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A Fluff Story


Tech Priest Malachite

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This, and more, has been nagging at the back of my head for some time now and this part rolled out lastnight. Edited it out an saved it on my PC, but to me it's still a WIP, so any critique or anything you feel you need to say is welcome. Hope my English is ok

 

Enjoy (I hope)

 

+No name yet+

 

Slowly the piece of debris whirled in the cold depth of space, like a weird shaped satellite orbiting some distant moon. But this was the starboard wing section from a Marauder, the remains of the engines covered in a thin layer of ice from broken fuel en hydraulic lines.

 

Sergeant Takra gunned his jetpack and made a small coursechange to overshoot the debris field surrounding the wing section, and as one, his squad did the same. They where heading for the remains of the hull of the Marauder, 50 km further into the cold, deep void of space. They had been briefed to investigate the wreck, to check if it could be salvaged and put back into service. If so, the Techpriests aboard the Destoyer

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! ! !

 

I am enjoying this story immensely, Techpriest Malachite. My apologies for a lack of response to the last chapter, which was very good. However, this week's addition is even more promising of the excellent tale we're all in for.

 

I personally am curious as to what road the story will take... but I must say that I am convinced, from these first two chapters, that it will be excellent no matter what you decide to do. Already I hate Inquisitor Van Ooy and feel admiration for brother Kazra.

 

I hope that you are saving these, because I am sure they will be called on later for a compilation...

 

++EDIT++ Though I'm not sure who my favorite character is so far, Kazra or the Iron Father. :lol: I like all of your character development, though, and the little details - like the stories behind the terminator armor - are most excellent.

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No worries IF, I save all my work on my Hard drive and on paper.

 

Hammer; I do this when I feel like it, and at the moment it's allmost every day that I make up some bits and snippets, and usually compile that in the weekend or whenever I have the time. But I'm trying to post a bit every week.

 

So stay tuned for more, cause there is a lot more comming. More characters and you get a glimpse of Marine life aboard a Destroyer in the depths of space (well, only a 2 days drive from Armageddon at the moment but hey, how often do you travel in space?).

 

Time to go to work now, let's see what my mind will come up with today <shivers>

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Part 3......part of it came to me at work, the rest while I was watching a rerun of the Matrix, though most parts have been inspired by the movie "Virus".

 

Enjoy

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Part 3

 

Corridor after corridor, Sergeant Takra walked back to the aft flightdeck, the thoughts of his conversation with the Iron Father slowly ebbing away from his mind. Ignoring servitors and Tech-adepts, his armoured form marched through the dim lit corridors, his footsteps creating small echoes resounding of the plasteel bulkheads. The echoes slowly drifted away when he enterd the flight deck , to be replaced with the rattling sound of autoloaders and the hiss of pneumatics from servo haulers. The damp smell from the corridor was replaced with the smells of spilled oils and promethium vapors. The dark grey of the corridor replaced with the red paint of a passing munitions servitor.

 

Takra stood there for 10 minutes, taking in all those sights, sounds and smells, enhanced and filtered through his superior senses, and then, methodically, started to make his way across the flight deck. The giant black forms of the ships Thunderhawk Gunships came into view, and for a moment he stood there, looking at these devices of the mighty Machine God. Then passed a Sentinel load lifter, bright yellow, carrying a load of Hellstrike missiles.

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Actualy, I believe Broher Tyler did import them.  I know he brought over some of the stuff Chainsaw Schmalz and I wee writing.  It's in this forum, at the waaaaaayyyy bottom of the pile.  You might find your stories there.

Alrighty then. :lol: I was just thinking, my stories were spur-of-the-moment as well.

 

Honored Tech Priest Malachite, may the Omnissiah continue to bless your work.

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Thx Brother Makerveli, I missed that one myself. I'm sticking to Takra, I like it more.

 

And now, allready days late due to my provider......, let's say the Machine God isn't to happy with them.

 

 

++++Part 4++++++

 

Sergeant Takra handed his bolter and magazines over to a munitions servitor at the armoury, and looked how it was scanned, checked and put in a rack housing more bolters and a plethora of other weapons. A green rune came on on the chest of the servitor, and Takra made his way to the rest of his battlebrothers.

 

When he arrived at the room where his squad was he found them still sitting in their alcoves. Stripped of their armour, the white of their skin was almost blinding, the scarring around their bionics and implants slightly pinkish, the cranial sockets, as well as other entry points, connected to their alcove. Their armour was stacked in the racks besides them, Tech Adepts using Gabriel pattern micro layer scanners were scanning every square inch for possible damage caused by micrometeorites. The damaged sections where marked with a piece of chalk.

 

A simple piece of chalk. Sergeant Takra smiled to himself for a moment. The AM could build ships the size of planets, the most advanced armour that we use today and still they used chalk. Then again it was cheap and did the job, so why replace it? No point in wasting valuable resources to do research for something to replace something as simple as a piece of chalk.

 

He was still smiling when he removed his helmet, a procedure he normally loathed to do, and placed it into the rack. Giving up your armor meant giving up protection, something no sane Medusan would ever do. No protection would mean death by exposure to the elements. But here it was safe, and he sat down to strip off the rest of his armor and placing it into the rack. Across the room was a empty alcove. The room held 10 alcoves, 8 where filled by his men, 1 by him and 1 was empty. He looked at the empty one and decided not to think about it, but put his head back and rested it against the headrest. Closing his eyes, he felt a small sting as the cranial plug was connected to the alcove. In the darkness he could hear the priests connecting the rest of the plugs at various points of his body and slowly the darkness was replaced by the image of Techpriest Ramaal, the squads Tech supervisor. Sergeant Takra noted that the entire lower part of his face and his nose where encased in metal and that his vox caster had been replaced with a more recent model. Hopefully that meant the annoying clicks whenever Ramaal used the letter E would be gone forever.

 

 

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Ah, the life an Iron Hands Space Marine. It's not just a job...

Loved this latest entry, Malachite. We're really getting to know the serge well. Looking forward to your next instalment.

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Techpriest Malachite,

 

I'm getting tired of writing praise after praise for your story. It may start to sound a bit unsincere. :blink:

 

But there's nothing else to write - excellent conception of life on Medusa, well placed flashback, and great mental pictures! Again, I love the little details - the story of Isag, the chem-suits and chemical resistant paint, the empty alcove (assuming a fallen brother) - in every respect, I'm loving this story.

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Part 5 for all you impatient people outthere. Part 6 is in the making and will be released around monday moring (the European one, thank you).

 

It's a slight detour for a moment, but don't worry, you'll like it. At the moment it's twice as big as a regular part, so it is a bit of long read. And yes, there are spelling errors, sorry about that.

 

Part 5

 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Segmentum, a ship drops out of the warp. Slow and gracefully, it glides into the realspace of this region. Once, a very long time ago, she was standard class merchant vessel N-312, built at the New Rotterdam shipyards in the Pyracles system. That had been before the Gothic war, and hardly anything is known about her days before the war. During the Gothic war she was seized by the Navy and refitted to serve the Navy and her fleet as an escort carrier. Her tall starboard aquilla

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