A Gathering Place of Fears

[Ilkhan]

The following story was inspired by the Romance in 40k? thread. I'm not sure how well it turned out (some of the prose might get a bit too purplish, and I'm really uncertain about whether I should have used dialogue in earnest instead of conveying the characters' speech through narration), but I'm rather enamored with the ideas behind the story, so I'm going to post it up anyway.

 

I'd really appreciate comments and constructive criticism here.

 

That's enough introduction, here's the tale:

A Gathering Place of Fears

 

Selwyn stared pointedly at one of the rivets embedded in the bracing beam above his bed, attempting to focus on that little patch of rust developing where its paint had been chipped away, trying, and failing, to keep his mind from racing down the same track it had trod every night since he made Brother-Marine. Even sleep could provide no solace from his troubled thoughts, the strange twilight rest provided by the catalepsan node keeping him damnably alert throughout any attempted slumber.

 

It was Brother Hazen's absence that had brought on the turmoil. He and Hazen had been recruited together, and Selwyn was sure that without Hazen he would never have been able to endure his induction into the ranks of the Astartes. Every time he faltered, though, every time he thought he simply could not fight through the pain any longer, Hazen was there at his side with a helping hand and that ever present smile. Hazen was an eternal optimist, able to laugh off any trouble, and it was his unflappable confidence that had buoyed Selwyn up time after time when his own doubts and fears threatened to drag him under.

 

The implantation process had been hard on both of them, but even as barely controlled hormonal surges threatened to tear their very bodies apart they clung to each other for support, sweating together through nights of torture and emerging from the crucible of their initiation with an even deeper bond. For years they served as Scouts, fighting as one across unnumbered battlefields until they were at last deemed worthy to be made full Battle-Brothers of the august Dark Angels Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes.

 

Their long awaited triumph quickly turned sour. Clever Hazen had always been good to his equipment, quick and careful in field-stripping and maintenance, pious in his supplications to the machine spirits of his gear. That aptitude did not go unnoticed, and the moment Hazen was fully inducted into the Chapter's ranks he was seconded to the Armory and dispatched to Mars. For years he was kept sequestered there, being inducted into the mysteries of the machine, while Selwyn fought on alone with nihilistic determination, losing himself as best he could in battle, winning ultimately pointless victories and receiving equally meaningless honors.

 

That night, though, Selwyn's distress took on a new flavor. During the day he had received news of Hazen's return from Mars. With his initial indoctrination complete, Tech-Apprenta Hazen had been returned to his old strike cruiser to complete additional practical training under the ship's Techmarine. Even as he tried to lose himself in the contemplation of the ceiling, he knew Hazen to be somewhere on board the same vessel, perhaps staring sleeplessly up from his own bed, waiting to find out how Selwyn would react to his coming. Selwyn wanted desperately to go to his love's side, to throw off caution and rush into smiling Hazen's embrace, but his desire was tempered by fear. He had seldom interacted with Techmarines, but he had heard much of the fabled detachment of the Machine-Priests, and he feared what might have become of his beloved in their realm. Could the Cult Mechanicus have finally managed to steal that beautiful smile that Astartes initiation never quite managed to take from Hazen?

 

Ultimately Selwyn proved unable to smother the embers of hope that burned anew in his breast, and he knew that he could restrain himself no longer. With his scout training nearer to mind than that of his elder brothers, Selwyn stole out of the darkened barracks with ease, slipping into the half-lit corridors of a strike cruiser deep in ship's night. Guided by an admixture of instinct and half-remembered deck plans he worked his way down and back, pushing toward the belly of engineering, the realm of serf, servitor, and techmarine, where arcane rituals were enacted to ensure that the cruiser's heart kept beating and the myriad machine spirits within its metal skin prospered.

 

As Selwyn drew near the haven of the Techmarine and his ilk, he heard chanting interspersed with harsh blurts of binary, distant, but drawing nearer all the while, and a heady blend of sacred machine oil and incense assailed his nostrils. Fearing discovery, he ducked into a darkened door leading off of the hall and found himself in a long gallery of sleeping Dreadnoughts. Having no desire to trespass in the ancients' chambers, but equally unwilling to return to the hall from whence he came, he hastened along the line of sarcophagi, racing toward a pool of light at the far end of the hangar and its promise of another exit.

 

He didn't get far before light flooded forth from one of the Old Ones. Taken entirely by surprise, Selwyn stumbled to a halt and turned to face the entombed marine, blinking past the war machine's blinding searchlights to make out the form of the venerable Paraclete, his deep green armor nearly lost under a sea of sparkling battle honors and the cracking yellow parchment of a thousand purity seals. As he stared helplessly at the Dreadnought, paralyzed in awe and terror, his interred brother began to speak. The throbbing bass tones of the voice of millennia of experience shook him quite literally to the bone, and the impact of the elder's words drove him to his knees in shock.

 

Somehow Paraclete's ineffable wisdom extended to an intimate understanding of Selwyn and the purpose that brought him to the strike cruiser's depths. Selwyn found himself desperately searching the ancient marine's ornate sarcophagus for any symbology suggesting its occupant to be a Librarian as Paraclete laid his mind bare, but could find no such explanation.

 

Selwyn demanded answers, his voice gratefully free of the unseemly fear that crouched in his heart, and, with a bittersweet chuckle, Paraclete answered that he knew how to read the signs because he, too, had once known such love for a brother. The honored Dreadnought then harked back to his own youth, long ages past, when he had a body of flesh and was called Matthias. He explained how he had fallen into the orbit of a kind, noble, and beautiful marine by the name of D'Annunzio, and took comfort in him for many years, but the depth of his affection blinded him when his lover began to show signs of impiety, and when the corruption claimed him at the height of a campaign against the traitor, Matthias who became Paraclete was forced to do battle with D'Annunzio, who by that point was far too gone to be swayed from his rebellion.

 

As Paraclete explained it, the private war which ensued when the two met in combat waxed on for long hours, both of them fighting with the brutality born of wounded love, both displaying such terrible skill at arms that the struggle of the armies around them first slowed, then came to a complete halt as all the combatants turned to watch the paired warriors write an epic saga with their blades. Finally Matthias had a chance to deal a death-blow to the fallen D'Annunzio. By that time, though, his treacherous friend's helmet was long destroyed, and his eyes, still so kindly and so beautiful in spite of his newfound malice, looked up at his love's face begging mercy, and Matthias hesitated for one fatal second. Both brothers, both lovers fell that day, together even in the paroxysms of death.

 

With a long, drawn out sigh, the Dreadnought admitted to Selwyn that he would have been glad to suffer his final doom on that blood-soaked battlefield, rather than be resurrected as Paraclete, but explained that he had kept himself sane through the long centuries through faith that his Primarch and his Emperor must have pulled him back from the brink of death to serve some divinely appointed purpose. He shared his belief that Selwyn's coming during one of his brief periods of wakefulness must indicate that his mind had been preserved to allow him to pass on the wisdom born from his pain to young romantics like Selwyn in times like these, to remind them that attachment leads inevitably to sorrow.

 

Wise Paraclete knew of Hazen, too, having observed him that very day as the ship's Techmarine introduced him to the maintenance rituals required to attend to its Dreadnoughts, and he urged Selwyn to let his love go. The Old One predicted that Hazen would be unable to dedicate his life to the cold embrace of the machine as the Chapter demanded as long as Selwyn was at his side offering his own all too human love. Selwyn would have to learn to stop fighting fate and start acknowledging that his duty to the Dark Angels as a whole needs must come before his personal affection for any one of their number.

 

Mastered by his fears, conquered by his impending heartbreak, Selwyn was unable to stand in defiance of Paraclete's admonition, and he beat a hasty retreat to his barracks. And with tears streaming down his flesh-and-blood cheek from his remaining organic eye, Tech-Apprenta Hazen disengaged his mechadendrites from the Dreadnought Paraclete's vox circuitry, praying silently to the Lion, the Emperor, the Omnissiah, and Battle-Brother Selwyn to forgive him.ether even in the paroxysms of death.

 

With a long, drawn out sigh, the Dreadnought admitted to Selwyn that he would have been glad to suffer his final doom on that blood-soaked battlefield, rather than be resurrected as Paraclete, but explained that he had kept himself sane through the long centuries through faith that his Primarch and his Emperor must have pulled him back from the brink of death to serve some divinely appointed purpose. He shared his belief that Selwyn's coming during one of his brief periods of wakefulness must indicate that his mind had been preserved to allow him to pass on the wisdom born from his pain to young romantics like Selwyn in times like these, to remind them that attachment leads inevitably to sorrow.

 

Wise Paraclete knew of Hazen, too, having observed him that very day as the ship's Techmarine introduced him to the maintenance rituals required to attend to its Dreadnoughts, and he urged Selwyn to let his love go. The Old One predicted that Hazen would be unable to dedicate his life to the cold embrace of the machine as the Chapter demanded as long as Selwyn was at his side offering his own all too human love. Selwyn would have to learn to stop fighting fate and start acknowledging that his duty to the Dark Angels as a whole needs must come before his personal affection for any one of their number.

 

Mastered by his fears, conquered by his impending heartbreak, Selwyn was unable to stand in defiance of Paraclete's admonition, and he beat a hasty retreat to his barracks. And with tears streaming down his flesh-and-blood cheek from his remaining organic eye, Tech-Apprenta Hazen disengaged his mechadendrites from the Dreadnought Paraclete's vox circuitry, praying silently to the Lion, the Emperor, the Omnissiah, and Battle-Brother Selwyn to forgive him.

[Darkchild130]

Marines aren't insomniac, the catalepsan node allows them to stay awake when they need to, otherwise they sleep as normal.

 

And most full Astartes in fluff are described as sleeping on bedrolls or sleeping mats on the floor, so don't you think beds for scouts is a little too much?

 

As much as i find the concept of gay marines abhorrent (it would be Dark Angels, skirt wearing pansies) I like your writing style, though your marines are far too namby pampy to be embodiment of the Emperor's wrath (even the straight ones).

 

So to summarise, i like the style, though the language is too flowery and the thing about the catalepsan node.

I won't even begin to go down the road of why i think this is wrong, as i've covered it all in the other thread.

 

Darkchild

[Croakamancer]

Beds, in their own vessel? Why not pay for simple beds in their own vessel? A small comfort, but smaller cost. It'd be like not paying for seats in vehicles, just because you're capable of simply holding on to something just that tightly.

 

Hmm... I can't find a definitive source, so I'll have to ask, is the Dark Angels catalepsan node confirmed as active and working? Sleep as normal does not render aside the problems of emotional problems and general psychology anyway, does it?

 

And are those Astartes, out of interest, described as sleeping so when in the field? Just curious, as I know most SM fluff focuses upon the field.

 

As to the 'Spaze marinez cannot be gay', or show emotion thing, well, I too have said everything I need to in the other thread (could say more, but won't. ;)) Ilkhan, you know my views on this already, so I won't repeat them at length. Just in summery, again, nice, interesting job. (I'd also disagree about the prose, but I think neither me or Darkchild are reliable on that. :))

[Darkchild130]

because they dont need beds. (most) Space marines eschew everything outside of what they require to function, Dark Angels definately fall under this category.

 

If it is working then they can stay awake for weeks, if not they sleep like humans, it makes no difference to the fact that the Catalepsan node makes no difference to natural sleep. No it doesn't affect psychological problems but he specifically mentioned the catalepsan node as a reason for being unable to rest, which is wrong.

 

They don't sleep in the field much, if at all. that is entirely the point of the Catalepsan node.

 

I'm not going into the gay marine thing, already have.

 

and no, i write like crap so im not reliable to comment on prose :)

 

Darkchild

[Croakamancer]

Ah. To be fair to you, I didn't catch the node ref. :) Fair does. (Although without info on the DA, it could be wonky or malfunctioning a little I suppose. They're no longer Scouts, but still)

 

Still, we agree on... some things. :P In principle, at least. I was more referring to your direct style rather than skill, however. I wouldn't have pictured this as your cup of tea, stylistically, given the avoidance of combat, focus on personal drama, ect (leaving aside the subject matter)

 

And on the beds thing... well, this is just me arguing to make a point, but I like doing that. :P So...

 

1; Could be that the beds are harder and harsher than the floor. Not mentioned, but really fits the DA (and would account for the insomnia)

2; Bed can mean anything. I can see 'beds' for SMs just being raised sections of floor, one each, to keep the place tidy. ;)

 

Meh. I admit it's an interpretation matter though.

[Darkchild130]

My friend, I LOVE personal drama, i read all types of fiction.

 

I just like my Space Marines angry and Asexual (not eunuchs, i hate that theory too, i like them asexual via intense mental conditioning etc).

 

And thanks about the direct style comment, i take that as a compliment B)

I dont always write like that by the way, it's just how i want to portray my Flesh Eating maniacs.

 

Darkchild

[Ilkhan]

Codex: Dark Angels confirms their geneseed as remarkably pure and all their implants as functional. A successor could potentially have suffered from a mutation of the catalepsan node after separation (to the extent that DA successors ever separate from their progenitor), but I feel this description falls within the bounds of poetic license; the node is described at times as keeping the marine alert enough to negate any chance of him being surprised while sleeping; that level of awareness, if turned on a marine's personal concerns, might be enough to deny any escape from his thoughts.

 

I might should return to my original plan for that bit of the story, though, painting Selwyn as a severe insomniac only able to hang on due to the catalepsan node and alarmingly near the organ's theoretical limits.

 

I don't feel beds for marines are that outrageous, especially since Sons of Dorn gives IF aspirants cots, but what they're sleeping on has little real impact on the story. Any form of bedding would work. I could alter that detail without changing anything beyond that.

 

I used the Dark Angels for this story in homage to their literary background; the title "A Gathering Place of Fears" comes from a line in Lionel Johnson's poem "The Dark Angel," and I feel the story as a whole is much in the spirit of his work. I certainly don't feel that they're "skirt wearing pansies," though, or "far too namby pampy to be embodiment of the Emperor's wrath." The behavior of two marines says very little about the Chapter as a whole, and even if we say that this is par for the course, I don't feel that this sort of personal drama in non-combat situations should negatively impact their battlefield performance at all. You just happen to be seeing my marines at their weakest here.

[Darkchild130]

well at their weakest, my marines turn into frothing, blood thirsty maniacs, so you Dark Angels are skirt wearing pansies to me.

 

Its all about perspective.

 

And i would go for the imsomniac angle, less likely to annoy fluff nazis. the bed thing was just me nitpicking tbh, i've always viewed them as living spartan lives, beds seem like an extravegance but hey, it's your fluff.

 

Darkchild

[Leonaides]

Just as a curiosity - why did none of the chaplains or libraians pick up on these problems he was having? Or even teh apothecaries (who would have noted his sleeping problems and reported them to chaplains)? Whether he tells anyone about his problems or not - they will be picked up on and analysed to see if he's a weak link on the chapter.

 

Quite apart from a techmarine abusing the venerable spirit of a Dreadnought chassis, and the noble hero within...

[Ilkhan]

Just as a curiosity - why did none of the chaplains or libraians pick up on these problems he was having? Or even teh apothecaries (who would have noted his sleeping problems and reported them to chaplains)? Whether he tells anyone about his problems or not - they will be picked up on and analysed to see if he's a weak link on the chapter.

 

I'm uncertain about how closely marines are observed after they're past the scout stage. If he was still performing his duties satisfactorily I'm not sure if his superiors would have picked up on anything being amiss with his emotional state. That said, it is a very valid question... perhaps he was receiving aid/punishment of some sort but it was proving ineffective?

 

Quite apart from a techmarine abusing the venerable spirit of a Dreadnought chassis, and the noble hero within...

 

Again, the story of two individuals shouldn't be taken as indicative of any wider trends, nor should it be assumed that I support all the actions of my protagonists. I fully recognize that his violation of the Dreadnought was blasphemous in the sight of the Omnissiah and highly disrespectful to the marine actually interred in Paraclete, and Hazen recognizes it as well. If I were to write a sequel to this, both Selwyn and Hazen would be dealing with significant guilt.

[Biohazardier]

Hello! Just curious, what kind of love are you implying? Brotherly? Romance?

 

Also, this is rather good, if not a bit confusing. Good job! :(

[Ilkhan]

Hello! Just curious, what kind of love are you implying? Brotherly? Romance?

 

Also, this is rather good, if not a bit confusing. Good job! <_<

 

Well, I didn't want to be overly explicit about it, but I really meant both.

 

And thanks for the compliment! While I appreciate the fluff nitpicks since I really would like to try to keep my fanfic plausible within the constraints of the given setting, and it's even more important to be careful when one's treading on the sort of ground I'm covering here, it's good to hear that someone actually, well, liked it.

[Leonaides]

I'm uncertain about how closely marines are observed after they're past the scout stage. If he was still performing his duties satisfactorily I'm not sure if his superiors would have picked up on anything being amiss with his emotional state. That said, it is a very valid question... perhaps he was receiving aid/punishment of some sort but it was proving ineffective?

 

Marines are subject to constant supervision/observation for the entirity of their lives. Medical checks to adjust/update their chemical treatments, chaplains monitoring them every day, assuming none of their squad-mates notice them being a bit 'off'... Any of these might be enough to warant a more exhaustive check-up by a librarian especially from a chapter like the DA's who specialise in ferreting out secrets and gettign people to confess things.

 

I'll happily admit that I'm not in the pro-romance camp at all, but I do think marines experience emotion (waht else is hatred, exaltation, anger, faith, etc) but I dont see it as possible to keep a secret in a marine chapter, and when found out it would be stamped on as it makes the marine less than reliable, and leaves the entire chapter at unacceptable risk (will he push the button to launch the orbital bombardment that will kill his 'beloved' as well as the daemon prince who's about to destroy a whole world for example, or would he allow a thunderhawk full of traitors onto a chapter ship if they had captured him and offered to trade, for example. That kind of love is just too dangerous for a marine to be allowed to have and too hard to hide).

[Maladict]

This is rather good! The floweriness of the prose and the reported speech rather than dialogue actually works well for this kind of story, and gives it the right kind of mediaeval tragic romance vibe, sort of like Abelard and Heloise only with more power armour. The Lionel Johnson references are a nice touch, too. I'm in the "Marines as epic heroes" camp for the most part, and in the Greek and Roman epics this kind of thing happens all the time - Achilles losing it over Patroclus' death is only the beginning.

 

Hazen does not come off at all well in this one, I must say. Having concluded that his involvement with Selwyn is not compatible with his duty to his Chapter, he's then come up with this convoluted and blasphemous scheme rather than summon up the courage to confront Selwyn himself. Still, literature would be very boring if we only wrote about characters who behaved as they were supposed to ;)

[Biohazardier]

Hello! Just curious, what kind of love are you implying? Brotherly? Romance?

 

Also, this is rather good, if not a bit confusing. Good job! :D

 

Well, I didn't want to be overly explicit about it, but I really meant both.

 

And thanks for the compliment! While I appreciate the fluff nitpicks since I really would like to try to keep my fanfic plausible within the constraints of the given setting, and it's even more important to be careful when one's treading on the sort of ground I'm covering here, it's good to hear that someone actually, well, liked it.

 

Cheers mate!