# An SW old fanfic I found on my computer, enjoy!



## CraftworldSurathin (Dec 18, 2011)

So this is something I wrote for English class a little while back, figured I'd post it for shiggles.

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For all the open space the high ceiling of his private chambers afforded him, Logan Grimnar felt confined. He paced about a long, rectangular central table strewn with maps, charts, holographic displays and weapons, occasionally staring at something intently before turning aside and gazing into empty air. Stopping at a worn box, he lifted it to his nose, letting the scent of the fine tobacco inside register with his enhanced senses. "A fine gift," he muttered before setting it back down, where it flopped open to reveal a row of tightly wrapped cigars. He continued to pace.

He paused to look at a mirror on the wall, eying his reflection. He was a solid three meters tall, with exaggerated features. His hair was long, course, and grey, falling down his face and into his equally long beard. Opening his mouth revealed a set of massive fangs where a normal man would have had canine teeth. 'The man in the mirror looks tired,' Grimnar thought to himself.

A knock on the door grabbed his attention. "Enter," he bade.

A massive figure, wearing a robe of brown animal furs came into the room. "My lord, the Companies are ready to depart at your word."

Grimnar looked down at himself, absently checking his Terminator armor. He could not help but marvel, somewhere in his mind, at the sheer ingenuity of it. Plates of plasteel fused together in a lobstered mail. Wires running from generators to various pieces of arcane technology. He adjusted the two-barreled gun mounted on his left wrist, and sighed. "I will be along presently."

"My lord," the robed figure began in a booming voice, "what seems to be troubling you?"

The old man, lifting his gaze to the robed figure, pointed to the table covered in charts. "For all the power of the Allfather, for all the technology of the Iron Wolf, for all the might of Fenris, the Imperium is plagued. By xenos. By heretics. By the weakness of humanity itself. By bureaucrats!" He shook his head.

"Sir, I have been a member of you guard for three decades and I have never seen you despair. The state of the galaxy has not changed. Why now do you bear this weight?"

"'For a stranger will come. He will have the power to bring an end to all. He will ask for nothing and take everything. He will laugh at gods, and cower at children.'"

"What is that?"

"Xenos filth. Do you recall the campaign against a Chaos incursion we undertook last year? There were Eldar present, as you know. They sometimes fought the traitors with us, and sometimes were content to watch. At the end of one the last battles, their leader spoke to me as we clearing one of their fortifications. 'For a stranger will come,' and the rest."

"Surely you put no stock in that?"

The older man looked down at his fellow. "Only a fool follows Eldar advice, but only a greater fool ignores it." He gazed once more into the air, then shook his head. "Still, at any rate, duty calls. I shall go lead the men. Good luck watching Fenris in my absence, I hear Lucas has convinced the new recruits it would be the height of hilarity to lock an ice troll in your chambers."

"I shall be sure-," the other man started, but was unable to finish. For, at that moment, a sound erupted from within the chamber. It was similar to the grating of an immobilized tank, and became louder in the space of moments. Logan immediately hoisted a knife from his belt and aimed his bolter. The robed man pulled a knife of his own from within his robes. Slowly scanning the room, both men could at first see nothing. Then, slowly, something began to catch their eye. It looked like a flicker of light at first, and grew into a box shape.

Just as four more giants burst into the room, weapons drawn and wary for trouble, the object settled into being. It stood roughly two meters tall, shorter than the assembled warrior but roughly as wide. It was blue, with indentations all over its surface and occasional patches of white.

"What in the name of Russ is this sorcery? Grimnar bellowed, glancing sidelong at his guardians.

A voice suddenly arouse from the box. "No, no, not sorcery, science. Well, to you they're a bit of the same. Really to everyone they're the same I suppose, when you think about it. But that's beside the point."

One the recently arrived men shouted at the voice. "Name yourself, demon, that we may know whom we kill."

An opening appeared on the side of the box, through which a human head emerged. It started to speak. "Don't shoot, don't shoot. No need for killing anything, demon or otherwise. As for a name, well that's easy, isn't it?

I'm the Doctor...
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Kind of silly, I know. Feel free to mock it mercilessly.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Not bad, easy to follow and a hilarious ending. :good: 

However, as is my duty, I'm moving it to the Original Works forum, where works of fiction should be posted. 

- Moved.


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## CraftworldSurathin (Dec 18, 2011)

Oh, shoot, thank you very much.


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