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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/01 19:34:11
Subject: Another Attempt at a Short Story - Part 2 added 14/7/12
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Lord of the Fleet
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Prologue 992030.M41 13th Day of Siege (Solar Cycle) Ussini Front Lines Corporal J. Tevitz The local sun rose lazily over the dry wasteland know by the long-dead native population as the Ussini Plateau, casting kilometre-long shadows from the barrels of the Macro Cannon emplacements, now dormant and sleeping after a straight week of firing. Swathes of dust thrown up by shell impacts had been caught by small wind currents and had only now began to settle on the temporary camps established by the Cydonian 7th Regiment of the Hera VII Liberation Forces. Already the dust had caused havoc with various pieces of equipment, with over half the regiment’s armoured elements forced to dismantle their engines to clean the coarse, gritty residue from every crevice, ultimately causing much strain amongst the crews. As the sun crept further over the horizon, a disorderly figure snuck from one of the barrack shelters. Unsteady, half-dressed, and weary from his recent escapade with a rather busty, albeit dim-witted member of the medical staff, Corporal Johann Tevitz made his way through the throngs of vehicle crews, hoping a short-cut through the Manticore yards would allow him to reach his billet before revile. The morning light burnt his tired eyes, the amasec-induced headache made worse by the shouts and curses of a particular crew member demanding why someone had scrawled Peterson’s Compensating for Something to the Deathstrike array that dominated the yard. Little had happened along this edge of the Plateau recently, men had to keep themselves occupied. With over fifteen thousand troops garrisoned along the Ussini, the ample supply of illegal amasec and regimental entertainment could only last so long. Rumours had circulated that a certain Sergeant Yoper had been immediately executed after losing part of a Vanquisher’s targeting system in an unlucky game of Immolation. Tevitz ducked behind a latrine shed as two officers walked past in deep discussion as he took a swig of amasec from his service-issued hip flask. The liquor was unpleasant, dirty with chlorinate salts, yet eased the pain pressing into the inside of his skull. He took a moment to regain his composure as he eased his way into the barrack complex, desperately hoping that the returning regiments hadn’t noticed an empty bunk and raised the alarm. Certain companies, including the 7th, were usually confined to their billets during the night cycle to prevent fights between indigenous gangs within each company. If found, Tevitz risked a three month deployment to the front line, whereas a standard tour only comprised of two weeks. He was in luck: the route to his billet was largely unguarded, the only opposition coming from a rather young lad who Tevitz had distracted with a piece of loose change. Rather pleased with himself, he crept into the room whereby he would wake an hour later under the impression that he had been there the entire night. Upon reaching his bunk, he realised that he was not alone: a lone figure stood at the end of the room, staring at the returning regiments from the plexi-glass figure. Male or female, it was impossible to tell, yet the stiff posture told Tevitz that the figure was aware of his presence. Tevitz also noticed that subduing the person was unlikely judging from the bulky carapace armour poorly disguised by a black robe. Weakly, he decided to play a disguise of innocence, hoping that they weren’t here for him in particular. “Can I help you at all sir?” Tevitz meekly asked. “Corporal Johann Tevitz is it?” Replied the figure, still staring out the window. “Would you care to explain why you are absent from your bunk?” “Sir, I was at the latrine, but I took a while getting back through the vehicle yards due to the commotion.” “Your possessions, did they also take a latrine visit during the night?” “Sir?” The notion that this man was anything other than a high-ranking officer was completely absent. Without looking, Tevitz was also aware of at least two other figures entering the room. “A woman, Medical Officer Lenia I believe, handed your tags into the armoury earlier. While she claimed she had found them, the stench of amasec and Emperor-knows-what told me otherwise.” “Sir, if I may defend myself-“ “No, I do not wish to hear from you any longer. Sergeant?” The figures behind Tevitz moved closer, a low hum indicating that they were armed with at least Hellguns, any attempt to escape would be suicide. “Corporal Johann Tevitz, you are now detained under Commissarial Order 23/Subsection E. You and Medicae Lenia are to be immediately dispatched to the front lines, to serve a minimum of three months consecutive service in the Emperor’s name, after which point you will be assessed for further penal service or return to your regiment. Sergeant Jemail, will you please escort Corporal Tevitz to the waiting Chimera.” Tevitz had long-before stopped listening to the figure, as a muzzle to the small of his back brought him back to reality, brutally forcing him into the compartment of a Chimera, watched only by a few anonymous faces of the returning 53rd Company. Thoughts? I'm hoping that with some refinement, I could continue on the story, maybe turn it into regular updates.
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This message was edited 3 times. Last update was at 2012/07/14 21:35:18
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/02 18:12:19
Subject: Another Attempt at a Short Story
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Lord of the Fleet
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No comments?
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/10 21:34:48
Subject: Another Attempt at a Short Story
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Deathwing Terminator with Assault Cannon
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This belongs in dakka fiction
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DA 4000 points W/L/D 6e 3/2/0
IG 1500 points W/L/D 6e 0/2/0
And 100% Primed! |
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/11 09:26:20
Subject: Another Attempt at a Short Story
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Lord of the Fleet
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My mistake, thanks for mentioning it.
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/13 01:29:55
Subject: Re:Another Attempt at a Short Story
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Been Around the Block
Ft McMurray, AB, Canada
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Pretty good start.
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/14 06:34:34
Subject: Another Attempt at a Short Story
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Mutated Chosen Chaos Marine
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Damn, this is an excellent start. fething makes me feel bad about myself. I mean, in like one paragraph you immediately caught my attention. My gak takes like 20 fething paragraphs to catch someone's attention.
So I guess congrats on writing something awesome.
And feth you.
EDIT: The only real thing I can think of changing is that "now dormant and sleeping" should be "now dormant". So I guess I gave constructive critiscm or something.
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This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2012/07/14 06:35:57
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/14 11:51:49
Subject: Another Attempt at a Short Story
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Terrifying Doombull
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I say, good to read a bit more adult fiction. A jobb well done sir. Keep it comming
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/14 18:48:00
Subject: Another Attempt at a Short Story
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Ultramarine Scout with Sniper Rifle
Chicago, IL
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It was my first read in dakka ficton, I can only hope they are all this enthralling. The hook came early too!
Well done.
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3000+
Successful transactions: WarriorPriest(Multiple) IMRIGHTBEHINDYOU, Jordanis |
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/14 21:32:05
Subject: Another Attempt at a Short Story
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Lord of the Fleet
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Well thank you very much for your positive comments, and spurred on by them, here's Part 2: Three Weeks Later 992030.M41 54th Day of Siege (Solar Cycle) Defence Camp 112, 5km North of Ussini The standards of life changed dramatically if one were able to more easily compare the conditions of the forward defences to that of the barrack complexes. Whereas the barracks held an air of slight relaxation and relief in the times of warfare, the same could not be said for those regiments unfortunate to be stationed along the plateau’s defence lines. As the plateau remained the only possible route throughout the Illian mountain range, defence of the plains was critical to prevent encirclement of the liberation forces. As such, the more relaxed attitude that had greeted Tervitz on arrival to Hera VII was soon lost amongst horrifically tedious drills, endless patrols, with the odd greenskin attack mixed in every couple of days or so. Endless supplies of amasec, obscura and loose women were replaced with drills, punishment details and Commissars who were unlikely to be bribed with small change. After being bundled into the back of the Chimera, Tervitz had lost all sense of time and direction, kept on his knees on the carrier’s floor with two other prisoners, their only similarity to Tervitz being the Hellgun barrel aimed at the back of their skulls. Any form of communication was punished with a blow to the back of the neck. The Arbites officers which greeted them were no less unsympathetic, confiscating Tervitz’ belongings, including a pocket watch which belonged to his late father, as well as his last traces of unauthorised substances. The withdrawal symptoms of several months of constant obscura abuse were only now beginning to lessen, much to Tervitz’ relief. He fought back a retch of bile as he focussed on lowering the cheap military coffin into the light soil. He hadn’t known the boy, barely seventeen Terran years old. All they had known was that he had been dispatched to the penal regiments for stealing provisions, the repeated act resulting in a rather deep knife wound across his spine. Despite the lack of trust and knowledge between members of the regiment, each man held a certain level of mutual respect for each other: they were all equal in (a lack of) rank, and any act of deceitfulness or injustice was responded with brutal vigilantism. He knelt down to smooth the earth over the shallow grave as the makeshift priest offered a mumbled, half-nonsense blessing, barely heard over the Macro Cannons. Two Hours Later… Stationed on watch duty for the next few hours, meant to be watching for enemy action, Tervitz sat quietly to himself in one of the trench outposts, studying a metal locket belonging to the boy he had buried. A cheap trinket, the boy had given it to him in exchange for a high energy ration pack. The metal was dented, rusted along the hinge, and Tervitz carefully worked his combat knife along the mechanism, trying to prise open the delicate piece. A heavy hand on his shoulder brought him out of his obsession, causing the knife to spring off the locket and instead cut into his palm. Uttering a small curse as he sucked on the wound, the bulky from of Leos sat down in the outpost as carefully as a grossly overweight hulk could manage. Friendlier than the other prisoners, Tervitz had taken a liking to Leos after they both escaped from a potential fight with one of the more unstable hive-gangs, undoubtedly Tevitz’ fault. Resting his Lasgun on the dirt walls, Leos pulled out an imitation-choca pack and offered half to Tervitz, who in turn offered Leos a generous swig of amasec from his battered hip flask. It was the same liquor from the morning with Lenia: Tevitz only now noticed a smear of lipstick around the lid. Leos showed no difficulty in swallowing the rotten fluid, despite it being over three weeks old. They ate together in the cramped foxhole, their silence only interrupted by cracks from the vox set, until Leos eventually broke the peaceful dawn: “No luck on that junk then?” He asked, hinting at the locket in Tevitz’ bandaged hand. “Nah, completely rusted shut.” “What about a smack from the Lasgun” “Look at it, it’s cheap. A go with the Lasgun would shatter it. I might be able to get something for it if I can open it, but only if it’s in one piece.” He slipped the locket into his breast pocket as Leos finished the choca pack and began to bite into the second. Bored, he took up the magnoculars and scanned the horizon for anything of interest. A dust cloud there, a wild carrion bird there, but in the distance, a shadow hanging low in the sky. Moving too fast for a bird, there was no doubt that it was an aircraft, although Imperial or greenskin could not be determined. By this time, Leos had joined Tevitz in watching the shadow dart across the sky, before several more appeared and the vox suddenly cracked into life. Idle chit-chat between foxholes was suddenly replaced with questions, targeting confirmation and permission for the Hydra batteries to open fire. “Looks like we’re not needed here anymore” Leos quipped as the pair began to trek back to the trench lines, followed by the ever-growing drone of incoming aircraft.
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This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2012/07/14 21:34:22
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/15 04:31:49
Subject: Another Attempt at a Short Story - Part 2 added 14/7/12
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Ultramarine Scout with Sniper Rifle
Chicago, IL
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Awesome. I cant wait for part 3!!! :-)
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3000+
Successful transactions: WarriorPriest(Multiple) IMRIGHTBEHINDYOU, Jordanis |
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/16 12:19:45
Subject: Another Attempt at a Short Story - Part 2 added 14/7/12
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Lord of the Fleet
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Thanks very much  all comments appreciated.
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2012/07/19 23:23:59
Subject: Another Attempt at a Short Story - Part 2 added 14/7/12
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Lord of the Fleet
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No more comments?
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