Edon had tried that only minutes before this comical pursuit. He had stood in font of the guard point in his chapel caretakers disguise, and when asked to produce his identification, he had attempted to use his psykic skill to persuade the checkpoint officer that what he had in his hand was not just a scrap of parchment he had liberated from an unlocked store room just down the corridor where he had left Golan to stand guard in the shadows and keep him appraised of any subsequent ‘enemy’ movements.
Instead, he stood there in silence for what felt like an age, although it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. In those few seconds he had considered his options and what had gone so wrong. Then his saw it, at first glance it was an apparently inconsequential trinket hanging from a delicately make chain of silver and gold around the guards neck. The trinket was that of a golden imperial eagle, the likes of which is seen all over the Imperium. It hung in a triangular outlined frame of silver no bigger than two finger spans in diameter; this isn’t what had caught his attention though. Each guard was wearing an identical necklace, and now that he was up-close it was easier to make out the delicately intricate circuitry written across it surface.
What a fool, what a fool he had been. This kind of mistake was the way Inquisitors like the whitch he himself wanted to be, found there names added to their ordos annuals of the glorious dead. How had he missed it, it made perfect sense in hindsight. The Ecclesiarchy hates psykers, why wouldn’t they equip their chapel guards with psykic inhibitors.
By now the guard officer behind the check point was becoming suspicious. He knocked Edon’s out thrust parchment clutching hand away, with his and pulled Edon closer by the collar of his caretakers overalls.
‘What is this, some kind of joke? Show me your papers now or prepare to be punished for you infraction’
With this the five other guards stiffened as if ready to prosecute their commanders threats.
Edon, put on his best weak stammering voice and replied.
‘T-t-t-terribly sorry mi lord, I must have gotten my pockets mixed up’.
It was the oldest ploy in the book, but apparently these idots hadn’t done much reading. Edon reached into his inside pocket with his free hand, took a small step back, produced a tiny las pistol and shot the officer point blank right between the eyes. The shot was of such small yield that it only left the smallest of holes, no blood ran from it as the heat of the shot had cauterized the wound instantly. The guards body stood there for several seconds unaware that it was already dead.
This simple set of actions had taken but the fraction of a second, giving no time for the remaining guards to react. In fact the guards seemed to be so shocked by the action that they had been stunted into pale statues of themselves. Edon would have happily gunned down the other four men, but the weapon in his hand was a one shot needler of exquisite manufacture. Designed to be so small it could go almost undetected save for the most rigorous of searches, but this required a compromised ammunition capacity.
So he ran. Just as the officers body hit the floor. He ran. Not quite the escape he had planned or envisioned. He was reminded yet again of something his master had taught him.
‘Know when you’re your defeated Edon, know when to stand and when to run. It may not seem dignified or glorious, but always remember, those that run live to fight another day’
And if Golan had done his part right they would still be able to escape without too much problem.
The guards didn’t stand statue for long, in fact they gave chase sooner than Edon had expected from Ecclesiarchy troops.
As Edon and Golan reached their escape point, a hatch leading onto one of the busy hive streets that surrounded the Ecclesiarchy complex. The remaining guards still in pursuit of the fleeing pair shouted their demands to ‘halt’ and ‘stop’ in the name of the Ecclesiarchy’. But their voices were soon over powered, Golan turn sharply facing the guards only meters away, he held out a small inconspicuous black box. Atop of which was affixed a single silver toggle switch, unguarded by its little red safety jacket. The guards stopped in their tracks surprised at the fleeing man audacity. They both had their side arms drawn, las pistols of a standard template but painted a deep burgandy and finished in gold to match their uniforms. But before they could come to their wits and run Golan through with las rounds, he flicked the toggle forwards.
The remaining pursuers suddenly and almost instantaneously disappeared in an avalanche of plasteel reinforce rocreat and debis.
‘Good night gentleman, it really was a pleasure’
‘Well done Golan’ said Edon “now can we please leave the embarrassing debacle behind us’
‘ yes of course ‘Inquisitor’, certainly’
Dear old Golan, Edon thought to himself. He always did have a flair for the dramatic. And look where that got him. Dead now for 63 years, he never did get confirmation on exactly how his old friend had met his demise, but he had always thought it was something to do with his dramatic flair. For some reason that was a comforting thought.
Edon was not cut from the same cloth of his former accomplice, where Golan was charismatic he was pragmatic and where Golan was ‘unsubtle’ Edon was discrete. ‘Not much had changed’ whispered Edon quietly to himself.
‘Inquisitor Edon?’
‘Yes?’
‘What hasn’t changed?’ Questioned the warrior seated across from him. The warrior’s voice seemed to resonate inside the dry re-circulated air fill confines of the Aquarius Lander they had requisitioned to take them off world.
Edon looked up from his data slate weary with the information that had been rested upon him by his superiors. He looked up at the warrior guardian with a look of aw, clad in his bespoke amour of gleaming silver and gold. The warrior’s plate was unlike any he had seen before, but its similarities with the Astartes and Grey knights could be clearly seen as if it had been the first and all other power amours were a artless derivative.
‘Nothing of import’ he replied. ‘Apologies but what should I address you as? For I fear using your full name would be problematic’
‘all changes are of import inquisitor, but you may address me as Custode Aledarius Marret’
Any comments, criticisms or thoughts would be welcome
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