Crucible (40K)
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Ah, I see. I wasn't clear on whether Space Marines kept their birth names or took a name the way members of monastic orders do.
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- Imperial Overlord
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Re: Crucible (40K)
That seems to very from Chapter to Chapter. The Sword Bearers tend to retain parts of their birth names when they choose their new names.Rogue 9 wrote:Ah, I see. I wasn't clear on whether Space Marines kept their birth names or took a name the way members of monastic orders do.
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Re: Crucible (40K)
They marched through the hangers in small groups, hands full of tool kits and and duffel bags. They still wore coveralls and uniforms of the Sword Bearers but they were Blood Tigers now. Children clung to their parents, the older ones attempting a facade of stoic calm, as they boarded Thunderhawks. Servitors that were more machine than flesh loaded heavy equipment onto other craft and chapter serfs scrambled aboard to secure it for transport.
"It truly begins brother," said Marhkus Exacles as he strode through the hanger. The Astartes wore his armour, minus his helmet. He greatly resembled his brother, barring the triple track of scars running down the left side of his face.
Damien turned to face his brother. The Chapter Master was standing in a pool of shadow by the hanger wall , a darkness within the darkness that was almost invisible. "Yes it does."
"So many men," said Marhkus. "And women and children."
"We are the point of the sword," Damien replied, "but the rest of the blade is made up of mortal men."
"Truth brother. We will need them very badly. Three hundred Marines to do a Chapter's job. In Charybdis no less."
The brothers' shared a moment of silence. The engines of a Thunderhawk roared as it coasted towards take off. "You did not have to come," said Damien. The noise of the bay swallowed his words, but his brother was Astartes.
"Of course I did."
"We barely knew each other."
"That was when we were mortals brother. We have known each other for decades."
"You do not have to follow me."
"It is not a sacrifice, my brother. This you do not understand. Some men have lofty visions. You and your friend Toth. You build castles out of ideas and air, holo images of possible glories. Others are more practical. We build solid foundations, we deal in practicalities. This is already built, but the Blood Tigers are new. The challenges are new. Even I have vision enough to see the glories to be won."
"I do need your skills brothers, but tell me truly do you support my vision?"
"It is ambitious and that is enough. What have we done for the last two centuries? Chase raiders, send our brothers to the Deathwatch and to help with crusades in other sectors, and the occasional strike force into the Reach. We have grown large but we have grown soft. Secure. Complacent. Only the brothers on campaign or in the Deathwatch live as we should, fight as we should. Our Chapter Master should be finding us a challenge for us, a war to wage and instead he schedules more rites of devotion. War is our rite of devotion and you would bring war to Charybdis. There is no question of my rightful place, both as an Astartes and as one who shares your blood."
"Do you really think we have gone soft?"
"No," replied Markhus. "We are the Blood Tigers. We're building our fortress-monastery in the Reach. The crusade, if it happens, might shake the rust off the Sword Bearers, but we are haven't gone soft. Neither have the Sword Bearers in the Deathwatch or the companies in Caporia fighting the Tyranids. But this place? No one has dared to attack it in five hundred years. There hasn't be a full scale invasion in this sector in our lifetime and no war that has not ended within six months of an Astartes arriving. Too much time to think of what an Astartes should be, too much time considering purity and doctrine, and too little time planning the next campaign.
"But not you brother. You're already planning the next thousand years of conquest and glory. That is the purpose of Astartes. War. Leave religion for mortal man. We know our place in the Emperor's plan."
"That we do." Damien put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I am glad you are with me, for your own reasons."
"My brother, I am here out of obligation to my brothers, to mankind, and to my Emperor. I know what you have done, both as a Sword Bearer and as a sworn brother of the Deathwatch. I have faith that you will lead us in the proper direction and I have faith in my own worth. Great trials await us."
"If it was easy then there would be no need for Astartes."
"It truly begins brother," said Marhkus Exacles as he strode through the hanger. The Astartes wore his armour, minus his helmet. He greatly resembled his brother, barring the triple track of scars running down the left side of his face.
Damien turned to face his brother. The Chapter Master was standing in a pool of shadow by the hanger wall , a darkness within the darkness that was almost invisible. "Yes it does."
"So many men," said Marhkus. "And women and children."
"We are the point of the sword," Damien replied, "but the rest of the blade is made up of mortal men."
"Truth brother. We will need them very badly. Three hundred Marines to do a Chapter's job. In Charybdis no less."
The brothers' shared a moment of silence. The engines of a Thunderhawk roared as it coasted towards take off. "You did not have to come," said Damien. The noise of the bay swallowed his words, but his brother was Astartes.
"Of course I did."
"We barely knew each other."
"That was when we were mortals brother. We have known each other for decades."
"You do not have to follow me."
"It is not a sacrifice, my brother. This you do not understand. Some men have lofty visions. You and your friend Toth. You build castles out of ideas and air, holo images of possible glories. Others are more practical. We build solid foundations, we deal in practicalities. This is already built, but the Blood Tigers are new. The challenges are new. Even I have vision enough to see the glories to be won."
"I do need your skills brothers, but tell me truly do you support my vision?"
"It is ambitious and that is enough. What have we done for the last two centuries? Chase raiders, send our brothers to the Deathwatch and to help with crusades in other sectors, and the occasional strike force into the Reach. We have grown large but we have grown soft. Secure. Complacent. Only the brothers on campaign or in the Deathwatch live as we should, fight as we should. Our Chapter Master should be finding us a challenge for us, a war to wage and instead he schedules more rites of devotion. War is our rite of devotion and you would bring war to Charybdis. There is no question of my rightful place, both as an Astartes and as one who shares your blood."
"Do you really think we have gone soft?"
"No," replied Markhus. "We are the Blood Tigers. We're building our fortress-monastery in the Reach. The crusade, if it happens, might shake the rust off the Sword Bearers, but we are haven't gone soft. Neither have the Sword Bearers in the Deathwatch or the companies in Caporia fighting the Tyranids. But this place? No one has dared to attack it in five hundred years. There hasn't be a full scale invasion in this sector in our lifetime and no war that has not ended within six months of an Astartes arriving. Too much time to think of what an Astartes should be, too much time considering purity and doctrine, and too little time planning the next campaign.
"But not you brother. You're already planning the next thousand years of conquest and glory. That is the purpose of Astartes. War. Leave religion for mortal man. We know our place in the Emperor's plan."
"That we do." Damien put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I am glad you are with me, for your own reasons."
"My brother, I am here out of obligation to my brothers, to mankind, and to my Emperor. I know what you have done, both as a Sword Bearer and as a sworn brother of the Deathwatch. I have faith that you will lead us in the proper direction and I have faith in my own worth. Great trials await us."
"If it was easy then there would be no need for Astartes."
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Re: Crucible (40K)
ok good so far.... but can you had some more excitement please
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Re: Crucible (40K)
The earth shook and the wind roared as a flash turned night into day and a mushroom cloud ascended into the sky. The giant column of fire illuminated the ground around it for miles, revealing the ruined and broken ground around the titanic crater as well as the ramshackle camps the covered the bleak plateau like diseased fungus. Before the roar died away another titanic explosion lit up the plateau and another monstrous cloud ascended into the sky. And then another.
Hell had come to the plateau, hell in the form of magma class melta warheads fired from the bombardment cannons aboard the battle barge in low orbit. The shock waves from the explosions sufficed to flatten most of the few remaining structures and set countless fires. Panicked and random shooting by the survivors filled the night with tracers and only served to add to the destruction. In the space of a minute what had been the war factory and marshaling yard of Warboss Yorb Skullgrinda had been reduced to a blasted ruin.
Near the center of the plateau, the one place not subjected to direct orbital strikes, there was another flash of light and a loud boom. Twelve huge figures appeared out of thin air. Behind them there was a loud explosion as an ammo dump cooked off and exploded with enough force to send the body of a burning Gretchin flying past them. The giant figures did not so much as flinch from the explosion or sway from the force of the blast. They were Terminators, wearing armour so dark that it appeared black, and they had come to finish the job.
Around them was chaos and ruin. Orks were firing blindly, filling the air with tracers. One of the Terminators raised an axe with an obsidian blade, pointing at a small fortress walled in packed earth, stone and scrap. Two guard towers swayed drunkenly along the perimeter, two of the few remaining structures on the plateau.
Two of the Terminators turned to the right and and fired short burts at a half dozen Ork boyz who had blundered into them. The Orks had been running, firing blindly and bellowing to their violent gods when they had stumbled onto the Terminators. The first one died instantly as bolt rounds blew his skull apart. The second's chest exploded in a spare of muscle and bone as three bolt rounds literally blew his ribs off his torso and turned his organs to jelly. The fourth had his right arm severed and the fifth fell back bleeding with two ragged holes in his chest.
As their battle brothers mowed down the Ork interlopers two Terminators raised their dreadful long barreled Reaper Autocannons and opened fire. The tops of the gun towers exploded as they sent volleys of high explosive shells into the crow's nests. They shifted aim and put shells into the supports. The towers toppled with a crash that was lost in the confusion of the camp.
The Marine with the axe pointed at the crude gates of hinged armour plate and they deformed around the center and flew inward as if struck by a giant invisible fist. The Terminators advanced into the compound with the inevitability of a glacier. Their guns barked and roared, but only briefly. Bodies fell to the dirt, spilling blood into the ground. The occasional rounds deflected off the Terminator's nearly invulnerable armour.
"What if he's already dead?" one asked.
"It doesn't matter," the one with the axe replied. Bullets whizzed around him as the battle brothers methodically destroyed every gun emplacement in the compound. "As long as the corpse is fresh it will serve us." That was why the bombardment had spared the heart of the camp. The blast effects and the shock waves had reached that far, but they would leave a usable corpse if they killed the target and that was all that mattered.
A ramshackle keep composed of mismatched armour plates bolted and welded onto a mass of girders and supports stood in front of them. One of the Terminators raised his Reaper Cannon and blew down the heavy door. Flamer and bolter fire then filled the interior. Yellow glowing tracers flashed back from the interior. Heavy slugs smashed themselves on the Terminator's armour. For a moment there was a battle but only for a moment. Then the only guns roaring were those of the Marines.
"Advance," called a Marine with a sword sheathed at his waist. The Marines stepped into the threshold, flesh compressing under their feet as strode through the kill zone. Another wave of Orks rushed out and was met by long volleys of bolter fire and sprays of liquid fire. The Terminators walked through another slaughter field.
"He's close," said the one with the axe.
"Be ready," said the sword bearer. The walls beside the the Terminators were torn open by huge power claws as giant Orks in huge, crude sets of power armour sprung to attack. One of the Orks fell to a bolter volley to the face, another to a point blank range melta blast that turned his torso to slag and char. Two more pushed their way forward, tossing their fallen comrades to the side. The Marine with the axe met one in hand to hand. The other engaged a pair of Terminators. Power gloves crackled as their energy fields activated.
As the ambush was sprung an even larger Ork, at least three meters tall before being bulked up to dreadnought size by his mega armour, charged through the doors ahead. Dual power claws hummed and crackled. "Crush you puny hummie gitz!" He roared.
"Reapers," the sword bearer ordered. "Knees."
The two Marines adjusted their aim as their battle brothers fought in hand to hand combat just meters away. One Terminator caught one of the power claws in his power glove for just a moment. It was long enough. The second closed his glove on the Ork's elbow and squeezed. The he ripped. The Ork's arm came away in a spray of blood and metal. The force of the attack yanked the Ork down to his knees just in time for the Ork to have a very good view of the power fist, wrapped in a aurora of sparks, slam towards his face.
The axe wielder was faster than Ork he faced. The obsidian blade buried itself in the Ork's chest and an overwhelming rush of psychic force was channeled through it. Crudely welded metal and smoking meat hit the floor as Warboss Skullgrinda rushed towards his foes.
The Reapers opened fire. The Warboss's armour was good, but inconsistent and the Reapers were quite capable of tearing up power armour and armoured fighting vehicles. Their operators were veterans of almost countless wars, the best of the best. Heavy shells struck the Warboss in the knees and upper thigh. They detonated with armour wrecking fury.
The bellow almost shook the ramshackle fort as Skullgrinda fell face first, his legs bloody stumps. "Gut you hummies!" he screamed. He began to pull himself forward with his power class, seemingly unaffected by shock or blood loss.
The sword bearer raised his combi bolter and put rounds into the crude, smoke belching powerpack on the Ork's back. On the third round it detonated in an oily black burst of flames. The power claws and muscle augments failed, leaving the crippled warboss to bear the entire weight of his huge body and the even greater mass of his ruined armour. Skullgrinda pulled himself another meter forward.
"Secure him," said the sword bearer. "Signal for teleportation retrieval."
"The last domino is ready to be set in place," said the Terminator with the axe. "After all this time we are finally ready."
"Yes, my brothers," said the captain as two Terminators seized the warboss and stripped off anything that could be used as a weapon with their power gloves. "We are ready to set the Imperium alight. Only at the end will they comprehend that we have been the architects of their destruction and then only because our lords will see fit to inform them of the true nature of their doom so we may drink of their despair. They shall never see us coming."
Hell had come to the plateau, hell in the form of magma class melta warheads fired from the bombardment cannons aboard the battle barge in low orbit. The shock waves from the explosions sufficed to flatten most of the few remaining structures and set countless fires. Panicked and random shooting by the survivors filled the night with tracers and only served to add to the destruction. In the space of a minute what had been the war factory and marshaling yard of Warboss Yorb Skullgrinda had been reduced to a blasted ruin.
Near the center of the plateau, the one place not subjected to direct orbital strikes, there was another flash of light and a loud boom. Twelve huge figures appeared out of thin air. Behind them there was a loud explosion as an ammo dump cooked off and exploded with enough force to send the body of a burning Gretchin flying past them. The giant figures did not so much as flinch from the explosion or sway from the force of the blast. They were Terminators, wearing armour so dark that it appeared black, and they had come to finish the job.
Around them was chaos and ruin. Orks were firing blindly, filling the air with tracers. One of the Terminators raised an axe with an obsidian blade, pointing at a small fortress walled in packed earth, stone and scrap. Two guard towers swayed drunkenly along the perimeter, two of the few remaining structures on the plateau.
Two of the Terminators turned to the right and and fired short burts at a half dozen Ork boyz who had blundered into them. The Orks had been running, firing blindly and bellowing to their violent gods when they had stumbled onto the Terminators. The first one died instantly as bolt rounds blew his skull apart. The second's chest exploded in a spare of muscle and bone as three bolt rounds literally blew his ribs off his torso and turned his organs to jelly. The fourth had his right arm severed and the fifth fell back bleeding with two ragged holes in his chest.
As their battle brothers mowed down the Ork interlopers two Terminators raised their dreadful long barreled Reaper Autocannons and opened fire. The tops of the gun towers exploded as they sent volleys of high explosive shells into the crow's nests. They shifted aim and put shells into the supports. The towers toppled with a crash that was lost in the confusion of the camp.
The Marine with the axe pointed at the crude gates of hinged armour plate and they deformed around the center and flew inward as if struck by a giant invisible fist. The Terminators advanced into the compound with the inevitability of a glacier. Their guns barked and roared, but only briefly. Bodies fell to the dirt, spilling blood into the ground. The occasional rounds deflected off the Terminator's nearly invulnerable armour.
"What if he's already dead?" one asked.
"It doesn't matter," the one with the axe replied. Bullets whizzed around him as the battle brothers methodically destroyed every gun emplacement in the compound. "As long as the corpse is fresh it will serve us." That was why the bombardment had spared the heart of the camp. The blast effects and the shock waves had reached that far, but they would leave a usable corpse if they killed the target and that was all that mattered.
A ramshackle keep composed of mismatched armour plates bolted and welded onto a mass of girders and supports stood in front of them. One of the Terminators raised his Reaper Cannon and blew down the heavy door. Flamer and bolter fire then filled the interior. Yellow glowing tracers flashed back from the interior. Heavy slugs smashed themselves on the Terminator's armour. For a moment there was a battle but only for a moment. Then the only guns roaring were those of the Marines.
"Advance," called a Marine with a sword sheathed at his waist. The Marines stepped into the threshold, flesh compressing under their feet as strode through the kill zone. Another wave of Orks rushed out and was met by long volleys of bolter fire and sprays of liquid fire. The Terminators walked through another slaughter field.
"He's close," said the one with the axe.
"Be ready," said the sword bearer. The walls beside the the Terminators were torn open by huge power claws as giant Orks in huge, crude sets of power armour sprung to attack. One of the Orks fell to a bolter volley to the face, another to a point blank range melta blast that turned his torso to slag and char. Two more pushed their way forward, tossing their fallen comrades to the side. The Marine with the axe met one in hand to hand. The other engaged a pair of Terminators. Power gloves crackled as their energy fields activated.
As the ambush was sprung an even larger Ork, at least three meters tall before being bulked up to dreadnought size by his mega armour, charged through the doors ahead. Dual power claws hummed and crackled. "Crush you puny hummie gitz!" He roared.
"Reapers," the sword bearer ordered. "Knees."
The two Marines adjusted their aim as their battle brothers fought in hand to hand combat just meters away. One Terminator caught one of the power claws in his power glove for just a moment. It was long enough. The second closed his glove on the Ork's elbow and squeezed. The he ripped. The Ork's arm came away in a spray of blood and metal. The force of the attack yanked the Ork down to his knees just in time for the Ork to have a very good view of the power fist, wrapped in a aurora of sparks, slam towards his face.
The axe wielder was faster than Ork he faced. The obsidian blade buried itself in the Ork's chest and an overwhelming rush of psychic force was channeled through it. Crudely welded metal and smoking meat hit the floor as Warboss Skullgrinda rushed towards his foes.
The Reapers opened fire. The Warboss's armour was good, but inconsistent and the Reapers were quite capable of tearing up power armour and armoured fighting vehicles. Their operators were veterans of almost countless wars, the best of the best. Heavy shells struck the Warboss in the knees and upper thigh. They detonated with armour wrecking fury.
The bellow almost shook the ramshackle fort as Skullgrinda fell face first, his legs bloody stumps. "Gut you hummies!" he screamed. He began to pull himself forward with his power class, seemingly unaffected by shock or blood loss.
The sword bearer raised his combi bolter and put rounds into the crude, smoke belching powerpack on the Ork's back. On the third round it detonated in an oily black burst of flames. The power claws and muscle augments failed, leaving the crippled warboss to bear the entire weight of his huge body and the even greater mass of his ruined armour. Skullgrinda pulled himself another meter forward.
"Secure him," said the sword bearer. "Signal for teleportation retrieval."
"The last domino is ready to be set in place," said the Terminator with the axe. "After all this time we are finally ready."
"Yes, my brothers," said the captain as two Terminators seized the warboss and stripped off anything that could be used as a weapon with their power gloves. "We are ready to set the Imperium alight. Only at the end will they comprehend that we have been the architects of their destruction and then only because our lords will see fit to inform them of the true nature of their doom so we may drink of their despair. They shall never see us coming."
Last edited by Imperial Overlord on 2011-04-29 04:32am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Oh. OH. Oh this can't be good. These guys are like...evil Mosegis in terminator armor.
Chronological Incontinence: Time warps around the poster. The thread topic winks out of existence and reappears in 1d10 posts.
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-'If you really want to fuck with these idiots tell them that there is a vaccine for chemtrails.'
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Out of Context Theatre, this week starring Darth Nostril.
-'If you really want to fuck with these idiots tell them that there is a vaccine for chemtrails.'
Fiction!: The Final War (Bolo/Lovecraft) (Ch 7 9/15/11), Living (D&D, Complete)
Re: Crucible (40K)
Yes its never a good sign when guys in dressed in black utter the words "...so we may drink of their despair." By the way no big deal but near the bottom one of the terminators says "After all this time we finally ready." I assume you meant to write "After all this time we are finally ready."
Imperial Overlord just want to let you know you where one of the few guys i used to follow on the old BL fan forums and your work is always an awesome ride! Keep it up!
Imperial Overlord just want to let you know you where one of the few guys i used to follow on the old BL fan forums and your work is always an awesome ride! Keep it up!
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Thank you.kromtar wrote:Y
Imperial Overlord just want to let you know you where one of the few guys i used to follow on the old BL fan forums and your work is always an awesome ride! Keep it up!
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Oh dear.... are some of our new Chapter's most veteran Marines already tainted by Chaos? What a disaster, let the Emperor's Justice be swift!
"The 4th Earl of Hereford led the fight on the bridge, but he and his men were caught in the arrow fire. Then one of de Harclay's pikemen, concealed beneath the bridge, thrust upwards between the planks and skewered the Earl of Hereford through the anus, twisting the head of the iron pike into his intestines. His dying screams turned the advance into a panic."'
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Re: Crucible (40K)
No way he is setting the stage for a WAR!!
Re: Crucible (40K)
I got the impression they are Chaos terminators. Aren't Reaper autocannons only used by Chaos, since loyalist space marines changed to the AssCan?
Vendetta wrote:Richard Gatling was a pioneer in US national healthcare. On discovering that most soldiers during the American Civil War were dying of disease rather than gunshots, he turned his mind to, rather than providing better sanitary conditions and medical care for troops, creating a machine to make sure they got shot faster.
Re: Crucible (40K)
I do believe so, same as storm bolters replaced combi-bolters.Hawkwings wrote:I got the impression they are Chaos terminators. Aren't Reaper autocannons only used by Chaos, since loyalist space marines changed to the AssCan?
You know, its remarkably easy to feed an undead army if all you have are just enemies....
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Engines whined as the Thunderhawk slowed its descent through the cloud layers. The clouds parted before it revealing the great black mass of Mount Dorn. Lights flickered from a spot below the mountain's peak. "I have visual contact with the landing bay Chapter Master."
"Proceed," said Damien Exacles from his position in the assault bay. The Chapter Master and his companions were secured in their restraint thrones.
"Acknowledged," said Geran Kallick. The dark haired serf exchanged a glance with his copilot and then reached up and flicked on the landing lights. "Beginning approach."
The Thunderhawk cruised into the landing bay that had been carved in the side of the mountain. Lights and power lines had been strung along the top and sides of the bay. Portable equipment had been set up and technicians were working. A strip of lights and reflectors on the floor acted as a guide line for the Thunderhawk. The ship coasted into a stop.
"You are good to go, my lord," said Kallick.
"Thank you pilot," said Damien Exacles. The restraints on his throne slid up and the Chapter Master got to his feet. The door hissed opened and Exacles stepped down into the bay. Behind him came Toth Arianocus and four other Marines.
"Chapter Master!" shouted Antaeous Drakon. The Master of the Forge was on the other side of the bay, but the amplifiers of his helmet carried his voice across the din. Exacles strode toward him.
"I see the fruits of your labor."
"This?" said Drakon. "This is nothing. We did this in the first week. We've cut living quarters and storage space from the rock as well as the emplaced the auxiliary fusion reactors. We have plenty of power now as well as communication and auger arrays.
"I noticed the lascannons."
"Close defence as well. Torpedo silos and defence laser emplacements will come later, when we get the plasma reactors installed. Void shield generators are a priority. Plumbing, wiring, and so forth are the province of Tech Disciple Renn."
"A serf."
"A very able serf Chapter Master."
"I do not disapprove. How large is his detail?"
"Five hundred workers, including servitors. I have over two thousand workers here. How many are you bringing with you?"
"Another two thousand," said Exacles.
"That's the Chapter's entire compliment."
"Close enough. Those that remain behind are awaiting the shipment from Mars. They will join the ship and direct it here."
"That should be another month or so," said Drakon. "We won't have the medical facilities ready for that much geneseed in time."
"That won't be a problem. It will remain aboard the Martian vessel, under the care and supervision Kail Prenshaw."
"Heh. I questioned that decision at first but I see the wisdom of that. You need an experienced hand teaching the new Apothecaries and managing the geneseed. Prenshaw is steady."
"All Astartes are steady."
"He's as steady as one of Dorn's fortresses. As sturdy as I will make this place."
"Mentioning one of your works in the same breath as Dorn's? Hubris Master of the Forge."
"Perhaps," said Antaeous Drakon, "perhaps. But a master should be judged by his work yes? If my masterwork is equal to one of the many works that Dorn erected in his lifetime then I am merely arrogant."
"Well arrogance is perhaps normal in an Astartes," said Exacles.
"Arrogance comes with mastery," Antaeous continued. "And I am a master of my craft as you are a master of yours."
"The Emperor did not see fit to give you a sense of humor did he?"
"He gave mine to you."
Exacles slapped him on the back. "Not bad for a start, Master of the Forge."
"It is a gift that a leader of men needs, not a master of machines."
"And how many men do you lead in this construction effort?"
"Does anyone ever win these contests with you?"
"No, that is why I am Chapter Master. Keep up the good work. The Charybdis Reach is a dangerous place and we are too vulnerable. Make this place ready for war before the Orks or the Gaun bring war to us."
"Proceed," said Damien Exacles from his position in the assault bay. The Chapter Master and his companions were secured in their restraint thrones.
"Acknowledged," said Geran Kallick. The dark haired serf exchanged a glance with his copilot and then reached up and flicked on the landing lights. "Beginning approach."
The Thunderhawk cruised into the landing bay that had been carved in the side of the mountain. Lights and power lines had been strung along the top and sides of the bay. Portable equipment had been set up and technicians were working. A strip of lights and reflectors on the floor acted as a guide line for the Thunderhawk. The ship coasted into a stop.
"You are good to go, my lord," said Kallick.
"Thank you pilot," said Damien Exacles. The restraints on his throne slid up and the Chapter Master got to his feet. The door hissed opened and Exacles stepped down into the bay. Behind him came Toth Arianocus and four other Marines.
"Chapter Master!" shouted Antaeous Drakon. The Master of the Forge was on the other side of the bay, but the amplifiers of his helmet carried his voice across the din. Exacles strode toward him.
"I see the fruits of your labor."
"This?" said Drakon. "This is nothing. We did this in the first week. We've cut living quarters and storage space from the rock as well as the emplaced the auxiliary fusion reactors. We have plenty of power now as well as communication and auger arrays.
"I noticed the lascannons."
"Close defence as well. Torpedo silos and defence laser emplacements will come later, when we get the plasma reactors installed. Void shield generators are a priority. Plumbing, wiring, and so forth are the province of Tech Disciple Renn."
"A serf."
"A very able serf Chapter Master."
"I do not disapprove. How large is his detail?"
"Five hundred workers, including servitors. I have over two thousand workers here. How many are you bringing with you?"
"Another two thousand," said Exacles.
"That's the Chapter's entire compliment."
"Close enough. Those that remain behind are awaiting the shipment from Mars. They will join the ship and direct it here."
"That should be another month or so," said Drakon. "We won't have the medical facilities ready for that much geneseed in time."
"That won't be a problem. It will remain aboard the Martian vessel, under the care and supervision Kail Prenshaw."
"Heh. I questioned that decision at first but I see the wisdom of that. You need an experienced hand teaching the new Apothecaries and managing the geneseed. Prenshaw is steady."
"All Astartes are steady."
"He's as steady as one of Dorn's fortresses. As sturdy as I will make this place."
"Mentioning one of your works in the same breath as Dorn's? Hubris Master of the Forge."
"Perhaps," said Antaeous Drakon, "perhaps. But a master should be judged by his work yes? If my masterwork is equal to one of the many works that Dorn erected in his lifetime then I am merely arrogant."
"Well arrogance is perhaps normal in an Astartes," said Exacles.
"Arrogance comes with mastery," Antaeous continued. "And I am a master of my craft as you are a master of yours."
"The Emperor did not see fit to give you a sense of humor did he?"
"He gave mine to you."
Exacles slapped him on the back. "Not bad for a start, Master of the Forge."
"It is a gift that a leader of men needs, not a master of machines."
"And how many men do you lead in this construction effort?"
"Does anyone ever win these contests with you?"
"No, that is why I am Chapter Master. Keep up the good work. The Charybdis Reach is a dangerous place and we are too vulnerable. Make this place ready for war before the Orks or the Gaun bring war to us."
Last edited by Imperial Overlord on 2011-05-04 12:56am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Good some sense of humor i like it./
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Damien Exacles stepped into the cavernous room that would become the Chapter's Apothecarion. Lascutters and meltas had literally cut it out of the raw rock. Power and lighting cables came next along portable medical equipment. Beds, medical augers, growth tanks, cryostorage, medical stasis field generators and a host of other equipment had been assembled under the direction of the Apothecaries and Tech Marines. "You seem ready," said Damien Exacles.
"We are, Chapter Master," Xero Anten replied. He was a young Marine, less than fifty years as an Astartes, but bright and capable. His scalp was shaved smooth and he had an eager, almost naive look. "Our own, I mean the Sword Bearer's forges supplied most of the work and additional material was tithed from Hive and Forge Worlds in the Illyrian Sector. Not all of it is installed yet, but more than enough for us at our current strength."
"What if you had an influx of patients?"
"Manpower, not equipment, is the concern. Fortunately we have nearly two score serfs with varying degrees of medical training, several of whom are equal to an apothecary in terms of medical skill."
"Good," replied Exacles. "What is the status of the geneseed we brought with us?"
"A hundred progenoid glands are stored in the secure vault," replied Anten. "Ninety-seven more progenoids are in suitable shape to be harvested from the flesh of our battle brothers."
"Make ready to do so," said Damien Exacles. "We are beginning to recruit our first group of scouts."
"We aren't going to wait for Master Prenshaw and the Martian supplies?"
"They are nearly two months late and their has been no word. Perhaps it is merely the vagaries of the Warp, perhaps something worse. In any case, we move forward. The recruiting parties left yesterday."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Abrahen Tentoth watched as the metal bird descended from the sky. In the oldest of legends it was said that The People had been brought to Carexi by the Sky Gods in the bellies of metal birds and looking upon the metal bird he knew that it must be true. Besides, what was the point of running? The bird could not have missed their village and without their walls and crops the Menkari would be easy prey for the subman tribes of plains.
As the metal bird descended it became clear to Abrahen that it was not a beast at all, but something akin to a wagon or a chariot. A construct, an artifice made by those infinitely greater than the Menkari. Sky Gods or those who wielded their powers. The sky chariot landed on the grazing fields and settled as Abrahen approached. Behind him came Elizel, his eldest son, and a half dozen of the village's bravest men. Abrahen felt his chest swell with pride. His son was a man now, and more so than most. He pushed down the temptation to order his son back. What they were doing was dangerous but he could not ask his son to be less than he was.
As they drew closer Abrahen saw that the ground around the sky chariot was scorched. They was a loud hiss and a door opened in the side of the sky chariot and a Sky God stepped out. He was giant, half again as tall as a Menkari warrior, and wore massive armor of some strange material. The armour was painted black and marked with stripes of red like the tigers of the plains and jungles.
Abrahen knelt because that was what one did in the presence of a Sky God. "What would you have of us lord?" he asked.
The giant gestured for them to rise. A voice with the power of five men and an accent so thick it was difficult to understand came from the helmet. The choice of words was curious and strange, but comprehinsible "Ieth being Crucious, of the Blood Tigers," he said.
"What do you wish of us lord?"
"Blood Tigers beith warriors that servith thay God-Emperor of Mankind. We seeketh initiates to joineth us."
"Initiates?"
"Young warriors, valorous and strong."
One did not defy the Sky Gods, not and live, and yet to surrender the strength of their youth was a bitter pill. "Who will defend us if you taketh our warriors?"
"Fear not," said the Sky God. "Your warriors shall battle in the heavens to defend you from enemies beyond your ken. In addition, for each warrior you gift us we shall gift you a weapon from our forges. With it a single warrior becomes five."
It was folly to resist a Sky God and twice folly to resist him if he was going to pay in such coin. "Tell us how we may serve you lord."
"Bring forward your valorest and strongest. I shall test thime."
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A ship coasted through the cold depths of space. No lights shown from its dark hull and its engines were cold and depowered. Its auger and communication spires were in passive mode, drinking in all the information that they could while emitting nothing. For two months it had followed this course, guided by the workings of an immense bank of logic engines. In truth they were not needed for the calculations were not that complex, even if the task they performed was crucial. Stealth and patience were what was needed and that the masters of the ship possessed.
The logic engines were counting down and now were in the final stages. In the prow of the vessel the massive inner doors of the torpedo tubes cycled open. The massive hatch was a plate of steel nearly three meters thick and twenty-five meters in diameter. The auto loaders raised a package that looked very much like a giant potato made of nickel-iron oar with a growth on one end. The machines forced the false asteroid into the tube and the giant hatch swung shut and resealed.
The timer ticked down to zero. The "growth" was a package of explosives and they detonated, firing the synthetic asteroid out of the torpedo tube like a bullet. It's path was noted on augers, compared to the predictions of the logic engines, and presented to the captain on his command throne. "Exit the system," the Traitor Marine growled.
Compressed gas was fired at high velocity out of the maneuvering thrusters, altering the path of the dark ship. In a week the new coarse would take them behind a moonlet where they could fire their main drive and change course for an warp jump point far from the eyes of the inner system. Meanwhile the artificial asteroid continued on the course that would take it to a cloud covered blue and green world that bathed in the light of a yellow sun.
"We are, Chapter Master," Xero Anten replied. He was a young Marine, less than fifty years as an Astartes, but bright and capable. His scalp was shaved smooth and he had an eager, almost naive look. "Our own, I mean the Sword Bearer's forges supplied most of the work and additional material was tithed from Hive and Forge Worlds in the Illyrian Sector. Not all of it is installed yet, but more than enough for us at our current strength."
"What if you had an influx of patients?"
"Manpower, not equipment, is the concern. Fortunately we have nearly two score serfs with varying degrees of medical training, several of whom are equal to an apothecary in terms of medical skill."
"Good," replied Exacles. "What is the status of the geneseed we brought with us?"
"A hundred progenoid glands are stored in the secure vault," replied Anten. "Ninety-seven more progenoids are in suitable shape to be harvested from the flesh of our battle brothers."
"Make ready to do so," said Damien Exacles. "We are beginning to recruit our first group of scouts."
"We aren't going to wait for Master Prenshaw and the Martian supplies?"
"They are nearly two months late and their has been no word. Perhaps it is merely the vagaries of the Warp, perhaps something worse. In any case, we move forward. The recruiting parties left yesterday."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Abrahen Tentoth watched as the metal bird descended from the sky. In the oldest of legends it was said that The People had been brought to Carexi by the Sky Gods in the bellies of metal birds and looking upon the metal bird he knew that it must be true. Besides, what was the point of running? The bird could not have missed their village and without their walls and crops the Menkari would be easy prey for the subman tribes of plains.
As the metal bird descended it became clear to Abrahen that it was not a beast at all, but something akin to a wagon or a chariot. A construct, an artifice made by those infinitely greater than the Menkari. Sky Gods or those who wielded their powers. The sky chariot landed on the grazing fields and settled as Abrahen approached. Behind him came Elizel, his eldest son, and a half dozen of the village's bravest men. Abrahen felt his chest swell with pride. His son was a man now, and more so than most. He pushed down the temptation to order his son back. What they were doing was dangerous but he could not ask his son to be less than he was.
As they drew closer Abrahen saw that the ground around the sky chariot was scorched. They was a loud hiss and a door opened in the side of the sky chariot and a Sky God stepped out. He was giant, half again as tall as a Menkari warrior, and wore massive armor of some strange material. The armour was painted black and marked with stripes of red like the tigers of the plains and jungles.
Abrahen knelt because that was what one did in the presence of a Sky God. "What would you have of us lord?" he asked.
The giant gestured for them to rise. A voice with the power of five men and an accent so thick it was difficult to understand came from the helmet. The choice of words was curious and strange, but comprehinsible "Ieth being Crucious, of the Blood Tigers," he said.
"What do you wish of us lord?"
"Blood Tigers beith warriors that servith thay God-Emperor of Mankind. We seeketh initiates to joineth us."
"Initiates?"
"Young warriors, valorous and strong."
One did not defy the Sky Gods, not and live, and yet to surrender the strength of their youth was a bitter pill. "Who will defend us if you taketh our warriors?"
"Fear not," said the Sky God. "Your warriors shall battle in the heavens to defend you from enemies beyond your ken. In addition, for each warrior you gift us we shall gift you a weapon from our forges. With it a single warrior becomes five."
It was folly to resist a Sky God and twice folly to resist him if he was going to pay in such coin. "Tell us how we may serve you lord."
"Bring forward your valorest and strongest. I shall test thime."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A ship coasted through the cold depths of space. No lights shown from its dark hull and its engines were cold and depowered. Its auger and communication spires were in passive mode, drinking in all the information that they could while emitting nothing. For two months it had followed this course, guided by the workings of an immense bank of logic engines. In truth they were not needed for the calculations were not that complex, even if the task they performed was crucial. Stealth and patience were what was needed and that the masters of the ship possessed.
The logic engines were counting down and now were in the final stages. In the prow of the vessel the massive inner doors of the torpedo tubes cycled open. The massive hatch was a plate of steel nearly three meters thick and twenty-five meters in diameter. The auto loaders raised a package that looked very much like a giant potato made of nickel-iron oar with a growth on one end. The machines forced the false asteroid into the tube and the giant hatch swung shut and resealed.
The timer ticked down to zero. The "growth" was a package of explosives and they detonated, firing the synthetic asteroid out of the torpedo tube like a bullet. It's path was noted on augers, compared to the predictions of the logic engines, and presented to the captain on his command throne. "Exit the system," the Traitor Marine growled.
Compressed gas was fired at high velocity out of the maneuvering thrusters, altering the path of the dark ship. In a week the new coarse would take them behind a moonlet where they could fire their main drive and change course for an warp jump point far from the eyes of the inner system. Meanwhile the artificial asteroid continued on the course that would take it to a cloud covered blue and green world that bathed in the light of a yellow sun.
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Now what planet are they after? do they have a grudge against the sword bearers? MORE give me MORE
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Damien Exacles walked into the barren room that would serve as his strategarium at sometime in the distant future. Right now it consisted of a few cogitators and a recording servitor. The senior officers of the Blood Tigers were gathered in a semi-circle in a on the naked stone. "Brothers," Exacles began, "the vessel from Mars has yet to arrive, but our duty still calls. The Warp is treacherous. We shall not delay doing our duty."
"Jachen Volg, you will take the Second Company and embark upon a patrol of human and Imperial held worlds in the near Reach. Both Predators and the Land Raider will go with you and Bloodshed, Razor, and Torment will be your space arm. Questions?"
"You said human worlds, as distinct from Imperial Worlds Chapter Master," asked Volg. The veteran Marine had four service studs on his shaved head, each indicating a hundred years of service. His beak like nose had been broken and reset almost more times than could be counted.
"I did. Several of them, such as this one before we arrived, are not hostile to the Imperium. They are worth saving if they can be saved. We are the greatest sign of the God-Emperors power and our actions can help bring these worlds to us."
"Imperial interests are priorities, of course," said Jachen Volg very seriously.
"Of course captain."
"Your will, Chapter Master."
"As you know the Martian vessel has not yet arrived, but we have begun recruiting our scouts already. Zarien Cadril and the Fifth Company will take charge of training of our new recruits. Fourth Company will assist in the construction while the First and Third Company will undergo jungle training and familiarization with the local environment. I have sent communications to Delcius and the Adeptus Mechanicus have agreed to supply us in the interim."
"What did they ask of us in return?" asked Rasteen.
"The arch-magos," said Toth Arianocus, "is well aware of where the Gaun are likely to strike next, should they again attack the Illyrian Sector in force. Our purpose is not merely to defend the Imperial worlds of the Illyrian Sector and the Charybdis Reach but to be tip of the spear of the crusade of reconquest. They know we are their shield and what we ask for is a small fraction of their productive capability."
"The Chief Librarian is correct," said Damien Exacles. "And he will join Captain Cadril and the Fifth Company in training the new initiates. There is another matter, that also concerns the Delcius Forgeworld. I have ordered a substantial amount of arms and equipment for mortal men."
He paused for a moment to let the implications of his statements to sink in. "We are already calling upon on Chapter Serfs to fill every possible roll that does not absolutely require a battle brother. They are strong, intelligent, skilled, and capable and yet they are not Astartes. We, however, do not have the luxury of relying on our own strength. We will need every set of willing hands."
"You are speaking of using them in direct battlefield support roles," said Toth.
"Yes," said Damien. "They are better trained and will be better equipped than most Imperial Guardsmen. They can do more for us than act as pilots and crew. They are already acting in place of the Tech Marines and Apothecaries we do not possess. Using them as artillerymen and tankers and as an emergency reserve of troops will expand our fighting strength."
"This is greatly against the Codex," said Jachen Volg.
"It is against the Codex," began Toth, "but not without precedent in the actions of Lion El'Jonson."
"Thank you Chief Librarian. I remind you that we are no longer in the Illyrian Sector. We are in the Charybdis Reach and with only a fraction of the strength of our parent chapter. Mount Dorn will one day be the mightiest fortress this side of Ultramar, but for now are defences are a shadow of what they could be. We face Orks, renegades, Dark Eldar, and the Gaun as well as the horrors found in the depths of the Reach. We must seize every weapon we can. The Emperor demands this of us. We are the sword and shield of the Human race and we stand at the threshold of the fortress of the enemy. We need their strength."
"With respect Chapter Master," said Captain Volg, "but they are merely Human. We were made for war."
"With respect captain, in war, above all other fields of activity, Man truly excels. We are the best of Mankind and we have been remade totally into weapons, but do not let that make you underestimate our base stock. Mankind conquered much of the galaxy without us. Mortal Men , under our guidance, will prove themselves worthy of supporting the Astartes in battle. Now is the time to speak against this. Do others share Captain Volg's reservations?"
"I think our serfs are better used in noncombat roles," said Antaeous Drakon, "but I understand the necessity. They will serve us well."
"Nihlus Cataran?" Damien asked.
"All weapons, from the humblest to the most exalted, are to be employed against the enemy when their time comes," rumbled the huge First Captain. "I stand with the Chapter Master and Chief Librarian with this and I know Master of the Fleet Navaros Rasteen agrees as well. So should the rest of you. I am reminded of a story, once told to me when I was a sergeant by another sergeant in the First Company. It was of how a young scout used an unusual fighting force against Orks. I would have you tell it again, Chapter Master."
"Very well," said Damien Exacles. "I will share with you all the story of the Tigers of Hydrae Minor, from whom I chose our name."
"Jachen Volg, you will take the Second Company and embark upon a patrol of human and Imperial held worlds in the near Reach. Both Predators and the Land Raider will go with you and Bloodshed, Razor, and Torment will be your space arm. Questions?"
"You said human worlds, as distinct from Imperial Worlds Chapter Master," asked Volg. The veteran Marine had four service studs on his shaved head, each indicating a hundred years of service. His beak like nose had been broken and reset almost more times than could be counted.
"I did. Several of them, such as this one before we arrived, are not hostile to the Imperium. They are worth saving if they can be saved. We are the greatest sign of the God-Emperors power and our actions can help bring these worlds to us."
"Imperial interests are priorities, of course," said Jachen Volg very seriously.
"Of course captain."
"Your will, Chapter Master."
"As you know the Martian vessel has not yet arrived, but we have begun recruiting our scouts already. Zarien Cadril and the Fifth Company will take charge of training of our new recruits. Fourth Company will assist in the construction while the First and Third Company will undergo jungle training and familiarization with the local environment. I have sent communications to Delcius and the Adeptus Mechanicus have agreed to supply us in the interim."
"What did they ask of us in return?" asked Rasteen.
"The arch-magos," said Toth Arianocus, "is well aware of where the Gaun are likely to strike next, should they again attack the Illyrian Sector in force. Our purpose is not merely to defend the Imperial worlds of the Illyrian Sector and the Charybdis Reach but to be tip of the spear of the crusade of reconquest. They know we are their shield and what we ask for is a small fraction of their productive capability."
"The Chief Librarian is correct," said Damien Exacles. "And he will join Captain Cadril and the Fifth Company in training the new initiates. There is another matter, that also concerns the Delcius Forgeworld. I have ordered a substantial amount of arms and equipment for mortal men."
He paused for a moment to let the implications of his statements to sink in. "We are already calling upon on Chapter Serfs to fill every possible roll that does not absolutely require a battle brother. They are strong, intelligent, skilled, and capable and yet they are not Astartes. We, however, do not have the luxury of relying on our own strength. We will need every set of willing hands."
"You are speaking of using them in direct battlefield support roles," said Toth.
"Yes," said Damien. "They are better trained and will be better equipped than most Imperial Guardsmen. They can do more for us than act as pilots and crew. They are already acting in place of the Tech Marines and Apothecaries we do not possess. Using them as artillerymen and tankers and as an emergency reserve of troops will expand our fighting strength."
"This is greatly against the Codex," said Jachen Volg.
"It is against the Codex," began Toth, "but not without precedent in the actions of Lion El'Jonson."
"Thank you Chief Librarian. I remind you that we are no longer in the Illyrian Sector. We are in the Charybdis Reach and with only a fraction of the strength of our parent chapter. Mount Dorn will one day be the mightiest fortress this side of Ultramar, but for now are defences are a shadow of what they could be. We face Orks, renegades, Dark Eldar, and the Gaun as well as the horrors found in the depths of the Reach. We must seize every weapon we can. The Emperor demands this of us. We are the sword and shield of the Human race and we stand at the threshold of the fortress of the enemy. We need their strength."
"With respect Chapter Master," said Captain Volg, "but they are merely Human. We were made for war."
"With respect captain, in war, above all other fields of activity, Man truly excels. We are the best of Mankind and we have been remade totally into weapons, but do not let that make you underestimate our base stock. Mankind conquered much of the galaxy without us. Mortal Men , under our guidance, will prove themselves worthy of supporting the Astartes in battle. Now is the time to speak against this. Do others share Captain Volg's reservations?"
"I think our serfs are better used in noncombat roles," said Antaeous Drakon, "but I understand the necessity. They will serve us well."
"Nihlus Cataran?" Damien asked.
"All weapons, from the humblest to the most exalted, are to be employed against the enemy when their time comes," rumbled the huge First Captain. "I stand with the Chapter Master and Chief Librarian with this and I know Master of the Fleet Navaros Rasteen agrees as well. So should the rest of you. I am reminded of a story, once told to me when I was a sergeant by another sergeant in the First Company. It was of how a young scout used an unusual fighting force against Orks. I would have you tell it again, Chapter Master."
"Very well," said Damien Exacles. "I will share with you all the story of the Tigers of Hydrae Minor, from whom I chose our name."
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Speaking of Ultramar, the Ultramarines employ Ultramar's defense force in the same manner; if it is so against the Codex Astartes, one would think they wouldn't.
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Re: Crucible (40K)
It's not the working with human units, it's the incorporation of mundane humans as a part of the chapter's battlefield strength. That's against the organizational doctrine of the Codex.Rogue 9 wrote:Speaking of Ultramar, the Ultramarines employ Ultramar's defense force in the same manner; if it is so against the Codex Astartes, one would think they wouldn't.
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Serfs are used by other chapters as spaceborne forces, flying shuttles and gun batteries. The question is regarding tankers and thunderhawks. That seems to be the role of servitors.Imperial Overlord wrote:It's not the working with human units, it's the incorporation of mundane humans as a part of the chapter's battlefield strength. That's against the organizational doctrine of the Codex.Rogue 9 wrote:Speaking of Ultramar, the Ultramarines employ Ultramar's defense force in the same manner; if it is so against the Codex Astartes, one would think they wouldn't.
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Were it me, I'd rather my pilot be not lobotomized, thanks.
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Re: Crucible (40K)
An understandable sentiment even with computer implants. Servitors tend to be auxiliary or copilots in some sources, with Marines being the primary pilots and tank crews. Available manpower seems to be an important factor (explicitly so for the Nightlords in Soul Hunter).Rogue 9 wrote:Were it me, I'd rather my pilot be not lobotomized, thanks.
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Same with the Soul Drinkers, and it should be noted that the Alpha Legion (far more so than any other Legion or Chapter) also works very closely with many nonMarine humans, to the point of fielding only a few squads backing up hordes of trained insurgents.Imperial Overlord wrote:An understandable sentiment even with computer implants. Servitors tend to be auxiliary or copilots in some sources, with Marines being the primary pilots and tank crews. Available manpower seems to be an important factor (explicitly so for the Nightlords in Soul Hunter).Rogue 9 wrote:Were it me, I'd rather my pilot be not lobotomized, thanks.
You know, its remarkably easy to feed an undead army if all you have are just enemies....
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Re: Crucible (40K)
"I was a scout back then," began Damien, "still yearning for the day when I would truly become a battle-brother of the Sword Bearers. We were a fracticious bunch, but our trainers did not find us without merit."
"That much," said Zarien Cadril, "is true."
Damien smiled at the grey haired Marine. "In keeping with the traditions of the Sword Bearers we were encouraged to compete against each other in all ways. Training, mock duels, and survival excursions were not enough as we vied with each other constantly in attempts to prove our metal. I'm sure it was much the same for you my brothers, but back then memories of our old lives were still close despite the dream learning and we had not truly begun our lives as Astartes. It was the fiercest competition we had ever known. Each of us was a champion in our old life and our bodies were changing and we were growing stronger and fiercer.
"Among our number there were two who were constantly at the forefront. They were Toth Arianocus and myself. Strangely we were not rivals, but still we drove ourselves to greater heights of excellence. There was too much respect, I think, for rivalry. We knew the other to be worthy of great things and the best choice to have at his side when lives were on the line. We were kindred souls.
"The time came to test us with fire. We were sent in to the lower levels of Marmatta Hive on Ishual and we chased raiders on Kaddi but we triumphed too easily for us to be truly tested. We had tasted blood and boredom and hardship but not the horror of war."
"Aye," said Cadril, "first blood is easy but it is war that makes us truly what we are."
"You all know Hydrae Minor. It is well suited to human habitation but it is marred by the accursed presence of Orks. As it is in so many places once the greenskin taint a place it is very hard to remove that taint, even if you kill them down the last Gretchin. The Men of Hyrdae Minor used fire and fungicides to clear swaths of the Ork taint and it worked, but the land could be reinfected for the Ork taint is tenacious and aggressive like the beasts themselves. So it was that we found ourselves in the forests and grassy plains of the Immerock hunting the feral greenskin tribes.
"We wore scout armour and carried shotguns and combat knives. Our sergeant was Madregan Orreal, who most of you must remember. 'Sweat or bleed maggots! Sweat or bleed!" He paused as there were a few chuckles in memory of Madregan. "He lead us to the Orks. They weren't hard to find. He pointed out the Ork sign, the fungi that is always around their camps and the creatures that inhabit that strange ecosystem. And we hunted.
"The Orks were primitives with only a few guns and fewer machines but they could still hurt you with a spear or a cleaver. The Gretchin were sly and cunning and set traps for their enemies. They weren't bright creatures, but their senses were sharp. We learned the way of ambush and misdirection, when to kill with a knife and when to use the gun. Other scout squads made their kills and returned with trophies but Toth and I wanted to do something grander. We wanted to hurt them, as much as six scouts and a veteran could. So we went deep."
"Orreal tended to give a boy enough rope to hang himself with and Toth and I had very fancy knots in mind. We slid through the bush around a big camp. The Orks had carved it out of the edge of the forest, using the timber to build rude huts and beast pens. The mushrooms were everywhere along the edge, most just under a meter high. Things lived in that shade, but they scattered fast when anything bigger came along, which included us and the greenskins. The Ork idea of perimeter security was laughable. We moved in close while Orreal covered us with his sniper rifle and the rest of the squad hung back.
"The Orks had hunted the surrounding area and cleared out most of the game. They were eating the fungus and some of the creatures that lived in the fungus and, of course, the Gretchin. They were leaner than most Orks, just man tall and they wore red and blue paint and a little leather. Their camp was noisy enough to here half a kilometer away despite the fact they had no machines and we saw no guns. But they were Orks and would not die easy."
"Toth had a feeling about that place and we both put it down to intuition, but in hindsight it was clear that it was his psyker gifts. That was before we knew of them, of course. We wanted to bring back the tusks of a great bull Ork or failing that one of their Oddboyz, their specialists with strange abilities. That would be a prize worthy of praise, not only because it demonstrated our skill and courage but because such a loss would hurt the clan.
"There was one hut, larger than the rest, that was up on six meter tall stilts and leaned against a tree. It was at the very edge of the camp. I see in your eyes that you know what it must be and so did Orreal, but we were green scouts and he was willing to let us try. So we approached the hut and to our relief found there were no other Orks nearby. It was dark and although Orks see well in the dark the night still provided us with some concealment. Toth climbed the tree while I waited and covered him. He reached the level of the hut and then climbed around the side, slinking into the doorway as quiet as a cat. A knack he still has."
"For a moment there was nothing and then there was the sound of steel hitting flesh and blood jetting on wood. Drops of blood trickled down from the gaps in the floor boards. That's when I saw two of the biggest Orks in the camp coming straight toward us. I gave an owl call in warning and got ready to feed both of them explosive submunitions. They were arguing with each other, slapping each other on the arms and howling in their bestial tongue. They were headed right for the ladder to the hut."
"Now the ladder was in plain view of the rest of the camp, which was why Toth hadn't used it. One of the Orks began climbing while the other belched loudly. The stench was vile. It headed in my direction as it fumbled with its trousers. It looked like I was either going to shoot the Ork with a loud gun or engage one of the largest Orks in the camp in hand to hand combat by attack it from the front. Neither options was ideal. I prayed to the Throne that Madregan would shoot it, but I later learned that he didn't have a clear shot. It turned out not to matter.
"To this day I am not sure if it was the will of the Emperor or just the smell of blood that attracted it. Our Chief Librarian has mentioned that both are possible. Certainly the depletion of game made Ork a much more attractive meal for it. Whatever the reason, a tiger rose up out of the underbrush and pounced on the Ork. It was good sized beast, by Hydrae standards, massing around four hundred kilos. Its jaws closed around the back of the Ork's neck and he went down. I think it broke his neck almost instantly. The tiger then began to drag away the body.
"From above I heard a thump and then another owl call. I signaled that it was safe to come out and Toth came out with two Ork heads. We had out trophies but if it hadn't been for that tiger it could have gone badly wrong. It is a reminder, not only of the potential cost of hubris, but also of the fact that while much of the galaxy is hostile to Mankind some of it serves his will and the reach of the Emperor is without limit."
"That much," said Zarien Cadril, "is true."
Damien smiled at the grey haired Marine. "In keeping with the traditions of the Sword Bearers we were encouraged to compete against each other in all ways. Training, mock duels, and survival excursions were not enough as we vied with each other constantly in attempts to prove our metal. I'm sure it was much the same for you my brothers, but back then memories of our old lives were still close despite the dream learning and we had not truly begun our lives as Astartes. It was the fiercest competition we had ever known. Each of us was a champion in our old life and our bodies were changing and we were growing stronger and fiercer.
"Among our number there were two who were constantly at the forefront. They were Toth Arianocus and myself. Strangely we were not rivals, but still we drove ourselves to greater heights of excellence. There was too much respect, I think, for rivalry. We knew the other to be worthy of great things and the best choice to have at his side when lives were on the line. We were kindred souls.
"The time came to test us with fire. We were sent in to the lower levels of Marmatta Hive on Ishual and we chased raiders on Kaddi but we triumphed too easily for us to be truly tested. We had tasted blood and boredom and hardship but not the horror of war."
"Aye," said Cadril, "first blood is easy but it is war that makes us truly what we are."
"You all know Hydrae Minor. It is well suited to human habitation but it is marred by the accursed presence of Orks. As it is in so many places once the greenskin taint a place it is very hard to remove that taint, even if you kill them down the last Gretchin. The Men of Hyrdae Minor used fire and fungicides to clear swaths of the Ork taint and it worked, but the land could be reinfected for the Ork taint is tenacious and aggressive like the beasts themselves. So it was that we found ourselves in the forests and grassy plains of the Immerock hunting the feral greenskin tribes.
"We wore scout armour and carried shotguns and combat knives. Our sergeant was Madregan Orreal, who most of you must remember. 'Sweat or bleed maggots! Sweat or bleed!" He paused as there were a few chuckles in memory of Madregan. "He lead us to the Orks. They weren't hard to find. He pointed out the Ork sign, the fungi that is always around their camps and the creatures that inhabit that strange ecosystem. And we hunted.
"The Orks were primitives with only a few guns and fewer machines but they could still hurt you with a spear or a cleaver. The Gretchin were sly and cunning and set traps for their enemies. They weren't bright creatures, but their senses were sharp. We learned the way of ambush and misdirection, when to kill with a knife and when to use the gun. Other scout squads made their kills and returned with trophies but Toth and I wanted to do something grander. We wanted to hurt them, as much as six scouts and a veteran could. So we went deep."
"Orreal tended to give a boy enough rope to hang himself with and Toth and I had very fancy knots in mind. We slid through the bush around a big camp. The Orks had carved it out of the edge of the forest, using the timber to build rude huts and beast pens. The mushrooms were everywhere along the edge, most just under a meter high. Things lived in that shade, but they scattered fast when anything bigger came along, which included us and the greenskins. The Ork idea of perimeter security was laughable. We moved in close while Orreal covered us with his sniper rifle and the rest of the squad hung back.
"The Orks had hunted the surrounding area and cleared out most of the game. They were eating the fungus and some of the creatures that lived in the fungus and, of course, the Gretchin. They were leaner than most Orks, just man tall and they wore red and blue paint and a little leather. Their camp was noisy enough to here half a kilometer away despite the fact they had no machines and we saw no guns. But they were Orks and would not die easy."
"Toth had a feeling about that place and we both put it down to intuition, but in hindsight it was clear that it was his psyker gifts. That was before we knew of them, of course. We wanted to bring back the tusks of a great bull Ork or failing that one of their Oddboyz, their specialists with strange abilities. That would be a prize worthy of praise, not only because it demonstrated our skill and courage but because such a loss would hurt the clan.
"There was one hut, larger than the rest, that was up on six meter tall stilts and leaned against a tree. It was at the very edge of the camp. I see in your eyes that you know what it must be and so did Orreal, but we were green scouts and he was willing to let us try. So we approached the hut and to our relief found there were no other Orks nearby. It was dark and although Orks see well in the dark the night still provided us with some concealment. Toth climbed the tree while I waited and covered him. He reached the level of the hut and then climbed around the side, slinking into the doorway as quiet as a cat. A knack he still has."
"For a moment there was nothing and then there was the sound of steel hitting flesh and blood jetting on wood. Drops of blood trickled down from the gaps in the floor boards. That's when I saw two of the biggest Orks in the camp coming straight toward us. I gave an owl call in warning and got ready to feed both of them explosive submunitions. They were arguing with each other, slapping each other on the arms and howling in their bestial tongue. They were headed right for the ladder to the hut."
"Now the ladder was in plain view of the rest of the camp, which was why Toth hadn't used it. One of the Orks began climbing while the other belched loudly. The stench was vile. It headed in my direction as it fumbled with its trousers. It looked like I was either going to shoot the Ork with a loud gun or engage one of the largest Orks in the camp in hand to hand combat by attack it from the front. Neither options was ideal. I prayed to the Throne that Madregan would shoot it, but I later learned that he didn't have a clear shot. It turned out not to matter.
"To this day I am not sure if it was the will of the Emperor or just the smell of blood that attracted it. Our Chief Librarian has mentioned that both are possible. Certainly the depletion of game made Ork a much more attractive meal for it. Whatever the reason, a tiger rose up out of the underbrush and pounced on the Ork. It was good sized beast, by Hydrae standards, massing around four hundred kilos. Its jaws closed around the back of the Ork's neck and he went down. I think it broke his neck almost instantly. The tiger then began to drag away the body.
"From above I heard a thump and then another owl call. I signaled that it was safe to come out and Toth came out with two Ork heads. We had out trophies but if it hadn't been for that tiger it could have gone badly wrong. It is a reminder, not only of the potential cost of hubris, but also of the fact that while much of the galaxy is hostile to Mankind some of it serves his will and the reach of the Emperor is without limit."
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
- Chris OFarrell
- Durandal's Bitch
- Posts: 5724
- Joined: 2002-08-02 07:57pm
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Re: Crucible (40K)
Nice story...
But its REALLY against the codex to directly integrate and command human forces in the front line troop role IMHO. There is the blury line in terms of crewing ships and so on, but having Guard type soldiers directly as part of an order of battle, able to be deployed with the Marines directly?
A major core of the Codex was after all to ensure Marines NEVER again got that kind of direct command and 'ownership' of human forces, after the Heresy took place.
Now with that said, if they have them for now and then slowly roll this back in time as more Marines come on-stream, I think the Imperium could live with that, even if they keep some small number of axillary mortal units on hand for specialized work (infiltration/intelligence gathering for example).
Personally, I think its a great idea...but I'm going to be interested in how the wider Imperium looks at it. At the least, I'd expect them under a very large microscope...
Now with all that said, really liking as always your 40K work. Are we ever going to jump back to your Inquisitor fun happy times?
But its REALLY against the codex to directly integrate and command human forces in the front line troop role IMHO. There is the blury line in terms of crewing ships and so on, but having Guard type soldiers directly as part of an order of battle, able to be deployed with the Marines directly?
A major core of the Codex was after all to ensure Marines NEVER again got that kind of direct command and 'ownership' of human forces, after the Heresy took place.
Now with that said, if they have them for now and then slowly roll this back in time as more Marines come on-stream, I think the Imperium could live with that, even if they keep some small number of axillary mortal units on hand for specialized work (infiltration/intelligence gathering for example).
Personally, I think its a great idea...but I'm going to be interested in how the wider Imperium looks at it. At the least, I'd expect them under a very large microscope...
Now with all that said, really liking as always your 40K work. Are we ever going to jump back to your Inquisitor fun happy times?