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Made in ca
Longtime Dakkanaut






Toronto

Or he could have the Space Marine die in order to destroy the Tau force, that would be reasonable. Aren't all Space Marine stories about victory with a massive sacrifice?

Adepta Sororitas: 3,800 Points
Adeptus Custodes: 8,100 Points
Adeptus Mechanicus: 8,400 Points
Alpha Legion: 4,400 Points
Astra Militarum: 7,500 Points
Dark Angels: 16,800 Points
Imperial Knights: 12,500 Points
Legio Titanicus: 5,500 Points
Slaaneshi Daemons: 3,800 Points
 
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Papua New Guinea

There's definitely more to come after they get to the HQ. I'll probably try and get another post up tonight as I got a bit of an idea for it after reading yesterday's comments.

Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

Show me your god and I'll send you a warhead because my god's bigger than your god.
 
   
Made in gb
Mighty Vampire Count






UK

Another great chapter - I do like the idea of her becoming a loyal serf - or maybe, some time in the future - an Inquisitor -

I AM A MARINE PLAYER

"Unimaginably ancient xenos artefact somewhere on the planet, hive fleet poised above our heads, hidden 'stealer broods making an early start....and now a bloody Chaos cult crawling out of the woodwork just in case we were bored. Welcome to my world, Ciaphas."
Inquisitor Amberley Vail, Ordo Xenos

"I will admit that some Primachs like Russ or Horus could have a chance against an unarmed 12 year old novice but, a full Battle Sister??!! One to one? In close combat? Perhaps three Primarchs fighting together... but just one Primarch?" da001

www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/528517.page

A Bloody Road - my Warhammer Fantasy Fiction 
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Papua New Guinea

I have a tendency to shoot my favourite characters in the face or immolate them so, who knows what will happen... ha!

Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

Show me your god and I'll send you a warhead because my god's bigger than your god.
 
   
Made in us
Master Shaper




Gargant Hunting

In one story I made awhile back I made a character get his arm ripped off by a daemon, and then beaten to death with said limb, just to prove a point to a rookie in the story that Chaos is dangerous. Bit of a shame, character had potential.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2015/05/06 23:53:00


Irishpeacockz-Blackjack needs a pay raise for being the welcomer to the crusade
Palleus-Write a school essay about Kroot! Pride. Prejudice. And Cannibalsim. 
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Papua New Guinea

Miss Foster runs to Ashney when she sees the blood. She asks the child if she is alright but Ashney tries to pull away. That's when the teacher sees the gun in Ashney's hand.

"What's this? Why do you have a gun Ashney? This is very dangerous. Please, give it to me." She goes for the weapon but the girl pushes her away much more forcefully than the teacher anticipates and they begin tugging on the gun. When it goes off I am not surprised. The bullet hits the tarmac and zooms away with long twang. The sudden bang causes Miss Foster to burst into tears.

"A warrior needs a real weapon! This one is mine!" The girl screams, her face red with anger. She backs up a few steps and Miss Foster looks up and sees me.

"You. What did you do!?" She is on her arse on the road but launches herself at me, one shoe coming off as she does. Her fists beat on my chest.

"You have some fight in you after all Miss Foster."

"You monster! She's just a little girl! She's not a fighter, not a, a warrior! What did you do!?"

"I did nothing. She fought for her life and won. She killed an enemy of the Imperium."

"She's just a child. Why didn't you protect her? Why!?" She hits me some more and makes her knuckles bloody. I hold her arms to stop her hurting herself further.

"She has been baptised by the blood of traitors! She is a warrior of the Emperor now." I haul Miss Foster up by one forearm until her eyes are level with mine. Her legs kick several feet above the ground. "If you hope to live much longer you will need to join her." My voice is a growling rumble of static laced menace. "Your old life is over. Let it go and I will be the angel who guides you to the next life. Defy me and I will be the demon who tears your soul apart!" I put my free hand under the pit of her other arm and then transfer my grip to her throat. I hold her enough so that she does not hang but I grip her tightly, her face reddens, eyes bulge. "Your choices are very simple: kill or be killed. Accept the Emperor into your heart as Ashney has done, or," And I tilt her around so she can see the sprawled bodies in the street. "Join them."

I set her down gently and brush my thumb up and across her cheek to ease the pressure from her throat. With my other hand I brush the backs of my fingertips through her hair, gently, so as not to aggravate her wounds. "I am trying to save you but I cannot do that if you resist." She puts her hands on my wrists and looks up.

"Save me? For what?"

"For the Emperor."

"I just don't understand." A single, soul deep sob, brings fresh tears. One runs down the side of my thumb and down to my wrist. I watch it drip to the floor. "I don't understand." She says again and her voice is hollow.

"You do not need to understand Miss Foster. Have faith. Serve the Emperor and everything will be as it should be." I kneel down so that her eyes look into mine. "Family, friends, possessions. Your life; these things are an illusion. Your fear of losing them cages you, binds your soul in fetters that will destroy you if you do not let go. You must choose to be free, to unshackle your soul from impermament things and embrace the Emperor, for only He is eternal. Pledge yourself to Him and He will be your guardian, your shield, your protector, your strength and your answer and in return the Emperor asks only one thing of you: kill His enemies."

I stand again and release the woman. Miss Foster is not a child like Ashney whose mind is free of knowledge and free to accept the Emperor. Miss Foster has lived a life and more than that, a life spent imparting knowledge, of questioning the world and her place in it and encouraging others to do the same. But to question is to doubt and to doubt is to open the gates to all of the vile and perverse things in this universe. To safeguard the soul one must never doubt, never question, only obey. Serve the Emperor, kill His enemies. These are the things that a Space Marine knows and that is knowledge enough.

I hear the approaching engine before any of the humans around me. More enemies are coming. I hear the marines getting up, getting ready. I hear the slide of Ashney's pistol, hear the hammer draw back. Even as bullets whine around me I keep my eyes on Miss Foster. Her head turns slowly to face the soldiers bearing down on us. Her dull eyes do not blink for long moments and when they finally do, I see a light kindle there. I see the first spark of hatred. I step behind the teacher, and rub my hand up the back of her neck and onto her skull. I lean forward to whisper in her ear.

"Serve the Emperor, kill His enemies."

I reach around and put my knife into her hands. With my left hand I grip her wrists and raise them up so that the knife flashes in the sunlight. I point to first one soldier with the blade and then another. I raise my bolter in my right hand.

"Which one Miss Foster. Choose."

"That one."

She looks down the spine of the knife and watches as my bolt punches through the primitive flak vest of the soldier, watches as the mass reactive detonates and sprays bloody flesh over his comrades.

"Serve the Emperor, Kill His enemies."

I let her go and she totters forwards, like a baby learning to walk. Then she takes a few more steps and then a few more and soon she is running. I take down two more soldiers in order to get Miss Foster into their midst but after that her fate is in the Emperor's hands. I move forwards and the marines join me. Ashney stands in the middle of the road, cradling the pistol like a rifle, the recoil shaking her entire body with each shot.

The marine's shout and call out orders, they whoop and scream and I add my battlecry to theirs.

"For the Emperor!"
   
Made in us
Master Shaper




Gargant Hunting

Beautiful, he now has his own militia, and another great installation. Nice to see Foster actually doing something useful (for the IoM, anyway)

Irishpeacockz-Blackjack needs a pay raise for being the welcomer to the crusade
Palleus-Write a school essay about Kroot! Pride. Prejudice. And Cannibalsim. 
   
Made in us
Master Shaper




Gargant Hunting

Beautiful, he now has his own militia, and another great installation. Nice to see Foster actually doing something useful (for the IoM, anyway)

Irishpeacockz-Blackjack needs a pay raise for being the welcomer to the crusade
Palleus-Write a school essay about Kroot! Pride. Prejudice. And Cannibalsim. 
   
Made in ca
Stormin' Stompa






Ottawa, ON

Carleeson is getting pretty physical with the teacher, will he do some foot rubs next ?

Ask yourself: have you rated a gallery image today? 
   
Made in gb
Mighty Vampire Count






UK

Great work - very impresive

I AM A MARINE PLAYER

"Unimaginably ancient xenos artefact somewhere on the planet, hive fleet poised above our heads, hidden 'stealer broods making an early start....and now a bloody Chaos cult crawling out of the woodwork just in case we were bored. Welcome to my world, Ciaphas."
Inquisitor Amberley Vail, Ordo Xenos

"I will admit that some Primachs like Russ or Horus could have a chance against an unarmed 12 year old novice but, a full Battle Sister??!! One to one? In close combat? Perhaps three Primarchs fighting together... but just one Primarch?" da001

www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/528517.page

A Bloody Road - my Warhammer Fantasy Fiction 
   
Made in ca
Longtime Dakkanaut






Toronto

Yes! This is like General FitzGibbon at the Battle of Beaver Dams!

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2015/05/09 11:47:03


Adepta Sororitas: 3,800 Points
Adeptus Custodes: 8,100 Points
Adeptus Mechanicus: 8,400 Points
Alpha Legion: 4,400 Points
Astra Militarum: 7,500 Points
Dark Angels: 16,800 Points
Imperial Knights: 12,500 Points
Legio Titanicus: 5,500 Points
Slaaneshi Daemons: 3,800 Points
 
   
Made in gb
Esteemed Veteran Space Marine




Sheppey, England

... and so was founded the order of the Schoolma'ams of Battle.

Praise the Emperor, for He is our Principal.

Click for a Relictors short story: http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/412814.page

And the sequels HERE and HERE

Final part's up HERE

 
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Papua New Guinea

Thanks for the replies fellas

I don't suppose you can accurately convey a psychological breakdown in a few sentences but that's what I was going for with Foster although I had in mind that some of it was what was done to Carleeson as an initiate.

Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

Show me your god and I'll send you a warhead because my god's bigger than your god.
 
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Papua New Guinea

I was never afraid of physical violence. I have vague recollections before my initiation of being nervous of the consequences but the instinct was always there, the instinct to settle a difference not with a word but a fist. I can no-longer picture her face, only the hint of her features, but I recall my grandmother saying she laughed when I tried to throttle a cousin for taking a toy because she would never have believed a child so young could know to do such a thing.

As an initiate I remember many of the other aspirants being afraid. They were afraid of fighting, they were afraid of being hurt and of hurting another. But for me, it was the first time in my life that I felt free.

As a scout I exulted in the power my new body endowed me. I was still consumed with the petty dreams of my old life and to see them fulfilled was the greatest joy. To be so much stronger than an ordinary man, to be so much more resilient. You cannot know what it is like to see every punch snap bones, pulp flesh, to kill whilst every blow against you is like the caress of a butterfly's wings. Pinch the skin on your elbow as hard as you can and then imagine that is how even a hammer blow against your skull would feel.

I had forgotten what it felt like to exult in my power. That has changed now because of the woman and the children. It was my destiny to become a Space Marine because I never felt as other men feel but I have been so long in the company of my Brothers that I had forgotten that. I had forgotten how weak humans are. It has nothing to do with their muscle power or their skills or their training. They are weak because they fear violence. Even the so called 'marines' fear it. Their training has focussed their fear, given them skills and tactics with which to overcome it but were they not running when I first encountered them? They were not falling back, they were running. They encountered a foe stronger than them and they ran in fear. And after, they threatened an injured woman, and a mere teacher of children at that, as if somehow that could mask their inherent weakness.

These people think that raising families in peace is the purpose of life, and afterwards, what is war? War is a monster to be unleashed or caged as absolutely necessary in order to protect or enrich those families. That is why they fear it but it is not the cause of their fear. Their fear is soul deep. They can mask it, channel it they may even overcome it but they can never banish it and everything they do, everything they believe is built on fear. A Space Marine knows no fear and it is true, I have never been afraid. Only the girl, Ashney, shows any promise and I knew it from the first moment I tasted her scent on the breeze. My little shadow, such a shame she can never be Astartes.

Bullets thump into the grille of the armoured transport and flames lick up from the bonnet, tentative fingers that reach out for the gunner stood in a cupola above the driver's cab. The flames are almost transparent, tiny ribbons of colour that flicker up his torso, onto his arms. He doesn't start screaming until they reach his throat. I put a boot into the left corner of the vehicle, the headlights shatter clear glass and their wireframe shield hangs loose by a single rivet. The truck shunts back, the driver gunning the engine, trying to turn to ram me. I put my fist through his window and drag him out and he lands with a crunch on the spread of flickering granules of glass.

I ignore him and put one foot onto the front wheel and lift myself up, the suspension dips under my weight. The vehicle's mounted gun is some kind of heavy stubber, drum fed, large calibre with a perforated air-cooled barrel shroud. I rip it free and snap off the trigger guard so I can get my finger in place. I empty the weapon into the fleeting forms of the enemy and then toss the gun away. Across the back of my calf I feel a sensation like a nail dragged across my skin, my armour's systems translating the knife attack from the driver. I drop back down off the transport and club the driver with my boltgun, his face tears away like wet paper.

I dig my fingers into his belly and rip him apart like an overripe fruit and throw the pieces at his comrades. Makorro's helmet vox increases its volume to full as I bellow my rage. My arm twitches as I consider going for my knife before I remember I gave it to Miss Foster. I wade into the nearest soldiers with my fists, ceramite gauntets knocking apart fragile human bodies like blocks of warm lard. I pick one up by the back of the head and ram her skull into the MkV, crushing her face to jelly. My grip turns limbs to mush, my backhands snap necks, boots crush legs, feet pulp torsos, vox howls so loud they burst eardrums. They are running! As fast as they are I have stride length a third again as much as theirs. The first of them I barge into a wall, crushing him dead, and the others I grab and throw over my shoulder like a terrier with a rat. I kick their corpses apart for running from me.

Four marines and seven children left. Faces are waxy, pale. They stink. Dright is still alive, I jerk my chin up in his direction.

"You, how far to Westow?"

"Three blocks." He swallows, wipes a hand down the side of his race and stares up the road. I see one or two survivors still running, jogging to a halt at the next junction as they reach more of their forces moving up. Another transport skids to a halt. "No way are we gonna make it man. No way..."

I eye the transport behind me, the occasional flame still peeks out from under the bonnet. Time for some Obvious Tactics. I drag tha machine around to face back up the street and lash the wheel in place. I lean into the driver's bay and use one hand to press the clutch down and slip the gear stick into neutral. I eye the body of the female trooper whose skull I crushed; her blood still drips from Makorro's helmet.

"Miss Foster." The woman looks at me, her eyes filmy and distant for a moment. She looks stronger to me than before, as if the brief moments of combat have melted the fat from her frame, revealing the lean muscle beneath. "Take her boots and her weapons." I say pointing at the body lying on it's belly. Miss Foster sits in the dirt and picks the laces undone and slips the boots onto her feet. Strange, to watch her do that, pulling the laces tight and rapping them once around the back of her legs before double knotting them. She takes the rifle, a pistol, the webbing and quickly gears up.

"You four and Miss Foster," I say, indicating the marines. "You wait until I am a quarter of the way to the enemy, then follow, use as many grenades as you can. Children, you will follow after but do not linger, we are going to punch through their centre and keep moving until we reach the marine base. Gather weapons, shoot anything that moves and do not stop, if you fall behind, you die. Ave Imperator!"

There is no time for further discussion. I begin to push the transport, picking up speed as I go. The bullets start to hit the vehicle almost instantly, glass shatters and the fire eating the engine slowly, pops the bonnet free with a dry cough. I hear them screaming orders and the bullets hitting the vehicle start to spang off the road as they aim for the tires but the fools pop both almost simultaneously and apart from a brief wobble I remain on course, wheel hubs squealing as rubber shreds away.

The first grenade detonates moments before the tattered transport slams into its opposite. The impact knocks the gunner back into the cab but I send a burst of bolts that kill the gunner and driver both. I do not stop, shooting down any soldier I see. I draw most of the fire but there is no confusing the pitiful squeals of children as they are gunned down. They are dieing behind me but their fates are in the Emperor's hands.

Two junctions down I can now see that every building has been demolished and the rubble pushed back into a defensive line, the road sandbagged, barb wired and blocked with tank traps. I stop and turn, the fighting now only behind me. I lay down as much cover fire as I can as what is left of the humans that follow me sprint to safety. A hundred feet back down the road, at the last junction, I see one of the female marines is captured. Four of the enemy have hold of her, a limb each, but she fights like a hellion and manages to kick one onto his arse. I consider putting a bolt into her for expediency but shift my aim and take down one of her assailants.

The other two go down quickly after but not at my hand. Behind me, manning two watch towers, marine snipers have joined in. I wait until the woman catches up, her face swollen with bruises. In the road a small tank has appeared and its contribution sees the Kesslin soldiers finally fall back, but not far and I feel certain they will overcome their reluctance to assault the marine base very soon.

Three marines and five children. Miss Foster carries one of them in her arms. I give thanks to the Emperor that we have reached this place, I will no longer be burdened with these humans and can leave this pathetic sideshow behind me, enough of my time has been wasted on the dregs that linger here as it is.
   
Made in us
Master Shaper




Gargant Hunting

I really liked the mentioning of his time as a scout, nice bit of insight into the character.

Irishpeacockz-Blackjack needs a pay raise for being the welcomer to the crusade
Palleus-Write a school essay about Kroot! Pride. Prejudice. And Cannibalsim. 
   
Made in gb
Mighty Vampire Count






UK

Just brilliant writing

I AM A MARINE PLAYER

"Unimaginably ancient xenos artefact somewhere on the planet, hive fleet poised above our heads, hidden 'stealer broods making an early start....and now a bloody Chaos cult crawling out of the woodwork just in case we were bored. Welcome to my world, Ciaphas."
Inquisitor Amberley Vail, Ordo Xenos

"I will admit that some Primachs like Russ or Horus could have a chance against an unarmed 12 year old novice but, a full Battle Sister??!! One to one? In close combat? Perhaps three Primarchs fighting together... but just one Primarch?" da001

www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/528517.page

A Bloody Road - my Warhammer Fantasy Fiction 
   
Made in ca
Longtime Dakkanaut






Toronto

Brilliant! Man, the centuries of arrogance have really made a mark on that guy!

Adepta Sororitas: 3,800 Points
Adeptus Custodes: 8,100 Points
Adeptus Mechanicus: 8,400 Points
Alpha Legion: 4,400 Points
Astra Militarum: 7,500 Points
Dark Angels: 16,800 Points
Imperial Knights: 12,500 Points
Legio Titanicus: 5,500 Points
Slaaneshi Daemons: 3,800 Points
 
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Papua New Guinea

He's angry and he likes it! I was originally thinking about him saying that all the killing blurred, that he'd moved well beyond what a boy, in a space marine body, would feel. Didn't quite get it in there but I hope it came across in the more oblique sentences.

I think it was almost necessary to have him recall his time as a scout, even briefly, as that's one of the chief aspects of the Chapter, that they are very memory focussed, it's only the things beforehand which can have possibility of being forgot.

I've been reading Tallarn: Executioner and one sentence gave me an idea for the next post so, there's still plenty to come.

Thanks for reading and the comments!

Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

Show me your god and I'll send you a warhead because my god's bigger than your god.
 
   
Made in gb
Devastating Dark Reaper




Hampshire, England

Love it. Great job so far

I'm impatiently waiting for the next chapter of the story

Over 4000 points of Eldar goodness  
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Papua New Guinea

The Headquarters occupies approximately twenty square acres, a rough oval surrounded by a wall of rubble fifteen feet high. At various points around the perimeter are wooden sentry towers but I see that each is enclosed by a shimmering energy field; the roof of each topped by a smaller mushroom-headed device that must be the projector. Each tower is equipped with a large weapon of a type unknown to me, but, given the Tau's air superiority in this area, it is not unreasonable to surmise that each weapon is far more deadly than its sleek profile would suggest.

The Headquarters compound itself is hidden behind a wall of steel cages filled with rough blocks of stone. Ordinarily it would be a primitive defence but I see more of the energy field emitters and automated turrets as well. Two solid metal gates provide access, each one withdrawing swiftly along runners embedded in the ground. I am not prepared for the gate's operator however.

"What is this?" I say, bringing my bolter to bear.

"It's just a Man sir." Dright answers me, hurrying forward and laying a hand on my vambrace. I tilt my head and the glowing lenses wash the skin of his hand orange. He slowly raises his arm away and tilts both hands back to show no threat, his throat bobs as he swallows.

"Man?"

"Mobile Automaton. We use'em for pretty much everything: driving, flying, running errands," He waves a finger around to indicate the base. "Guarding gates." Dright shrugs and flicks his eyes between the impassive gaze of the man and me. "My grandma has one to help out round the home, cleaning, cooking, things like that. They're pretty basic really, running set routines, it's all menial stuff and they aren't too bright but you tell'em what you want'em to do and they'll get the job done if it's in their programming.

"There're all sorts though," Dright walks forwards and leans up against the 'Man' and puts an arm around its back. "This one here is an Army Man. They were designed to go into combat but some people, they didn't like'em, didn't think it was right letting machines do all the fighting, they thought it was way better that people killed other people, 'course, they weren't the ones being sent out to do the dying. That's why he's armoured; they removed the combat routines and that was that really."

Dright looks up at the Army Man with a wistful expression and it tilts its head down to look at him. The machine is humanoid, with slabs of armour roughly shaped like human musculature. It stands a head shorter than me, aproximately seven feet tall, and the face is blocky and angular. "We call this big guy Bob," Dright says, giving the machine a pat on the chest. "Old Bob's saved my life a dozen times. They say they took all the combat wetware out but I don't know, Bob's still pretty handy, aren't you Bob?" 'Bob' stares at Dright for a long moment and then makes a sound between a grunt and grinding gears.

"Of course, that was before the Tau came. Obviously their people aren't so bothered about using robots to fight for'em, what with all the drones. I've heard that they're re-equipping the Men, putting them back out into the field but, even now, people don't mind'em as servants but they still object to them fighting." Dright shakes his head and stares at Bob. "Better that people kill people right?"

Within the Imperium, robots are rare and precious. I am aware of the existence of many such machines employed in the armies of the Adeptus Mechanicus but I have never fought beside nor seen such a thing. If battle worthy robots are being produced on this world, it will be a huge coup for the Mechanicus and even the Tau could benefit from this technology. There is more at stake here than I realised.

We are escorted within the main Headquarters building, a quietly bustling environment. The operations room is a larger version of the prefabriacted units seemingly used to create all personnel buildings. The walls are made from slabs of a composite material which appears designed to absorb impacts, blasts and shrapnel and locks into a lightweight frame, an example of which I saw quickly being dismantled under the supervision of overalled technicians.

"Jenniser? Jenniser Foster? I can't believe it! What, what are you doing here?" A marine officer wearing combat fatigues and a cloth cap slowly walks toward Miss Foster, his speech faltering as he takes in every inch of her battered form. He puts his hands on her shoulders and his mouth hangs open slightly.

"Melgin? I didn't know you were in the service. It's been a long time." She doesn't touch the officer back and as if realising what he is doing for the first time, he lifts both hands off her shoulders and takes a half step back. He takes a moment to compose himself before he answers her.

"Yes, it's been a long time." His gaze takes in the children and his frown deepens and he shakes his head as if he cannot believe what he is seeing. Then he sees me. He swallows and takes a step back.

"Brother Carleeson, of the Prophets of Hatred Chapter of Space Marines." I say, before he can speak, laying emphasise on 'marines'. "You are the commanding officer here?"

"Yes. My name is Lietenant Colonel Brant, Commander of Taskforce Beta. Pleasure to meet you, er, Brother." The Commander's hand hovers halfway between a salute and offering me a handshake. I stare at him until he drops his arm.

"I have no wish to divert you from your duties Commander and I have my own to perform." I turn my gaze to Miss Foster for a moment and then turn to leave.

"Now just wait a minute." I hear Brant closing behind me. "What are you doing here? Are there more Imperial forces coming? We need reinforcements."

"My Brothers and I were tasked with the destruction of the refinery at Hornlow. We were attacked entering orbit and I became seperated. It would appear you are acquanited with Miss Foster. She and her pupils followed me into the city where we encountered some of your personnel who directed me here. Now that they are here I put them into your care." I take a step towards Brant, forcing him to tilt his head almost as far back as it will go. "As I said, Commander Brant, I have duties to perform. You would not wish to impede one of the Emperor's Astartes in executing his duties, would you?" Before he can answer Ashney interjects.

"You're leaving us here? But- I thought- You can't leave us here!"

"I can and I will. You are not my concern, I made that very clear from the beginning. Y-"

"NO!" She screams and launches herself at me, her face a mask of anger. She beats her fists on my leg, unable to reach much higher.

"Enough." She continues her assault. "Enough." My voice comes out as a low growl between clenched teeth, this tedious nonsense very quickly draining my patience but still the girl will not stop. I do not do it consciously, but I feel Makorro's helm turn the vox-emitter to full volume. "ENOUGH!" My amplified voice hurls the child to the floor and every other noise silences immediately. I sense dozens of eyes upon me. I snatch Ashney up off the ground, only just checking myself from crushing her to death, so fragile is she.

"I am the Emperor's Angel of Death. I am not your personal guardian. I execute the Emperor's will, nothing else."

As soon as the word leaves my mouth a muffled boom filters through into the operations room. Cool lines spread across my back and chest, my armour lowering my temperature even as I become aware that my anger is making my skin sizzle like I am doused in liquid fire. The sounds of battle calm me, giving me focus.

I put Ashney down as I begin to make my way out, and behind me the operations room explodes into sound as Brant begins shouting for a situation report and his people move to obey. Outside, marines are running and I hear the throaty purr of the small tank as it charges off, somewhere outside the stone cage wall.

The gathering enemy forces we ran through to get here were obviously building for an all out assault but I had hoped they would be helpful enough to wait until I was on my way. Three of the guard towers are smouldering ruins and I watch a fourth explode as dozens of missiles slam into its energy field, the protective bubble popping with a screech. Scores of ragged, enemy soldiers pour over the rubble barrier and flood into the compound.

Where we enetered the base, the small tank is making a very good account of itself and several missiles hit it directly but with little effect, the warheads seemingly designed to take down the marine's energy fields but ineffective against conventional armour. Even so, the flood of bodies is too much for one vehicle and crude incendiary exploves smash over its hull. It reverses, and those few marines that are still alive begin to scramble back along with it. I add my bolter fire to theirs and see traitors chewed apart and explode by my attack.

I continue to advance even as the tank passes me, the bang and scream of my bolts familiar music to my ears. Each bolt is fired like an ordinary bullet but the bolt's own propellent kicks in after several heartbeats, giving every shot that distincive scream and howl. At the target, the armour piercing tip gives a dry crackle before the mass reactive detonates with a moist thump.

The situation is hopeless. Hundreds of the enemy have breached the outer defence. Behind me a siren begins to wail. I fall back to the inner compound where my erstwhile companions wait for me. Brant jogs across to me with several more of his officers in tow. More engines roar into life and I see large cargo trucks begin to move out.

"We've been expecting this for a few days now. I guess that Emperor of yours got you to us just in time." Brant gives me a pointed look but I find his logic vexatious. I have no time to explain to him that the Emperor is his also and simply ask him what his plans are.

"That refinery your're supposed to be destroying, that's their main base. Arch forces and their new blue buddies are dug in there like ticks. Arch forces are more numerous than us, got more resources than us but could never really bring any of it to bear whilst we outgunned them. Their tech just couldn't compete with ours. Now... This place was just a firebase, damn Tau demolshed the main HQ months ago. Top Brass kept us here as a distraction but I was damned if I was going to let all my people die out here for a distraction! That's why I had my men out hunting for a way through. Look, we need all the help we can get, especially now. I know I have no authoirty over you so as just one soldier to another, please, help us."

"I am going to Hornlow. I will find my Brothers on the way and then I will aid them in our mission. I will not be going with you Commander Brant." I see him sag as I say this but I am not finished yet. "I will give you the same choice as Miss Foster however. You may come with me but your life will be in the Emperor's hands.

"You've been out here for a long time Commander, while the enemy picked you off one by one. Even your own superiors left you out here to die. Wouldn't you prefer to strike back, to take the fight to the enemy, to crush these traitors in their lair?"

I watch the surge of emotions play across Brant's face. Attacking Hornlow was obviously something he never considered, at least not seriously, he didn't have the strength to do so. Now though, he has a Space Marine.

"Let's do it!"

"Ave Imperator!"






**********



Apologies for the slow update, had one or two important events to get out of the way this last week or so. All things back to normal again, for now. Emperor willing that's how it will stay!

   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Papua New Guinea

I watch the compound recede behind us, as the open topped troop transporter rocks and jounces as its driver speeds away. Explosions rock the base and men scream under the steady high-pitched beat of the automated turrets covering our withdrawal. It shocks me that the marines could leave their wargear without even a backward glance; these weapons will be destroyed or fall into the hands of traitors and aliens and yet the men and women of the Corps have abandoned them to this ignominious fate with no more thought than one would spare for a used food wrapper. It sickens me and I see now why they have faired so poorly against the rabble they have faced here: they do not honour the machine spirits or the memory of those who have fought and died with these weapons in the past. They are selfish and wanton.

Miss Foster sits almost opposite me, just to my left, leaning on the tailgate and she is turned away as much as the narrow timber bench will allow but I can still see the tears. Weak. The older girl who has helped her up until now is another survivor and she sits next to her teacher, holding her left hand tightly, but she is staring at the scuffed deck with a heavily knotted brow. She runs a thumb absently across her bottom lip and bites the corner, gently repeating the action over and over. Ashney is the next in line and she is sat leaning forwards, staring at me intently from under thick lashes, leaning on her elbows, her wrists crossed over each other. In her right hand she holds her pistol. I tilt my head to one side and through the dark thunder of her expression a timid, hopeful smile twitches across her mouth. Fool.

Beside her is the brother and what seems to be the two youngest children. For a moment the idea runs through my mind that the marines abandoned their equipment as I have abandoned the bodies of the fallen children. They mean less to me than wargear and I had no responsibility to them. Their lives were in their own hands and the Emperor's but a machine is at the mercy of whomever wields it, you might even call machines innocent. But the thought lodges as I scan across each face again. I feel...

As the convoy of trucks moves off the dirt track that has brought us to a wide road lined with one hundred feet high trees, pale grey leaves flashing golden in the sun, I see something thrown from one of the other transports which hits a man, stood by the road, in the chest. From my position, and with my enhanced sight I see every detail of him very clearly. His arms are black to the elbow and split with thick red fissures. He has no expression, eyes unfocussed. He stands next to a burnt out vehicle with a number of charred corpses inside. At his feet lies the thrown item, a flat, brown box; a ration pack. I keep my eyes on him as we thunder past but he doesn't move except to sway in the backwash of the passing trucks. I think I can guess what happened. But they would be his own family in that vehicle, his flesh and blood, not some strays picked up along the way. I wonder what his father's grief feels like. How would his sorrow taste on my tongue if I ate his thoughts? Infection will kill him soon. Perhaps I will return here after- No, it is beneath me to sidetrack from my duty in this way, unseemly for an Astartes.

Under my breath I recite the Fifth Psalm of Duty: Blessed is he that walketh not in the counsel of the faithless, nor standeth in the way of heretics, nor sitteth in the seat of traitors. But his delight in is the law of the Emperor; and in His law doth he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper. The faithless are not so: but are like the chaff that the wind driveth away.

I wonder why the Tau have not already attacked the column but then I do not suppose they ever would have expected this paltry force to attack them in their stronghold; I trust also that my Brothers will even now be at their throats. With a whirr the engine note changes, powering down and the transport comes to a stop, crunching over loose gravel. I jump down from the bed of the transport even as squads of marines do the same. I approach the commander as he ushers some of his men away.

"We're going to cut through the fence here. It used to be a rail access but that's been gone for decades but there is a clear corridor direct to the heart of the refinery. The Tau are holed up at the old research laboratories, it's just tanks and fuelling depots on this side, best place for an ingress because if they start shooting here then the whole place could go up!" Brant says with a lobsided grin.

I walk with the Commander to the fence, a heavy gauge mesh thirty feet high. It is the work of only a few moments to slice through one side and the Army Man helps to push the fence back on itself. I step off the old ballast left over from the period when the tracks ran through and onto a relatively newer hard surface of scabby, grey concrete. A thicket of corroded alluminium pipes and stainless steel tubes spreads off to my right, denoting the fuelling stations where abandoned chemical haulers still sit and to my left are hundreds, if not thousands, of tanks; ugly white spheres like oversized cistern floats streaked orange and black like candle wax running down a skull, and squat cylinders all shades of rust, haphazardly jacketed in thick, sludge black padding that hangs in places like rotten skin.

"The mission as outlined by your people and the Munitorum, when they sought the aide of my Brothers and I, was to level this place. A waste don't you think Commander?"

"Damn impossible too if you don't mind me saying so. Seems like destroying the Tau force here would safely see it back in our hands, I can't even imagine why they would ask for it to be destroyed."

"Nor I." I say, musing on a nascent thought. "Have you seen many Tau Commander, during any of your enagements thus far?"

Brant gives me a sideways look as he stares out at the horizon, where the Tau must be located.

"Honestly? Not many. They have some aircraft which occasionly do a run through but I haven't seen any of their ground troops. Mainly we've been fighting the same enemy as ever."

"I killed two pathfinders on my into the city. They were armed with weapons originally designed to kill Astartes, overkill if they only expected to face conventional troops such as your marines and wholly inadequate against large bodies of infantry."

"Where are you going with this if you don't mind me asking, Brother Carleeson?"

I look at the Commander and I cannot answer him but something does not feel right to me. But then little has 'felt' right since I landed on this world.

"I don't know Commander but I aim to find out."
   
Made in us
Master Shaper




Gargant Hunting

Oh boy, keep up the great work man, I'm really liking where the story is going.

Irishpeacockz-Blackjack needs a pay raise for being the welcomer to the crusade
Palleus-Write a school essay about Kroot! Pride. Prejudice. And Cannibalsim. 
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Papua New Guinea

Thanks for reading along. That last little bit just sorta popped into my head as I was typing but needless to say, there'll be a few more proper Marines joining the story soon and I have a few ideas about just what the hell is going on, sorta. Who knows, we may well have got a half coherent story by the time it's all done!

Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

Show me your god and I'll send you a warhead because my god's bigger than your god.
 
   
Made in us
Master Shaper




Gargant Hunting

Lol, wherever your taking it, I can't wait to see. Some more actual marines might be nice too, so I'm excited for that.

Irishpeacockz-Blackjack needs a pay raise for being the welcomer to the crusade
Palleus-Write a school essay about Kroot! Pride. Prejudice. And Cannibalsim. 
   
Made in ca
Stormin' Stompa






Ottawa, ON

Looks like our marine's army grows bigger everyday.

Ask yourself: have you rated a gallery image today? 
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Papua New Guinea

Thanks for the replies fellas, they're all very much appreciated

Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

Show me your god and I'll send you a warhead because my god's bigger than your god.
 
   
Made in us
Master Shaper




Gargant Hunting

Yeah, it seems like some stories get a bit of replies at first, which motivates the writer a lot, but then the replies die down, which isn't too much of a help. (Just for me, anyway, but I may rely on what some people think more than what's good for me.)

Irishpeacockz-Blackjack needs a pay raise for being the welcomer to the crusade
Palleus-Write a school essay about Kroot! Pride. Prejudice. And Cannibalsim. 
   
Made in gb
Mighty Vampire Count






UK

Loving this story and characters

I AM A MARINE PLAYER

"Unimaginably ancient xenos artefact somewhere on the planet, hive fleet poised above our heads, hidden 'stealer broods making an early start....and now a bloody Chaos cult crawling out of the woodwork just in case we were bored. Welcome to my world, Ciaphas."
Inquisitor Amberley Vail, Ordo Xenos

"I will admit that some Primachs like Russ or Horus could have a chance against an unarmed 12 year old novice but, a full Battle Sister??!! One to one? In close combat? Perhaps three Primarchs fighting together... but just one Primarch?" da001

www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/528517.page

A Bloody Road - my Warhammer Fantasy Fiction 
   
Made in ca
Longtime Dakkanaut






Toronto

LOVE!!! If you don't mind me saying so, there is another thread called The Death of The Emperor, and the latest chapter fits this story incredibly...

Adepta Sororitas: 3,800 Points
Adeptus Custodes: 8,100 Points
Adeptus Mechanicus: 8,400 Points
Alpha Legion: 4,400 Points
Astra Militarum: 7,500 Points
Dark Angels: 16,800 Points
Imperial Knights: 12,500 Points
Legio Titanicus: 5,500 Points
Slaaneshi Daemons: 3,800 Points
 
   
Made in gb
Esteemed Veteran Space Marine




Sheppey, England

This continues to entertain. The gradual humanising of Brother Carleeson is fascinating to watch. I look forward to seeing how he responds when he's once more among his own kind.

Click for a Relictors short story: http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/412814.page

And the sequels HERE and HERE

Final part's up HERE

 
   
 
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