Lord Insanity Posted May 2, 2009 Share Posted May 2, 2009 THE MAKING OF A SPACE MARINE CHAPTER 1 Thaddeus Tenares watched as the other gang members looted the crawl-truck of all its valuables. 13 years of age and a mere juve in a gang that dominated the Underhive, he wasn’t scared of anything or anyone. Nothing could faze Thaddeus anymore. He had personally murdered more people than he could count, being a frontline soldier in the eternal anarchy that dominated Illius’ Underhives, but nowhere near Big Papa, the leader of his gang, the White Knives. He had fought in ambushes, gang-busts, drug-runs, and many other things, and was getting closer to promotion with every day that passed. Sometimes the Enforcers came along, sometimes the Arbiters themselves, but that didn’t matter much to Thaddeus. All he really wanted was a rich, comfortable life as the leader of the White Knives, something that every other ganger aspired to. But he wasn’t about to get it. *** ‘Decapitation,’ the Sergeant said, raising his chainsword. ‘We cut off the head of these White Knives.’ The Thunderhawk flew through the vast cavern that made up the Underhive, ready to land at any moment, containing ten Space Marines, each a paragon of humanity, genetically perfect and enhanced to be a supreme soldier. Their bolters had already been blessed, as they had been given them on their promotion to full Marine, and now they were muttering the ancient incantations and prayers that awakened the war-spirits of the venerable machines. Soon they would strike at the head of this gang, eliminating it and putting it in the Underhive’s history. The Thunderhawk landed amidst a group of surprised gangers, the Marines within marching out and preparing to fire. *** Thaddeus thought that he was ready for anything: rival gangers, Enforcers, even the dreaded Arbiters themselves. But nothing could have prepared him for the Space Marines. They wore gold armour, with black shoulderpads, one in white armour and bearing the sign of a winged helix on his shoulderpads. They fired their bolters, literally blowing the gangers apart in bursts of blood and gore. Lexandrus, a young Hive noble who liked to slum it, managed to get within striking range of one, but the chainsword the Marine carried cut through him like a knife through warm butter, spraying his guts all over the place. Thaddeus readied his autogun, firing off a short burst at the softer armour, managing to visibly wound one. He then received a burst of bolter fire that he narrowly dodged, then kept firing at the Marine’s (admittedly few) weak points until he managed to knock it down. He got a thrown combat knife for his troubles, stabbing him through the chest, and as he fell down, he only saw his fellow gangers fighting and dying, the Marine in white armour marching up to him, until he lost consciousness and everything became black. Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/167521-the-making-of-a-space-marine/ Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lord Insanity Posted May 2, 2009 Author Share Posted May 2, 2009 CHAPTER 2 ‘I have found someone who may become an initiate,’ the Brother-Apothecary declared. ‘But he is gravely wounded, and will require medical attention.’ ‘His status?’ Sergeant Antheus asked. ‘He is currently on stimulants,’ the Apothecary said. ‘I will wake him up once we get to the Fortress-Monastery.’ ‘Good for him,’ Antheus muttered. ‘The White Knives are gone. They are lost to the pages of history, to be forgotten forever.’ ‘The criminal element can never be expunged,’ the Apothecary said. ‘Yet is it not a miracle that we were lifted up from this pathetic state to become the Emperor’s Angels of Death?’ ‘Indeed,’ Antheus said. ‘But we will see when we get to the Fortress-Monastery.’ Pain. That was all Thaddeus felt as he woke up. The next realisation was horror. He was strapped to a wall, automatic dispensers pumping strange liquids into his damaged frame, an open wound on the right side of his chest. He could literally see his heart beating. Shock and a feeling of nausea flooded through his senses, yet he could not faint, stimulants pouring into his body to prevent him losing consciousness. ‘What is your name?’ a deep voice demanded. ‘Thaddeus...Thaddeus Tenares...’ he said, trying to ignore the terrible pain by sheer effort of will. ‘Then Battle-Brother Thaddeus Tenares you shall become,’ the voice replied. ‘You are fit to bear the geneseed of Dorn. You shall become a Space Marine, an Angel of Death for the Emperor’s foes. But for now you shall stay awake, until your wounds are healed.’ Days passed, and the pain gradually lessened, the wound healing over rapidly. He learned that the voice was that of Apothecary Euphrases, and was hypno-entrained in correct High Gothic, learning to speak, read and write it in literally hours. But then the time came for him to be marched into a dark, cavernous room, where a hooded, hulking figure came before him. ‘Who are we?’ the figure asked. ‘We are the Knights of Dorn,’ Thaddeus replied in perfect High Gothic. ‘Good, you have passed the First Test,’ the hooded figure said. ‘You are ready to be implanted with the First to Fifth Gifts of Dorn.’ The hooded figure grabbed him, forcing him onto a dark chair, strapping him down. Then came the dispensers; six plas-steel pipes, filled with milky white fluid. They stabbed into him, and Thaddeus truly learned the meaning of pain. His chest was carved open again, no blood dripping as a result of the drugs now pouring through his system. Five organs were implanted into his chest, and as he collapsed into unconsciousness from the pain, he wondered what was happening... Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/167521-the-making-of-a-space-marine/#findComment-1974601 Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lord Insanity Posted May 3, 2009 Author Share Posted May 3, 2009 CHAPTER 3 Months (or maybe it was years) passed, and the pain in his chest steadily dwindled. Thaddeus was forced to submit to countless tests, drug dispensings, psychic probes, hypnomat sessions and psycho-indoctrination. Training sessions were particularly hard; the virtual realms where he trained grew steadily harder and harder, and he was rapidly forced to become adept with all ballistic and close-combat weapons. He was becoming more than human, and he knew it. He became inured to the constant tests and implantation sessions, and steadily memorised the Litanies of Hate and Chapter Creed. He was getting stronger and bulkier, but also more intelligent and mentally strong. He could read books in minutes now, and had memorised the whole of the Codex Astartes. He had been taught the Twelve Litanies of the Spiritus Machina, particularly the Litany of Going Forth to Battle, and several prayer-equations of the Adeptus Mechanicus, mostly the more warlike ones. Every day that passed increased his strength and will, making him more genetically perfect with each passing day. So it was, five years after his taking from the White Knives, he was implanted with the Progenoid Glands and became a Scout of the Knights of Dorn. The Chaplain poured the Oil of Libation over him, and then declared these words: ‘Initiate Tenares, of the Knights of Dorn,’ the Chaplain declared gravely. ‘You are fit to become a Battle-Brother of the Adeptus Astartes, of the Chapter of the Knights of Dorn. But first you must take the Trial of Skill, as a Scout of the Chapter. Do you take this responsibility upon yourself?’ ‘Yes,’ Thaddeus replied. ‘Come, join your Battle-Brothers,’ the Chaplain declared. ‘Let there be a feast.’ Thaddeus came to the Scouts’ banquet-table, bearing the sign of the Tenth Company, a golden starburst on a black field. He was quickly ushered to his place, and began to eat. There were hundreds of goblets of wine and huge piles of food, and as Thaddeus ate he could feel memories sifting through his skull, recalling great plains and the desire to run as swift as the wind. He could almost feel like he was chewing the cud and ripping through raw flesh, as a food-animal and a bellicose Grox. As the feast ended, Thaddeus soon met with the Sergeant and his Battle-Brothers – Magnites, strong and silent, Veneratus, courageous and bold, Lemartus, a cold sniper, and Aleron, particularly skilled with the chainsword. They were his Battle-Brothers. ‘Good,’ said Magnites. ‘Our true training will begin soon. This is our first mission. We are to go to Morthex Prime, with elements of the Sixth Company, and purge the Orks there. It shall begin soon.’ As Thaddeus walked away with his squad, a feeling of dread clamped like a vice around his heart. Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/167521-the-making-of-a-space-marine/#findComment-1975272 Share on other sites More sharing options...
MarkoftheRings Posted May 4, 2009 Share Posted May 4, 2009 CHAPTER 3As Thaddeus walked away with his squad, a feeling of dread clamped like a vice around his heart. And they shall know no fear? MotR Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/167521-the-making-of-a-space-marine/#findComment-1976259 Share on other sites More sharing options...
antique_nova Posted May 5, 2009 Share Posted May 5, 2009 the scout is a neophtye not an initiate just to point it out ^^, cos im a bt player ;). you need some astarters quotes or some sort of prayer in there, not jsut saying a prayer but THE prayer. thanks antique_nova Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/167521-the-making-of-a-space-marine/#findComment-1977691 Share on other sites More sharing options...
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