In Memoria (40K)

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-16 05:37pm

This is the back story to the characters I'm playing in the 40K RPG, taken straight from the relevant thread.

Hethor

"Do you think you're tough boy?!" The grizzled sergeant was trying to be terrifying, but it seemed comical to the young recruit.

"No sergeant!" said the young recruit.

"Well you aren't! You are a piece of refuse unworthy of the Emperor's love! You- are you trying to eyeball fuck me recruit?!"

What in the Emperor's name is that? goggled the recruit. "No sergeant!" said the recruit. It seemed to be the best answer.

"Ork shit! You tried to eyeball fuck me you unworthy little heathen pissant! Drop and give me twenty!"

"Yes sergeant!" Twenty is easy, though the big farmboy. I thought this would be tough. Then the sergeant's boot came down on his shoulder.

"You're a big, strong boy. You can take it. Now give me twenty!"

"Yes sergeant." The sergeant bore down with his boot. The recruit struggled through the required number.

"Don't ever try to screw with me again recruit or you'll be in so much pain you'll wish you had become an Ork's bitch! I'll be keeping an eye on you, D'eckor!"

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-16 05:39pm

"This is a lasgun," said the sergeant holding the rod of metal and plastic before his trainees. "Some of you come from worlds so assbackwards that when you think high tech, you think crossbow. Perform the rights properly and the spirit of this weapon is supportive and reliable. It does not have a bolter's prickly pride or a plasma's moods and spite. It is so simple even you dirt brains can use it, for the lasgun is a true friend to the race of man. One day you may be worthy to bear it."

The sergeant twirled the gun and squeezed the trigger. Each time there was a loud hum and bolts of light flashed. The straw dummy started to burn. The wood dummy had a divot blown out of it and a large black scorch mark. The dummy wearing the breastplate had a noticable hole. "The lasgun will burn through armor kill its target. Some alien monstrosities will resist its righteous power. Shoot them again! They will succomb! Each time you pull the trigger, the lasgun will fire and smite an enemy of the Emperor. For those of you who can actually keep time, if you hold the trigger down this model with fire three shots a second! This weapon has killed more of the Emperor's enemies than all other hand weapons combined! You will be worthy of the mighty lasgun or you will die in training! Am I understood?"

"YES SERGEANT!" the recruits roared.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-16 05:40pm

"This is an knife, you Emperor denying maggots. It can attach it to your lasgun like this. Do you know why you have knives when you have a gun?"

"No, Sergeant!" the recruits yelled.

"Because we can't relying on you bunch of Emperor bedamned heathens not to fuck up shooting the enemy! Because in the 40 millenia of human history, all armies have had a use for the knife! And you will learn to love this knife.! In fact you will learn to love this knife more than the Emperor loves you! And do you know why!"

"No sergeant!"

"Because the knife, unlike you, will be absolutely faithful. The knife will serve you better than you will serve the Emperor! Until you can match the faithfulness of this knife, you will not truly be members of the Imperial Guard. Form up for close combat drill!"
_________________

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-16 05:41pm

"Hey, buddy this your first drop?" said the soldier beside him.

"Yes," said Hethor.

"Don't sweat it," said the man beside him. "Too bad this isn't a mixed unit. A few women would make this ride easier. Say buddy, you got any tabac?"

"Yah, they gave us some a while back. Don't know why. Here, take it," he said passing the pack over.

"Thanks buddy," said the other soldier. He drew one out and flicked a match against his stubble. He tucked the pack away and took a long drag. "Ah. Got hooked on Menthas Minor. You one of the replacements?"

"Yes," he replied.

"There grabbing people from every shit hole and sticking people everywhere to bring regiments up to strength. Do you know what that means? Casualties, lots of them. They're losing people so fast they are mix and matching regiments because they can't get gear for new foundings fast enough. Get used to seeing people die around you, if we make it down."

"If we make it down?" asked Hethor.

"We're doing a hot landing in a drop pod. Maybe three out of four will make it to the ground. The rest will buy it from bad landings, malfunctions, and enemy fire. From the ways the navy boys talk, enemy fire is the least of your problems when riding these things." The veteran took a long drag on the stick. "Better smoke them if you've got them."

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-16 08:49pm

Trooper D'eckor walked through the village. "Heretical activity in this sector," the Commissar had said. "Scourge it clean," was her order. The vanguard had done that. They had reduced to village to a burnt out shells filled with charred corpses. Some of them were so tiny that they couldn't have been born live, but must have been cut from there mother's wombs.

Small lines of young women, naked, hobbled, and battered, had been trucked back from the front lines. The locals apparently had strong feelings about this kind of thing and after they were displayed through the surrounding regions they were sent to be slave-prostitutes for units rotating back from the frontline. The Imperial Commander wanted it to be clear he was taking a hard stance.

It bothered D'eckor. Places like this reminded him too much of home. But he was just too tired. He had seen too many people die near him, fired out into the darkness too many times, finished off too many wounded men. He was just wrung out. He kept slogging forward. Anyone not in Imperial uniform was an enemy to be killed and to do otherwise was to face the Commissar.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-16 08:52pm

Corporal D'eckor pumped las blasts into the beast's torso. Sometime between blast four and five it decided to drop and be seriously injured. D'eckor kept shoting, putting the holes in its chest up to seven and added a double tap to the head. "Fuck this! There has got to be an easier way of killing them. "

He was given the chance of finding out a moment later. Another Ork rounded the bend, a huge pistol in one hand, a thirty pound cleaving blade in the other. D'eckor shot it point blank in the face. Twice. It dropped. "Praise be to the Emperor, that's more fucking like it!"

"P'terson, you take point," he said singling out the greenest member of his squad. If someone was going to buy it, better him than a proven veteran. His first campaign had taught him that. In this, his second, he was putting it into practice.

P'terson scrambled ahead. The newbie was shaking like a leaf. He's not going to fucking make it, D'eckor analyzed. Might as well give him all the hazardous duties until someone more expendable came along.

The sound of the world's noisiest gang of hooligans reached him over the shelling. "Back," he snarled. "Fall back." The trenches were arrayed in a zig-zag pattern back when the Imperial Guard dug them before the Orks took them. The bend's were the best defences available under these conditions.

The squad hustled back. P'terson tripped and was got half stuck in the mud for a moment. Fucking imbecile, Hethor thought. It was fatal. The Orks rounded the bend before P'terson hit cover. They riddled his body with bullets and he fell.

The squad returned fire. The had crouched down by the bend or gone prone for better cover. The greenskin lumbered forward, firing their big, unreliable guns and filling the air the bullets. The first one madie it half the distance before falling from las wounds.

The second got two steps further before Rawlin's kneecapped it. Hethor was up top, firing down into the trench on his belly. It was a lousy fucking position, but it gave him some cover from this bunch and a decent firing arc.

Number four took it in the face from Hass'n. She was a cold bitch, make no mistake, but she was a damn good fighter. Rumour had it that her squad was gang raped by a bunch of Menthans from 2nd battalion and she hadn't been the same since. The Menthans thought they owned the greenies and they stole, bullied, and abused them whenever they could. The fucking Commissar turned a blind eye, thought it was good that the men were being toughened up. Bitch. Hethor put one in number five' neck, another in his face, and another in what was left of his skull. The Ork toppled.

Number six was practically ontop of the guardsmen before it fell. Number seven's machine gun had jammed and he proceeded to try and bash Gregar's head in. Greg tripped and fell back. Hethor put three rounds into number eight's right arm, crippling it. It still came forward, wielding a huge chopper. Rawlin's put two in its' torso, which was covered in leather and mail. It didn't go down and buried it's chopper in Rawlin's back. Hass'n finished off number six as Hethor put down number eight.

Nine shot Hass'n at point blank in the chest with a hand cannon. She slumped, maybe dead, maybe injured. Gregar pumped las bolts into it. Number ten reached for Hethor and yanked him into the trench by the barrel of his lasgun.

Emperor preserve me, D'eckor thought. D'eckor was big and damned strong, but the Ork had more than a foot on him and was even more powerfully built. It didn't have a gun, it having discarded it for either jamming or running out of ammo some time in the past. The chopper in its hand was more than enough to finish the fight.

D'eckor sprung forward. He had learned that the Orks had a few good points. Their gear was unreliable, their supply methods were a joke, they were stupid as well as cunning, and they were slow. The Ork had been moving up to finish a human scrambling away. D'eckor collided with it, inside the reach of its chopper.

D'eckor moved. In a second the Ork would grab or batter him with it's free hand and then finish him with the chopper. That was unavoidable. So he stabbed his knife deep into the muscles of the Ork's right bicep and twisted. The ork flinched back, taking his knife with it.

The green skin grunted and tried to lift its' chopper. It succeeded. Hethor butted it in the jaw with his helmet, breaking teeth. It grunted and slapped him with its left hand. Hethor realed back. Damn, I thought that would be worse, he thought. It ain't so tough. Rawlin's lasgun was nearby.

The ork transfered its chopper to its other hand, leaving the knife still sticking in the wound. Hethor swung the lasgun in a swift arc. The but shattered on contact with the Ork's skull, but the greenskin dropped. Hethor looked around. The other Ork was down, its torso an oozing ruin. So was Gregar. The Ork in front on him stirred and tried to get up. D'eckor kicked back down and then stomped it in the face.

He applied his boot a dozen more times. Then he ripped his knife out of its arm and went to work.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 12:08am

D'eckor swirled the amber liquid in his glass and studdied his cards for the third time. The Emperor had not interviened and the hand was still a dog. He sipped some the substance that the local's alleged was whiskey and through the cards in. The tension dropped noticably amoung his fellow gamblers. D'eckor leaned back in his chair. He was the lord of all he surveyed.

The CO of the firebase was a colonel, but he rarely left his dugout and was probably on something most of the time. The commissar was a liability and was probably going to get scragged sooner or later. The dumb fuck had gotten too many soldiers killed to be tolerated. Most of the officers were slightly less useless.

But Sergeant D'eckor came back with more men and killed more of the enemy than anyone else. That his killbag included the previous commissar (false, that had really been the enemy) and a green lieutenant (false, it was a lieutenant and the major) was widely rumoured. Nobody said anything. D'eckor was hard, but he brought his boys back. And some numbers that made the officers look better.

The Commissar came in. Everybody stood up and saluted, even Hethor. The commissar walked up to him. He was young and a little scrawny, with a fanatic's gleam in his eye. Rumour had it he had been shot six times by Orks at close range and survived. Hethor had talked with a medicae and knew better. It was seven times.

"Sergeant, I want you to round up two squads of men."

"Yes commissar. In what way shall we serve the Emperor?" Commissar's ate this shit up. So did Maddox.

"I will brief you in half an hour," said the commissar.

I can have them in five minutes, idiot thought Hethor. What he said was "Yes commissar." He didn't need the briefing. The commissar's attempt at maintaining need to know was laughable. It was another sweep and kill mission through the highlands, using a variation of one of the three routes. The bonehead officers were only slightly smarter than Orks. Maybe he should frag the colonel, get some new blood here. Couldn't be any worse than the current lot, thought Hethor, deciding the issue. This pointless stalemate was going to continue until it killed him unless he did something about it.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 12:09am

Brutal, bloody, pointless stalemate. For six months the brass had been dreaming up of new offensive to break through the enemy line. Four bloody failures. Four failures to break the line, four failures, to punch through and attack the planetary defense batteries. Four failures to weaken the enemy enough to bring the navy in the war. Four failures to get closer to victory.

You didn't need to be a genius to figure out that there was going to be attempt number five in the near future. Hethor knew when his regiment got rotated near the front that it was their turn to bleed and die. The chances of him getting his ass shot off because a general who only understood frontal assault was going to fail to learn for a fifth time was far too high.

There were some other clues which did not bode well. Those stuck up "elite" stormtroopers were patrolling in squads lead by junior commissars. The placement and coverage of heavy stubbers and multilasers batteries was also less than reassuring. Someone, probably a commissar, understood these suicide charges were less than popular with the troops. Hethor considered his options and decided now was the time to "volunteer" to lead a sweep and kill mission through the woods. It was a death trap crawling with enemy troops, but at least his life wouldn't be in the hands of the jackass general in charge of this operation.

"Sergeant D'eckor!" sounded from behind him. A green louie with fancy shoulderboards was standing behind him, along with several other officers and . . . . .Colonel Stran. What in the Emperor's name was Stran doing here? These guys weren't in his regiment.

"Yes sir!" said D'eckor, saluting as the officers approached.

"You and your platoon have been selected for a special assignment. Assemble them at point Upsilon three in one hour!"

"Yes sir!" Replied D'eckor. Maybe the bone heads were going to send him into the woods after all. But assembling in the daylight? Trust the brass to fuck up a stealth mission. They were going to make it damn hard for him not to get killed in this ratfuck of a mission.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 02:45am

Hethor got his boys and girls over to the martialing area. They probably hated his guts but they knew survival rates in Hethor's platoon compared to everyone else's. If Hethor could just manage to avoid having them assign another lieutenant, everything would be golden.

There were a lot of troops over here. A quick glance told him that a good third were stormtroopers and commissar cadets and the rest were light infantry. The Emperor have mercy. They're going to have us assualt something. But there was something wrong here. Too much brass. Why were they here to get their asses shot off. They were far too close to the heretics' guns.

The hatch of an unfamiliar armoured vehicle opened and Hethor's question was answered. The figure that emerged was huge. His dark green armour added even more bulk to his frame. Metal studds glinted on his forehead. Even without the armour, he must have been as massive as a bull Ork.

"Soldiers of the Emperor," the demi-god shouted. The chosen of the Emperor's voice carried like he was hooked up to a vox projector. "We are the Dark Angels! We will lead you to victory over the heretic scum who dare raise their hands against our beloved Emperor. Bow! Bow and give thanks to the Emperor that you will have the privalege of acting as His instruments of punishment."

"The Emperor knows that you are weak. The Emperor knows that you are not the equal of his Space Marines. The Emperor will allow you to prove your worth to him by slaying his enemies. For with service to the Emperor, redemption is possible! Soldiers of the Empire, prepare to follow the Dark Angels into battle and to victory! All hail, the Emperor!"

"THE EMPEROR!"

"THE EMPEROR!"

"THE EMPEROR!"

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 02:45am

Eight demi-squads of Dark Angels lead the way through the woods. More than a thousand Imperial Guard troopers tried to keep up with two score Space Marines. Marine scouts had already been at work, the grisly evidence of their skills littered through the forest like leaves in autumn. It wasn't until they closed with enemy lines that there was any resistance.

Hethor heard the shots and overran the destroyed positions. With their autosenses, auspexes, and augmented abilites, the Astartes found and killed nests of the enemy without pause. The skirmish line gunned down heretic soldiers on the run, firing and moving with superb accuracy. The barely slowed to finish the wounded, stomping on skulls with their armoured feet.

Hethor hustled his people forward. The commissar were in the back and the Marines only had eyes for the front. A small knot of the enemy managed to survive the Marine's initial volley. D'eckor's platoon added their fire to that of the Marines. None of the return fire came their way. The few feeble shots were fired at the Marines, with the only hit glancing on a shoulder guard. The Astartes continued their advance.

The Marines continued to push forward. Eventually they stopped to allow the guard to catch up as their scouts continued to work ahead. Hethor's people had barely gotten their breath back before the Marines pushed on again. They were in the enemy's part of the woods now and Hethor understood the plan.

The forest was impassable to most vehicles. Almost all the defenses would be anti-infantry with the most of the anti-tank placed well away, along the gap where four previous Guard assaults had drowned in blood. Anti-infantry weapons against the Astartes? They would cut through and shred the defenders, rolling them up from the flanks. That's why all the vets and the stormtroopers. Not to prevent the force from breaking, but to insure that they Astartes had the support necessary to win.

Adrenaline flowed through his body. He wasn't being sent to die. He was being sent to kill.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 02:46am

The Astartes barely hesitated at the forest's edge. A few quick orders deployed them in a spear point with the Guard on the flanks. Missle launchers lashed out at weapon emplacements as the other Astartes fired frag grenades from their bolters into anything resembling a strong point. As their battle brothers laid down a hail of murderous fire, a score advanced at a run towards the enemy lines.

Guard forced poured more fire in. "Charge," yelled an officer or commissar, Hethor couldn't tell which. His men stormed foreward. The Space Marines had first targeted the few anti-armour weapons and they had more than succeeded. Shattered multilasers and heavy stubbers gave mute testimony to the deadly effectiveness of the Space Marine gunners. The Astartes in the lead drew most of the remaining fire, but it was spotty and inaccurate. Anyone taking a shot at the Astartes risked a lethal return volley from his battle brothers.

The charging Marines hurled grenades with all the might of their augmented arms. They landed in fox holes and gun pits, shredding flesh. They landed in front of the firing slits of bunkers, blocking them with billowing smoke. They were followed up by a hail of deadly bolter fire and charging Astartes. Nothing survived.

As the first battle brother hit the line, the other half advanced. Imperial Guard fire teams remained, supressing what little pockets of resistance remained. The charging Marines fired from the hip at anyone who dared to target them. That any of their shots hit at all was testimony to their accuracy. More than a few rounds hit. The Astartes had killed more than five times their number and had yet to loose a man.

Hethor hit the line just ahead of the Marine second wave. The bulk of their armour did nothing to hinder their speed. Hethor's platoon stormed through the gunnery pits, finishing the dead and the dying, and securing the area for reinforcements.

The Astartes continued their advance. Ahead lay the artillery batteries, unprotected by the shattered defensive line. The line had been broken, but the Marines had yet to rip through the exposed units. Hethor moved up to support the Astartes. There was a lot of killing to be done and the Astartes could only carry so much ammo.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 02:52am

Hethor stroked the gorget he had earned all those years ago, fighting along side the Dark Angels. He had seen then and there what it was to be truely be a soldier of the Emperor. He had not forgotten.

He was almost jolted out of his seat by the bump. It was almost over here. His regiment had been chewed up again and again. They were down to fewer than half their numbers and the campaign was almost over. One last push, that was what the colonel said. One last push.

The Governor's palace had to be taken intact. Minimum damage. Hethor didn't know why and didn't care. He just knew that the job had to be done.

So here he was sitting in an advancing Chimera while artillery plastered the palace with blind and frag shells. It was the usual "full ahead charge" Guard assualt favored by far too many commanders. D'eckor knew better and held them in contempt. He was going to bring about victory regardless of the incompetence of his superiors.

"Sarge," said Krain. "Can I have your tabac?" D'eckor's face was impassive as he tossed the pack to Krain. Krain was a steady man, but he was weak. His indulged in a vice that weakened him on the field of battle. Hethor had no tolerance of those in himself, but knew that there was only so much his men would put up with.

The multilaser and heavy bolters were firing now. They were getting close now. The Chimera shook as something clanged off of its hull. Hethor checked his rifle again. He was using the Triplex model instead of the rapid fire Necromundia pattern carbine. He jacked the level to full power. Hethor favored one shot kills over spray and pray, at least with small arms. Of course, not very many people were as steady as he was in a fight.

The signal went off. The Chimera's hatch swung open a moment as the grenade launchers fired. Hethor ran into the smoke and chaos of battle.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 02:53am

Hethor lead his men through the smoke accross the palace grounds. The thunder of battle raged all around them as the Chimeras and support teams tried to take out every enemy shooter. Fire came back from the windows and the gaps in the walls as the traitors resisted. Four of the Imperial tanks were already burning.

Hethor pointed. "Zash, hit it!" The trooper pumped a frag grenade into the gap in the palace's side. There was some kind of stubber emplaced there. The grenade landed just in fron, spraying shrapnel. Hethor pumped full strength laser shots in. Kal and Nerek pumped full auto volleys inside. The stubber fired back, chewing up Caldreth's legs. The emplacement exploded as Zash put another frag grenade in, this time directly on target. Ammo and something else exploded.

Hethor lunged foreward, Lenns coming just behind. Las fire continued to flash in and no enemy fire came out. Lenns closed the range and opened up with his flamer. Screams came from within. Hethor waited a moment and then chucked in another grenade. There was a dull whump as it went off. The guardsmen followed their sergeant inside.

Two traitors were still twitching. The wore a mix of metal and leather, remnants of some cult force. Hethor finished each one with a high power shot to the head and switched his power cell. "Take us foreward Kal," Hethor ordered.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 02:54am

Kal stuck his head out the door and prompley fell back twitching with a hole in his head. "Fuck!" swore Hethor. He bounced a smoke out the door and down the corridor. For good measure he tossed one the other way. He ducked low and popped out.

It was a long corridor, at least a hundred meters as far as he could see. Several traitors were retreating from other rooms that faced the advancing guard, obviously pulling back in the face of the Guard assault. He could see the bright boy who punched Kal's ticket, one of the Scravian Elite. He was still very pretty with his shiny metal breatplate, vambraces, and greaves over flak armour and his fancy mirror faced helmet. He was also faster than D'eckor and a good shot. The bolt from the Scravian's carbine punched through Hethor's flak armour over his right shoulder.

Which is why Hethor was using a max powered Triplex. The Scravians wore good armour and favored a high cycle rate but low powered carbine for close quarters work. With their heavy armor there was less chance of serious friendly fire issues when they filled the air with lasbolts. The looted mesh tunic he was wearing under the flak jacket drank up most of the rest of shot, although it hurt like hell. Hethor's return shot blew a hole in his chest and Hethor put another one into the chest before he toppled, just to be sure.

The retreating traitors had an inclinging they were being flanked when Hethor's boys joined him in putting las rounds into them. Nerek pumped fire in the other direction. In moments the Eastern Promenard of the Grand Palace of Illizak, ancient home and headquarters to the Imperial Commander of the Tannezed System was empty of all life except for those who wore the emblems of the Imperial Guard.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 02:55am

Hethor checked around the corner with mirror. Several bolts flickered down the corridor, one of them hitting the mirror, causing it to explode. So much for shaving.

"Bad?" asked Gellmenn.

"Bad. Fucking Scravians. Improvised barracade. At least six of 'em. Maybe 30 meters back. Fuck the Governor's Grand fucking Promenade. And either they can shoot or worse, they're fucking lucky."

Hanto cracked a grin. "Hey sarge, too bad we can't borrow a Terminator with an assault cannon for, say ten seconds."

Hethor scowled. "One battle brother with a bolter, five seconds. Tops." He paused for a moment. "Okay, enough fucking around. Those fucking Scravians aren't going to kill themselves."

Hethor checked his weapons. Knife. Triplex Rifle. Frag grenades. Blind grenade. Two krak grenades. Stubber. Las pistol. Everything loaded and ready to go. Now he just needed a plan that wouldn't involve getting everyone killed. What would a Dark Angel do?

Direct frontal attack on such a well defended position? No, they were brave not stupid. Something to even the odds. Hethor looked up at the soot stained ceiling with it massive stained glass windows set in gilded, baroque frames. Most of the windows were shattered now, jagged chunks of glass clutching empty frames. He looked back down the long hall with generations of Imperial Commanders memorialized on pedestal mounted white marble busts, now scored the shrapnel and lasfire. Hethor smiled. He had an idea.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 02:57am

Nek attached the demo charge and backed away. The serg could always be relied upon to pull his boys and girls through any mess and this one was no exception. Standing to close to him could be hazardous. "Fire in the Hole!" he yelled. He backed behind the wall and triggered the explosive.

Debris blew through the doorway in a thunderous cloud of smoke. Damn that blast was loud. Nek and Gellmenn looked back in. Yep they had blasted through the wall. The grass was nice and green out there, because the Guard wasn't assaulting from this side. The shear cliff just beyond the palace grounds probably had something to do with that. Clutching their sacks, the two men exited and edged along the wall.

"Are we there?" Nek asked.

"About so," said Gellmenn. He looked up. "Hey the windows are still intact." Above him towered a eight meter high depiction of the Emperor vanquishing xenos.

"What do we do?" Nek asked.

"He'll expect us to do our duty," said Gellman as he raised his lasgun. He didn't feel good about this. God-Emperor, Master of Mankind, forgive me. He fired. Las bolts tore the beautiful image of the Emperor apart. For good measure Gellmenn cleared out the adjoining frames, bearing the images of Sebastian Thor and Rogal Dorn. Rainbow shards fell to earth.

"Let's do it," said Gellmenn retreating several steps. Both he and Nek reached into their bags and threw in a high arc. Inside, deadly flowers of steel shrapnel errupted around the barricade.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 02:59am

Hethor rolled out and fired as the grenades burst around the Scravians. Little J poured out full auto on his carbine and charged. Hethor watched with awe. He's even crazier than I am! He sergeant hustled foreweard to the fucking inadequate cover provided the nearest niche. Inadequate was better than none.

Zash began to pump fire from his grenade launcher down towards the Scravians. Two of them were returning fire. Hethor shot one of them in the head. Krain had dashed to the other side of the corridor and was advancing that way. Fuck this was a mess!

Hethor hustled to the next niche, snapping off a shot as he ran. The return fire was still spotty and inaccurate. Several of Hethor's boys were pumping fire foreward, trying to supress the Scravians's fire. As Hethor closed he learned one thing: there was a lot more than six of the fuckers.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 03:00am

It went to hell in an instant. Just as the grenade from outside ceased, Zash scored a direct hit on a Scravian with his launcher. Good, another down and shrapnel in the area where Hethor wanted it to be. Then some Scravian fucker and stitched Krain up good when he was still in the open. Krain went down.

Little J put the fucker down but another Scravian had an underbarrel grenade launcher on his las. He sent a round back toward's Hethor's fire support. Then another Scravian hit little Little J. The shot caught him high in the chest and he staggered. Hethor put the shooter down hard with his Triplex. Two other Scravians stitched up J real bad. At least a half dozen hits to the torso. At close range. Little J went down hard. There was no way short of direct intervention by Lion El Johnson that Little J was going to get back up ever again.

Hethor burned down one of the Scravians. The other fired wildly. It was hard to shoot straight when your target was shooting back. It wasn't a big problem for everyone. Hethor, for example. He punched two shots into the Scravian, almost severing his right arm and blowing open his left lung. The Scravian spun and fell.

Hethor was close now. He fired low, just over the barricade as he charged. His shots kept their heads down as his power cell bled dry. He dropped the las and drew his pistol.

He shot the first one in the chest. And again and again and again. The fucker then decided to fall. Even at point blank, a laspistol only blasted small holes in flesh after burning through all that armour. He shot the next one in the neck and got a much more satisfying result. To bad that the Scravian shot him twice in the chest. Holy Emperor, it hurt. Both men fell.

There was only one left, a Scravian with an officer's red piping. He raised a beautiful curved sword over his head-

And was cut down by half a dozen shots from Hethor's boys. "You lose," Hethor snarled.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 03:02am

Hethor raised the glass and drank. The sweet orange juice mixed in meant that the grain alcohol actually tasted like something. He gulped half the glass and put it down. Praise the Emperor, he needed that.

A woman walked in. She was all wrong for this place. While not quite dirty, this place wasn't exactly clean either. It's customers had more than a few rough edges and the bouncers were big and earned their paychecks.

She was simply dressed, but their was something classy about her that didn't fit. Her dark hair was tied up with a short braid. There were grey strands here and there and crowfeet around her eyes. A slight smile on her lips. She was pretty good looking for a broad her age. She pulled out the chair on the other end of the table and spun it around. She sat down, leaning foreward over the chair's back.

"I didn't tell you you could sit here," said Hethor coldly. He didn't know what the fuck was going on, but there was no way he was going into it blindly.

"A little early for that," she said waving at his glass. She smiled, showing teeth that were way too good. She had to have serious juice to have teeth that good around here and most people of her age with that kind of juice had gotten scragged. The Arbites had spent three days shooting their prisoners. That meant she was probably from offworld.

"A man with responsibilities like yourself, getting drunk this early in the day. Might cost you your position as foreman if you keep going this way."

"Fuck you bitch," Hethor replied. He would have to get pretty ragged before they would fire him.

"Of course, with your sideline as a bonebreaker for a moneylender, you do have another job. You could do your drinking somewhere better."

"Fuck you twice, bitch" he answered. You didn't need to go to someplace fancy to get blitzed. And there you couldn't kick ass.

"How are the memories sergeant?" she asked. "Lot of dead you are carrying with you. Did a lot of service to the Imperium."

Hethor stood up, his face contorting in rage. She knew way too much about him. A the bar a weedy man stood up straight. He was with her, but too small to be muscle, unless he was really good muscle. She could afford really good muscle. She put something on the table, uncovered it for a moment, and then picked it up. It was an Inquisitional rosette. He was truly fucked.

"The campaign was over, the worlds retaken. They didn't bother with the smashed regiments, did they sergeant? How many hundred men left in yours? Two, three? Out of a founding of full strength of how many thousand? Not worth it to ship you somewhere you were needed and build you back to strength, so they discharged you. How many years did you serve sergeant?" She must have already known the answer.

"Eighteen."

"How many of the Emperor's enemies did you kill sergeant?"

"I lost count. After fifty three, I stoped counting." He had been at fifty three when he saw the Dark Angels.

"So here you are, a discarded piece of the mighty Imperial War Machine, fighting, drinking, gambling, and fucking yourself to death," she said.

"What do you want?" he asked

"I want you to serve the Imperium again sergeant. Very few men swept the basement levels."

"We didn't sweep 'em," his throat was dry. He didn't want to think about there again. "We just secured the entrance for a special purge team."

"Yes," she replied. "That's were things go wrong. They were suppossed to be swept before they were burned, but that didn't happen. The inquisitor who should have seen to it was killed by a booby trap earlier in the day and the monodominant fool told no one of what he wanted. So everything got burned, without it being investigated. The purge team's identity isn't even recorded. The disposition of the 322nd Menthian Strikers is."

"What do you want with me?" he rasped.

"Something is stirring and it has a foothold in the palace. It was exactingly rebuilt. A need a tough man who can show me the way and Hethor D'eckor, you are that man."

"Who are you?" Hethor asked.

"I am Kyra Neven and my companion is Jolan Gix. Welcome back into the Emperor's service."

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 03:03am

Anjun

The temple was the biggest place he had ever seen. Even here, during dark cycle the holos on the ceiling were beautiful. It was kind of scary. All big and dark and empty. And he was still hungry.

"When are we going to eat mama?" he cried.

She hugged him. "Soon, Anjun, soon. Mama just has to do something to get us food. Now you stay here and I'll be back soon." She kissed him on the forehead and hustled down the isle. The priest in his shiny red robe with all the gold was there. He and mama talked for a little big and then went behind the altar.

Anjun figited. He had been told to stay put, but he was bored. He would go check on mama and asked. He crept up, being real careful. There were some strange noises coming from behind the altar. Anjun peaked around the side and saw the priest had his robe open and his mama was kneeling in front of him. What has going on?

His moma saw him and stopped what she was doing. The priest slapped mama and said, "I don't care. Finish if you want the food chit." A tear rolled down mama's cheek.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 06:26am

"Hey," said Anjun.

The man didn't look up from the candies spread across the table.

"I was wondering, if I could, you know, step up," said Anjun.

"Step up?" His voice contained no warmth. Just the icy chill of drawn steel.

"Well, running and look out is okay, but I need more cred. I can do deliveries. And sell. I'm good with numbers," he said.

"Trusting you with a package is a big step," said the man. "Don't fuck it up. Your mother hasn't hit rock bottom yet and you have a long way to fall."

"That means I can?" he asked excitedly.

"Vren, get him a package. We got a new merchant."

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 06:27am

Anun jinked right and fired back. The autopistol sprayed small calibre soft nosed slugs in his attacker's general direction. The hive rat ducked back behind a corner as Chou hot footed into an alley. He could here them coming behind him. A crossbow dart wizzed past him, missing by a handspan. The young ganger leaped into a recessed doorway and returned fire.

That sent the hive rats leaping for cover behind piles of garbage. Hands shaking, Anjun ejected the clip on the autopistol. He grabbed a new clip, almost dropped it and fumbled as he inserted it into the but of his gun. In the middle of this process, one of the hive rats decided to rush him.

The ganger was almost on top of him. He was shorter and scrawnier than Chou, who wasn't the tallest man he knew by a long shot and liked to think of himself as lean. The hive rat's teeth were rotten and his rags stank. Chou put a dozen bullets into his chest. The hive rat shook at the impacts and fell, his torso red ruin. The other fired a handbow at Anjun's head. The bolt skittered off the wall by his head.

Anjun fired back. One of his slugs went in through the hive rat's left eye and blew out the back of his skull. He fell. Chou looked out. No one else was out there. He slipped out of the alley, hugging the shadows. He had protected his turf and High Ones woud be pleased. He might be able to move up soon, or get more territory. He was whistling as he headed home.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 06:29am

Anjun was awed by the club. Hidden beneath one of the hive stacks it was the most opulent building he had ever been in, even grander than the Ecclesiastical Cathedral. Holos flashed and revolved on the ceiling and crawled along the walls, changing too rapidly for one to be quite sure about what you saw. Their was music, not church music, and it was loud and stired the blood. People danced, wearing a fortune or practicaly nothing, or both. Drugs and booze flowed freely. He had found paradise.

He knew where he was supposed to go, but he couldn't see it through the crowd. Pushing his way through, he finally spotted the High One. Anjun slithered through the mass, heading his way. A wall of muscle blocked his path. "I'm Anjun," he shouted over the music. "He wanted to see me." The muscle moved.

The High One was attended by three women. One wore skin tight armour and wore spring talons. A las was in easy reach. Another wore glittery gold fabric and was sniffing 'blot through through an ivory tube embossed with gold. The third was maybe fourteen with metallic hair. She was naked, except for some paint, and giggling. The High One didn't notice him for a moment and then gestured for him to sit.

Chou was wearing his most glitz clothes, but he knew he was like a scavy to the High One. The High One was at least a little drunk. "Chou, you earn well. Real well. And you only steal a little. That means your smart. And your smooth. We're going to move you up."

Anjun's draw jumped. He was going to become a boss. A distributer. People would come to him for packages. 'Who's territory?" he asked.

The boss looked at him for a moment. "No, not like that. We're going to move you up," he said pointing to the sealing. "Gone wheel and deal with the top level. Become their friends and their suppliers. Higher return, less risk. Make us all more money, make some uplevel friends for us. You can never have enough uplevel friends. You do this right, you got a big future." Chou sat there dazed, stars in his eyes.

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 06:30am

Anjun was walking home, a joy girl under one arm and a joy boy under the other when the raid happened. A shot banged out, ricocheting against an Arbites Rhino. That drew Anjun's attention to the scene happening way down the avenue, during the darklight hour. The Arbites were after something, mutants or heretics most likely. It didn't matter. Their response was predictable.

Combat shotguns opened up. Pintel mounted storm bolters raked the building. A larger vehicle opened up with multiple autocannons. The arbites poured fire and flame into the building for a full minute. When they were finished the front half was gone and the back half was burning. The Arbite's silheoutes were visible against the fire's glow as they swept for any survivors.

They drove away after a few minutes. Two buildings were cratered from autocannon rounds going through the wreckage and hitting another building. One of them was beginning to burn. The adeptus didn't care. The priests didn't care. The nobles didn't care. The Imperial Commander didn't care. Why should Anjun Chou?

Imperial Overlord · Post by **Imperial Overlord** » 2005-05-17 06:31am

"Hey Anjun!"

"Alexos!" Anjun suantered over to the noble. They exchanged a complicated series of hand gestures. "Nice party."

The young noble extended his arms. "Welcome to my palace." There were scores of nobles sprawled among the cushions of the cavernous rooms. Each one was attended by at least two hangers on attending to his or her debauched needs. Laviscious holos danced through the room, some of them performing rather improbable acts of intercourse.

The young noble pulled Anjun closer. "Do you have the stuff?"

"Yah. No prob."

"Good. We're ah . . . .using it a little faster than I thought."

No shit, thought Anjun. This lot could snort through a mountain of drugs the size of a spyre in a weekend. "No prob. I was able to get some more stuf. You'll know better for next time."

Alexus smiled broadly. His teeth were inlaid with mother of pearl. "Yah, I guess I will." He put his arm around Chou's shoulders. "But for now enjoy the party. As my personal guest." He steered Chou towards a low table. Silk clab beauties reclining there rose to meet them.