The Eighth

[The Raku]

Warning, this may have gore and swearing , it might not, but im winging this off the top of my head... so... fleh, here i go...

Chapter one.

 

A sigh escaped the lips of Donnan Greyhams, as he leaned back on his chair peering from his dimly lit bunker across a wasteland in the darkeninng of the night sky.

His chair gave a creak as he adjusted his position slightly, resting his feet on a command console, even going as far to light a catachan cigar in his maw. Ha! if the commisar could see him now, he could almost hear the screaming in his head of the self riteous bastard!

"Guardsman, What in thrones name are you doing?! Why are you not at attention guarding the feilds? Your smoking? How about i save you the effort and put a fri'ggin bullet in your head now? Im sure a sniper could spot that cigar a mile away! Get up you lazy Ba-"

 

Yep, the self riteous biggot would scream the place down, playing the scene in his head caused him great satisfaction in knowing how much he would piss that haughty bastard off. Donnan could only grin as he took another drag of the low quality cigar, choking from his chuckle combined with the intake of cheap smoke. He couldnt help but wonder why he hadnt had a promotion. as far as anyone was concerned, he was a good little cog in the emperors war machine, its not like anyone saw him in his quiet time in the bunker anyway. Security sure was tight and to the minute on 354.6642.869 or more the unnoficial planet name, Asthera. Donnan couldn't help but wonder why. Its not like the hive city was important. In all honesty it seemed to mostly be gang warfare across the manufactorium houses. Putting it lightly, the place was as valuble as Kroot- in a crater.

 

The guardsman gave a yawn, longing for his bed in his allocated chambers, Fair enough he had to share the barracks with a bunch of incapable buggers who couldn't tell arse from tit, But its not like he was here for the false pretences the imperial guard posters had set across the hive city. Throne, he was here because he was less likely to get shot sitting in a bunker doing jack than in his civilian home. Most likely he would have been shot in a passing driveby with a civvie car with a black market lasgun totting nutjob by now. He could only grin at the thought as he left the cigar in his lazy trap, toking on the cheap thing as it burned gradually to a stump. His eyes leered out toward the darkness, peering for an enemy that would never come, His perception decreasing as his eyelids found themselves drooping. Bloody hell this was such a boring job....

 

The sound of a horn filled the chamber and the guardsman shook awake, Falling from his chair with a yelp of surprise, Smashing his head to the floor with a loud Bang.

"Throne! What the Fu-" Donnan Greyhams jerked to his feet, Standing at attention for the Commisar to walk in, He could only Grin to himself as the alarm rang out. Evidently his Holo-watch alarm had sounded, which he had programmed it to, It would set off at half an hour intervals, Just prior to patrolls coming past,or the Commisars Hourly check on the Bunkered watchpost. The bastard would think he was at attention the whole time, Ha! His Holo-watch should stop now, just a minute or two prior to the commisars entry. Donnan paused, glancing around, Why wasnt the alarm stopping? The half asleep guardsman checkedhis watch,It didnt seem to be making any noise, and the time was 04:32 Terran standard time. It dawned on the guardsman that the commisars entry was upon the hour, as was his alarm. It wasnt Donnans watch that was ringing, His eyes nervously shifted across to the console he had so conveinietly used as a foot rest several minutes before, snatching his lasgun from its place, slung over the back of the chair next to his via the strap. The console seemed to be blaring red, Letting off a proximity alarm as a cluster of red dots appeared on the auspex, Flashing vivvidly.

 

Donnan snatched at the Vocaliser next to the console, Punching buttons the spotlights glare would intensify, Illuminating the barren wasteland at the entry of the Hive-City, He would clear his throat before punching at a smaller console's button, switching on the vocal systems of the bunkers Speakers, Placing on an authorative voice he would warn clearly:

"You are impending unliscenced on Imperial terretory, Announce your buisness here, and Halt!"

 

The spotlights illuminated what had crawled into their proximity, a small stream of civilian vehicles. Trucks by the look of things. Most likely merchants of some sort from the neighboring towns, Half of them didn't speak Gothic anyway. Damnit. It would explain why they didn't stop at his words.

With a shaky hand, still recovering from the shock of his wakeup call he transmitted an automatic message to the barracks, They would arrive at the gates to barricade them and confirm the identities and purpose of the trucks on the horizon, coming ever closer. Not that they needed it, this happened a few times before. He would think about learning the local language here so he could communicate that way, But hell with it. they should be speaking gothic anyway!

He peered out at the vehicles, watching them as if on cue, a small squad of guardsmen paced to intercept the vehicles lazzilly with their las rifles clutched in a one handed grip. Checking his Binoculars Donnan could see they cared for their jobs as little as he, Not one of them seemed enthusiastic about being woke up at half four in the morning to do a routine check on a bloody passing merchant convoy!

 

Donan gave a second yawn, pausing from his view to wipe his eyes and grumble, Taking the microphone to his Vox-Unit and mumble across the airways, pressing the button instinctively.

"Asthera Command this is Bunker 004, Awaiting instruction on civi-"

Something was amiss. Donnan peered at the Vox unit, usually by now he would have received the quiet crackle of static, expected from an aging barely maintained device. And by now he would have had a reply. He could only pause, Looking around the dimly lit bunker, then at the silent Vox-peice in his hand. He threw it to the floor, Unphased by the reaction, putting his cigar to his mouth with a grumble.

"Throne Above, these bloody things are allways shorting out."

Donnan gave a sigh, picking up his binoculars and staring out to the wasteland once more now, The guardsmen outside stood in a shuffled formation, One holding his palm out in a stopping instruction to the convoy. They should be slowwing down by now. Something wasnt quite right, when he leered at the vehicles, They wernt slowing down.

 

A loud buzz emmitted from the vox next to the door, and a voice bellowed with authority:

"Donnan Greyhams, What in thrones name are you doing in there? Slacking? Ill put a bullet in your godforsaken head! Open this door now!"

Several thudding noises emmited from the door before Donnan Gave a sigh, It was just the bloody Commisar, He paced to the doorway when another yell rang out:

"Greyhams, If you dont open this door, I promise when I get to you, ill put a bullet in your head!"

A dull clang of a reinforced boot hitting the door echoed as the Commisar vented his frustration of Donnans slow reply, The guardsmans hand pressing the release mechanism on the door, Then the sharp burst of a bolt weapon being discharged. Evidently the sound of the commisar venting his frustrations, firing the bolt pistol he carried to emphasise effect. The bloody bastard,allways trying to scare him.

 

Donnan stood at attention as the door slid open, His right hand in a salute, his left pinned to his side,and his stature straight, Boots locked together. The sihlouette of the commisar loomed over him as he winced, the lights of the spotlamps playing beyond the doorway rendering him in an intimidating posture, Bolt pistol clutched in his hand, Sabre in the other. Donans eyes adjusted in time to see the figure slump ontop of him, Taking him by surprise he reached out and gripped at the commisars shoulders. Only to find that when the previously sihlouetted figure slumped into his grasp, The Sihlouette faded as the light of the bunker fell over the commisars face. Or, what would be his face, Had a large exit wound not replaced his features, dripping blood and brainmatter down his neatly creased Commisar Uniform.

 

Donnan could only gasp and stare wide eyed at the corpse in his grasp, trying to peice together what had happened as brain-matter dripped to the floor in unsettleing squelches, Adding to what he now saw was a pool of splattered gore.

"Oh :D! Oh :cuss! oh :cuss!"

He could only stare into the faceless corpse, The realisation of what had happened dawning. That had not been the commisars Bolt pistol that had discharged. With trembleing hands the bloodsplattered Donnan threw the commisar to the floor, Slamming the bunker door shut. Fearful of what was happening outside. Outside, The Merchant Vehicles! If this was a war-zone now the civilians wouldn't be safe! It took iron grit just to pace to the console and take up his binnoculars. Every one of his instincts were screaming at the guardsman to run, curl up somewhere and rock in the fetal position. In a way it was ironic, The very man who had inspired fear for him to stay in duty, had just inspired a new fear in death, making him want to flee. He grasped at the binoculars with shaky hands, raising them to his eyes to view the merchant vehicles. Ah, they seemed unharmed. Forreigners or not, they had a right to be protected, imperial loyalists after all. Donna blinked, Taking in the scene before him. Half of the tired guardsmen outside lay dead on the floor, Roughly a quarter of the unit were running for their lives, And the rest were on the floor screaming in agony, their lower halves either missing, or crushed under the treads of the heavy-weight merchant trucks.

 

He blinked, in complete Panick now, reaching for the vox, Praying to the emperor that it would work, He began stuttering into it, the Microphone peice trembleing with his shaky hand.

"Bunker 004, Guardsman G-Greyhams H-here. B-breach, Commisar d-dead. Under attack re-request aid n-now!"

An authorative voice responded on the vox as Donnan calmed slightly, Praise throne his vox unit was working!

 

"Bunker 004 This is the Eighth leigion, We will send Aid."

 

"Thankyou... ASTARTES?!"

He could only gasp and blink stupidly at the vox in his hand at the prospect of astartes arriving as the voice continued.

"Indeed, Astartes of the Eighth legion. We will send Aid."

A demonic chuckle rang out across the vox, Confusing the guardsman, Did all space marines sound this scary? The eighth leigion, The night lords were here to help him stop the threat however, thats all he neede-

 

"NIGHT LORDS?!"

The guardsman screamed down the vox, his voice quaking. They were surely a Myth, Space marines that had turned from the emperor? Impossible! But here they spoke, He could only quake from what other stories he had heard about the night lords, how they had a tendancy to "Play" with their prey. He couldnt help but shake uncontrollably now.

 

"You know of us Loyalist? Good, killing you will be more fun when you run squeeling like the infidel pig you are. Ofcourse,when i said i would send aid, I did not mean to your petty mortal forces, I meant i would send aid to mine..."

 

The vox cut out with a demonic chuckle on the voice's behalf before conveying static, indicating a closed link. Donan could only tremble more as he keyed in the code of his headquarter, hoping to report the message, and get re-enforcements, after watching the guardsmen outside getting mowwed down, and the threat of Night lords coming. He immediately regretted his decision. A blare of static assulted his ears, Pounding his eardrums as the Bunkers speakers operated as one, Bellowing the screams of hundreds of dying men women and children. Some with throaty gurgles as if drowning, some a peircing shreik, stiffled moans of the dying, they all semmed to blend into one horrific peircing noise, bellowing around the contents of the bunker. The guardsmans hands reached to his ears as he collapsed to the floor cradleing his shattered eardrums, The shreiking still seeming to echo in his head, Over and over the wailing of the dying, Blaring across the confines of the bunker from its speakers at an intangeble volume. He snatched at his lasrifle, and at the corpse of the Commisar Dragging them toward the corner of the bunker toward an escape hatch, Working at it franticly to rip it open as the sounds of gunfire began outside in a chittering mass, barely audiable over the shreiking din. The gunfire sounded close, Too close. His eyes widened as the bunkers reinforced door began to chime loudly with the ring of a powerfist crashing into it, with the shreik of Chainblade against metal. He ripped open the hatch and threw the body inside as a hole tore in the door, the Reinforced structure peirced by a midnight blue power fist. Sparks filled the bunker as the control system overloaded, the Chainfist sending sparks across the confines of the bunker as chunks of metal flew from the widening hole in the doorway.

His hand reached for the bolt pistol and he fired a shot into the chainfist protruding through the doorway, he was rewarded by a roar of pain as he dived into the hatch, slamming it shut behind him as he scrambled down a ladder into a dimly lit emergency tunnel. The darkness of the tunel wamost unwelcoming as the guardsman hiperventilated with the body of the dead commisar under him as he broke his fall, but the screaming broadcasted by his Vox unit in the bunker were stiffled now. There was enough silence for him to take rational thought and try not to panic. Only then did he feel a warm trickle down his neck, His ears were bleeding.

 

Upstairs the Blast-door was torn away and discarded, Two marines paced in, their armour was ornate, Intricate, Midnight Blue. Relics of a forgotten time, occupied by two Chaos space marines, Their Helms Decibel Nullifyers rendering the screaming silent as it played around them. The first turned to the second with the blank emotionless visage of his helm, eerie almost, The voice contradicted that drasticly, as they spoke over a private Vox Channel.

 

"Brother Textous, The prey runs, Haha! This is bloody sport at its finest. Lets continue shall we?"

"Hannock, Let the loyalist pig run, he'll run to where he thinks is safe, leading us to more of the loyalist pigs, And our goal."

The private channel filled with the laughter of the night Lord named Textous, before the channel was discarded, leaving the two night lords to casually pace toward the Hatch, admist the vox's continued screaming and the floor stained with blood. Textous Flexxed his Chainfist, aside from a chunk missing from the ceramite plating from the bolt shot it seemed perfectly fine, Good...

 

~"The hunt begins Hannock..."~

 

Your thoughts so far? Is this worth continueing? Gotta love those night lords.

 

Chapter Two

 

Several miles above Asthera's choked industrial atmousphere, a Midnight blue Behmoth Lingered amongst the stars, The Space marine frigate suspended against the planets gravity, Held in orbit and gradually turning lazilly with the planet. Sihlouetted by the stars the Frigate boated a modest array of weaponry. However the ship itself seemed to be wracked with a large prow-mounted boarding tube, and instead of torpedo Silo's, Little modification had adjusted the ship to launch drop-pods as a substitute. The Ship seemed to lie in eerie stasis, Unresponcive to the hails of the planet and the space stations it lingered, Waiting. The Midnight Lingered on, Waiting for opportunity.

On the command bridge the lights were down, Its first Salvo of pods had fired, releasing several squads on to the planet below.Their buisness was their own. They had instructions, and a leanience was allowed as long as the deed was done....

 

Like a predator lurking in silence, the ship didnt move a muscle, or even bother with any form of Vox communication. Its engines sat in inoperable silence, and its power core was de-activated, Triggered to spark back to life at the touch of a button. Koreus held that button, He sat in the command throne of his frigate, tapping his ceramite gauntlet against the arm of the throne, pondering quietly to himself.

 

"Servitor, Dectivate the Vox communication input."

 

He didnt bother explaining his reasons to the wretch as it lumbered over to the communications array with the whirring of derelict gears and pistons. The servitor had served the Night lords cause for decades, its flesh had long withered, leaving a tone of grey shrivveled skin, clinging to the exoskeleton of the servitor,granting a frail aura about it. Funny, how the servitor looked so weak, yet in the past Koreus had seen it lumbering Adimantium with its clawwed hands the size of a space marines arm.

Its look was misleading. Harmless, Senile. In reality it was far from. Funny how such a puny Loyalist-upon-a-time had inspired him by just being there, with its misleading Visage of Harmlessness. Only several devices remained active, letting off a power signiture just under the usual input, Undetectable by Auspex. The first device, was the backup generator, Logicly,that would allways be turned on. The second was a Cloaking device, created by the blessed Ademptus Mechanicus. He had raided their subsector several times just to get his hands on the technology at their disposal. Under Koreus's orders they had been successful, he was pleased to say.

The cloaking device was simple. It would divert power from the life support systems, and the usual unnescesary systems, and instead, using that power to hide the frigates power output, and simultainiously every living thing on the barge.

 

Right now around Fifty night lords sat in their chambers meditating upon order, putting themselves in stasis to lower their heart rates and reduce their own lifesigns, This would not only render them indetectable, But compensate for what littleair they had left, considering the life support had been disabled They would have hours of oxygen left, More than they needed...

The ship would be as silent as the grave...

~*~*~*~

 

"Commander, there is an unknown vessel of Astartes origin near the space station."

Sollomon groaned, rolling his eyes. If it wasnt a civilian transport, a merchant ship or a patrol, It was another bloody pirate raider.

"Numbers?" He sighed, scowling at the bearer of the news with a sneer.

"One, Frigate."

Solloman gave a sigh, looking from the view-port out to the space beyond, a scowl suddenly wiped the sneer from his face. Why would a vulnerable frigate be alone in space? Even patrols were usually cruisers for their own defence. But a single frigate? The astartes were getting cocky. Hmmph, with a sigh he announced across the chamber of the pace staion, staring out into the void with his back to his crew. He had enough experiece to know he didnt need to watch the loyal crew to know they would carry out his order.

"Hail them."

"Yes lord."

The servitor responded dryly in the usual mechanical hiss of static, Not uncommon among the Ademptus Mechanicum. He was almost glad the alliance with the mechanicum existed. By far the quality of the servitors exceeded anything the guard had, and he was glad of it, if not a little fond of the lapdog as it continued with order.

 

"This is the station Asthera's Vanguard. Let yourself be known."

The command had no sooner left the vocaliser of the servitor as it echoed across the bridge of the bridge of The Midnight, The disabled Vis-Vox bore no reply. Seconds dwindled by, with no acknowledgement. Sollomon tured to his crew, peering at the black vox-screen. No signal, as if it didnt exist. With a frown of suspicion he turned to his crew, peering around unnerved.

"Commence Long range auspex, Transmit once more."

"This is the station Asthera's Vanguard. Let yourself be known."

No reply. In moments the chime of a console indicated the scan was complete, and Solloman gave a sombre nod to the servitor positioned at the console, the gesture clear as he waited for an update.

"Astartes frigate, Unknown class, Modified from the Doctrine specification."

"Strange, Continue." Modified? This news was most unusual, allthough it was to his knowledge that millenia of repairs and modifications could change a ship, and that some Astartes did not follow the doctrines set by the Imperium,some went as far as to disregard them completely.

"Previous scan dicatates it as once a Nova-Class Frigate."

"Life signs? Power output? Condition?"

The station-Lord frowned slightly at this news. It was getting stranger by the minute.

"No life signs, Power is down The core is offline, Moderate battle damage to the starboard prow, light damage to the habitation decks. Engine scan shows full function, However offline. Life support completely Shattered. Several hull breaches indicate no oxygen on the upper decks."

Little did they know they were receiving Fake transmissions, along with some true readings, from a fully functioning ships Cloaking Emitter...

 

"All of this battle damage. Any life-signs?"

The servitor whirred as it returned its gaze to the Data slate in the console, Peering back up to Sollomon with an eyeless Gaze.

"None."

The news took a second to sink in as he peered out of the window at the Midnight black cruiser orbiting around Asthera. He witnessed the ship, floating eerilly close to Asthera, Astartes, of all ships. His frown developed into a full on scowl as he pondered this.

"Geller feild?"

"Offline."

He gave a sigh, pondering, runninng a hand through his short cropped black goatee with his Borean leather glove, Matching with his black neatly pressed uniform.

"Scan again, In depth. I want the name of that cruiser." Moments seem to pass as the servitor worked in the eerie silence, whirring quietly as its fingers turned dials and input on buttons. Then a click as its eyeless gaze peered at the data-slate.

"Previous Data confirmed. No error. The ship is the Thrones Grace of The fire hawks Chapter."

"The fire Hawks? I thought they were a myth to scare little children of the perils of the warp."

"Myths Have a basis, Lord." The servitor added to a nod of acknowledgement to Sollomon as he continued to ponder, Peicing the puzzle. "I see." He paused quietly, frowning in silence as he continued to ponder about the 'Ghost Ship' In his midst, Unaware of the half-Company of Night lords in stasis upon its decks.

 

"If the geller feilds are down, and the hull contains breaches, Evidently the warp has claimed its victims, It would seem even Astartes can be vitimised. No life signs confirms that. I stare right now on a Ghost ship. A relic, of a time lost, Especially if it is of the Fire hawks, I am sure some would pay highly for this Vessel, considering its origin and the information it has. Im sure if we handed it over to our allies of the Mechanicum they would be most pleased to research it." Sollomon grinned to himself at the fact, and at the money he could possibly derive from the frigate before him above Asthera. Little did the fool know The Midnight sat before him, Under a Veil of False transmissions. Secretly sending subtle changes to the data they received. "Send in a pair of Maintenance frigates. Enable their Magna-clamps and bring it into docking bay Six. They are to Anchor the Frigate in dock before closing the Air lock. I want as little people to know about the true nature of this ship as possible. I wont risk it getting into someone else's Hands, Im staring at a right little treasure here."

Soloman smirked even as he gave the order Maintenance frigates were deploying from the womb of the Space station with the breif hiss of their engine thrusters. The frigates paralellel to one another in a tidy formation, warrilly approaching the astartes vessel.

 

"ETA, Three minutes, Six seconds."

 

~*~*~

[Taranis]

Sounds good to me. I have taken an interest in the Night Lords since reading forgeworld Gramm.

This is also great so far.

[The Raku]

Sounds good to me. I have taken an interest in the Night Lords since reading forgeworld Gramm.

This is also great so far.

 

Yay, id highly reccommend soul hunter & blood reaver by aaron dembski-bowden. they were my inspiration. jesus, those books rock.

 

And for every new section to my story, ill add a different colour. Make it easy to keep track on updates.

 

& btw, criticism is welcome ^^ will be updating story regularly.

[The Raku]

Chapter three

 

The wheels of the Civilian transport ground to a halt with the crack of ribs, the sickeing crunch of bone from under the trucks wheels as the cultist stepped from the transport, desceding to a knee as the rear shutter slid open. A trio of night lords stepped from the rear of the vehicle, hopping to the floor from the back of the vehicle, the mamothic weight of ceramite crunching in the dry dirt with a thud, scattering a thin layer of dust. The power armoured warriors similarly armoured in pre-heressy armour, The first with a plasma gun of intricate desisgn, the barrel tipped with the maw of a screaming demoic hound, hissing quietly from its aging power core. The second held a khornate chainaxe unsheathed eagerly, and the third was armed with a heavy bolter a small chain-dagger lashed to his thigh,with a holstered pistol.

 

The third warrior turned to the cultist, His helm relaying targeting information to his sences with a demonic subtle hiss. His helm seemed to peer at the shaven headed man with his sombre faceplate,walking with ease despite the heavy bolter slung over his back along with a large ammo feed. Upon reaching the cultist now at his feet, his helm seemed to exhale a burst of steam as he spoke, his voice a low growl through his vocaliser.

 

"Slave, Your name?"

The cultist peered up at the warrior as the other two night lords paced casually nearby in their hulking ceramite, causing the cultist to tremble from intimidation as he mumbled;

"Kerathin, Sir."

The plasma gun weilding marine seemed to make a heavy grinding burst of noise, repeating every so often from the vocaliser in his helm. Kerathin realised the marine seemed to be chuckleing at him, he kept his head bowwed respectfully. As the marine exhaled another burst of steam from his helm, speaking in a low gothic tone;

"Well Kerathin, Do you know my name?"

The marine placed his hand to his hip,cocking his head at the cultist as another jet of steam issued from his tusked helm, Meanwhile the plasma gun weilding marine continued his grinding chuckle, Inspecting his plasma Gun.

"I know you dont know my name. I ordered you to kill the Humans, Tell me, why are some of them still breathing?"

His tusked helm turned in the distance of the trucks facing direction, peering at several guardsmen running off into the distance.

"I tried lord, I am sorry."

"Needless to say, you failed. And now we must spend ammunition to remedy that."

He tugged his bolt pistol from its holster and leered at the sihlouettes in the distance, pulling the pistol level with his eye and snapping off a single shot, watching one of the figures fall to the floor, Life signs extinguished from his targetting matrix's vision. No sooner had he done that a flash of plasma flung across the air in a blue shimmering bolt, enveloping one of the guardsman with a splatter of azure light, His body disolved before it had even hit the floor.

The marine kept his pistol at his eye, peering at the final man running shreiking in terror.

 

"You have compramised our mission Kerathin. And in doing so you have compramised your life."

The marine spent a second round through the back of the sprinting mans head,sending the final guardsman to fall to the floor in a crumpled heap.

"That single bolt round, was of more value to me, than your life."

The tusked helm marine turned to the cultist with a glare of red visor slits, Growling loudly as he lowered himself to the slaves level on one knee. The grille in the marines helmet continued making distorted growling tones as he spoke to the quivering man.

"I feel it fit Kerathin, To tell you my title."

The cold touch of a ceramite gauntlet gripped the cultists chin, forcing his head up to peer into the helm of the night lord, By now the cultist was quivering, his eyes darting around in fear, as if looking for an escape. None came as he felt the touch of a bolt pistol under his jaw.

"My title is Mallor the Merciless, quite aptly named. It is a pleasure to have killed you in the name of the night haunter."

 

The plasma gun weilding marine chuckled once more,with a hint of insanity as the Chainaxe weilder looked to the scene before him with a casual sigh. The crack of a bolt discharge seemed to meld with the sound of a skull splitting as Mallor turned to the marines, His chestguard splattered with gore.

 

"Theres one for your skull throne, Euren."

Euron merely grunted in reply,pacing toward the corpse and decapitating its head with his chainaxe in a messy blow, blood splattering at his crimson armour in torrents as he gave a satisfied grunt, ripping what was left of the head from the decapitated body,peering at it quietly in his gauntlet as the third marine spoke up as he chuckled, clearly amused.

"I love your sence of humour Mallor. I think i wet myself at it was a pleasure to have killed you."

He continued his chuckleing as Euren held the head up to his spiked helm with a cold sigh, examining it in his gauntlet before he waved his chainaxe across the face, muttering a incantation.

"Oh yes Berren, Similar to the time you piddled yourself on armageddon? I highly doubt that was orc blood Inside your armour. Did you see a black templar?"

Berren gave a derranged snort and removed his helm, staring Mallor in the face as he spat at his feet, The breif chanting from Euren in the background as his glare Challenged the Havoc.

"My armour had a coolant leak in the legguard reigion. Evidently your serfs cant repair armour to save their lives."

"Is that why you kill them so often?"

Mallor's tusked helm turned to stare at Berrens scarred features as he scowled at him, In reply Mallor merely cocked his head and exhaled another gout of steam with a sigh and a hiss of Bionics. Euren's chanting had stopped as Warpfire burned in his visor, simultainious with the fire now in his gauntlet, Cooking the decapitated head in a writhing mass of red flame. He watched the flesh dissolve from the skull in a gloopy mess of crimson, dripping to the floor before seeming to crawl back toward his armour. The Champion of Khorne carried on absent mindedly watching the skull burn in his gauntlet as it Blackened, With a crunch he closed his fist, crushing the bone and throwing the dust into the wind. "Another trophy for the true God." He mumbled depressingly, watching the ash fade with a hiss into the warp. The Gods would be appeased momentarrilly before he had to start again. By now the fleshy mass had crawled halfway up his leg as the two argued.

 

"I dont kill them. I never have. Im respectful of anothers property Unlike Euren."

Berren scowled at the Champion as he finished his ritual, eyeing the crimson as it continued to crawl up to his chestguard and into his mouth grille amongst his tri-horned helm. The Khornate sorceror turned to Mallor with a slow 'Hmm' Evidently he had been found out.

"Well Mallor. I do kill your servants. What else is there to do on a poxxy frigate such as the midnight? i would rather not murder my bretherin to appease Khorne. I will sate his hunger on my lowers. If you have a problem with that, By all means, Take it up with me."

His words were cool and collected, Unusual for a champion of khorne as his Visor leveled with Mallor. A slurping noise Began to emit from Eurens helm,evidently he was feasting on the crimson mass that had melted from the cultists flesh, that he had willed to crawl up his bloodstained armour and into his mouth with a foul sorcery.

 

"Thats a matter for another time, For now Berren, Euren we are to scare a city. Im sure brother Sardious would care to do the honours."

 

At his words the transport seemed to rock at the mention of its name, Banging noises emmited from the rear of the vehicle before a bestial Roar filled the night air...

 

~What did the Night lords Have in store for Asthera?~

 

[maddai666]

good so far and i must say i love the guards man in the begining...... keep it up hope there's more soon

[The Raku]

Hologlobes flickered with a red aura in the maintenence tunnels, Bathing their length in the crimson glow of the lighting, causing the tunnel to have an eerie glow as the hum of power cables snaked across the walls. The silence was unnerving, only broken by the sudden crunch as a corpse in a commisar uniform pounded into the floor with a squealchy crack. The body was swiftly followed by the repetative hurried clunking of Donnan's boots as he descended the ladder into the tunnels, breathing heavily. The visage of the guardsman was impeccably shabby, caked in blood as his ears continued to seep from the blast of sonic noice from the vox that had been the agonised screaming the night lords had broadcasted all over Asthera's channels.

 

"Oh Throne..."

 

Donnan looked around the linear tunnels, hiperventilating ashe viewed the corpse of the commisar at his feet. he could only blink stupidly at the body. Minutes ago he was sat in the bunker on watch, smoking one of his beloved cigars. Now he dragged a dead commisar through the oil infested tunnels of the mechanicum, doubleing as an escape route. He wouldnt have beleived this if they had told him beforehand what would happen if he joined the guard. His face was stained with soot from the descent into the hatch, his hands and face smeared in his and the commisars blood. he looked around panicly wondering how long that hatch would buy him from the space marines.

 

He gave a snort at the body,bursting into hysterical laughter as he smirked, reassuring himself he would be alright in his panic, eying the body at his feet with an almost tearful snicker. "I betch'a didnt see that coming your haughty bastard." He could only snort as he took a pouch of Bolt pistol ammo from his former commisars side, Biting down the urge to laugh in such a screwed up situation. before he knew it he couldnt help himself as he started impersinating the commisar as he looted his corpse.

 

"Guardsman, if i see you wasting ammo again ill run you through with my sabre! if you run out of ammo, loot the dead. if they run out of ammo, loot the enemies dead, if they do too, use your bayonet, if that breaks... Your :cussed!"

Donnan added the last two words, taking the piss out of the faceless corpse, finding it hard to laugh and hiperventilate in panic at the same time. He could only smirk as he unlatched the bodies power-rapier, fixxing the sheath and blade to his hip, Continueing to take the mickey out of the dead commisar, almost paying the sobby git back for all the years of screaming Donnan had suffered on his behalf.

 

"Know how to use this thing? Though not you poxxy sod. I bet it was just for decoration."

 

Donnan conntinued to chuckle hystericly as he heard the sound of a powerfist clanging against the Hatch. He swiftly patted the side of the corpse with a hysteric giggle and a minor outburst of ; "Stand and fight in the face of the enemy soldier" Ha, bloody commisar. "That sure helped you didnt it? Ill learn from this. For throne am i going to stand anywhere near those night lord bastards.. Toodles ya' dead biggot!"

 

With his lasgun new boltpistol and power sabre the panicked guardsman bolted for his life down the service tunnels, cursing himself for smoking so much.On the bright side the service tunnels hatch was guards mansized, the Chaosspace marines would have to cut their way through with the chainfist he had seen them use on the doorway. How long would that take them? Hell would he hang around and find out.. he continued running still taking the mickey out of what the dead commisar would say at his panicked action. "Guardsman, stand and fight or ill put a bullet in your head." Ironic, either way in most situations with a commisar a guardsman was up to his neck in kroot :tu: anyway. It was bad enough they had an enemy to fight, but no, their leaders had to threaten them with more threats of being shot at....FROM THEM!

The imperium really did need a kick up the backside...

Donnan kept running with a gasp of air, pausing to slap the alarm button at the console on the side of the wall. he could report the threat but that would require hanging around, Hell is he staying anywhere near here.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Several hundred metres above Texous was already thumbing the rune insidehis gauntlet to activate the chainfist with a grinding whirr, Lowering the large power weapon in a lining up motion before plunging his fist into the hatch with the wail of tortured metal. The hatch already began to buckle as he brought the fist back and punched at the hatch once more, grinning sadisticly, It would take about half a minute to bludgeon his way inside at this rate...

[maddai666]

short but sweet...... still loving Donnan hope he gets to use the sword

keep up the good work Raku cant wait for more

[AngelOfDeathXIII]

I've just read the first chapter but class is about to start so I'll read the rest after practice tonight.

 

Awesome uptil now. I do felt the Night Lord shouldn't have clarified that he was sending reinforcements to his men... That way it would have been way eerier.

[The Raku]

Chapter Four

 

The midnight drifted across the empty reaches of atmouspheric space in silence, the closest thing the Nova class frigate had to any motioning life, was its servitors bustling up and down its confined reaches. It lay dormant, the epitome of a 41st century trojan horse, even its air supply began dwindleing as the darkened corridors aboard the Midnight remained black. The only awareness of their enemy the marines had was the occasional warning chime of an auspex sensor, picking up the occassional sweep of its gargantuan hull. And each time, without fail the cloaking device would respond in kind, Blurting out readings to the stations data slates in responce to its scans.

 

~Commencing Scan~

+ Imperialis Atartes +

+ Nova Class / Unknown +

+ The Thrones Grace +

+ Fire Hawks chapter +

+ Power core : Offline +

+ Engines : Offline +

+ Geller Feild : Overloaded, Short circuit +

~Scanning~

+ Life Support : Offline +

+Weapon Systems : No output+

~Scanning...~

+Backup Generator : Unstable+

+Life signs...+

~Scanning in progress...~

~Scanning in progress...~

+ Life signs : None Existant +

 

~Scanning report : Ademptus Astartes Space Hulk~

 

With time the marine in the command throne, Koreus waited in suspended animation, His body relaxed as he meditated, His breathing had slowwed to an undetectable level, His hearts beating as little as twice a minute. He would smile if his body would allow it at the glee and irony of the situation as the ship shuddered under impact, a resounding bang clattering along the hull, Shaking the very ship to the core of its being. The imperials Magna clamps had engaged. No doubt the frigates would be slowly manuvering them back into the space station. Only time would tell....

 

~*~*~*~

 

A howl erupted through the darkness as the transport shook once more, Dents appearing across its side as whatever was inside roared and colided with the walls.

"You should let him out now."

"Berren, You do it, I want to see you piss yourself again."

Mallor chuckled as a vent of superheated steam billowed from his tusked helm, in a loud hissing snort. The marine found it hard to stay upright, almost bent double laughing at Berren, His laughter wheezing, Steam billowing from his helm in a small cloud in time with his wheezing chuckle causing a small fog to converge upon him.

"Mallor, are you scared?"

"No, I send my lackey for the best entertainment. It is the chaos way."

"I never thought about it that way, But I am not your 'Lackey' Dip:cuss."

"What did you call me wretch? How about i give you a reason to piss yourse-"

 

"Ill do it." Euren muttered quietly in a depressed manner. The khorne bezerker paced to the back of the truck as Mallor and Berren bickered loudly in the background, Hoisting the rear shutter up with the whirring of geared armour, Sending the shutter upwards with the clatter of metal.

"I was wondering what was in here making so much noise."

The Khornate champion stared into the dark recess of the large vehicle as a bellowing roar emmited from the inside of the transport, Shaking the very ground he stood upon. A single red visor loomed out from the sea of darkness in a horizontal glowing strip, staring back at him, the sound of claws screeching against the inside of the vehicle.

 

"Hello Skanson. Care for a bout of slaughter tonight? I understand you've been locked up for quite some time."

A roar replied with the intensity of pure rage, once again shaking the ground he stood upon.

"Skanson, Dont tell me madness has claimed your tongue."

Another roar replied, with bellowed animalistic whining accompanied by screeching as metal claws found purchase on the walls in the darkness once more.

"So we have lost you To madness Skanson" The beserker sighed darkly, Hanging his head in depression. "Shame really." Meanwhile the two continued their bickering, Berren now pulling his plasma pistol to his grip, poiting it threateningly at Mallor.

"I swear, Ive turned traitor once, Shut your godamn trap."

"Do it, or will you piss yourself this time too? Watch out, you might get urine on your plasma gun."

The Chaos marine had moved as Euren spoke to Skanson, from his bent double position to all out on one knee propping himself up in the dirt as he laughed.

"Mallor." Berren muttered. "Are you lieing down as a proposition? Brother, i dont swing that way." Berren gave a coy smirk under his helm, His plasmagun held in a tight grip at Mallor.

 

"Skanson?" Another animalistic bellow answered his call, before grinding to a halt with a resounding metalic chuckle from the darkness, the whirring of gears combined with the clatter of pistons, the sound with a demonic undertone from the Vox, The substitute for a chuckle. "You thought i mad, Astartes? The winds of chaos do not grant me the release, sadly. In honesty brother, i am ashamed you fell for it. Would I, Skanson the Slaughterer descend into madness? Your gullable nature offends me Euren."

"Yes, i did beleive you. That was a rather mean trick."

"Shoving me i the catacombs for just short of a century surrounded by my brothers making animal noises, and preaching to the chaos gods in a blabber of demonic isnt? You wouldnt last five minutes in the Catacombs Euren. All ive heard is my brothers madness. It is little wonder why so many of my mechanical kin fall so easilly. Apparently madess is infectious. As is laughter. Maybe the two are interlinked. I would certainly - GOD DAMNIT MARINE, WE ARE ON TERRA. TEEERRAAAA!!!!! SLAY THE IMPERIAL CURS, THIS DAY WE BREAK FROM THE BONDS OF THE DECEITFUL EMPEROR BASTARD!"

The dreadnought continued as if he hadnt just screamed nonsence in the marines face. Evidently he was loosing his Lucidity, and his grip, nevertheless he continued with an embarrised click of his power core, his substitute for a cough.

 

"-Beleive this is so. We are to breach the imperial palace?"

"No. Millenia have passed. You are on asthera. An imperial world. We brought you here so you can give us entry."

"To the imperial Palace?"

"No, a hive world. Again, we are not on Terra."

"AH! So we're breaking into the hive world to create a distraction, in order to divert forces so our bretherin can breach the imperial palace?"

"Skanson, There is no imperial palace. The seige has been won."

Euren grasped a chain and unshackled it from the wall of the vehicle, pacing to another.

"I knew we would win."

The dreadnought gave a booming laugh, the sound of his vox filling the night air.

"We lost."

"You deceive me Champion?"

"I have no reason to lie, I do not so freely worship the plotweaver, Ergo, i can be blunt, as my Chainaxe is the only sharp thing i have. Khorn does not deceive. We boldly present ourselves on the battlefeild, as we are unmatched in our slaughter, I do not lie when Garranteous speaks for me." The champion stroked the weapon fondly, Giving a quiet hiss as its chainblades reeled at his touch, almost asif the weapon had a mind of its own, hoping to cut him as much as any foe he had. The bezerker withdrew his gauntlet from the Axe, continueing in a 'Matter of factly' sort of way.

"The war wages on, however."

"Indeed. You have unshackled my arm, I shall do the rest."

Skansons powerclaw thrummed to life, flickering across solid panels of obsidan armour trimmed with silver, with a half hearted slash, his claw flicked slightly, Hacking through the chains with ease, As the hulking machine whirred into movement the transport shook, and the floor quaked as the Iron behemoth stepped out of the transport. Its single Horizotal Visor peering upwards at the hive city gates,before it began a timely plod towards the wall, Humming quietly to himself.

 

Euren growled at the two bickering, Thumbing a rune on his chainaxe and pacing forward. "It begins." He jogged after the dreadnought in order to keep up with it large strides. This Gave Euren time to admire the hulking machine before him, in all its Magificence. One of the few traitor dreadnoughts which was kept with care, from a time when entombment was a way to preserve heroes, Not pennetence for the Marines who had acheived treachery so foul, that even death could not halt their masters wish for pain on their behalf. Skansons form was Ballenced, Artful, His sarcophegus Detailed in golden Ceramite. The Face of Nostramon Hound leering from the dreadnoughts helm sneered in silver with Long Burnished teeth, Closely one could see pistons behind the iron jaws in the center of his armour. The canine face snarled visciously -Skansons face, as its jaws flexxed open and closed in time with its Voxational speech. Its single eye a visor slit horizontally across its face, the ornate silver and obsidan detail covering the dreadnought. Skanson had The machines armour re-cased and modified to suit his taste, In his life the Chaplain was famed for bringing a small pack of Nostramon hounds with him to battle, letting the dogs prance in the shadows with their sleek black coats, Tearing at foe in silence, as The canine breed was famed for lacking sufficient Vocal cords, and its stealthy predatory approach to hunting in darkness.

 

His power claws were modest sized paws, Ending in Large power talons longer than a mans arms, And across his back he carried the dreadnought equivalent of a Cyclone missile launcher, Preloaded with hunter-Killer Missiles. The dreadnought turned to Euren with a sigh. "We number four brother. Do we walk to our deaths?"

Euren looked up with a smirk. "You are dead." "As am I. The second i became a marine i lost my life to the service of the great cause." Euren sighed loudly as the dreadnought came to a halt.

 

"Should you ring the doorbell,or shall I?"

"You, as thats why your here. Put those power claws to good use."

 

~*~*~*~

[The Raku]

A writers Pause-Break.

No, im not halting the story. This is just a pause of storytelling to ask for criticism and say a few things.

Im aware some of the lore may be incorrect, or entirely thought up, such as the old chaplain-dreds Hounds. But, i like to play with my imagination of how i can interpret the 40k universe, and pass it on in the form of storytelling.

Two, Some of the events may be inspired by authors. But they are purely Inspired, Nothing more. Ergo, for copyright reasons if i have said something which is a quotation, a similar name or event which may have previously happened in a book somewhere. For this reason, to my knowledge, i am avoiding similar plots to authors of the black library should something seem suspiciously similar, i assure you it iss coincidence. i have two reasons for this : One, copyright is a bitch, id like to avoid it please-thanks. And two, im a very funny person if my material is even similar to that of another author, the plainly : it will irritate me considering i like being unique in my style, even if i am somewhat influenced by authors such as Bowden, who, quite plainly just rock.

 

Three - Now that we have cleared that up, I have a base-line for a major plot which i am writing to. allthough this is a simple majorplot, which allows flexibility and smaller plots to form within that plot. As half the reason i write this story is for YOU GUYS ( ^^ ) Keep up the criticism, if something seems "OMG:cuss-ish" notify me please. Criticism is welcome in this post. However-

 

- I am going to inform : I dont mind writing about something you want to see in this story. For example, maddai666 wants to see Donnan use the sword, For his/her benefit, ill incorporate that into the story. I wont say anything more about it, surprises are fun. If you would like to see something happen in the story, Ill incorporate it just for you!, Under one condition. Id like comments / criticism in the posts and ANY requests for plots or characters doing certain things will be taken into consideration under the condition that they are sent to me in a personal message. This is just so if you ask for say "A nuke hitting Astera" it will be said in a PM, meaning if i choose to let it happen, none of the readers will know about it. No-one likes spoilers!

 

Finally, should a request be made and it is incorporated, I will give mention of the request, and the person who asked for it in a special shout out at the bottom of the post! Ill consider every single request, But nothing too outlandish!

 

Hope your enjoying the story guys, I like the fact my work is appreciated! and i LOVE you guys for the support!

[maddai666]

hey Raku

thanks for the mention in your last post ( i'm a guy by the way ;) ) still loving the story and now we have DREADNOUGHT's yes !!! just one thing ......

its the hunter killer missiles why not just have it as a missile launcher....as for you thinking up your own lore it's great to see someone's imagination at work just because it may not work in the game doesn't mean it can't work here ... there that's my two pennies worth for now keep up the good work

[Taranis]

I like the story still and i'm looking forward to more. I generally don't comment much as i'm almost always using my phone. I like the way you'r writing and have only positive "feedback".:-)

[The Raku]

Brilliant, Just might be a tad delayed. Only just sat down to take a break in all honesty. sorry about the week of Blank. XD Done two critical exams on my course, i got TWO credits on both of them! =D Not to mention preparing for a job interview. it went ok. Id say i'm 50/50 of getting it. will keep an eye on this thread! Just having some well deserved relaxation. ive done a three day course, after having to cram it all in three days, going for an interview on my lunch break... Muahaha.

[The Raku]

"Guardsman! Dont freely barge into my office when I am studying case-reports!

 

The Commander peered at Donnan searchingly as he panted in the doorway, previously slammed open by the panting man.

"Speak, What is it?!"

"The.... Chaos space.. Traitors... breaking in, powerfist Bunker, maintenance tunnels..No time."

"Guardsman, Lie to me once more and i will slit your tongue."

"No... Truth!"

Dannon wheezed in the doorway as the commander stood up from his desk, Poking at an intercom button.

"Double the patrols, we may have insurgents."

"No.. Space marines!"

Dannon continued his panting, propping himself against the doorway for support, correcting the commander.

"Space marines? Space marines are loyal to the Imperium of Man."

"Traitors."

The blank look gave way to a furrowing brow as the commander peered at Donnan, Pressing the button once more.

"Send out the sentinals. Bring out our entire forces to a city-wide patrol. Now."

The commander looked to Donnan, sighing loudly. "If this is a trick, i will have you excecuted."

"No... i am... Serious."

The Commander pressed the intercom vox-Link once more.

"Alert the Mechanicum. Send the armoured divisions to accompany the Patrols."

Donnan panted, Saluting.

"Shall I.... Run to the barracks, wake them...Up..?"

"Go for it."

Donnan turned once more, sprinting from the commanders presence, So short was his stay, the commander questioned why the guardsman was covered in blood.

 

Abruptly his face fell. Donnan wasn't lieing...

~*~*~*~

 

The three marines stood back as the dreadnought stood at the undefended gates. Evidently the drop-pods had worked. Half a company crawled within the bunkers, having neutralised them as the once-chaplain stared at the wall, peering in silence with the thrum of his power-core humming quietly.

 

"This is the gate of Terra, No?"

"Dont say that Skanson, Berren will piss himself with fear." Mallor chimed in with a wry smile under his helm as they communicated via Vox.

"Mallor, Focus on the task at hand. We number Four."

"Blood for the blood god." Euren mumbled, watching the dreadnought, Thrumming his poweraxe lazzilly on and off with Impatience, Knowing that commenting to the Dreadnought on his thinking time would only cause Skanson to complain loudly, Delaying them further.

"The doors are Sealed well my brothers. They will not grant us entry."

"You jest?" Mallor grumbled, Peering at the fearsome arnament the dreadnought boasted, from his power claws, to his missile launcher.

"Hardly." The Dreadnought grunted, turning with the sound of pistons grinding to life in sync with his gears, Pacing away from the door.

"Skanson!" He continued pacing away toward the truck His canine face peering toward the horizon as now all three marines peered at him questioningly, or shouted for reason as to why he left after the pacing Behemoth.

"Skanson, seriously, we need you here! What would you acheive walking away?"

The Dreadnought didnt reply, the whirring of his gears creating a grunting sound, as if he couldnt be bothered to answer their calls after him.

"Skanson!"

"...What?" The Ceramite canine mawwed behemoth began turning, Or More, hopping on one leg as the other remains stationary, Pivoting with a grinding screech. The marines felt unease as warning runes flashed across their visors, indicating Skanson was targeting all three of them with his missiles.

"Why do you leave?!"

The warning runes faded as his targeting systems fell from them, The dreadnought peering up to the sky for a second before back at the gate, Taking in the entire scene.

"I justify myself by the likely priority that the Gates cannot be breached. An auspex, detects Five Metres of a Cronite-Adimantium compound. A targeting system of mine confirms my scan. I stand by my predicament. The anti armour missiles have a three Metre penetration rate, with effectiveness. The gate cannot be breached."

The three marines seemed to groan at the noise, Euren covered his face, slapping his ceramite gauntlet over his helms visor. "Eugh... Imperials."

Mallor grumbled quetly about "Ruddy Gates." As Berren sighed lightly, Cocking his head and peering at the seemingly impenerable thing.

All three of their Visors lit up with warning runes of close proximity projectiles as a screech filled the air, Before they had time to look up at The direction of their source, Eight tremors impacted in unison, Causing the earth to tremble beneath their armoured feet. As chunks of Rockcrete showered their armour in small chunks. They peered up at the dreadnought, Engulfed in a cloud of grey smoke. Their helms moved from him to the smoky trails leading to the gates, Only to discover the layers of rockcrete fastening them together in a hinged manner had disappered. Skansons voice loomed over the vox with a growl As the behemoth paced forward.

 

"The gates are unbreachable by any projectile. Their fastenings, Not so much. These Terran dogs surely dont know how to defend a palace... Well, Terran Cats, Dogs are far too holy to be compared to such... Fools."

The dreadnought finished his rambleing, Peering up at the gate, The sound of tank Tracks came from within, Along with the yells of commisars and the roars of men.

Mallor groaned quietly at the sound, the prospect of falling down to a leman russ shell, or a volley of lasgunfire was not only embarressing, but unnapealing.

Berren remained at ease, Slinging his plasma gun into his grip with a slightly mad chuckle at the prospect of killing. Euren was by far the most anxious, Whirring his chainblade in his hand, Even drawwing a Dagger into his other gautlet, the length of a mans forearm. He began a twitch, as if a dog straining at a leash as skanson paced forward.

 

"Skanson, Blow a hole... I am eager..." The bezerker looked pleadingly to the dreadnought, eager for combat as Skanson dismissed him with the wave of a single Power talon. "No need." The dreadnought Halted for a second pausing, as the marines wondered why his combat targeters didnt turn on.

"Explain yourself, Why are you not breaching further." The dreadnought replied in a low monotone voice. "I am thinking." Mallor scowled at the Dreadnought, as berren chimed up. "Of a strategy to kill all of these on the other side?" The dreadnought paused thoughfully as Euren remained tense. "No." The bezerker snapped suddenly at Skanson eagerly. "Of how we will rend their treacherous lives?" "No" Skanson stated bluntly, Resuming to brood quietly with the hissing of pistons as Mallow Rumbled with a hiss of Agressive steam from his Helm, the soud not unlike that of Skanson. "Then of what do you think Dreadnnought!?" Skanson raised a power Talon to his Canine face as his Metal jaws Chewwed on it with a screech of metal on metal. "I, Marine, am thinking of a suitable pun to use when we enter."

"WHAT?!" two of the three marines screamed in unison, as Euren remained silent, scowling and twitching even more agitated than ever.

"You complete and utter Foo-"

"Ive got one." His helm ceased its grinding chewwing as the sound of multiple tanks and half a company of guardsmen rallying before combat roared, expecting them to breach.

The dreadnought's Paw pushed out at the gate, Allowing it to shift slightly, The lack of support causing it to budge. He pushed more insistantly with the sound of his power core screaming at the force being exerted, The din of the guardsmen and tanks roaring louder now, Pausing as the gate moved strangely. With a final Heave, His Plasma power-pack roaring as superheated steam shot from the exhaust canisters of the behemoth, Causing the metal to glow a cherry red before he stopped.

 

The guardsmans legion paused, the silence apart from the screeching of the power core of the dreadnought irking them, along with the sudden rumbles of the gate made them unsure of what to expect, Many of them staring up at the large gate before it moved once more, the leverage enough to topple it above them. Their silence soon turned to screams at the five metre thick Gargantuan gates toppled on hundreds of men, and a third of the armoured division. The gates immennse size, bulk, and weight crunched down upon them with several exploding tanks, and hundreds of men instantly getting crushed to a pulp.

 

Skanson paused at the mass carnage, Peering into the city over the deformed Collapsed Gate. He would point a chaos runed power claw forwards and roar:

 

"FOR THE EMPEROR!"

 

"..."

 

"..."

 

"..."

 

"..."

 

Three Space marine faces, and those guardsmen that had ran away in time from the tumbleing gate Paused in the chaos, To peer at the Dreadnought, All thinking the same thing at the Chaos worshipping Behemoth:

 

"What?"

 

The dreadnought Bellowed in laughter at the clear blasphemy Holding his power Taloned Paws upwards to the sky as he yelled:

 

"IM JOKING! SCREW YOUR TRAITOROUS BASTARD OF AN EMPEROR, BUT I MADE YOU...."PAWS!" FOR THOUGHT!"

 

Skansons maniac cackle filled the air as Mallor stared him down. "That was... Disgraceful." He noted bluntly as the Former chaplain continued laughing in mad wheezing roars and clanks of blasphemous wheezes.

 

"Dont belittle me marine, I AM PUN-TOUCHABLE!"

The four ran inside the city as the illucid dreadnought continued, Firing another Volley of Missiles into the remaining tanks, Leaving them as burned out hulks in his wake as their charge as las-fire struck his hull in pittiful shots.

 

"You could say I am the master of all cold calling salemen! Im brilliant at getting my foot in the door!"

"Or even, That the gate was a feat of engineering! Its the perfect Imperial guard killer! Its got to be my faverate defence of all time, Being used against them and all."

The dreadnought continued as they charged, Berrens voice screaming across the private channel.

 

"SHUT UP SKANSON! YOU HAVE FAR TO BAD A SENCE OF HUMOUR!"

 

A Grinding dejected reply sounded as the Vox channel opened up once more.

 

"But you could say I do look rather fetching with long nails, etleast. Maybe i should get them painted"

The dreadnought flexxed his power claws as he charged, chuckleing harder than ever with the sound of his footfalls adding to the din, His power claw slashing at a guardsman dumb enough to charge him with a melta-bomb, the unactivated explosive device was quikly scooped up by Berren as he ran forward, ignnoring the guardsmans screams.

 

"Yes, they are quite fetching in red."

 

"SHUT UP!"

 

"Or that ... i know how to make one hell of an entrance, Ground poundingly so."

 

"Skanson, i never did like your sence of humour, Its as Bad as Berrens."

 

 

 

 

The Latest installment (20/5/12) I was in a random mood, and his puns may be bad, But you spend a century locked up with crazy dreadnoughts, I bet you'd want to have a little fun too! This post goes out to all the cheesy chaos dreadnoughts out there! What do you think of Skansons cheesy sence of humour? Comments please!

[maddai666]

Raku the puns were really bad :pinch: , but i liked the entrance of the dreadnought "for the emperor" :lol: just maybe too much destruction with the gates falling on the guardsmen but thats just me..... keep up the good work

[The Raku]

Raku the puns were really bad :P , but i liked the entrance of the dreadnought "for the emperor" :o just maybe too much destruction with the gates falling on the guardsmen but thats just me..... keep up the good work

 

Skansons punns were meant to be bad. XD i got bored enough to try to contradict the usual dreadnought boring behavoiur, and tried to replace it with something to make people facepalm. Lmao Hooorah!