The War on Satlaae

[Commander MindSight]

Hi, please post if you read the whole thing. I enjoyed writing this and hope you think it's as good as I do.

 

The War on Satlaae

 

A signal rushes trough space. It reaches something. That something responds. ++This is the Black Templers’ strike cruiser Emperor’s Devastation++ The signal races back to its origin. ++Oh, praise the Emperor! I’m sergeant Admas Rirhol of the 11th Satlaae company stationed in the Imperial fortress Chanthm’s Walls in sector B84. We are under attack by orks! They…++ Static. ++ …by the Emperor…++ Static. The signal is cut off. Silence. A new signal is born. ++Tell your men the Emperor watches over you, for the Space Marines came to your aid.++ Silence echoes through the void.

Marshal Activus Marandes looks down from the Emperor’s Devastation and sighs. Upon the green and blue planet of Satlaae he knows thousands of vile greenskins romp and holler. Xenos slaughtering servants of the Imperium just because they can. He knows he will have to fight them. He knows what failure means. He knows that orks will spread to the entire system if he doesn’t rid this tumor now. The cancerous green tide of violence drowning more of humanity under its cruel wake. The thought fills him with righteous anger. This is what he lives for, honor, duty and vengeance.

++Servitor, are the battle brothers ready?++ Marandes commands form his vox-caster.

++Yes, marshal++ Drones a voice form the other side.

 

‘Oi! Oi! Boss! Boss!’ screams a gretchin climbing up the side of a metal mountain.

‘Wot, ya bleeding grot?’ responds Grimstuf Morkskar, the Deathskulls Warboss.

‘Da beakies are ‘ere. Jus’ like yous said!’ yelps the gretchin fanatically pointing eastward trying not to displease his master. Grimstuf grabs a pair of tele-scopin’ glass eyes off the nearest nob, nearly strangling him. He sees the black raindrops of steel pour on his new forest. The warboss starts laughing.

‘ ’bout time, I woz getting’ bored wiv these ‘umies.’ He seizes a chained Guardsmen with his power klaw and squeezes. The top of the metal mountain is stained red over brown as the other prisoners begun their prayers again.

 

‘Cry Marines! And let loose the weapons of WAR!’ Marandes shouts to his warriors. They responded by chanting, ‘No Pity! No Remorse! No Fear!’ over bolter fire and screams of dying orks. The battle had begun. Marandes calls to his Chaplain.

‘Omnuix! Status of the front line!’ A voice comes from the vox-caster.

++Praise the Emperor! For everything is well, Marshal. Our steel rain has brought death to the unsuspecting orks!++ A hand braces Marandes’ shoulder armor. It is Omnuix in person.

‘Come brother, retribution awaits.’ Omnuix swings his crozius arcanum into both hands, ready for war. Marandes nods his head in agreement.

‘Sweep the field, battle brothers! Let there be fire, if we must! Sword brethren Asmos, Caligar, Leonal and 3rd squadron come with me!’ 10 tactical marines and 3 warriors carrying power swords come to the aid of their commander. Marshal Activus Marandes turns on all vox channels and roars ‘CHARGE!’ Every Black Templar could hear their commander’s voice, even if they had turned their vox-casters off. The Templars’ prideful chanting begun to fade as the power and chainsword wielders forge their way through tides of green skin and green blood.

 

Caligar lost count of how many xenos fell under his foot. All he truly knows is that the Emperor had guided them deep into enemy territory. The orks were getting denser. The Templar’s prideful march continues through till they are completely surrounded. The Deathskulls had made a circle of blue plates, large choppers and blazing eyes. But they did not close in. A hideous sound that only the shadows call laughter was heard beyond the circle of green skin. The green tide of flesh parted for the sound’s makers. Six huge orks clad in metal boxes of pistons and weapons, Mega-armored Nobs. The Templars know they’re going to have a tougher time on their hands. The first Nob wobbles forward, power klaw snapping, shootas whirling, smoke billowing, and ork roaring to show his large gold plated tusks. The Templars are unimpressed. They discuss amongst themselves of who should take the honor of slaying the alien. Asmos steps forward.

 

The first move is made. The massive armored fiend swings his power klaw to the marines crest. Asmos bounds left as the klaw’s blades dig into Satlaae dirt. The sword brother senses his opportunity. A two-handed slash drives to the orks exposed head. The ork’s instincts make him turn his eyes away. The sword slit the ork’s right cheek, having him breathing in his own blood. Out of rage and desperate attempt, the ork tries to pound his big shoota into the marine. But Asmos is faster in his power armor. He steps back as the improvised hammer strikes the ground. The ork lifts his shoota and pulls his klaw from the soil. The Nob readies himself for another attack, but that attack does not come. Asmos enclosed on the ork while it gathered its weapons. Power sword meets green skin and ork brain. The armored corpse’s fall causes a miniature earthquake. The Black Templars hymn their praises. The other orks look around stunned. How could such a big ork fall to such a puny human?

‘Com’ on, ya stooped Nobs! GET ‘EM!’ The five remaining Megas charge into the marines.

 

One nob grabs a tactical marine by the power klaw as he fires his shoota into the crowd. Killing marine and ork alike. Another rages towards Asmos, forcing him to topple back. Omnuix bashes his crozius arcanum on the ork’s metal back. The arcanum’s electrically field disrupts the armor suits wiring, causing it to explode. The remains plummet on Asmos. Marandes cringes at seeing his battle brothers die to such alien heresy. His only thought now is revenge. Marandes hears a rampaging ork before he sees it. He dodges the massive power klaw, turns, draws his sword and slices the nob’s hydraulic legs. Then stabs it in the back to make sure it’s dead before moving on. Marandes notices Omnuix. He is too late. The klaw tightens around Omnuix’s head. The former chaplain drops brutalized and decapitated. The killer notices Marandes. It charges, aiming the blood stained blades at his head. Marandes gives the ork a false sense of security as the killer latches on to the marshal’s helmet. The helmet shatters as Marandes drops down and drives his power sword upward trough the ork’s large jaw and throat. The killer suffocates on its own blood. The victorious Templar marches forward. But the march is short lived. Two mega-armored nobs try to out flank the space marine. The clanking of big feet and hiss of pistons gave them away before they can strike. Marandes draws his plasma pistol and flips his power sword. He swiftly lobotomizes one ork and flash melts the other.

A sudden silence fills Marshal Activus Marandes’ senses. He looks around. Smaller orks pin down Leonal as one drives a huge blade though the warrior’s neck. Others start pulling off pendants and medallions form fallen Templers as trophies. They start the arena ring of green skin again. Marandes realizes what the orks already knew. He is alone.

‘Tats it boyz! Leave the best for da best.’ Warboss Grimstuf Morkskar booms form his war truck. Grimstuf climbs and stumbles off the truck to look at his quarry. As soon as the ork warboss is close, Marandes swings his sword. The warboss parries with his power klaw. Grimstuf makes a slight hand movement. Smaller orks gather around trying to get a hold on Marandes’ limbs. Plasma fire and power sword go everywhere the Templar can wield them. But as soon as one ork falls, another five take its place. There’s just too many of them. Soon both weapons are taken from him and all limbs restrained.

‘Hur hur. Bit ov a fighta, ain’t cha? I’s like tat, even if ya ain’t proppa green.’ Marandes just gives a cold angry stare as the xeno grunts. The big ork just smiles.

‘GET ‘IM TO DA TRUKK!’ The orks holding Marandes follow their leader to the scrap heap on wheels. Once they arrive on the war truck’s cargo hold, the green skins search for rope that isn’t necessary for the vehicle to keep together and bind the mighty space marine with it. The truck amazingly rumbles to life. Strapped in a sarcophagus of tight ropes, Marshal Activus Marandes can do nothing but watch. And wait. And plan.

 

‘WAAAAAAGH!’ the massive horde of orks cried out at the sight of their master. Grimstuf responded with his own Waaagh! The truck came to a halt. All the bodies with feet jerk forward and drop down. Marandes’ armor clanking against dirty steel. Once every being had unloaded or fallen off, Marandes saw it. A Gargant!

The metal mountain looms overhead, crown touching the sky, mocking the clouds with its metal teeth and glowing red eye. Gargants were considered physical manifestations of the ork gods. A moving battle fortress stacked with as many weapons as could be crammed in suited the ork gods of brutality and loud shooting. Marandes knows his battle brothers won’t be able to destroy that monstrosity, even at full strength. The only weapon at his disposal strong enough is orbital bombardment. But in order to activate it, he needs to call the prime servitor on Emperor’s Devastation and verify absolute destruction is the Emperor’s will. But he remembers his vox was shattered along with his helmet. The only way is to contact his brethren and use their vox-casters. But on foot? He’d have to slice through thousands of orks.

‘Emperor give me strength.’ Marandes whispers out before an ork bonks him on the head.

 

Imprisoned guardsmen look on in joy and fear as the Black Templar joins them on top of the blood stained metal mountain. All imperial soldiers now chained by the wrists to the gargant’s permanent smile. The warboss looks on in smug pride.

‘Hur hur hur. See boyz, dos wot I say and ya git a fine reward. Likes these prize toyz.’ Grimstuf taps a metal tooth with his power klaw. Each tap feeling like an earthquake to the imprisoned. Each tap drawing closer to Marandes’ head. As soon as the ork is close, Marandes gives a desperate kick with his free legs. Grimstuf, surprised, stumbles backwards. His smaller ork minions push him up. The warboss’s smug smile increases. He turns away from his prisoners down to his horde.

‘Look at tis big ‘umie! He’s chained up proppa ands he knocks me! Even when he’s got no choppa or shoota, he’s still fightin’! All you lousy grots could learn a lesson form ‘im! Keep killin’ till yer killed! WAAAAAAGH!’

‘WAAAGH!’ his horde yells back. Grimstuf turns once again to face his enemy.

‘I’s like ya, so’s I’m gonna let ya go so we’s fight again annuver day.’ What was the xeno saying? Commanding a Black Templar, nay, a Space Marine to go away? After all that bloodshed, after all the matyrs, the xeno is just letting him run away. Was an entire tactical squad’s sacrifice worth nothing? Did not the sword brethren give up their lives to purge this menace? This xenos had tortured him long enough. Now it was asking him to retreat. Marandes wouldn’t allow it. The Imperium wouldn’t allow it. He will kill these xenos. Kill for honor of the Black Templers. Kill for duty of the Imperium of Mankind. Kill for vengeance of his fallen brothers. Revenge boils in his blood and in his mind. The Emperor had shown him the heart of the ork invasion, and he is going to tear it out.

‘Foolish ork,’ Marandes sneered, his voice deep cold, angry and hateful. Those words forever burned into every being who listened.

‘I am the Emperor’s wrath made manifest, and you have only served to bolster it. Your death I will make such you’ll wish the warp had devoured your soul far sooner.’ The Emperor had blessed one of his prayers, for the next millisecond, the inferno of hate had ripped his bonds off the metal mountain’s teeth. The Black Templar thrashed chains and their plates wildly around. Badly wounding any ork unlucky enough to get caught in his eyesight. Once that fury had satisfied him, he paused to face warboss Grimstuf Morkskar. Marandes gave out a war cry, as deep and as loud as any waaagh, but with a far harsher tone. Frozen by the black fury, Grimstuf only braces himself against the garagnt’s head rail for the coming charge. Marandes does charge, rampaging like a demon. Grimstuf steps sideways and pushes Marandes’ back, tossing him over the rail.

 

Marshal Activus Marandes is falling. He is tumbling blindly into and raging sea of green. As he looks up to the face of the metal mountain, he realizes his fighting company doesn’t know about the gargant. He realizes he was the only one given permission to use the bombardment cannon. He realizes the sacrifice of too many good men were in vain. He realizes his pride, honor and vengeance had blinded him. He realizes the ork gods are laughing at him.

 

Satlaae was once under the proud vigilance of the Imperial Guard. Now it is awash in the violent ocean of ork kind. Soon it will fall prey to the ruinous powers of Chaos. After that, the graceful Eldar will come and cleanse the planet. For Satlaae is one of many planets in the forty first millennium, and in the forty first millennium there is only war.

[Manfred vonKramstien]

Very interesting story. I enjoyed reading it from start to finish. The epic duel between the Meganobz and Marandes and his men was my favorite part. I look forward to more perhaps?

[Commander MindSight]

Glad you liked it!

 

I look forward to more perhaps?

Well sadly, Marandes is dead, no sequel for him. Thought about doing character profiles with homemade rules for Marandes and Grimstuf.

But if you want more violence, violence is easy.

I wanted to do a Black Library book about an entire chapter turning to chaos.

[antique_nova]

for me i didn't like it mate. it just didnt kick in, i just felt there were too many technical errors and the templar parts didn't fit, they didn't seem to be space marines at all, as no army would drop in unsupported, without support and so quickly.

thanks

antique_nova

[Commander MindSight]

Well, they weren't assigned to help the guard, they were just passing by when suddenly they get a distress signal. They were thinking 'Orks! This shall be simple' since the invasion was so recent, the forces will be small. At least that's what I think, not to mention it's any Space Marine code to help the Imperium as much a possible.

 

The story just follows the front line guys headed by the Marshall. Assume the other forces have been deployed somewhere else.

 

The whole story is about pride and anger blinding you to the point of death, so, does it matter anyway?

 

...and learn to type, too.

[antique_nova]

lol sorry i didn't check as i was in a hurry, just fixing it now, it was a very fast attempt at type writing ^^

[Castellan Michael]

-"Let there be fire, if we must! Sword brethren Asmos, Caligar, Leonal and 3rd squadron come with me!’ 10 tactical marines and 3 warriors carrying power swords come to the aid of their commander. Marshal Activus Marandes turns on all vox channels and roars ‘CHARGE!’"-

 

The Black Templar do not have rank structure like this...You have a quasi-smurf breakdown, going on. The IF are closer to that I would believe.

 

-"Upon the green and blue planet of Satlaae he knows thousands of vile greenskins romp and holler."-

 

and I believe the right word would be knew not "knows"...my wife is an English professor, she busts me all the time!

 

-"The Templars'prideful chanting begun to fade as the power and chainsword wielders forge their way through tides of green skin and green..."-

 

They are Knights not monks, and Templar is also plural and singular, kinda like moose. I know we need to get that through GW's head also. Forgive my, negative condemnations, all in all it is great work, just need to keep it up to speed with fluff and grammer. Especially if your going to ostracize someone else.

[antique_nova]

This is almost a year old. You do know that your not meant to necro post? Necro posting, means reviving dead topics.

thanks

antique_nova