Black Templar Short Story-- Everything Remains

[Hotspur]

Spurred by my fellow Black Templar Nyustukyi, I decided to try and come up with a little piece of my own. Please C&C!

 

“Thus, has it ever been.”

 

The words were spoken flatly, without feeling, and they hung in the air like a thick fog.

 

The sky was lit by myriad streaks of flame and black smoke, too many to count.

 

“This truly is a glorious sight; is it not Champion? This will undoubtedly be a day of sure victory, will it not?”

 

“Thus, has it ever been,” came the cold reply, “It is the way of the tide. The way of the Templar. Soon our brothers will be crushing their foe under foot and hand, sundering with bolter and blade. But no victory comes without cost. Foolish are the foes of the beloved Emperor; you have much to learn neophyte.”

 

The neophyte sensed his time conversing with the Champion had come to an end, “I take my leave, my liege.” A curt nod was his only reply.

 

As I look over the battlefield, I see much, but it is what I have seen for near to a century. The enemy is of no import because the outcome is always the same. The black tide consumes all. My brethren who flood the battlefield are each an army unto himself, worth hundreds of the remaining, loyal Guardsmen who so valiantly, yet so futilely, attempt to assist us in the purging of this world. We do not need them, yet their presence is testament to the Emperor’s will. In the end, all that matters is that the Imperium of Man remains victorious.

 

“Champion, the squads of Reclusiarch Bythell and Marshall Caddock have embarked. Your steed awaits you, my liege.”

 

Sword Brother Eynon. He has long fought by my side. Side by side we have spilled the blood of countless enemies of man. He only calls me his liege because he must. Eldar, tyranid, necron, orks, traitors; all have been brought the judgment bar by our hands. Eynon is not only one of the finest warriors of the Imperium; he is my closest friend. It was long thought that Eynon would be chosen of the great Emperor of man to be His champion when the time came. Such skill in battle. Such an example of righteousness and zeal. A true Templar. But the dreams never came to Eynon.

 

As I embark onto the crusader pattern Landraider, my ceramite boots clang onto the boarding ramp and bring me out of my contemplation. This world is a backwater, serving no purpose to the Imperium except to pay homage to the Emperor in tithes and offerings. Our crusade was initially on course to end a violent expansion of the Tau into this sector. Abruptly, their advance was halted, and the vestiges of their expansion erased from three planets.

 

We deciphered from coded emergency relays that, in their consternation, a number of regiments of the Imperial Guard of these worlds fell prey to the powers of chaos and sold their souls in exchange for their “deliverance.” The pleadings of these Guardsmen were not only heard by the Emperor of Man; Chaos answered their call as well. When no answer from the Imperium came, many of the Guard regiments began to panic; Chaos offered them the power to overcome the advancing xenos in exchange for their loyalty. Our chaplains stipulate that these fools had no idea what "loyalty" truly means to chaos: Slavery. True, had these Guardsmen remained loyal and awaited our arrival, they would have sustained heavy casualties-- perhaps total crushing defeat-- but they would have retained their honor. Now they have none, and are no better than contemptible bootlickers, good for nothing but to be trodden down.

 

The Tau arrived and faced a force of Imperial Guard more powerful and more prepared than any defense force they had ever faced. The war machines of the Guard regiments were deadlier than any these Tau had faced before. Single squads of ogryn could dispatch multitudes of kroot and fire-warriors without sustaining injury; even the presence of the formidable crisis and broadside battlesuits of the Tau was meaningless. The Guard soldiers had a steely, combat hardened edge to them, for not ever having engaged in a major conflict such as this, but there was a foul, feculent power fueling them. Ultimately, the Tau were slaughtered and driven from the system. While the Guard sustained losses, theirs were nothing in comparison to the havoc wreaked upon the Tau.

 

Ethereals, the spiritual leaders of the Tau, were captured, tortured, and killed. This utterly broke the resolve of the xenos, especially when the headless, maggot-ravaged bodies of their leaders were mounted on the fronts of the regiments' advancing Malcador battle tanks. Fewer than 250 of the Tau escaped the system alive. The Guard celebrated their victory in vain, for a greater, more horrible fate than that the Tau would have offered now awaited them. As was promised, Chaos came to claim its prize. The regiments of Guardsmen who had made their dealings with the dark gods were changed into what we call renegades. Servants of Nurgle.

 

They became distended mockeries of their former selves and fell completely under the control of the great unclean one; no longer privileged to think and act for themselves. Needless to say, the loyalists fell back from these loathsome monstrosities in abashed haste. These poor, witless soldiers had never seen the powers of Chaos at work, so everything that was now happening to them was a nightmare come to life; here, in this nearly abandoned sector of space, Chaos was a word used in bedtime stories to scare rambunctious children into obedience, nothing more.

 

The loyal Guardsmen retreated in terror from the renegade guard, all while watching their brothers-in-arms be slaughtered like livestock, only to rise again to press on against them. Though their numbers are dwindling, and they are terrified of every shadow that passes, the loyal Guardsmen continue to fight, bolstered by our presence.

 

They must understand, we come not as saviors; we come as conquerors, and conquer we will. Their survival is secondary to the purging of the taint that has overtaken these worlds.

 

Deliverance indeed. This filth will soon learn the true meaning of the word.

 

TBC...

[Grey Knight Purifier]

Alright Brother, down to buisness.

Thing the First: Change King to Emperor. please? It reads really awkwardly compared to Emperor, and I think that it interrupts the flow.

Thing the Second: Expand upon the Guards fall to Chaos, it doesn't make sense in the current context. I'm not understanding where the fall to Nurgle came from. You describe the Guards as more fearless, more disciplined than other regiments. I have a hard time believeing that they would fall to Chaos that quickly.

Thing the Last: Your dialouge is good, but occasionally lapses into overly flowery Yoda Speech, mostly in this line "You have much yet to learn neophyte.”

Not bad, Interesting to read, and I would definitely like to see you expand upon this.

[Hotspur]

OK. I changed the word King to Emperor; I was trying to convey a more feudal, knightly aesthetic to the chapter, but it must not have translated. Thanks for pointing that out.

 

I tried to explain the IG's fall better. After reading the story, I realize the Guards' fall was not as clear as I thought it was. If it still needs clarification, please let me know.

 

Tried to find the "Yoda Speech" and correct it. Hopefully it flows better now.