Fists of Dorn

[Mr.(Space)Marine]

FISTS OF DORN

 

 

http://www.tristanworld.com/logo%20Imperial%20Fists.GIF

 

 

PART I

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

 

Big Boss Jagruk ‘Umie-stompa fired his oversized kustom shoota into the air in frustration. His boyz should have taken this ‘umie fort ages ago. It had been several hours, and the big gunz had been continuously firing at the fortress wall, but had still not taken it down. Those ‘umies build their walls pretty tough, thought Jagruk.

 

Jagruk’s mega armour whined as he looked at the scene in front of him from atop the hill. A large stone fortress loomed above him, several hundred meters away. Its thick, battle-scarred walls were so high only a few towers were visible, jutting out from behind the walls. Hundreds of squabbling Orks hooted and hollered, gathered in a huge mass just outside the fortress. The occasional Lasgun shot fired out from a vision slit in the wall, while some of the more impatient Orks fired uselessly at the wall.

 

“Da boyz is gettin’ restless,” said Jagruk aloud, watching as one particulary stupid Ork hammered his fists on the fortress.

 

“Oi, boss!” yelled one of Jagruk’s Nobz, the boss of the Black Deff boyz, “da big gunz still ‘aven’t taken down da walls! Da boyz are gettin’ restless!” Jagruk advanced on the Nob, the dirt and gravel crunching under his iron-clad feet. The Nob took a step backwards.

 

“Do ya fink I don’t know that, you stupid git!” Jagruk said, spitting in the Nob’s face. The Nob backed away, its sudden fear at being the next victim in Jagruk’s notoriously long execution list clearly visible.

 

“Sorry, boss, I was just remindin’ you so wez can get da ‘umies sooner, dats all.” Jagruk glanced at the massive battery of big gunz, firing salvoes at the near-colapsing walls, before grabbing the Nob in his power klaw. The Nob yelled in pain as Jagruk squished him into a bloody paste. The other Nobz looked on in amusement, silently laughing amongst themselves. Jagruk glared at the Nobs.

 

“Fink its funny, do youz?” asked Jagruk, the blood still dripping from his rusty power klaw. The Nobs suddenly stopped smiling, and quickly shook their heads. “You,” said Jagruk, pointing at a particularly burly Nob, “you is da new boss of the Blakk Deff boyz, gottit?” The Nob nodded in agreement.

 

As Jagruk begun to lecture his Nobs on what the battle plan was for the seventh time, a tremendously loud noise suddenly boomed across the battlefield, a noise so loud it sounded like Gork himself was stomping the ground with his feet.

 

The mass of boyz backed away from the heavily dented wall, which was collapsing into itself because of the constant shelling of the big gunz. Jagruk’s eyes went alight with thoughts of bloodshed and the fight to come, and he could see the relish on the faces of the Nobs that they were finally going to fight.

 

Jagruk climbed up to the highest point on the hill, his retinue of Nobs following him up.

 

“Well, boyz, what are you waiting for? Da ‘umies can’t hide now!” bellowed Jagruk, “WAAAGH!” The war cry echoed across the field as every Ork screamed at the top of their lungs, before surging in a great mass—like a living tide of green fury—towards the breach in the wall. Shootas and sluggas were fired into the polluted air in excitement as Imperial Guard infantry advanced onto the pile of rubble left on the breach.

 

Jagruk barrelled down the hill, knocking Orks and Gretchin from their feet as he struggled to get to the front of the horde. Lasgun fire erupted from the breach, cutting down scores of orks, but not enough to stem the tide. Guardsmen collapsed as big shootas ripped into their lines, and rokkit shots exploded in their midst. The Orks were about to hit home, when an epic noise sounded in Jagruk’s ears.

 

Jagruk stopped in his tracks as the rest of the boyz began to clamber up the side of the rubble to get to grips with their foe. He squinted up at the polluted skies, and saw blazing streaks of light flying down towards them. The streaks sliced through the atmosphere, and Jagruk finally saw the yellow colour of the objects. Jagruk yelled out, his terrible voice rising above the din of battle.

 

“Marine-boyz! Dis fight is gettin’ better an better!”

 

 

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Well thats chapter 1. I plan on writing more for it in the next few days, but that will be all for now. Sorry if its a bit rusty, haven't written in a while. C&C welcome.

[Mr.(Space)Marine]

CHAPTER TWO

 

 

 

Veteran Sergeant Korsoros gripped his bolter tightly as the drop-pod shook violently. He kept his muscles tense to avoid rattling around inside the pod, which was in the process of smashing through the planet’s atmosphere.

 

“30 Seconds!” said Brother Gardatus, reading from an auspex in his hands. Gardatus had to yell over the immense noise that the drop-pod was producing. Korsoros nodded, his face not showing a flicker of emotion—not that the other Astartes saw, for he wore his Mk VII helmet.

 

The rest of Squad Korsoros stood unmoving, all holding their boltguns close to their chests, whilst the heavy weapon marine checked to make sure his missile launcher was locked and loaded. The special weapon trooper switched his flamer on, a tiny blue flame erupting from the gas tube underneath the muzzle.

 

The planet of Larosia III was under attack by an Ork Waaagh of massive proportions, the result of a new and ambitious Arch-Maniac of Calverna. The Ork Empire of Calverna had been wracked by constant infighting for several hundred years, but Xenologists predicted that an Ork Waaagh was imminent. They proved correct. The small amounts of Imperial outposts guarding the outskirts of the Segmentum Pacificus were quickly overwhelmed by the new Waaagh, before the Orks invaded the Segmentum Solar, intent on capturing Imperial worlds to add to their already substantial Empire.

 

Several Imperial worlds from the Segmentum Solar had already fallen to the huge fleets and armies of the Orkish hordes, but the immense Ork Waaagh was beginning to slow in the face of staunch Imperial resistance. Add to that the arrival of several Space Marine Chapters—including three battle companies of the Imperial Fists—and the Orks wouldn’t have a chance.

 

“10 Seconds!” Gardatus’ voice cut through the noise, and as he said so the drop-pod began to stop shuddering as violently. They had plunged through the atmosphere. Korsoros tightened his muscles to resist the bone-shattering impact of the drop-pod. Although it would not prove to be bone-shattering for an Astartes, if he did not tense his muscles he could end up stumbling for a second or two and every second counts.

 

Korsoros’ thoughts were interrupted by a huge shudder going through the drop-pod, making him shake slightly. The drop-pod had hit its destination. The grav-harnesses strapped to each marine’s chest released, and the explosive opening devices blew open the assault ramps.

 

“Go!” barked Korsoros, already hearing the loud thuds of bolter fire, “let us show the enemies of the Emperor what the sons of Dorn are made of!” The rest of the squad punched the air as they moved out of the pod down the assault ramp.

 

Veteran Sergeant Korsoros was the first out of the pod, and his presence was met with a storm of tracer fire from the Ork’s crude guns. Korsoros let out a short burst of bolter rounds into the Ork lines as he jogged out onto the dirt. Squad Korsoros formed up into battle formation, the guns of the enemy seemingly having no effect on the power-armoured warriors.

 

The din of battle sounded through Korsoros’ ears—the loud blasts of the Orkish guns; the barking of bolters; the hammer of Ork artillery; and the flash of Lasgun fire. The Imperial Guard were obviously still fighting for their lives.

 

Squad Korsoros let out a storm of disciplined bolter fire as the heavy weapon trooper set up his missile launcher. Korsoros examined the situation.

 

The squads of the Imperial Fists were storming out of their drop-pods, setting up a perimeter around their landing site. The majority of the vast horde of orks was fighting the Imperial Guard in and around the fortress known as Citadel XIV, but some mobs that weren’t swept up in the charge were advancing upon the Space Marines. Ork corpses littered the battlefield, either cut down by the Imperial Fists or killed by volleys of Lasguns earlier in the conflict. Squad Korsoros continued to pour fire into the advancing mobs of Orks as they awaited Brother-Captain Utrel’s orders.

 

A frag missile streaked into the closest mob of Orks, hurling charred corpses into the air. The mob was only a hundred meters away now, and kept running forwards no matter how many of their number were killed. Other Orks advanced upon the rest of the Imperial Fists, clambering up the hill to get to grips with their enemy.

 

Brother-Captain Utrel and his command squad descended the hill as the rest of the Imperial Fists stood as implacable bastions, pouring yet more bolter rounds into the seemingly endless tide of Orks.

 

“Brothers!” bellowed Utrel, his voice carrying over the entire battlefield, “we are Imperial Fists! We do not wait for the enemy to come to us! We come to them!” A loud cheer erupted from the warriors of the Imperial Fists. “This Xenos filth has come to defile a world of the Emperor, and it is our job to wipe their stain from the face of the planet! Primarch, progenitor, to your glory, and to the glory of Him on Earth! Charge!” The Space Marines echoed Utrel’s battle cry as they thundered down into the Orks. Assault squads hurled through the air, landing into the centre of the mass of greenskins. Korsoros hefted his bolter and sprinted down the hill, firing off bursts from his bolter into the foul Xenos.

 

Squad Korsoros followed him, hefting exchanging their bolters for combat knives—knives the size of a human’s sword. The gap closed quickly, and Korsoros eyed the largest of the enemy to be his opponent, and holstered his bolter, swapping it for his combat knife. The closest Ork hurled itself at Korsoros, swinging its crude weapon above its head to bring it down upon the Veteran Sergeant. Korsoros anticipated such a move, and dodged the slow swing as the rest of the Imperial Fists crashed into the greenskin horde. The Ork tried to bring its weapon up to block Korsoros’ combat knife, but was too slow in its efforts. The large knife slammed into the alien’s throat, splitting open the Ork’s tough skin. Crimson blood spurted out onto the Imperial Fist’s armour as the Ork’s eyes rolled back into its head as it begun to die of blood loss. The Xenos dropped its weapon and collapsed to the ground as Korsoros drew his weapon out of the Ork’s throat.

 

As soon as Korsoros looked up again another Ork barrelled into him, knocking him from his feet. The Ork and the Space Marine grappled with each other, struggling to gain an advantage. Even the Astartes’ considerable strength was not enough to stop a charging Ork. But once an Ork lost its momentum, the superhuman abilities of a Space Marine could gain an advantage. Korsoros took advantage of that fact and pushed the Ork off him, hurling it onto the dirt as the chaos and confusion of melee erupted around him. Korsoros quickly launched himself to his feet and grabbed his combat knife. The Ork tried to get itself from its feet, but before it could do so Korsoros plunged his Combat Knife into its heart. Repeatedly stabbing the greenskins in various vital spots, the Imperial Fist finally finished the Ork.

 

The Veteran Sergeant recomposed himself and quickly assessed the situation. One member of his squad lay dead on the ground, hacked apart by crude blows from a choppa. Ork corpses were piled high everywhere.

 

Korsoros heard the heavy stomps of a thick boots, and turned to see a monster of an Ork advancing upon him. This was not a Warboss—it lacked the sheer amount of grisly trophies Warbosses’ had—but it was certainly this group’s leader. A massive axe was held in its right hand, while a crude choppa was grasped in its left.

 

Korsoros adopted a defensive combat stance as the Ork started to sprint towards him, a guttural warcry coming from its huge mouth.

[Captain Antonius]

Your story is coming together well. The action sequences could be filled with a little more detail. Not just detail about what's going on as far as the battle goes, but also about how Sgt. Korsoros is thinking about the battle. He is obviously your main focus, so you should try to develope him into more than just a "veteran sergeant". He was once a man, who was recruited by the IF and made it through that recruitment process to be a scout who then went on to be a full battle brother who then was promoted to sergeant and now has earned his Terminator Honors. That's a lot of time to be an Imperial Fist. He's been around the block a few times. We as readers want to know about his past and how that past is influencing his decisions in this current campaign.

 

You might also like to think about this: several times in the Horus Heresy books, the space marines state that they know no fear but that they do feel. You mentioned one of Sgt. Korsoros' squad members has been killed. He's going to feel that loss and be affected by it in some way. It might be rage or disapointment or something else, but he's going to be affected and that might send him back to another battle where someone he was close to was lost. These Astartes are Battle-Brothers, brothers in blood the same as a biological family. Just something to think about.

 

Keep up the good work.

[Mr.(Space)Marine]

Okay I'll bear your suggestions in mind. I plan on making each part better than the last.

 

He was once a man, who was recruited by the IF and made it through that recruitment process to be a scout who then went on to be a full battle brother who then was promoted to sergeant and now has earned his Terminator Honors. That's a lot of time to be an Imperial Fist. He's been around the block a few times. We as readers want to know about his past and how that past is influencing his decisions in this current campaign.

 

I was going to do his little history thing after the battle, because really, he doesn't have long enough to think about how he came to be a space marine during a battle. But yeah I will remember to give more depth to him later.

 

I also edited the second Chapter a little.

[Captain Antonius]

Nicely done edit on the 2nd chapter. Already with just that little bit added, I can relate to your character more. We know he's not really human anymore, but that little bit gives us perspective into who Sgt. Kosoros is and why he fights. Well done.

[Mr.(Space)Marine]

CHAPTER THREE

 

 

 

The Ork continued to batter its humungous choppa on Veteran Sergeant Korsoros’ combat knife, which he held up to deflect his opponent’s attacks. The sharp sound of metal on rusty metal rang through Kosoros’ ears repeatedly, and although his Mk VII helmet filtered the sound so it was not too unbearable, it was still very loud.

 

Squad Korsoros and the other battle-brothers of the Imperial Fists 5th Company struggled with the Orks, trying with all their might to gain the upper hand in the swirling chaos of close combat. Point blank bolter shots intermingled with choppa swipes and combat knife slashes. Every Imperial Fist was fighting their own battle, each one battling many Orks at a time. Korsoros himself had already ended the undeserving lives of two Orks before his encounter with this monstrous Nob leader, and had killed several more during his epic struggle for survival.

 

Orks obviously had no honour, thought Korsoros. They would not care if it was twenty to one, as long as they participated in the slaughter. Here he was grappling with a gargantuan Ork and the others tried to get him while he was not looking. Even so, none had managed to drag him down. Blood spilt from many wounds that had dented his previously glorious armour, and the crimson blood of the greenskins further made it look as if his armour was red, not yellow.

 

The Nob finally realised that swinging his choppa in the same spot every time was not going to work, so it began to use its big-bore pistol as a club as well. Getting attacked from all sides, Korsoros had to parry the flurry of attacks with quick swings of his combat knife. The Nob finally found an opening, and launched its choppa at Korsoros’ right arm. The choppa bludgeoned the Imperial Fist’s armour with the force of a titan, and his thick power-armoured plates cracked under the assault, letting the choppa hit Korsoros’ flesh.

 

Choppas are not very sharp, however, so instead of lopping the Space Marine’s arm right off, the rusty weapon dug in halfway and hit a vulnerable nerve. Korsoros’ arm went limp, and he dropped his combat knife onto the ground with a clang.

 

Falling onto his right knee, the Imperial Fist gritted his teeth in pain and looked up at the Nob when it was drawing its Choppa out of his flesh. The Nob stopped for a moment to savour its victory, but that moment was all Korsoros needed.

 

In typical Imperial Fist style, Korsoros ignored the immense pain that would have incapacitated any lesser man, and rose to his feet, roaring in righteous fury. The Nob was surprised by this and took a step backwards. The Veteran Sergeant hurled himself at the massive Ork with all his might, and knocked the greenskin clear off his feet, smashing the weapons from the Xenos’ hands. Both warriors rolled down the hill, grappling with each other and shouting at the top of their lungs. Korsoros dug in his feet to bring them both to a stop, and hammered his left fist into the Nob’s face repeatedly, shattering bones and crushing flesh into a bloody pulp.

 

The Nob had a resilient head—as all Orks do—but the devastating barrage of attacks that Korsoros unleashed was too much for the Ork, who eventually was unidentifiable under the mas of cracked bone, dark red blood and ragged pieces of green flesh.

 

The sound of battle began to get quieter. Veteran Sergeant Korsoros stood up—still in immense pain—and observed the battlefield. Most of the Orks were dead, but some still struggled with their Imperial Fist opponents. Only five Imperial Fists had fallen, each of them heroes of the Chapter that would have their names recorded in the vast Librarium of the Imperial Fists. Each of the fallen Astartes had mountains of dead Orks piled high around them, a testament to the fact that no Space Marine goes down easy. Such a waste...thought Korsoros, who knew each and every one well.

 

It was a long road to become a Space Marine, and although Korsoros could not remember what planet he was born on—or who his family were for that matter—he still could remember quite clearly the struggles of an Aspirant. He had braved all the challenges set for him by the Chaplains and the Master of Recruits, and had passed the psychological tests set by the Librarians. He had gone through the process of being turned into the physical masterpiece of a Space Marine, and had endured the hardships of being a Scout. He had braved fierce battles and campaigns as a Tactical Marine, before being raised to the position of Sergeant. He had been given the honour to be a Terminator in the First Company, but declined, as he had thought his presence in Squad Korsoros was more valuable than being a veteran of the First Company. He would never leave his squad for anything in the galaxy, and his men trusted him with their lives for it.

 

“Veteran Sergeant,” asked an Apothecary who approached Korsoros, “you are wounded.”

 

“Yes, brother Apothecary, my struggle with that Ork,” explained Korsoros, pointing at the dead monstrosity on the ground, “did not end well.”

 

“You may need a bionic replacement for that wound, Veteran Sergeant,” explained the Apothecary.

 

Korsoros groaned. He loathed the idea of having a bionic replacement, as he thought it was a sign of weakness to have to have a part of the body replaced with something that could not feel pain. But still, better alive than dead.

 

“Brother Sergeant, come, you must get that wound tended to,” said the Apothecary.

 

“Yes, Apothecary. But what of Captain Utrel? What of the orks inside the Fortress?” asked Korsoros.

 

“Captain Utrel is going to lead an assault to reclaim this side of the Fortress whilst the Imperial Guard holds the line further inside. Heavy support is being brought down to assist.” Korsoros looked up to see two Thunderhawks carrying Whirlwinds and Predator tanks making their way towards the landing sight.

 

“Very well, tend to my wounds,” said Korsoros whilst following the Apothecary, unable to hide his annoyance at being denied a spot in Captain Utrel’s reclamation force.

[Mr.(Space)Marine]

CHAPTER FOUR

 

Chief Commissar Harkan wiped his blood-stained hand on his long black trench coat, smearing the red stain off his skin onto the thick black leather. His trench coat was buttoned up, and he wore the signature Commissariat cap on his balding head. His ornate power sword hung at his side in its scabbard; it was a sword gifted to him as he arose to the rank of Chief Commissar, its handle modelled to look like the Imperial Aquila. Harkan’s old bolt pistol was also holstered on his belt, an antique from when he was first inducted into the Commissariat.

 

The building used to be a storage area, but had been converted into a makeshift command centre. Comms officers relayed orders through the multitude of Vox devices, and Colonel Brigannian and his officers discussed strategies to stem the tide of Orks. Chief Commissar Harkan had been selected to be a part of Brigannian’s command squad, but Harkan had been loath to do it.

 

The 74th Levane Infantry Regiment is notorious for their officer’s cowardice. Save for Colonel Brigannian himself and a few other individuals, all the men of the 74th were reluctant, cowardly swine. Harkan had enacted the Emperor’s justice many times already, just to keep the men from retreating. It didn’t help that a horde of angry greenskins was pouring through the fortress. The Orks had already taken over the first defences, and were rallying for more attacks.

 

The distant sound of battle could be heard from the stone grey building, the volleys of Lasgun fire and roar of artillery echoing throughout the room. Tables with maps and tactical data were everywhere, but the officers—including Harkan—were all stationed around the largest of the tables, that featured a map of the entire fortress and its surroundings. The officers continued to argue, agree, disagree, and exchange ideas of what strategies were to be tried next, occasionally relaying new orders to the Vox officers. Harkan did not say anything; he was a reserved and taciturn man that only spoke if he had something meaningful to say.

 

Harkan’s thoughts were interrupted by the shouting of one of the vox officers.

 

“Sir! Sir! Platoon 1A is retreating! Lieutenant Foivur has ordered a retreat! The Orks are cutting down our men!” Brigannian looked up to the Vox officer, perspiration on his face from the strenuous activity of commanding a regiment.

 

“What? Why is he retreating? I gave specific orders to HIM that he had to hold the line! He has to stay put! The fortress will be lost if he does not!” Brigannian’s annoyance and anger was clearly visible, his facial hair dripping with sweat.

 

“That insolent swine!” yelled Commissar Harkan, his face twisting into an angry expression. The rest of the officers were taken aback by Harkan’s sudden outburst, surprise on their faces. “This is the final straw! That cowardly pup will have the Emperor’s justice enacted upon him at this instant!”

 

Harkan turned on his heel and stormed out of the building, leaving the rest of the officers to continue their plotting. Lieutenant Foivur was the most cowardly man Harkan had ever met. He was reluctant, scared, stupid and downright insolent. How he ever became a Lieutenant was beyond Harkan.

 

Outside, the furious noise of battle was far louder. Lasgun fire could clearly be heard, and the immense roars of laughter from the greenskins could now be heard. The area behind the front line was bustling with activity—servitors and menials hurrying about enacting their master’s will, Guardsmen platoons moving to new positions, and Basilisk artillery pieces being set up in more defendable positions. The streets between the grey stone buildings were filled with members of the Regiment of all kinds.

 

People parted and moved out the way when they saw the furious Chief Commissar storming through the streets, and when he unholstered his bolt pistol everyone immediately understood his purpose. But they were not surprised, the 74th Levane had already had scores of men executed for their cowardice.

 

Sure enough, Lieutenant Foivur was ordering his men to retreat to a safer position after the most recent Ork assault. The men looked confused from the orders of Foivur, not knowing whether to trust him or go with their instinct.

 

Foivur was standing on a large piece of rubble that was peched above a small rise in the ground. The pavement around it was cracked, and dirt was showing through. The area was a small clearing in the buildings, probably once a town square. But that did not matter now that war had come to claim Fortress XIV.

 

Chief Commissar Harkan stormed up to where Foivur was standing, seemingly oblivious to the Guardsmen around him. Foivur had his back to Harkan, and obviously did not sense the Commissar coming.

 

Harkan grabbed the Lieutenant on the shoulder tightly, and spun him around to face him. The Lieutenant’s face went pale at the sight of an angry Harkan.

 

“What in the name of Terra are you doing!?” shouted Harkan in Foivur’s face.

 

“I...I...I...” murmured Foivur, his skinny face trembling in fear. Harkan had had enough.

 

“You are guilty of the substantial crime of cowardice! You have backed away in the face of your enemy, and the Emperor calls out for judgement to be enacted!” bellowed Harkan, his voice ringing in the ears of all the Guardsmen around him. Harkan pushed the Lieutenant away from him so he was on the edge of the piece of rubble. “Your punishment is death!”

 

The bark of the bolt pistol echoed once, hammering a bolt into the Lieutenant’s head, which exploded like a watermelon when the bolt burst.

 

“Until we can find another officer worthy of commanding this platoon, I shall be in charge,” decreed Harkan, glancing over to the street across from him where another mob of orks were approaching.

 

“At them, you dogs! No mercy!”

 

-----------------------------

 

Well thats the end of Part I. I will start Part II eventually, and that will go into more detail on the greater picture of the war, whilst still focusing on Veteran-Sergeant Korsoros. Chief Commisar Harkan, Colonel Brinnanigan and Captain Utrel will be back again, as well as some new characters.

 

Any comments, critisisms or suggestions are welcome.

[Captain Antonius]

I thought that your 4th chapter worked much better than the third. I think you should probably think about just changing the order of your posts. The second chapter left us hanging in mortal hand to hand combat. Chapter 4 resolved that and ended quietly, which would bring you easily to the Guardsmen sub-plot. Nicely done again. Can't wait for the next chapter.

[Mr.(Space)Marine]

Hmm, I'm actually surprised by the lack of responses. I thought I would have gotten at least 2, maybe three people commenting but oh well...I don't mind if you criticise my work as long as you provide tips with how I can improve, as that is my aim, improving.

 

So Antonius, do you think I should swap 3 and 4 around?

[Captain Antonius]

I would have thought that some others would have commented also, Mr. Space Marine. I hope that my comments have been helpful and don't sound too much like I'm trying to drive your story in some other way than what you would want.

 

I do think that your Chapter 4 should come after Chapter 2. Chapter 3 should come after Chapter 4. The reason I believe this is that I think that you needed to resolve the conflict with Sgt. Kosoros and the Ork mob before you went on to the Imperial Guard sub-plot. I think that it will let your story flow better and be a better read overall.

 

I do think that you are doing well with all your posts. Keep up the good work. Remember to keep all your new fluff in line with the Canon. I think that the rest of the diehard IF fans out there will appreciate it. I know I would. I'm looking forward to your next installment.

[Hubernator]

Had a long read and it's pretty good. There were parts in places that just seemed... too plain or out of place. I wouldn't be able to pick them out without reading the story again ^_^ Perhaps reading it through would help. Another bit of advice: while you read it through make sure it flows. In a few instances it, sorta, missed a bit. I think the biggest distance cross was when it flipped from IG1 to SM to IG2 to SM again, which is basically the general flow of the whole thing.

 

Don't get me wrong, it's a good story so far. More please B) :D

[Mr.(Space)Marine]

Thanks for your advice, Hubernator.

 

I hope that my comments have been helpful and don't sound too much like I'm trying to drive your story in some other way than what you would want.

 

No they're not, I have the way the story will go firmly in my head, but I am just trying to improve how I tell the story, thats all (with the help of everyone that comments, that is).

 

I do think that your Chapter 4 should come after Chapter 2. Chapter 3 should come after Chapter 4. The reason I believe this is that I think that you needed to resolve the conflict with Sgt. Kosoros and the Ork mob before you went on to the Imperial Guard sub-plot. I think that it will let your story flow better and be a better read overall.

 

Done and done.

 

Remember to keep all your new fluff in line with the Canon

 

I am trying to, and so far I haven't thought of anything I've done that is out of canon.

 

Had a long read and it's pretty good. There were parts in places that just seemed... too plain or out of place. I wouldn't be able to pick them out without reading the story again Perhaps reading it through would help. Another bit of advice: while you read it through make sure it flows. In a few instances it, sorta, missed a bit. I think the biggest distance cross was when it flipped from IG1 to SM to IG2 to SM again, which is basically the general flow of the whole thing.

 

I can understand the swap from the SM point of view to the IG point of view is a bit overwhelming or whatever to begin with, but personally I think having the Ork's point of view from the start makes the story start better, rather than going straight to the SMs in the pod. Not sure by which parts you mean are out of place, or too plain, but I'll have a read and I'll see if I can find 'em. Thanks for the advice.

[Pulse]

I liked the story so far matey. Although i thought to be a veteran sergeant a marine had to be in the first company at one point or he would stay a sergeant.

 

Loving Chief Commissar Harkan, reminds me a bit of the IG Commissar in Dawn of War. More chapters please! :D