# Nowhere to Hide



## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Well, here it is. My first go at writing a book, and also my first go at writing a WH40K book. Hope You like it.

Warhammer 40,000 - Nowhere To Hide
Chapter 1 - Odd Allies –
Thought for the day: A good soldier feels nothing but hate

259.M42
Segmentum Obscurus
Malbredan Sector
Malbredan Sub-sector
Malbrede V

Guardsman Ventory felt shivers run down his spine. The Chaos marine was only a couple of feet away, but he hadn’t noticed him yet. The traitor walked past. He relaxed, and spotted a shotgun lodged between two duracrete pieces. If he could get it, he might just be safer. Crawling silently across rubble, he picked it up. But it was empty.
_ “Oh, damn”, he thought._ 
There had to be some shells around. There were some around a dead guardsman’s belt. He slowly slid them in the receiver of the shotgun, and stuffed the rest in his pockets. After cocking it as quietly as possible, he stood up. The Chaos marine was inspecting a room. Ventory seized his chance. He stealthily crawled across the hallway and stood up just behind the marine. The putrid smell of rotten flesh struck him. He almost passed out. 
_“Must be one of those Death Guard marines”, he thought._ 
“Hey, stinker!” 
The traitor spun round, only to see two barrels staring at him.
“Tough luck, bastard” Ventory said and pressed the trigger. 
The heavy buckshot tore the marine’s head apart and threw the headless corpse to ground. Ventory wiped the tiny bits of metal and rotting meat from his face and heaved. 
“Had to get a full face helmet”, he groaned miserably and shuddered. 
It’d take months before the smell would go away. Now he would be fly bait. But that had to wait. He needed to link up with the rest of his platoon. If he could just get his bearings, it would be a lot easier to navigate this barren wasteland.


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

This had been a fine Imperial city, but ravaged after years of bitter fighting. But, now he had to find the HQ. He rummaged through his memory. Their HQ had been situated in a big crater, which concealed it from scouts.
“Like that’s going to help me now” he muttered. 
Then his thoughts were interrupted by a distant booming. He saw several black spots against the evening sky. His heart jumped with joy. It was the Astartes! The battle would be a lot easier now. The drop pods were altering their course and Ventory could clearly see that they were closing in on his position. His heart sank. If he remained where he was, he’d be turned into a pâté. Strapping the shotgun to his back, he made a break for it. Down the alleyway, past a burning Chimera APC, several dead Guardsmen… But it was too late. The drop pods smashed in the nearby houses, smashing them apart. He was running, avoiding pieces of buildings that were flying around. He could just see the end of houses. Suddenly, a chunk of duracrete knocked him to ground, breaking his leg. 
“Ooow, damn!” Ventory shouted in pain. 
Straining to get the duracrete piece off his leg, he grabbed the shotgun and used it to free himself. Then, crawling slowly, he sat down a bit further and waited for somebody to come.
Sergeant Darius first noticed the running figure. It looked human, but you could never be sure, especially when a Necron Flayed One had hid itself in a dead body and almost managed to kill an Imperial fireteam. After informing other marines, the drop pods were shifting, and homing in on the figure’s position. The landing shook the drop pod violently and a second later the hatch fell off. Darius jumped out and took


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

cover behind the hatch. After inspecting his surroundings, he noticed a trail of blood. It seemed fresh. Also, there was a faint smell of rotten flesh. He suddenly tensed. 
“Brother Marcius and Brother Vearn, follow me. I think we have some Death Guards on us.” 
“Acknowledged.” The trio walked off to the blood trail. 
Suddenly, Darius heard irregular breathing. It didn’t sound like a Death Guard marine, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He jumped out and aimed his boltgun at the noise.
“NO!” somebody shouted. A hail of small projectiles hit his armour, not doing any harm. 
“What the…?” the same voice said. 
Darius squinted and saw a pale-faced guardsman sitting in shadow of a duracrete chunk, the blood trail leading to him. He was holding a shotgun, his leg twisted at an awkward angle. 
“Thank the Emperor; I was thinking it was more traitor marines! I am Guardsman Ventory of the 9th company of 712th Malbrede Regiment. Who are you?” 
Darius stepped forward “I am Sergeant Darius of 3rd squad of 4th company of Templars of Steel chapter. Come. You are injured. Our apothecary will take care of you. Just before we go, can I ask why do you smell like a Death Guard?” 
“Well, I was standing right behind one of them when I shot him. I shouted at him. He turned round, and BOOM! I shot him. Sprayed me completely with his head, though. After then, I tried to find a way out, but you came down and I got my leg broken by a duracrete piece.” 
Suddenly, a distant howl echoed through the ruins. Ventory felt terrible fear numb him. What in the Emperor’s name could make such blood-chilling noises? Darius bent down and picked him up. 
“We cannot delay. We must go.”
“But where? I don’t think that you have a base here, do you?” Ventory said, puzzled 
“I mean, you


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

dropped down only more or less half an hour ago.” 
“Yes, but the rest of the company is already on ground. We were to do a recon patrol.” Darius answered. 
“Then why are you taking me to your base?” 
“We have our reasons.” 
“Not sure I like the sound of that, but let’s go anyway.”
Apothecary Kerlan felt quite satisfied with himself. The bone had accepted the prosthetic repairer without problems, now his patient would be able to walk freely in a couple of days, or less with a bit of luck.
“How is it feeling?” he asked. 
“Pretty good, thank you.” Ventory answered. 
“Well, have a go at walking.” Ventory stood up from the table and touched floor gingerly. 
Then, feeling more reassured, he stood up completely. He winced slightly, but the pain was bearable. He did a step. Then another one. “Feels great! Thanks, apothecary!” 
“Go then. Our captain is waiting for you.” 
Ventory swallowed uneasily. He never liked the idea of going the Marines’ base, but, with that terrible screaming, he could either wait and see the damned thing for himself and probably get killed, or take a hike to their base. Not that he really had a choice. Those marines had picked him up and strolled off. And now, he was standing in front of the doors that led inside. His heart was pounding and it felt like it was trying to jump out of his mouth. He raised his hand to knock, but the door slid apart with a hiss. He saw a figure approaching. It was a servitor. The worker drone stopped in his front. 
“The captain is waiting. Follow, most beneficent one.” It turned round and wheeled off. Ventory followed, feeling quite unnerved by now. 
The interior of marines’ chapel-barracks was full of sparring combatants, practising with their swords and bolters.


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Several scouts noticed him and followed him with their eyes. They came to another door. The servitor stopped at spoke in the voxcoder “I have brought the guardsman that 3rd squad found, most venerated captain.” 
The door slid open. Ventory stepped in and the door closed. Several meters further, the captain of the company was standing at a table, discussing with several other marines. There were several Terminator marines standing in the corners, looking at Ventory suspiciously. 
The captain was clad in ornate power armour, but dented and dulled by years of constant fighting. His face was deeply scarred, and his right eye had been replaced with a bionic one. He noticed Ventory and strode towards him. Deep booms resounded within the great hall. Ventory felt himself becoming more and more tinier and insignificant with every step the hulking marine took towards him. He felt his knees wobble, but steadied himself. The captain towered above him, not saying anything, and then bent down on his knee. 
Then he spoke “Finally I meet you. It has taken me a long time to track you down.” His voice was thick with emotion. 
“W-what?” Ventory asked, dumbstruck “I am here to be interrogated, right?” 
The captain raised his head and looked in his eyes, locking him with his steely, dark gaze. 
“Do you know not of your father? He was the one who sacrificed himself and that way he saved our gene-seed, and our chapter. If a chapter’s gene-seed is lost, stolen or mutated, they are doomed. We are forever indebted to all of his family.” 
“Then how come I never heard of it?” 
“Would you have believed it? Officially, your father would have been listed as KIA. Departmento


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Munitorum never could actually calculate how much soldiers have died and how much have been enlisted each day. But in reality, he saved all of the Templars. Now then, what can the Warhawks do for you?” 
“I know this will sound crazy, but I’d like to have some time off. In the last few months, I’ve seen hundreds die.” 
Ventory sighed “Our regiment took heavy losses at the defence of the capital’s fortifications.” 
“It will be done, friend. There’s an Inquisitor that’s a good friend of mine. Perhaps you’ve heard of her? Amberley Vail. She also holds the memoirs of Ciaphas Cain.” 
“Where will I be going?” 
“Vail will inform you when you meet her. If you want to know more about your father, feel free to visit our librarian. He holds all the information we have collected.” 
Ventory was feeling quite tired, but didn’t let it show. 
“I know you’re exhausted. You can take my personal quarters and…” 
“I thank you for that, but I should see the apothecary. He hasn’t quite finished with my leg. Besides, I’ll be just fine sleeping outside.” 
“As you wish.” 
“Well, see you tomorrow then. Goodbye.” 
He turned round and went through the door. He noticed that all the marines in the training hall were watching him. Not a single blade clashed. No-one even moved, just stared at him. It was already unnerving to be looked at by a single marine, but this could make anyone a paranoid. Walking as fast as he could, he crossed the hall and got out in the field. 
There he fell on his knees and breathed in deeply “Stay calm, now, just stay calm” he whispered to himself. 
He felt a hand on his shoulder and damn near made a mess of his pants. It was Kerlan. 
“Follow me, I have something for you.” 
“What is it?” 
“I’ve got some implants for you. If I implant them into


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

you, they’ll make you tougher, and your chances of survival will be greater. It won’t make you a Space Marine, though, but you will be much tougher than Cadian Kasrkin, I swear.” 
Ventory thought about this. It was tempting, yes, so he agreed. And, as he lay on the surgery table, he felt the sedative starting to work. Fighting the drowsiness, he heard Kerlan, but he didn’t understand what he said. Then everything went black.

That's all for now, guys.


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## Commissar Ploss (Feb 29, 2008)

thread moved to Original Works

CP


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

k thx. didn't really know where to put this thing


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Here's chapter 2, hope you like it.

M259.M42
Gravalax

- Chapter 2 – New Acquaintances -
Thought for the day: Life is Emperor’s currency, use it wisely

Inquisitor Amberley Vail was sitting in her chair, trying to create some sort of order on her desk. When she returned, all the file cabinets almost had collapsed on top of her when she had closed the door. Now they were lying on the ground, their contents spilled on the ground. In a sudden burst of anger, she shouted
“RAKEL! GET HERE NOW!”
No answer, just some rodents scurrying away. She shouted again, her anger growing 
“RAKEL!!!”
Still no answer. Then, she heard a beeping.
“Finally!” she sighed.
Hopefully, it was Rakel, having finally heard her. But the voxcoder was nowhere to be seen. Frustrated, she started digging through her files and documents, desperately trying to find the damned device. 
“Where is it?”
Then she saw it. It lay buried beneath a file cabinet, almost crushed flat. She pulled the cabinets upright, and picked the voxcoder up.
“Now, then, WHERE have you been off slacking to?! Who’s this? Oh, captain Lazarius? That? Oh, never mind. Just having some trouble with my servant. Anyway, why are you contacting me? W-What do you mean, ‘more adventures’ for me? Who is it? Ventory? You’ve got to be joking! The son of the man who saved the Templars of Steel? How can you be so sure? You checked his DNA? Well, the genes can’t lie, I guess. How long is it going to be before he’s here? Whaaaat!” Vail was fuming now, almost crunching the voxcoder 
“And you’re telling this to me only now? But I still have to…” 
The voxcoder suddenly cut off. She stared at it in disbelief. She could have sworn that right before Lazarius terminated the connection, he was laughing. A space marine, laughing! The much-abused device slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor, as she started to stuff all the files in the cabinets with redoubled fury. If her guest would see her office in this condition, she would never forgive herself. Suddenly, she froze. She was hearing someone walking upwards the stairs. She saw the door open and a confused looking man standing there.
_ “It’s now or never!”_ she thought and tossed those papers away and strode forwards the man.
“Inquisitor Amberley Vail, great to meet you” Ventory bowed. 
Vail returned the honour. “So you are the son of the Templars' saviour?” 
“Yeah.” Ventory answered, unflinching.
“Tell me, how much do you know about your father?” 
“Not much. All I know is that he joined the Guard and got killed, but after the talk with Templars’ librarian, I discovered a lot of things. The Departmento Munitorum would have never thought that my father would have been inserted in a Dreadnought if he survived. Was quite a shock for me, too.”
“Lazarius mentioned that you want some time off. I will arrange for you a travel to the Wermaol Secundus. It’s a peaceful planet, far from any conflicts. But, before we do that, we should have a talk.”
They talked for five hours, and Vail was feeling quite unnerved. The young guardsman did have quite a story to tell. The bloody defence of Malbrede’s capital, the desperate holdout at the space port, and the seemingly endless traitor and demon hordes, all howling for human blood. They made the Chaos horde pay with blood for every step they managed to gain, but the battle was one-sided even before it started. If the Guardsmen managed to kill a heretic or a demon, it seemed that a dozen more were swarming in his place. The situation seemed bleak, but then dozens of Templars’ drop pods came down and deployed several tactical squads and Dreadnoughts. The Templars of Steel were working with other Imperial forces more often than any other chapter and were frowned upon by that, but the regiment’s general seized his chance and sent all of the Imperial forces on offensive. They caught their enemies off guard, because they hadn’t expected someone so weak to assault them. As the Dreadnought Amael Arceus tore their Chaos lord in two, demons disappeared shrieking back into warp, traitors retreated. Retreat turned into rout, rout turned into a bloodbath. But it had been a costly victory; more than two thirds of the regiment were annihilated, and many of them had turned to The Ruinous Powers and were executed by commissars. Nobody did even notice that they have left a man behind, the man who was now sitting and talking to her. 
“Now I do understand why you ask for a vacation. I think that so would I, had I been in such slaughter.”
“So, when do I depart?” 
“Tomorrow, at 1600 local time. Dismissed.” she said dryly but then Vail broke her rigid posture and smiled at him warmly.
“You know, I was angry when Lazarius contacted me. But maybe this will take me somewhere; maybe a new adventure will be for the better. Who knows what’ll happen.”


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

But, at the same time on Wermaol, Necrons were emerging from their underground tombs, ready to harvest the planet clean of life, again. The Flayed Ones were digging themselves out, scarabs and tomb spyders were clearing out tomb entrances. Hundreds of Necrons were marching towards surface, awaiting a command from their lord. He was a veteran of many millennia of harvest, and once again, he had a target. 
The nearby Imperial outpost Delta-428, were receiving their monthly supplies when their radar system detected something unusual. Whatever those things were, they were devoid of life, just a strange energy emanating from them. The claxons started to blare, rousing everyone from sleep, lascannons, heavy bolter emplacements and heavy flamer turrets were being powered up, troopers gathered on the walls to report to their COs. Chimeras, Sentinels and other vehicles were being fuelled up and filled with munitions. Their Kasrkin and Ogryn Auxilia were getting their equipment ready. 
The commissar who was in charge of the outpost, smiled. There were no signs of slackness as his troops lined up, in a perfect row, their lasguns in their hands. “Attention!” he shouted. A thousand faces were looking at him. 
“As you all know, an unknown enemy approaches! It won’t be long before they are here! And, before you die, make sure you give ‘em hell before you do! TO STATIONS, MEN!”
A thousand-voiced cheer went up as everyone scrambled and took their positions along the walls.
Guardsman Green was feeling quite unnerved. Although they all knew that they were about to be attacked, there were no signs of any hostiles approaching. He whispered to his long-time companion Mikhaels “Do you have any idea what’s coming?” 
“Not a clue, buddy.” She whispered back.
“Me too. Almost as worse as being back in the Last Chancers.”
A distant groan echoed throughout the plateau, almost making him jump. 
“What was THAT?” Green gasped. He was seeing a faint, green glow slowly approaching their positions. As it approached, he could hear a slow, metallic grinding. He shifted in unease.
The commissar yelled. “OPEN FIRE!!! I want a desolate wasteland that I can name after myself! OPEN FIRE!!!” 
Green flicked the switch to automatic fire and held the trigger. Alongside the wall, he saw other troopers do the same. Red beams lashed out in the dark, the whine of the lasguns drowned out by the relentless din of bolter turrets, lascannons and flamer turrets that laid waste to anything that was worth blasting. A movement caught Mikhael’s eye and she started shooting at it. It also caught the attention of a nearby bolter turret, and miniature rockets turned whatever it was into slag. Suddenly she saw a red flash. Her lasgun’s power cell was empty. Alongside the wall, she saw that the same thing happened to others.
“What are you waiting for? Reload!” 
The commissar shouted. Pulling the empty cell out, she slammed a fresh one in place and she heard the gun hum with renewed intensity.
“WAIT! Don’t shoot yet! Let’s bring the sky crashing down on them, shall we, men? So they know what the Imperial Guard is made of!!!” 
A roaring laughter echoed throughout the outpost. The Basilisk self-propelled artillery had the longest range, and there was no point in running when you heard their shells howling in the air. And fortunately, they had four batteries stationed ten kilometres away. If they could just get a com-link with them, they’d have nothing to worry about.
“What are you talking about? We don’t see a damn thing from here!” artillery officer Razlin shouted in anger. He was just about to go to sleep, but a deranged Commissar had connected him and was shouting something about ‘a lifeless army.’ 
“USE THE SATELITE IMAGERY, YOU USELESS IDIOT!!! WE’RE BEING TORN APART!!!”
Sighing, Razlin opened a link to one of the satellites orbiting the planet, zoomed in on the Delta-428, and his blood froze in his veins.
“W-What? Necrons? Here? You got your barrage, sir! We’ll pound the area around the outpost, so sit tight and don’t go anywhere!” 
“Be quick about it! They’re trying to break through!”
Putting the vox down, Razlin shouted “Start up the Basilisks! We have a target!”
Green was low on ammo. If the artillery didn’t start firing soon, he’d have to resort throwing rocks. “Aah, I need these things recharged!” Mikhaels threw him a couple of power cells.
“Here, take these! Some poor bastards got de-atomized.”
“Oh, that’s bad. What are those things anyway?”
“Necrons, I think.” 
Green shot her a blank look “What?” 
“Never mind. Just switch to semi-automatic fire and look first, then shoot. Save some ammo, ‘cause I ain’t gonna crap ‘em cells out of nowhere. If only I had my rocket launcher…” 
Slamming the fresh power cell in place, he flicked the switch and took his aim, when it started. He heard a terrifying whistling in the air and his heart jumped in joy. The barrage had started! Powerful explosions shook the ground as their lifeless adversaries were blown to smithereens. Cheers went up as the artillery pounded the no-man’s land. 
“Whoo-yeah, that showed ‘em!” Mikhaels shouted. Green squinted, but couldn’t see anything. But then again, he didn’t see a single Necron; he just fired where others did. 
The commissar picked his voxcaster up. “Report casualties!” he called out.
“35 fireteams have taken casualties, in total, 92 dead, but no injuries.”
“Ok, we now must be ready for another battle, because I have a feeling that those things will be back. Charge up every empty power cell, mend any broken equipment, and repair any damages done to our battlements!” He suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning round, he saw one of their Ogryn standing, with a torn metallic torso over his shoulder. 
“’Ere sir, we’z found dis outside. But be careful, it’z not kind enough to die. We’z had been killin’ it over and over again.” The commissar mused at this, but then the supposedly dead Necron suddenly reached out and tried to claw at his face. Screaming, he jolted backwards and was hiding in his bunker before anyone could say anything. All who saw it started to guffaw uncontrollably, but the Ogryn however, snatched it from his shoulder and casually slammed it against the floor. One, two, three, four, five times until it wasn’t moving. “It’s good an’ done, sir. It’z dead again!” The shaking officer slowly came out of his bunker, his face blushing red with shame. He had hid in front of his subordinates. It would be a shame that would haunt him for many years.


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Warp travel. It always was uncomfortable, but it was almost unbearable this time. When he was sleeping, he’d see all kinds of gibbering things trying to kill him. Then he’d wake up; fall asleep again, and so on, repeating ad infinitum.
He hardly could stay awake now, but they were soon exiting warp. The shuttle was oddly silent; other passengers were sleeping: or at least, were trying to. They too, were being harassed by the warp sickness. He felt the shuttle lurch slightly and saw through the viewport that they had arrived. He could see three of the seven planets in the system, several Navy ships and hundreds of cargo shuttles moving throughout the system.
He saw one of the planets was an agri world, its continents covered in vast fields of all manners of food. 
The next one was a hive world, vast cities stretching several kilometres high and covering entire continents. 
The last one he saw was a forge world, massive factories the size of hive cities dotting the whole surface of the planet. 
He now saw the fourth planet in the system, the one they were approaching. It had to be a civilised world, for he saw there were food fields, cities, Manufactorums, and residences. 
He heard the voxcaster beep “Attention, passengers we are on our approach to Wermaol Secundus, we’ll be making planetfall in five minutes. So strap in your seats and make sure that you and your valuables are secure.”
All the sleepers were roused out of their dreams and frantically dressed themselves and secured their belongings and themselves, lest something would come undone. Ventory grabbed his hellgun and the container of his carapace armour and put it in. As he closed the lid, he noticed that he had almost forgotten to turn off the power plant that was connected with his gun. Flicking the switch, he picked it up and placed it carefully besides the hellgun. Having finished securing the bolts on the box, he strapped himself in the seat.
It was interesting, he mused. He could have never gotten his hands on a Kasrkin armour and weaponry himself, but Vail managed to make it happen in a matter of hours. And she got gave it to him in the colours of 712th, complete with the winged star that served as their logo. But then again, Inquisitors had great power.
His thoughts were interrupted by a rumbling.

They had hit the atmosphere.


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Chapter 3 here, not finished yet though.

- Chapter 3 – On the usefulness of chainswords - 
Thought for the day: Ruthlessness is the kindness of the wise 

30 KM above Malbrede V

The pilots in the cockpit were having a hard time as they tried to retain control over the shuttle, as turbulent winds were throwing them from side to side.
“Shield readings normal, engines are operating within usual parameters. How long ‘till we are in, Seyan?”
“ETA twenty minutes to Old Gates spaceport.”
“Hey what’s that? Are those friendly?”
The radar started beeping. 
“Two unidentified fliers approaching, bearing three-two-seven!”
The voxcaster crackled to life, and both pilots listened intently. “This is Skyshark Alpha Zero-One, identify yourself!” 
Seyan grabbed the microphone “This is an Imperial shuttle, designation B4D96S. What’s happening?”
“There have been reports of planetside fighting; all incoming and outgoing transports are now required to be escorted.” 
“Roger that. Over and out.” 
“Hmm, what do you think’s happening?”
“An Ork Waaagh? Dark Eldar raid? Chaos incursion?”
“Maybe. But let’s put that aside, okay? We both got a shuttle to land.”
With a pair of Thunderbolt fighters besides them, they could see the spaceport through the clouds. It was more magnificent than they could have imagined. They saw countless vessels zooming between different parts of it, the vast servicing bays, and hundreds of Lightning and Thunderbolt fighters patrolling and practicing in dogfighting. They could also see hundreds of docking bays, most of them never at peace.
“Some sight, isn’t it?” 
“Yeah.”
The vox crackled again “Shuttle B4D96S, follow the radar beacon, it will guide you to your docking bay. Over.”
“Roger, Old Gates.” 
“This is Skyshark Alpha Zero-One; we must return to our patrol duties, have a nice day. Over.”
“Roger, Skyshark, thanks for the escort. Over.” The Thunderbolt duo peeled away and accelerated upwards. The shuttle made its way to its designated bay, slowly slid into the docking braces, and as they locked the transport firmly in place, Ventory became aware that he was clutching the armrests of his seat. Sighing, he stood up, got hold of his container, and joining the other passengers, went on to the doors. He heard a hiss and felt the air stir.
The shuttle door slid aside, giving way to a plasteel walkway that connected to the shuttle with a clang. The excited passengers were murmuring at the sight of the spaceport’s immense size. Their shuttle was only one amidst hundreds; all manners of noises could be heard, from conversations to the banging and roaring of tools. Pulling the container with renewed vigour, he realized that he will not be thrown into any more meat grinders, that he will have a long vacation, get his mind clear, and only then he will go back to the frontline. 
He heard a shout. It sounded faint and breathless, even with the enhancements the Warhawks’ apothecary had gifted him with; it was difficult to hear in this place. Squinting, he saw a man running towards him. He was wearing a blood red robe, trimmed with golden colour.
On his chest was a cross that reminded of the Black Templar’s chapter symbol, but in the centre of it an image of heart was displayed. He saw the man wave and shout again, but to no avail. The shuttle dock was simply too loud. As the rest of passengers walked away, Ventory stood and waited for the old man to reach him. As he approached, he became aware that the old man had a big staff with a heavy-looking Ecclesiarchy symbol on top of it. He stopped in front of Ventory, bent over and breathless. 
After a minute, he stood up. “Ah, Ventory, is it not? Inquisitor Vail told us that you were coming. Follow, I will take you to our convent.” 
“Our? What do you mean?” 
“Oh, there’s dozens of Sororitas’ convents on this planet, and I’m taking you to the one I belong in; The Saviours. Have you heard of us? No? Then let me tell a bit about our order. We are both a Hospitallers and Militants order, and we are renowned for many successful surgeries. We do not relent until we have healed a soldier, be he one of the Astartes, Sororitas, or even an ordinary Guardsman. We have earned the gratitude of many soldiers and warriors throughout the Imperium. But if their injuries are beyond our abilities, we always give them proper burial.”
"How many are there in your order?" 
"Ooh, about ten thousand. We have convents throughout all of the Imperium." As they were talking, they reached another transport. "This shuttle will take us to the convent. Shall we?" 
"By all means, yes." They climbed inside and Ventory was dumbstruck. Despite the shuttle’s exterior looks, the interior of it was breathtaking. Murals depicting Emperor, prayers inscribed on slips of parchment, burning censers, and also, a pair of hefty flamers strapped to the rear bulkhead.
“Like it? This transport is the one our Canoness uses. She specially requisitioned for this occasion. I heard she is looking forward to meet you.” “So, when are we going?” 
“Ohh, not just yet. I heard that one of our servitors had done something terribly amiss. I saw our Techpriest earlier. He went into hysterical fits when he found out that the servitors had been swapping exhaust pieces. I think that he’s praying to the Machine God for mercy now.” 
And, as he uttered the last words, a hatch opened in the floor, letting a greasy Enginseer out, his mechadendrite clinging to the hatch. 
“Ah, Amnito, how are you? Have you solved the problem?” The man before them bristled somewhat, but spoke politely.
“It is repaired, and should fly now, if Omnissiah wills so.” 
Without a further word, he went to the cockpit, muttering darkly something about ‘the brainless fools’. Minutes later, they felt the shuttle tilt slightly, as they sped towards the Sororitas’ convent.
She was running. The pursuing Arbites did not stop. And all this because of a bottle of amasec she’d snatched. “STOP!!!” she heard a maniacal shout. “Not likely!” Mikhaels answered. Running with renewed vigour, she failed to notice a rock on the road. She felt the jolt as she tripped. It was like everything had slowed down. She crashed heavily on her shoulder, rolled over twice and came to a stop when she smashed into a wall of a house. 
“OOF! Ow, now that’s going to leave a mark…” She groaned. Then, dazed but unharmed, she tried to get up, only to be grabbed by her neck by one of the Arbites.
“You have just earned yourself a one-way ride to a penal world.” He growled. 
She spat back at him “Like it’s anything new to me. I don’t care, send me to anywhere…” her voice trailed off, as she stared past the Arbitrators’ shoulder, her face ashen with terror and shock. 
“What?” The Arbitrator made an unforgivable mistake, releasing his grip on Mikhaels when he turned his head to see behind him. Quick as a lightning, she dropped the charade and grabbed his chainsword from its holster. Revving it, she swung it around her to gain momentum. The power armour of the Arbites is able to take much abuse and still hold together. But nothing could have prepared this unlucky man, as the teeth of his own chainsword ground in his greaves, sending sparks, sinew and blood flying everywhere.
It cut through the leg as a hot knife through butter would. Then it met the other leg, which provided no resistance as she sliced it off too. The massive brute of a man roared and howled in pain as he lay on his back, blood flowing from stumps where he recently had legs. The other Arbitrator had drawn his bolt pistol and was busy aiming it at her, when his head swelled and became bright red and exploded, showering everything nearby in gore. She looked around, confused. The headless corpse was already collapsing to ground. Behind it, a few meters away, was Green, his lasgun's barrel smoking.
“I heard a bit of commotion here.” he spoke with a smile. 
“Just the perfect time for you to show up. I couldn’t have timed it better myself."
She looked down on the other, legless adversary. He was twitching, the blood loss and shock slowly killing him.
"Want to do the honours, Mikhaels?" 
"Love to!" She hefted the chainsword, held the throttle and drove it deep in the chest of the Arbitrator. He let out a gurgling scream as the massive weapon embedded itself in his body. He tried to grab her with his gauntleted hand, but she was out of reach. Then his hand fell limp. He was dead. Mikhaels was breathing heavily, the heavy chainsword having taken its toll on her. 
“You know what, Green? I think I like this. It feels good.” She looked up, her face covered in blood of the Arbitrator.
“I think I’m going to keep this. A nice chainsword.” She took the holster off its former owner and tied it around her waist. 
“Doing a Yarrick, are we?” she heard a voice from an alley. She swung round, the chainsword at ready. 
“Oooooh, how brave.” the voice was still toying with her.
Screaming, she charged down the alley. Putting all her strength in it, she swung an uppercut at the shadows. The chainsword’s engine growled like a pack of Fenrisian wolves. But after a couple of minutes, she could not keep it up. Her invisible adversary mocked her at every swing of the chainsword. Now she was on her knees, exhaustion forbidding her to get up.
“You know, if we are going to have a talk, you REALLY have to stop that.” The voice still continued talking. Mikhaels desperately wanted to change that, but she couldn’t still locate the source. 
“You know that if I find you, I’ll fuck you up REAL BAD!” The voice was chuckling. Mikhaels stood up, anger filling her. As she started the chainsword again, she felt a blade press against her neck.
“Drop it.” It was that voice again. She noted it sounded like two people talking at once. It also sounded synthetic, like her adversary was wearing a helmet. Nevertheless, she let the chainsword out her hand. 
“Good. Now we can act in a civilised way, right?” Mikhaels felt the blade drawn away from her neck. She noticed something was wrong. She had failed to notice in her killing frenzy that Green had vanished.
"Where's..."
"The other mon-keigh? Oh, he's safe. You just be nice and you'll see him again. So, we have a deal?"
Mikhaels retorted "First, show yourself. Only then we have a deal." 
"Sounds fair. So be it." With a shimmer, she saw a figure appear in front of her. It had a conical helmet, its exquisite armour was mixture of pale blue, dark blue and yellow. The being before her reached for the locks on the neck, fiddled with the clasps and pulled its helmet off. A curtain of red hair fell down, two emerald green eyes looking at her.
“Eldar? I’m not really surprised to see you here. If your kind is here, then trouble’s about, am I right?”
“Indeed. I am Farseer Dar'Hael of Venarel Exodite world. I have foreseen that Necrons will reawaken on this world. But this is nor the time or the place to talk. Come.” 
“So, where we goin’?”
“We’ve set up a camp nearby. Our Rangers have transported that friend of yours to there along the other captives.”
“What makes YOU think that I’m a captive?” Mikhaels lunged at the Eldar, chainsword flying through air. The Eldar sidestepped the lunge, almost lazily, and swung her Singing Spear at Mikhaels’ legs, knocking her flat on the back. The Eldar was on her in a flash, the heavy blade at her throat.
“Well, I have a good reason. Listen, we do not mean any harm to your Imperium. We want peace. Well, at least our world wants. We are a dwindling race. We cannot endure any more wars. So stop this nonsense or experience severe pain and blood loss.” The blade at her neck served to merely reinforce the Eldar’s point. 
Mikhaels threw her arms up as a sign of defeat “Fine, I’ll go. But don’t try any of your mind tricks on me.” The smile on the Eldar’s face was barely noticeable, but she noticed it anyway, as she grasped the outstretched hand.


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

An update on chapter 3, but it's due to be finished soon.

On their trek to the camp, they didn’t meet anyone, save for the odd rodent that ran across their path. After an uneventful hour, the Eldar stopped suddenly.
“What is it? Is anything wrong?” she heard Mikhaels whisper. She did not answer.
“Hey! I asked you something!” she whispered again, angry that she was ignoring her. But then she noticed that she was scanning the area, as if looking for a barrier of sorts. Then she heard a stream of words issue from the Eldar.
“Arith addankiamenad, ashfar atherakhia ash cresistauead, bionnearan brylidassian.” As soon she had uttered the words, a bright hairline crack appeared from nowhere. It slowly made a circle that slowly wound its way around the two. A bright flash of light enveloped them, and in a matter of seconds they were standing in a completely different place.


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Oh-kay, that's all for now, but more to follow.


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## Doelago (Nov 29, 2009)

Ok... A good idea, but in my opinion it missed something... Not just something, but several things... It was kind if confusing at several points, nothing major mostly, but sometimes... You could really leave an empty line when you switch character, as that would probably help... You did neither really describe what people looked like, what they were wearing, and those kinds of things... And there were really no descriptions of the locations they were in...

The story also felt kind of unrealistic at some points... And that guardsman was a damn lucker to get that kind of treatment from Space Marines... Also, you stated that _"The power armour of the Arbites is able to take *a hundred bolter shots* and still hold together"_, that sounds very, very unlikely to me... 

This far I have been very critical, but you would not learn anything if I told you "That was fuck`n awesome", so I have tried to tell you what I think you could improve... No offense in anything I have said, or at least I hope so, and there were good parts as well, one of them being the Imperial Guard fighting the Necrons, I loved that one, and the commisar failing was cool.... + rep for that!

You could erase those errors in the future by putting some extra time into it, so good luck and keep writing!


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Well ,this has been quite educative, I really am rough around the edges, especiall the power armour thing. But the guardsman was the son of the guy who sacrificed himself to save the Warhawks' gene-seed, so they OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

...

that was uncalled for. Yet at the same time mildly entertaining. Ahem, so they feel that it's their duty to help the lad. And also, these Marines work with other imperial forces a lot more often than other chapters.

But the characters Mikhaels and Green, they are former members of 13th Penal Legion, look them up in wh40k.lexicanum.com. Still need to come up with a name for the Eldar Farseer, though. Any ideas?


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## Doelago (Nov 29, 2009)

Yeah, I understood that part, but the Space marine still sounds like a Ultramarine hippie...

But anyway, no more shit talking, what about Eldrad Ulthran? That guy totally kicks ass... But is he to old to kidnap former penal Legion members??


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Dunno, I had a fictional exodite world in mind, Venarel Exodites, and the Farseer will be named Dar'Hael, red hair and emerald eyes. AND a female. Hmm... what's wrong with me, but can't help the Marine. Good ol' Darius will make few more appearances and will be nearly killed near the end of the book. Better get writing!


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## Boc (Mar 19, 2010)

Okay, I’m commenting on this while reading it, so if the flow of my thoughts are a bit disjointed, that’s why. Right now, my intent is just to read through, give my thoughts on the flow/style as well as pick out some error trends that I see, without getting too much into the nitty gritty of it. If you want me to go through in full-git mode (i.e. paragraph by paragraph revisions) depending on what your goal for the story is, let me know and I’ll be more than glad to, although this, understandably, takes time. I’ll go ahead and apologize for being critical, but I am not doing this with the aims of being a dick, just with helping you out with your future endeavours.

I’ll do the criticisms before the complements, so that you will hopefully leave this with a warm fuzzy .

First, and this goes for most forums where people post long segments of text, try to break up the lines for ease of reading. Most of the time, if I open up a fanfic piece (or any post, really) and it is a single giant blurb of text, I don’t even bother reading it. It hurts the eyes. While it is not as big of a deal with the first chapter, as you have broken it down into several posts, the later ones are a bit daunting. To attract more people to the post, try to add that extra space in between paragraphs, and try to break it up a little bit.

Try to avoid using contractions during text. While it is not necessarily incorrect, it does detract from the professionalism of the writing. During dialogue, it is more than acceptable.

Also during dialogue between two characters, it is necessary to break the different speakers into their own paragraphs. During the exchanges between Ventory and Sergeant Darius or the captain, it became a bit cluttered without the clear distinction of “his speech ends here, and his begins here” that be emphasized with the space between.

Try to avoid using needless repetition. For example, you used the word “silently” five times in the first paragraph. Again, while it is acceptable to use repetition, do so with a purpose or to emphasize the word/phrase.

Thoughts are normally portrayed in italics rather than using quotations. Luckily, Heresy-Online uses a higher quality posting program, so to italicize text you can just highlight it and hit ctrl-i, just as though you were in a word document. This has saved my sanity on many-an-occasion.

Be careful using the second-person in text, i.e. “you could never be sure” from the third paragraph. It comes off as jolting when that 4th wall is broken.

While I do like the fairly blunt in-your-face manner of the action, I think you could do with a bit more description. It is very easy to overdo this, and I’ve been known to do it on occasion (okay... like all of the time), but I think if you threw in a bit more sensory detail (satisfying all 5!) then it could really benefit the story.

And enough of the cons, now for the pros:

I liked Ventory. His character was believable (save maybe for the getting a drop on a Plague Marine, but we all get lucky sometimes!) as was his feelings as to suddenly having fallen in with a group of Space Marines.

The plot moves along nice and quickly. You don’t dawdle too long on unnecessary actions (as in a long and drawn out scene of walking to the base) and focus on the important issues that are necessary for further plot development.

The plot is certainly intriguing, in that a Guardsmen has been searched out in particular by the Space Marines and given augmentations. I’ll be looking forward to seeing what these enhancements actually are.

Enjoyable story, overall, and none of these errors (save maybe the block of text which the next chapters are) are off-putting. Considering this is your first work, it is a very solid job. I look forward to the rest.


-Cheers! :victory:
Boc


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Yeah, sorry about the big pieces. The first chapter I copied in pages cuz I opened it in MS Word. The long bits were copied from Wordpad, cuz it don't show pages. And the augmentations, are somewhat along the lines of a SM and a Cadian Kasrkin, somewhat like that.


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

I'll set about editing the chapters, for the ease of reading. Boo-ya!


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

A wee bit more on chapter 3, it's due to be finished soon.

The first thing Mikhaels noticed was that they were standing in a dome of sorts, several buildings and dozens of Eldar going about and working. She stood there, dumbstruck, amazed at what she saw. 
“W-wh-what is this place?” 
“A different dimension. Should anyone approach, he will suddenly remember he has some important business to do.” 
A loud rattling and banging erupted, echoing throughout the whole dome, accompanied by a flying and screaming something. This ‘something’ then knocked Mikhaels down. It turned out to be an Eldar Guardian, knocked unconscious. 
“What’s happening?” she shouted, her voice muffled somewhat by the Eldar lying on top of her. 
The farseer wasn’t moved by this ruckus. 
“I think that they are trying to escape again. They're persistent ones." 
An angered roar came up, accompanied by flying debris and screaming Eldar. 
"FOR THE EMPEROR!!!" echoed in the dome, followed by more flying Eldar. A group of space marines smashed through a wall, and a Guardsman trailing in their wake. The throng soldiered on, and started to hammer at the dome's wall, but uselessly. Suddenly, Mikhaels recognised the man as Green. 
She shouted “Hey, what the hell? It’s pointless!” 
He abruptly turned around, and upon seeing her, sighed “So, they got you too, huh?” 
“Yeah, she got me alright.” She answered, her finger pointed accusingly at the Eldar Farseer. The marines behind them continued pounding the wall, even though it showed no signs of giving. One of them noticed Dar’Hael and, in an act of defiance, charged at her. 
“DIE, WITCH!!!” he roared maniacally. She raised her left hand and let loose with eldritch energies. A loud CLANG rang out, and her assailant flew backwards, followed by a thud as he landed fifteen meters away. It only served to make him more angry. Picking himself up, he lumbered towards her again, but suddenly found himself unable to move. The other marines paused for a moment to take a look at their comrade and Dar’Hael, who was busy muttering a spell of sorts that was undeniably keeping her opponent glued to the spot. A collective roar went up, as the marines charged at her. Mikhaels knew that this was pointless. Dar’Hael had just immobilised a space marine and she surely wouldn’t have problems dispatching the others. 
“STOP! STOP, YOU IDIOTS!” Green shouted. A dozen pairs of eyes locked on to him. The marines ground to a halt. 
“People, we have to stop this nonsense!” he shouted again.
The immobilised marine slowly regained his wits, Dar’Hael having broken the spell. 
“As much I have heard, we have got bigger problems on our hands, like Necrons, right?” He received a nod of agreement from Dar’Hael. 
“So, I suggest that if these Eldar wish to make peace, we better don’t let that chance be wasted.”
Mikhaels went to his side “I second that.”
Dar’Hael smiled “It’s good that at least someone can come to an agreement. What about you, Astartes?” 
The group of marines seemed embarrassed, but then their sergeant spoke. “We cannot guarantee that the High Lords of Terra will agree. But you have our backing. We will still need to contact our chapter master, though.” 
“I see. But first we need to take care of Necrons. But we cannot do it alone. We need your help.”


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

And this is how the chapter 3 ends

Mikhaels stepped forward “Okay, so everything’s fine, right? How ‘bout we properly introduce ourselves, hmm? I’m Mikhaels, a former member of 13th Penal Legion.” 
Green also spoke “I’m Green, also a former member of the 13th.” 
The marine sergeant also joined in “I am Sergeant Darius Ectelion of 3rd squad of 4th Company of Templars of Steel chapter. These are my squad members Marcius Samuel, Xavier Shivon, Vearn Thunder, Gideon Exodus, but the other five have never spoken. No one knows their names." Each of them nodded in turn. 
Dar'Hael spoke again "I will guide you to a Sororitas' Convent. There you will meet a young man that I have seen him in my visions. He will help you." 
"But how will we recognize him?" Darius asked. 
"Don't worry about that. I'm sure he'll recognize you. Now, let me open the portal." 
She removed one of her soulstones from her armour, and handed it to Mikhaels. “Take care of this and it will guide you safely. If you ever need my help, just whisper my name to it.” 
She then slammed her spear into the dome’s wall, tearing a rift. It radiated blindingly white light and a terribly strong wind was blowing from it. 
She shouted “GO! NOW! WHILE IT IS OPEN!” 
The marines jumped through, followed by Green and Mikhaels. And just in time they did, too. The rift was putting increased pressure on Dar’Hael, who was straining to keep the rift open. She pulled the spear back, as the portal slammed shut. She fell to her knees, breathing heavily, shuddering in exhaustion. 
Then she whispered “May… may the stars guide your way, friends.”


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Chapter 4 here, folks. Read and rate.

Chapter 4 – Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
Thought for the day: That was then, this is now

259.M42
Wermaol Secundus
Midden Wastelands

This skirmish with Slaaneshi raiders had gone bad, really bad. Many of her fellow Sororitas had been killed and others had been taken as sacrifices. Now Icaria was standing alone, gazing across the desert landscape. Suddenly, she heard a commotion. Behind her, a portal had opened. It flashed with warp energies, as it threw a daemonette through. The being before her stood up, dusted herself off and upon noticing her, and smiled, revealing two rows of sharp, glinting teeth. 
“Aaah, well helloo” the daemonette spoke. 
Icaria felt lightheaded. The daemonette looked so alluringly beautiful and entrancing, yet so sickening and repulsing at the same time. The claw that served as her right hand clicked expectantly, while she slowly approached Icaria. But she was no fool. Growling, she swung her chainsword at the daemonette. She moved as lightning, stepping behind Icaria and bound her with a spell. 
“So foolish” the daemonette hissed in her ear. 
Icaria suddenly felt the six-inch tongue of the daemonette slide along her jaw up to the tip of her ear. She would have shuddered if it wasn’t for the spell keeping her bound. Then, an idea flashed in her mind. If she could just pretend she’s playing along, she might be able to slip free from the spell. But it was increasingly difficult to stay concentrated as the daemonette. 
The world seemed more colourful and the colours… hotter? The daemonette seemed to be working Icaria in a trance of sorts. It also seemed to weaken the spell. Icaria became aware of a strand of drool trickling from the corner of her lips. But she could almost reach the chainsword, only a few centimetres left. The daemonette didn’t notice this, being too busy trying to unlock Icaria’s armour. The spell suddenly broke. Icaria bolted forward, the sudden movement tearing a gash in her armour and leaving the confused daemonette empty-handed. Icaria didn’t give her any chance to attack as she neatly bisected her head in two.


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Her feelings returned to her, alongside with a strange feeling. 
“Thank you for freeing me from this body…” a haunting whisper reached her ears. 
She swung round, but, to her surprise, she saw a ghostly figure of a woman. 
It spoke again “I was seduced and turned to the Chaos. You have set my soul free. Farewell.” 
Without a further word, the soul disappeared, leaving Icaria speechless. 
She heard the low boom of artillery and sighed. This kind of mayhem was happening all around the planet. Chaos raiders were appearing out of nowhere. Those that were captured alive said only that ‘the greatest battle of all times is soon to be’. Were they talking about a Crusade? Could it be the 14th Black Crusade? It was all very puzzling, but her train of thoughts was interrupted by the whine of shuttle engines.
_ “Maybe I could get a lift”_ she thought. 
She straightened herself and thrust her chainsword in the air and saw the shuttle alter its course. Then she noticed the fleur-de-lis of Sororitas painted it on its side, alongside with a skull on top of a cross. It was one of their own transports! The landing legs extended, as the shuttle came to a halt, exhaust gases blowing dust in every direction. A sturdy catwalk extended and she saw a young man beckon her towards him. Confused, she took several uncertain steps towards the shuttle. The man seemed impatient, and another, older man came out, one whom she instantly recognized. Her long-time mentor, Samael! Relieved, she ran up the catwalk and hugged him warmly. 
He was the man who had found her in the slums as a small girl. He had taken pity on her and taken her back to the convent, given her food, shelter, and most importantly, had persuaded the Canoness to accept her request to become one of the Sororitas. He was the closest thing to a family she would ever have. The shuttle’s walkway retracted as she stepped inside. Then she realized that it was the Canoness’s shuttle. Whoever this young man was, he had to be of great importance. He sat upon a container that undeniably belonged to him.
She heard the pilot’s voice through the vox “I am seeing some flashes a bit further. Looks like a warp rift, but isn’t one. Should we investigate?”


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Samael spoke instantly “We’re going. How far is it?” 
“A hundred metres or so.” 
“Okay, Icaria, you ready? Ventory?” He received a nod. 
Ventory slid of the container and opened it. Icaria’s eyes widened. Inside the box lay a brand new suit of Kasrkin armour, coloured in red, black, and white. A winged star and a stencilled 712 decorated the pauldrons. A hellgun and a power sword were lying besides it. Without hesitation, he quickly strapped it on himself, grabbed the sword, placed it in its holster and grabbed his hellgun and when he connected it to the power leads, they could hear the humming as the weapon powered up. 
Amnito spoke again “Fine, you are clear to go. If you need any help, just call me.” 
The hatch popped open again and the walkway was extended. Samael was on the ground first, hefting a melta. Ventory put on his helmet and followed. Icaria followed, sporting a flamer. 
A voice crackled in her earpiece “Up for a race? First to get there gets free drinks on me!” It was Ventory. Icaria nodded and saw Samael do the same. Then she saw that Samael was already off, dust trailing in his wake and followed him, his speed matching her agile grace. Ventory just sighed and bolted. His enhanced muscles kicked in and he felt like he had been shot out of a cannon. Kerlan had done one hell of a job with the implants. In mere seconds he caught up with them, and a second later he flew past the two. They ground to a halt and stared, open mouthed. Ventory was already at the group which had emerged from the rift. Icaria saw ten space marines and two Imperial Guard soldiers walking at a casual pace. Upon seeing Ventory, the marines pulled their weapons out, but were stopped by their sergeant. He spoke, but Icaria couldn’t hear anything. The sergeant suddenly started to laugh, and shook his hand with Ventory. Ventory gave a thumbs-up to Icaria and Samael. 
She heard his voice in her earpiece “Call the shuttle, we got some more passengers!” She immediately did so, and saw the shuttle dust off and gracefully land near the group. The walkway extended again, and the marines boarded first, the metal plate creaking in protest. As the fifteen passengers had gotten in, there was little place left. As Amnito lifted off, the whine of the engines was clearly audible.


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

This shuttle wasn’t used to such weight. Now it was moving almost sluggishly.
Icaria used the time to observe the new companions. A guardsman with haunted look, a lasgun slung over his shoulder. A guardswoman armed with a bolt pistol and an ornate chainsword strapped to her belt. She had two scars running down her right side of her face, and a bandana that was tied around her head. She had that aura of ruthlessness about her, but then Icaria noticed several digits tattooed on her forehead and a thought flashed through her mind. _“She must be one of those Penal Legionnaires!”_ she thought. Now she was idly tracing one of the razor-sharp blades on her chainsword with her finger. Mikhaels noticed Icaria’s gaze and gave her a slight smile. Icaria wasn’t one to be scared easily, but, when Mikhaels smiled as she did now, Icaria felt her heart sink. Mikhaels broke the eye contact when they heard the vox. 
“I see some fighting ahead. Looks like some Orks have pinned down a group of Guardsmen. Do we land?” 
Ventory grabbed the microphone “Yes. Set us down behind them.”
The shuttle whined and its hull groaned again, protesting against the sudden movement. They felt the gentle swing as they set down. The hatch sprung open again, and they trotted down once more, Ventory already sprinting ahead, marines lagging behind.
Wortdreg Gobork, an Ork ‘Ard Boy, was happy. He was safely protected in his armour, as he and his boyz kept on advancing against the ‘umiez that were hiding. But, before he even knew what was happening, an explosion knocked him down. Through his helmet slit, he saw a bunch of other ‘oomans closing in. With some effort, he got up and saw one of those burny ‘umiez coming at him. His animalistic features crinkled into a smile. He would enjoy this.
Icaria charged straight for the ‘Ard Boy, to throw other Orks in confusion by depriving them of their leader. In a swift move, she sliced off his right arm in the shoulder untouched by bioniks. Wortdreg glanced to his right shoulder, as with a crack, his clavicle snapped, sending the arm to the ground. 
"Well thass jus’ queer," muttered the Ork.


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

A follow up slash by Mikhaels rendered him unable to walk. The Ork was now spouting obscenities at the two women. Icaria sighed, dissappointed at the Ork's inability to suffer from blood loss and shock. Mikhaels kicked the still yammering torso aside, as they both sliced in a nearby gaggle of Sluggas.
Ventory pressed the trigger and saw a Shoota boy's leg peeled off by concentrated light. This was SO much better than his old lasgun! He holstered his 'gun and drew his power sword. The blade crackled with deadly energy as he sliced a Nob's leg of, cauterizing the stump. Stuffing a grenade down the Ork's throat, he jumped over it, into more Boyz. Behind him, the Nob was turned to mincemeat. The Guardsmen, no longer pinned down, were getting into positions that were more suitable for an attack. Their defenses were bolstered by Darius and his squad. Ventory was breathing heavily. He had killed many Orks, but they kept coming. He sat down on a dead Ork, after throwing a grenade to clear out a space. He saw Mikhaels and Icaria were still continuing their onslaught. Both women were covered in Orkish blood, a testimony to their combat prowess. Mikhaels was brutal about it, stabbing, punching, and dismembering Orks with each swing she took. Icaria, on other hand, was incredibly graceful. Her swings and jabs all flowed together, in an endless dance of death and steel. Blocking a Choppa with her own chainsword, she emptied three bolts in the Ork's head. The headless corpse had not even hit the ground when she was upon another Ork. This one got a bit luckier, managing to knock her bolt pistol out of her hand. Her reply was quick - a punch in the Ork's gob, followed by several flying teeth. 
A nearby Slugga shouted "I want dem teef! Don't touch 'em teef!" 
Icaria sliced the 'teefless' Ork before her in two. Picking her bolt pistol up, she pounced again , slicing her way through a gaggle of Orks towards Mikhaels. She was cursing, slicing, and beheading Orks, as they just kept coming at the 'puny 'umie'. 
"Dance, humie, dance!" an Ork shouted, throwing his Shoota at them. 
And Icaria obliged. She gracefully dodged the thrown weapon and ripped the Ork's heart out with her chainsword. 
"Mrrrrp" the Ork mumbled and fell to the ground. A hail of bolter shells ripped the rest apart.
Ventory was advancing now, firing at the stragglers. More guardsmen joined him, the counterattack gaining momentum each second. Grenade launchers coughed, lobbing incendiaries at the Ork mob. Darius stepped in as well, his squad following him, their weapons empty but now they were brandishing long, broad blades. Bullets pinged off their armour. Samael was busy melting Ork's faces away. The Orks were looking like they might turn tail and run for it. And they did. Howling, on all four limbs they ran, Guardsmen and Marines on the chase. The Orks ran towards a dejected gaggle of badly mauled vehicles. But, as soon they got in, a barrage of missiles streaked out of skies and blew them apart. A trio of Marauder bombers thundered across. Whooping cheers went up from the Guardsmen lines. Ventory walked up to the CO of the Guardsmen platoon. "Do you have any means of transportation?" "No, we were just on a daily excercise, fifteen kilometres towards and back."


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## Jancisman (Aug 3, 2010)

good book :victory:


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

"Ok then, we'll be on our way." Ventory responded. 
The PDF men marched off. Ventory walked over to Mikhaels, who was greedily gulping air, her shoulders slumping. She was entirely covered in spatters of blood, sitting on top of an Ork. Icaria was in more or less the same state, leaning heavily on the hilt of her chainsword. 
"Hey, what the hell's this thing?" Green had found something. It was a power armour, bedecked in blue and gold. 
"It's a Thousand Sons armour. I think it's empty." 
Mikhaels stood up "I wanna try it on." 
Carefully, she placed the huge metal ceramite plates on her body and locked the clasps together with help from others. There she was, unable to move, seemingly tiny among the armour. Green placed the helmet above her head, completing her new look. Her muffled voice was barely heard, but she seemed annoyed. Suddenly, the armour shook and ran off. Apparently the original occupant of the armour was still inside, and now was shouting for Mikhaels to 'get the hell out'. It smashed in the shuttle and fell apart. Green fell to ground, clutching his sides, all the while laughing uncontrollably, followed by several heavy thuds as Darius and the rest of the marines crashed to the ground, their roaring laughter echoing. Icaria and Samael were only smirking. Darius picked himself up from the ground, still shaking with suppressed laughter. He lifted the age-old plates off Mikhaels and stretched his hand out. 
"Thanks", she grunted and grasped the heavy gauntlet. As she pulled herself up, for one fleeting moment, she and Darius looked into each other's eyes. They both froze, and momentarily blushed as red as blood. She stood up completely, milling about uncertainly. Darius spoke, obviously feeling very uncomfortable "We, uh, should get back on the, uh, shuttle." 
Mikhaels fidgeted "Yeah, it's ah, a good idea." 
She too, was feeling a bit rattled by the whole ordeal. 

Suddenly, the whole sky went pitch-dark. A freezing wind rushed over the plateau. At the horizon, a faint green glow pulsated, increasing in size and brightness. 
"Necrons are coming," urgently whispered Mikhaels "We need to raise some help, from the PDF forces or Sororitas' convents!" 
Others murmured in agreement, as they all got on the shuttle. They left the dreary place, the smoking Ork corpses and vehicles, and flew towards the Saviours' convent. 
The shuttle's interior felt very warm after the freezing wind had risen outside, and the viewports had been covered in a layer of ice as temperature outside dropped below zero. The heating system growled as it fought to keep the deathly chill out. Everyone was silent, even the cogboy Amnito was silent. The journey seemed to go on forever. The chill seemed to creep into the shuttle, covering all the holy scripts in a layer of frost. The heating system just whined, its Machine Spirit protesting against the heavy burden, slowly dying. Everyone, except Marines, was shudering. Ventory hadn't removed his armour and was slumping against the wall, a thick layer of frost covering him. He wasn't moving. Mikhaels, Green and Samael were shuddering uncontrollably, their teeth chattering. They were all covered in frost. This chorus of rat-tat-tat was heard by everyone. Icaria stood up and walked over to Ventory cautiously. He still didn't move, not a single muscle. She knocked on his visor. No response. Her gauntleted fingers scraped at the layer of ice covering the visor, chipping it off the amber-coloured plexi-glass. Two blue eyes peered at her through it. He was fine, listening to tac-vox chatter of skirmishes around the planet. She sighed, relieved that he wasn't dead. As she walked back, she was wondering why she felt so attached to him. Her life was only devotion, war, purging the heretics and faith. His - death, war and duty. Both were serving the Emperor, both had a holy duty to keep the Imperium safe. She pushed these thoughts away and sat down again. 
A creaked voice spoke througth the badly-frozen vox "We are going to land at the convent in 5 minutes ETA." 

Mikhaels was stomping on the floor, rubbing her shoulders, in an attempt to warm herself up. A couple of minutes they set down. Several Sororitas came out, their armour also encrusted in frost, they welcomed the newcomers and led them inside the convent. They walked inside the vast halls, prayers and singing echoing all around them and filling them with awe and reverance. They were led to a room, complete with food and beds. They thanked and set about eating. As they did, they felt their spirits lift and felt reinvigorated again, the simple yet delicious food loosening their tongues.
Mikhaels looked around "Huh, so they were expecting us. Wonder how it will turn out." 
Samael mumbled something incoherent through all the food in his mouth. A second later he spoke clearly "As much I can presume, Canoness Eleanor will seek audience with Ventory and the rest of you. But that will happen tomorrow. For now, we should get some sleep." With that, he finished his meal and exited the chamber. Icaria finished her meal a minute later and left. Ventory removed his armour and laid down on the soft bed. The Templars also had exited the room to say their prayers. As the silence settled in the room, he heard Mikhaels laugh.
"What's so funny?"
She smiled at him "Methinks that our good ol' Sororita fancies ya."
"...what? What makes you think that?"
"I got an eye. A THIRD EYE. I SEE ALL AND KNOW ALL." she eyeballed him "Seriously though, when we finished off the Orks back there, she did look at you a bit weirdly. I think she would have stared at you longer had I not bumped into her."
"Hah. And how does that make her love me?"
"Dunno, just got a feeling, that's all." She had no idea that the very person they were talking about was listening right behind the door. Icaria took a step back from the door. That woman had quite an eye for such things. Sighing, she left for her own room.
"Okay, you two finished with that? 'cause I want to sleep." The annoyed voice of Green reached them.
"Fine, we'll let ya sleep, mister."
Mikhaels rolled over. Her mind was in a turmoil. She found it easy to make fun of soemone's affections, trying to hide the fact that she had also fallen for someone. She and Ventory talked for a while longer, until the tiredness got to them. They slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep, with Green snoring so enthusiastically, like he was trying to saw the night in two.

_The grizzled guardsman ducked under the blow that could've taken off his head. Warmaster Abaddon sneered and took another step forward. The guardsman scrambled to his feet and picked up his lasgun. Steadily he raised it to his cheek and took a shot. The beam of light hit Abaddon's pauldron, not even slowing him down. You will die, he heard in his head. Give in to the forces of Chaos and I might just spare your life, the roaring laughter forced him down on his knees and clamped his hands over his ears. When the laughter subsided, he got up. Abaddon was nowhere to be seen. Warily, he took a step forward. He had to find a way out of here. He felt a fierce pain pulse through his body. Looking down, he saw the long talons from Abaddon's claw had dug through him. His lasgun clattered to the floor. His blood filed his lungs. He felt himself being hoisted up and thrown across the cavernous hall. The impact against the wall broke his back, including a wide array of other bones. His vision went black. But still, he uttered the words. I won't bow to you, heretic. I w-won't bow...to you... h-heretic. With that, he passed away. Abbadon sighed. Another soul for Drach'nyen. He turned around and walked away, leaving the dead guardsman to the beasts. His mind was occupied with something more important. The largest crusade to be was drawing near._

Green felt someone shaking him awake. He heard the annoyed voice of Mikhaels trying to get him up. Her footsteps receded and then a freezing cold shower of water greeted him. As he bolted upright, he was plucked from the bed by Ventory "Come on, the Canoness is waiting! Do you have any idea what time is it?"
Reinvigorated this way, he hastily put dry clothes on and joined the rest on their way to the Hall of Meeting. More and more Sororitas joined them, whispering all the time. Mikhaels spotted Icaria and soon she was besides the group "When you stand before her, keep your head down. Show to her that you are subservient. If not, she will have your head on a silver platter." The giant doors down the corridor swung open, and the sight took their breath away. Countless Sororitas were already present, sitting by the long tables or in the alcoves. Mikhaels sat down by a vacant table, and others followed suit. The murmur around them abruptly stopped as another, smaller door opened and the Canoness Eleanor walked in. She radiated power and confidence, and Ventory understood why everyone respected her so deeply. Her armour bore many dents and scratches and her eyes seemed to bore into the very being of one's soul. For a single moment she looked into Ventory's eyes and he blushed immediately. She made her way over to the podium and spoke in a powerful, clear voice "Troubling news have reached me. All over the planet, heretical forces of Chaos are striking at our cities and settlements. But an even more sinister force is advancing upon our capital. The soulless Necrons have arisen, hellbent on exterminating every single life on this planet." With this, hundreds of angry voices rose, overwhelming each other. Canoness tried to restore order, but to no avail. She patiently waited for a few minutes until the angry chatter subsided "Dark times have come upon us. But still, there is a hope for us, for we have a hero in our midst! Ventory Vogatyn, come and stand by my side!"
He stood up, feeling quite woozy as he made his way towards the podium. Hundreds of eyes followed him, suppresed whispers echoed in the Hall. When he stood by Canoness, he could actually _feel_ her confidence and faith flow from her. It was quite an honour to be standing beside her. She turned to face him and locked him with her steely gaze. After what seemed like an eternity, she broke the eye contact and he felt like he had been interrogated for hours. She picked up a long box and handed it to Ventory. When he opened it, he couldn't believe his eyes. An old chainsword and a bolt pistol lay inside. Although both had lost much of their colouring, he could still make out a scruffy '381' on the hilt. "These are your father's weapons. Take good care of them." Completely dumbfounded, he just simply bowed to her and made his way back to his seat. Even when Canoness resumed the meeting, he studied his father's weapons. She kept talking about requisitioning of heavy artillery, tanks, troops, but it all just passed through his ears. A sudden commotion brought him to attention. The meeting had come to an end. Clatter filled the hall as countless Sororitas left.
Mikhaels nudged him slightly "Hey, let's go. The Canoness wishes to talk to you.


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## TheJolt (Jan 31, 2010)

First, why is chapter 1 in multiple pieces?

Secondly the thought for the day in chapter 2 is missing a 'the' before Emperor's.

That's what I got from a quick scan.


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## arturslv (May 12, 2010)

Haaah, it is my first try after all...


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