Storm Trooper with Maglight
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I wrote this story for my English class several weeks ago, and since it's 40k related, I figured I'd post it somewhere people can read it. This story is 3498 words long, and I am by no means a professional, and I really have no idea about the organization, training, etc... of Kasrkin, so I kind of winged it. Since they are highly trained soldiers, I figured I could get away with showing them as being casual with each other. Anyways, enough dilly-dallying.
Oh, and this is about Kolso, the Kasrkin Sergeant you all can find on my blog for the Cadian 812th Mechanized Grenadiers.
Enjoy (hopefully).
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Whiteshield
The final years of the 41st millennium were the some of the darkest years the Imperium of Man has ever known. The forces of Chaos, full of heretics and daemons who opposed the God Emperor of Mankind, launched a massive assault on the fortress world of Cadia known as the 13th Black Crusade. This crusade was launched by the Warmaster of Chaos, Abbaddon the Despoiler. It is on this besieged homeworld in which our story takes place, just months after the Cadian victory at the horrendous Battle of Tyrok Fields, in the dark future of Mankind...
* * * *
Elias marched with thousands of other children, all of them between the ages of 12 and 18. He himself had been born into the Cadian Infantry Reserves Corps 18 years ago, and Elias now served as a probitor fighting for his besieged home-world of Cadia. Ha! Probitor. That was the official designation for the conscripted "reinforcements" born into regiments of the Imperial Guard. However, that name was rarely used; they were more commonly referred to as "Whiteshields", "probationers", or even "gun babies". Out of all of these, "Whiteshield" was the most well known because of the white stripes painted on their helmets to symbolize their worth as little more than gun fodder, unworthy of rank or designation. All they were was young, enthusiastic meat shields used to protect the real soldiers. They weren't even worth proper training. All they were taught was how to field strip their lasguns and point the end of the weapon away from themselves. After that, they were sent to the combat zones, where they would either learn how to fight or die a very brutal death at the hands of heretics and daemons alike.
Looking up at the horizon, Elias saw the flashes of heavy fighting. No doubt, there would be hundreds of cultists ready to kill more "Imperial Dogs". Somehow, Elias had actually managed to avoid any major fights until today. Funny, how he had fortunate enough to avoid any major conflict for 18 years of his life, and yet now he was being sent to a battle in which he was going to die. The closer he got to the fighting, the more he felt himself panicking. At least Elias knew the location of his imminent demise, and it was, ironically, his father's home city of Kasr Valor. This was no comforting factor, however, and Elias felt himself becoming further unhinged. Oddly enough, it wasn't the prospect of walking to his death that unnerved him.
It was the waiting.
* * * *
Major Axel Roland carefully read the reports of the battle of Kasr Valor, noting the staggering death tolls from their forces. But it wasn't the casualties that interested him; it was the survivors, namely those from the ranks of probitors.
"It's truly amazing that you survived, kiddo," Roland remarked to his guest, a Whiteshield by the name of Kolso.
Kolso was eerily quiet, although Roland had a good idea why. The kid had been through hell and back, and had been one of a handful of survivors from a unit of close to 10,000.
"Your unit was charged with defending Macharius Square, and you led 20 other kids to victory after the enemy murdered the rest of your comrades."
Kolso remained silent, blankly staring at him with cold, violet eyes, the eyes every true Cadian possessed.
Roland leaned back in his chair thoughtfully, examining the boy. Kolso had black hair, which was abnormal for most Cadians, as the majority of the population possessed blonde hair, like Roland. Leaning forward in his chair, Axel spoke to the lad once more.
"Do you have any questions for me?"
Kolso locked eyes with him.
"Who was the damn fool who ordered my friends to their deaths?"
Roland shrugged and leaned back in his chair.
"I can't say for sure. I was not given that information. However, I was given this packet, which has information regarding you.”
"Me?" Kolso inquired, surprise and confusion evident on his face.
"Yes, you. It seems someone found your actions worthy of great praise," Roland explained while handing the parcel to Kolso, who opened it and read the contents.
After a moment, Kolso looked up, perplexed. Roland smiled while voicing the contents of the package.
"Elias Kolso, you have been recruited into the Kasrkin Storm Troopers."
* * * *
Two years had passed, and Kolso still could not believe it. Not only had he survived the battle of Kasr Valor, but he had been recruited into the Kasrkin! The elite storm troopers of the Cadian military, superior to all but the mighty Space Marines! Over the course of the past two years, he had been given training far greater than even the Cadian Shock Troopers, and had learned how to properly use and maintain a variety of weapons. Although he had yet to be assigned to a squad, Kolso was now a fully fledged Kasrkin. Currently, Kolso was cleaning his brand new standard issue Hellgun, verifying that he had made it spotless.
A subtle shift in the atmosphere told him that someone had entered his bunkroom, and Kolso looked up from his cleaning to see one of his instructors, Sergeant Quinton Rennoll. Kolso stood to attention quickly and efficiently, only to be waved "at-ease" by Sergeant Rennoll.
"Alright Kolso, you've finally been assigned to a squad, and you've got your first assignment."
"Who's the squad leader, Sarge?"
"I am. Grab your gear and meet me in the hanger. It's time to bring death to the enemy!"
* * * *
The hanger bay was full of all kinds of transports, mostly atmospheric operators, ones that only operated in the atmosphere of a planet. The steady and deep "thud" of artillery reminded him that there was a war going on outside. Kolso saw Sergeant Rennoll waiting near one of the transports, a Vendetta Assault Carrier identified as Echo-7. Its hull consisted of two top-mounted wings with attached engines, the cockpit (which held space for the pilot, as well as the gunner who sat behind him), and the troop bay, with doors on either side and in the back. The entire hull was painted with an urban camouflage pattern consisting of black and blue-grey. As he approached the squad, he noticed that there were two extra men, neither of which were Kasrkin.
"Ah, Kolso. It's about time you got down here! We were waiting for your sorry ass. We won't do that again. Alright everyone, pile in."
As they climbed into the back of the Vendetta, Kolso recognized one of the newcomers as Major Roland, whom he had last seen 2 years ago. The other one was a Commissar, a political officer whose duty was to issue a summary execution where discipline or the Emperor's faith was lacking. When everyone was settled, the Vendetta began to rumble while Rennoll stood up to address the squad.
"Alright men, I'm sure you're all wondering about our 'guests'. Our first guest is Colonel Roland, one of the officers of the Cadian 812th Mechanized Grenadiers. He is going to be evaluating the squad in action so he can accurately make the decision as to whether or not he will have us become a permanent part of his platoon. This is our second guest, Commissar Jerome von Baasch. He has been assigned to ensure that we follow all orders, and stand our ground. Any questions?"
None were asked. By this time, the Vendetta had taken off and was taking them, presumably, to their objective.
"Very well. Colonel Roland, what's our objective?"
Roland began typing on his wrist-control panel, sending several layout picts to each of the troopers.
"The structure you see is dubbed the Enigma, and it is, by our best guesses, a daemonic relay station. It was built by the enemy several months back, and they are using it as a stronghold and forward command center. As you can see in the picts, it is ringed with all kinds of nasty 'toys' that can turn this carrier into scrap metal. As such, we're going to perform an airborne deployment using grav chutes. Are there any questions so far?"
One of Kolso's squad mates, Revas, piped up.
"Yeah! How in the hell do we get on the damned thing if those guns can shred this carrier? It'll turn us to pulp!"
"I was actually about to get to that. Our dropzone will be a couple klicks south of the actual tower. We will infiltrate the Enigma and blow it up, denying the enemy their forward position. Relatively simple, extremely dangerous."
Commissar von Baasch suddenly spoke up.
"Our ETA is 4 hours. I suggest you all get some rest."
* * * *
The first thing Kolso experienced was a heavy rattling. He figured that it was just turbulence, but a sudden jolt proved him wrong. They were under fire. Heavy fire. Over the chaos, Kolso heard the Sergeant yelling at the Colonel.
"I thought you said we were going to drop off away from heavy fire!"
"I thought we were! The intel must have been incorrect!"
"Should we continue on with the mission, Colonel? We're no use to you if we're dead!"
"Yes! We're going to con-"
The Colonel was cut off by a gunshot midsentence, and the Sergeant collapsed, half of his head gone. The Commissar's bolt pistol was still smoking. The entire squad stared at their sergeant's body in shock. After several tense moments, Roland rounded on the Commissar.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!?"
Commissar von Baasch replied with a cold demeanor.
"Nothing is wrong with me Colonel. I was doing my duty. He spoke of cowardice, I executed him for it. His duty is to serve the Emperor, or die in his service. He was not willing to serve, I gave him the alternative. What's done is done."
The Colonel was about to argue further, when the pilot's voice sounded in the troop bay.
"We're at the drop zone! GO GO GO!"
Everyone put on their grav-chutes, and dove out the back of the Vendetta into the inky blackness below them. Kolso felt strong feelings of hatred manifesting themselves in his mind.
* * * *
Roland landed way off target. He was secluded in the dark trench lines the enemy used to use before they took up residence in the Enigma. He un-slung his shotgun from his back, and chambered the first slug, carefully taking in his surroundings. Roland slowly advanced through the trench lines, trying to find his way back to the squad. The flak lit up the night overhead, the only source of light. In the gloom, Roland saw an armored shape hunkered down ahead of him, and he addressed it.
"Thunder."
"Flash."
Roland breathed a sigh of relief, and approached the Kasrkin. Because of the fully enclosed helmet, he couldn't tell who it was.
"Identify yourself, trooper."
"Kolso."
Roland nodded and looked around.
"Where's the rest of the squad?"
"Scattered."
Roland nodded.
"Figures. If we landed as far off target as we did, everyone else must have as well."
"Agreed."
There was something about Kolso's tone that deeply unnerved Roland, but he shook it off.
"Come on, let's go find them."
The two of them made their way through the dark trenches silently, passing through dark, shoveled out tunnels and moving under metal sheets on wooden frames, sticking to the shadows and keeping a careful eye out for their squad.
* * * *
Kolso kept a close eye on Roland while looking for his squad mates at the same time. While Roland had been clearly angered by the Sergeant's death, Kolso still wasn't sure how the Colonel would react. They turned a corner, and found the rest of the squad gathered around the Commissar.
* * * *
Commissar Jerome von Baasch groaned as he struggled to look up at the Colonel and the other trooper. He had been wounded before the jump, a piece of shrapnel embedding itself in his lung. Fighting the pain, he forced himself to stand and greet the Colonel when he noticed something...peculiar. The trooper that accompanied Roland was approaching him at a brisk pace, and he was almost certain that the trooper was simply moving to join with his squad mates. However, he realized too late what the Kasrkin's true intentions were.
* * * *
Roland could not believe what he was seeing. They entered into the command dugout and found the rest of the squad. The Commissar was badly injured, but managed to pull himself up. And that's when Kolso advanced.
* * * *
Kolso relished the moment of surprise on the Commissar's face when he rammed his combat knife into his stomach. Before a single noise could be made by the Commissar, Kolso's knife found its way into his neck, a killing blow. The Commissar fell lifelessly to the ground. He knew that he should feel remorse, but somehow, he just couldn't bring himself to it. Back when he was a Whiteshield, he would have been horrified by what he had just done. However, Kolso had been trained to be a cold-blooded killing machine. Besides, why should he care? Political officers were pompous fools who didn't care who lived or who died. All they cared about was their "duty" to the Emperor. That's when it struck him. Commissar von Baasch was doing what he thought was right, his duty to the Empero-
No, von Baasch deserved everything he got, duty or not. There was no need to justify that. Removing his helmet, Kolso spit upon the Commissar's body.
"Bastard."
It was then that he realized the weapons trained on him.
* * * *
Roland was tempted to give the order to fire. Really tempted. But something about the way Kolso acknowledged the order for his comrades to train their weapons on him made Roland hesitate. Reluctantly, Roland raised the question that he was certain he knew the answer to.
"Explain yourself Kolso. Why did you kill the Commissar?"
A chuckle.
Roland narrowed his eyes.
"Answer me, Kolso."
After a brief moment, Kolso finally answered.
"He deserved it, Colonel. He was an arrogant fool who was incapable of using us to our full potential. Our Sergeant asked a valid question and got shot for it! Killing those who ask valid questions is not a good way to lead an army, much less a squad. And whenever you kill a member of a highly trained unit who has yet to see action, that does no good for morale.
"So you are willing to kill an incompetent commanding officer?"
Kolso shrugged.
"Depends on how incompetent they are."
Roland looked around at the rest of the Kasrkin, then ordered them to stand down. He was going to regret this. As Kolso started to relax, Roland spoke up.
"I wouldn't relax if I were you Kolso. There's something you need to know if I decide to bring your squad into the Grenadiers."
Kolso cocked his head.
"And what's that?"
Roland sighed. He was definitely going to regret this, but he knew it had to be done. Although Kolso had just murdered a senior officer, Roland felt that he was still redeemable, no matter how much the incident had unnerved him. Taking in a breath of reassurance in the face of this cold-blooded killer, he spoke the truth he had hidden for 2 years.
"It was me, Kolso. I ordered the attack on Kasr Valor."
He could see that Kolso was shocked. However, that shock quickly transformed into ange-no, hatred. Kolso leveled his Hellgun with Roland's face, and spoke with a voice shaking with anger.
"Give me one good reason not to kill you here and now."
Roland took a deep breath, and spoke as calmly as he could.
"Kolso, the city of Kasr Valor was a foothold we desperately needed. The only way we could have hoped to take the city was to drown the enemy under as many bodies as we could. And that's what we did...what I ordered. I understand that you hate me right now, but I was following my own orders, like you were following yours. I was ordered to take the city at any cost, and that's what I did. I even led my own men personally to reinforce your position. If you are a man of honor, then you must also know this truth; I saved your life. I may have doomed your unit to their deaths, but that experience hardened you. Toughened you. This doesn't change what I did, but my actions have made you who you are today."
Roland paused, examining the clearly conflicted Kolso. After a few moments, he resumed again, drawing his plasma pistol.
"Now that that's been said, you may proceed with your attempt to kill me..."
Roland leveled his pistol with Kolso's temple.
"...but that would be unwise."
Kolso suddenly resumed his combat stance, taking aim at Roland's head...but did not pull the trigger. His face contorted from the conflicting emotions, "kill the bastard who ordered my friends to their deaths" or "spare my savior"? Several tense moments passed, before Kolso lowered his weapon, and Roland spoke up again.
"As much as I would like to, Kolso, I am not going to report this to command. You have the makings of a great leader, not because you are capable of murder, but because you care more for your brothers in arms than the chain of command. True leaders care about their men."
Kolso simply nodded. As he packed away his sidearm, Roland felt a huge burden lifting from his shoulders. He had had to deal with trooper killing Commissars before. As stressful as this particular experience was, the incident was not uncommon. The 812th Mechanized Grenadiers actually operated entirely without Commissars due to the frequency of "friendly fire". The sound of Kolso's chuckling snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Do you have something to add, Kolso?"
"Yeah. The universe has strange sense of humor. Who would have thought that the officer who ordered my friends to their doom was not as incompetent as I had previously thought?"
Roland chuckled at the thought as well, not quite sure if that was a compliment.
"Yeah, who'd have thought?"
The Kasrkin known as "Revas" wandered over near the Commissar's body while Kolso approached Roland to shake his hand.
"So Colonel, what now?"
The Colonel looked over at Revas.
"It looks like you're going to be needing a new squad leader. Who's the next highest rank?"
Revas shrugged, and said "I don't know. I think we were all the same rank for the most part. We are a brand new squad, we haven't exactly done anything worthy of promotion yet."
As they finished shaking hands, Kolso locked eyes with Roland.
"Is our mission still valid, sir?"
Roland shrugged.
"As far as I know, it's still valid. It would take something that prevents us from completing the mission to render it invalid."
One of the other troopers, Cath, quickly spoke up.
"Like that?"
Everyone looked over to the Enigma, and saw an orbital bombardment from the Imperial Navy pounding it into dust.
Kolso chuckled, and said "Looks like the Navy got impatient with us slow ass ground pounders not taking it out."
Roland shook his head.
"So much for judging the unit."
* * * *
10 Years later
* * * *
Kolso looked back on that day and laughed. As he had suspected, the Navy had gotten fed up with the slow work the Kasrkin offered, and had opted to simply bombard it after all. Why wait for the slow ground pounders? In a sense, it was ironic because his squad had gone through all of that trouble for nothing. Kolso simply chalked that up to the general incompetence of Imperial High Command.
Kolso looked around the trench line he and his men occupied, all of them waiting for his command to charge. Roland, as he promised, had decided not to report the incident with the Commissar, instead writing him up as K.I.A. No one would miss a political officer. Kolso's squad had, in the end, been chosen by Roland, and they had plenty of opportunities to prove themselves. Kolso had been chosen by his squad mates to lead, so Roland promoted him to Lieutenant. Kolso was now a battle hardened veteran, and served as Roland's second in command as well as being his best friend. Personally, Kolso never would have guessed that he would become best of friends with the man who had gotten his fellow Whiteshields killed, or that he would have ever become an effective Kasrkin. Who knew you could get this far by murdering a political officer? Kolso looked at his men one last time before leading them to glorious battle, side by side with his good friend and the rest of the 812th Mechanized Grenadiers.
"For the honor of Cadia!"
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Fire Fire fixes everything 
