Well, this group is for 40k (But NOT at all limited to, this is open to all Science Fiction and Fantasy) writers (And Fans!) to help each other in their writings, story lines, and whatever! Since the "40k Fan Group" is the most popular group here on Moddb (besides it being far from biggest), it could be cool to have something like this around for those of us who like to just think up our own stories N whatnot. Everyone is invited! -The Emperor Protects
|Sep 12 2011 Anchor|
Thought of the Day: Carry the Emperor’s will as your torch,
with it destroy the shadows.
The Yevyr System, 892.M41
The bridge of the battle barge The Fist of Retribution was abuzz with commotion; the ancient ship, belonging to the
Normally, this would have been a joyous occasion; the various Companies of the Praetorians rarely got to see each, due to their largely decentralized organization. But this was different, something wasn’t right. The Pride of the Omnissiah wasn’t responding to the Fist’s calls. It wasn’t even moving anywhere, its engines where deactivated, the ship was aimlessly drifting in space.
Captain Primus was on the bridge, attempting to figure out what was happening. “Shipmaster Vardis, have you been able to get through to the Pride?” he asked.
The ancient, scarred figure of Ship Master Rafael Vardis looked up from his command lectern, “No, we have not been able to get through to the Ship; they haven’t responded to our Vox signals or Astropathic messages,” he paused for a minute, “Perhaps they are just having some sort of technical issues.”
Someone snorted from behind Primus, and he turned to see who it was. It was their Company Champion, Luthor Hoth. He was only 109 years of age, one of the youngest Marines in the Company. But he was, without a doubt, one of the most skilled fighters, having more battle honors than most Veterans of the company.
“I highly doubt that the Adeptus Mechanicus are having technical problems, Ship Master,” Hoth said with a smile, “If you haven’t noticed, they make their
Primus chuckled, while Vardis scowled, “You should learn to respect your Elders, boy,” he said with a sneer.
Before Luthor was able to reply, Captain Primus said: “Enough. We need to figure out what’s going on with the Pride. Luthor’s probably right. It’s most likely more than a simple mechanical failure. Assemble the Company. We’re going to board the Pride and figure out what’s going on.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Vardis said quickly, “If nothing’s wrong with the ship, the Mechanicus would be unhappy with our intrusion.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Primus replied, “Luthor. Head down to the Hangers, tell the Techpriests to prepare the Thunderhawk’s for a boarding action.”
"Yes, Captain,” Luthor said with a bow.
A hush fell across the bridge of the Fist of Retribution; the entire human crew stared out the view ports into the void, across thousands of miles, towards the small figure of the Mechanicus ship. No knew what they would find on the ship. But if Primus had known what was on it, he would’ve ordered the Fist of Retribution to open fire with its Bombardment Cannon, instead of boarding the ship.
Alright. So, my computer seems to have crapped out on me, because I wasn't able to find my original copy of Part 1 of the Void. I'm labeling this as "Part 1 of Part 1", since it's only a small part of what I want 'Part 1' to be. I'll be putting up random updates to Part 1-1 randomly throughout the week.
"Thirty seconds" the servitor's monotone voice called out over the loudspeaker system.
Captain Primus and the rest of the Praetorians where rapidly approaching the Pride of the Omnissiah. The company was broken up into thirds, each one aboard a different Thunderhawk and each one with their own objective. The first, section led by Primus himself, would secure and hold the Bridge area, the second led by Sergeant Antioch would secure the crew holdings while the third, led Chaplain Zamiel would secure the engine rooms.
Primus reached down and pulled of his crash webbing. His entire section, which included the Command Squad, followed suite. Primus pulled out his Chainsword and muttered a Prayer of Protection to the God-Emperor. The Thunderhawk slammed into the deck of the hanger and the landing ramp dropped to the ground with a deafening bang. The Praetorians spread out into the dark, poorly lit hanger, each one covering his field of fire with honed practice.
"Clear!" Veteran Sergeant Theron yelled.
"Scouts!" Primus shouted, turning to the small band of scouts that where accompanying his section, "Hold this position."
"Aye Captain," one of the scouts said.
The rest of his section moved forward. The hanger was massive, along with the entire ship. From the Fist of Retribution, the Pride seemed small, but as they approached in the Thunderhawk, they realized that it was truly a massive ship. Primus guessed that it was at least six miles long.
"Emperor's Blood," Luthor Hoth muttered, "Does this hanger even have a ceiling?"
"Stay focused, Champion," Theron said he paused for a moment before pointing ahead of them, "Door ahead. Finally."
The approached the door and opened it, Primus and Hoth going through first, since they were both armed with Chainswords. The door lead into a long hallway, dark hallway; the glow globes on the ceiling flickering constantly, no one however noticed the lack of lighting or the flickering glow globes. They were all focused on the massive pool of blood in the middle of the hallway.
"Throne of Terra," Brother Kantor, the Company Standard Bearer, muttered, "What happened here?"
"I don't know. I have a bad feeling about this," Theron said softly.
"Theron," Primus said quickly, "Didn't I already have to talk to you about this? No mention of you and your feelings."
"Sorry, Captain. I won't try to mention them again."
"Now come, let's move on. Maybe we can find someone who's still breathing at the bridge."
"You said they wouldn't find us," the massive form said, closing his grip on the small women's neck and lifting her into the air.
The women laughed at the huge form of the Astartes, even though he could snap her neck with ease, "I promised you nothing, Varl. Now, release me and let me get back to my job," she said, laughing and choking at the same time.
Lord Varl recoiled slightly and dropped the women, who immediately shot back up and straightened out her clothes. She was of average height and most considered her to be incredibly beautiful, her hair was a pitch black raven color and her arms were covered with various tattoos.
"Now, Lord Varl..." She said with a malicious grin.
Varl felt his blood go cold. He wanted to pull out his Power Sword and hack the human bitch to pieces, but he couldn't. His arms were literally frozen.
"If you ever try and do something like that again, why I'm sure what'll I do to you." she stood on her tip toes and touched his left cheek. The pain was excruciating, it took all of Varl's willpower to stop himself from screaming in agony. She let go of her hand, turned and walked towards the massive gateway into the inner sanctums. Before she walked out of Varl's sight, she stopped and blew him a kiss, sending a cold chill down Varl's back.
|Sep 19 2011 Anchor|
it is good, compeltely honest. One of the best little bits I've read in a while
|Sep 27 2011 Anchor|
getting good bro, keep it up!
|Oct 3 2011 Anchor|
The woman continued down the large hallway, veering off down into a smaller corridor that lead to a small engineering area. The change in scenery was dramatic, going from a massive ostentatious hallway, into a cramped, dark, wet corridor. It soon led into a slightly larger room, although it seemed smaller with the twp massive forms of the Astartes who were sitting in a small circle, cleaning their weapons. The two of them looked up at her simultaneously and all nodded towards her, she pulled up a small bucket and wedged herself into the circle.
"So, what'd Varl want?" Cain, the largest of them, asked.
Jacqueline shrugged, "He wanted to discuss what he's been thinking about since we got here."
"Ah. The ritual?"
Jacqueline nodded, "In addition to the fact that there are now even more Astartes on board. Praetorians, second company."
"Just like you foretold," the Chaos Marine sitting across from her, Skâr, noted.
Jacqueline nodded and turned to Cain, "Has Varl's rabble managed to get rid of our little problem in the Chapel?"
Cain shakes his head, frowning, "No. The incompetence of the Black Legion makes shows itself yet again."
Skâr chuckles, "Well, not all of us can be Iron Warriors."
Jacqueline smirks mischievously, "It's good that you two are with me. I need both of you to perform a task, a dangerous one. It'll help us with these new Praetorians."
"What do you need us to do?" Cain asked.
"It's simple really. All I need you to do is deliver a gift to their ship, the Fist of Retribution..."
Katya, Sister-Superior of The Order of Our Martyred Lady, cried out as a Chainaxe nearly took her head off. She managed to duck and roll clear of the massive Chaos Marine and fire off a couple of point blank shots from her Bolter into his midsection. It roared in anger, crimson blood pouring out from multiple wounds and staining its obsidian colored armor. But it didn't stop the hulking figure; instead it roared in anger and struck down at her again with his Chainaxe. Katya didn't have to time move out of the way; she instead raised her Bolter up and used it to stop the axe. Her Bolter roared as the Chainaxe hit it; the force of the blow was incredible, knocking her to the ground. She realized that she was beaten and didn't bother to try and fight the Chaos Marine, instead she began to pray allowed, asking the Emperor for his protection.
The Chaos laughed a deep guttural laugh, "Your pathetic Emperor can't protect you here."
But he can and did. Out of nowhere, another Astartes tackled the Chaos Marine. His ornate armor was a deep, rich black with gilded silver, covered in purity seals. The two huge forms grabbled on the ground, exchanging punches and kicks that would kill any mortal man. The Chaos Marine fought like a Daemon, but it was clear who was going to win. The other Astartes wasn't injured, was much faster and stronger than his fallen kin and incredibly skilled. The Chaos threw a punch towards the Loyalist's unprotected head, but the Loyalist managed to dodge and catch the arm, twisting it back and breaking it with a sickening crack.
The Chaos Marine roared in anger and defiance as the Loyalist forced him into a headlock, "The Emperor protects all, Traitor," the Loyalist shouted as he snapped the Chaos Marine's neck.
The entire fight lasted less than four seconds, Katya barely managed to keep up with the superhuman speed of the Astartes. The Loyalist marine walked towards Katya, and she managed to see the face of her savior. It was the face of a veteran of hundreds of years of armed combat, the entire left side of his face was covered in ornate silver Bionics. A strange, flowing script was written on the Bionics in gold. The Loyalist Marine extended an arm and helped Katya up.
"My thanks," she breathed as she looked upon the Astartes. She was an Adeptus Sororitas and had seen many Astartes in her day, but none quite like this.
"Do not worry about it, Sister," the Loyalist said, his voice deep, "I merely server the Emperor and seek to protect his servants. Before you ask, I am Leonatos Tarkus, Sergeant of the Second Praetorian Honor Guard. I'm the reason these damned Chaos Forces are here."
Katya took a step back from Tarkus, an eyebrow raised, suddenly suspicious of the warrior.
"Do not worry," he began, "I can't explain now, you'll have to trust me. Those Chaos dogs'll attack again soon, in greater numbers. Battle-Brothers from my Honor Guard and some of your sisters are not far from here, held up in an Engineering deck below the Bridge."
Katya nodded her head, "Alright. I trust you; you did save my life after all."
She took a moment to look around the massive Chapel dedicated to the Machine God. The floor was soaked with blood; dozens of her Sisters were dead, with only a handful of dead Traitor Marines. The Chaos attack caught them unaware, while they were praying to the Emperor. They held off multiple attacks from the Chaos forces over the past, what she could guess since there was no way to tell time, couple days.
She looked up, and with sadness in her heart, said: "Yes. Let us leave this place."
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