Iron Resolve

[Skoby]

Hey, this is my first short story on here, I've written a few short stories on non-40k in the past and whilst thinking of a background for my Iron Hands clan this scene started forming in my head, there's no action in it yet but will be updating soon. The main idea behind this short story is to introduce some of the characters in my army and to explore the feelings of a relatively inexperienced Iron Hand as he finds his place in the clan. This is my first story in ages like I said so let me have any constructive criticism.

 

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Marteas walked uneasily through the corridors of the makeshift buildings, with every pace there was the thud of his left armoured boot and the harsh metallic clang of his bionic right leg accompanied by a symphony of whirrs, clicks and hisses as the mechanical limb propelled him along adjusting for the uneven surface and his irregular gait as he adjusted to the new leg. He realised his armour was also adding to the noise, but that already felt part of him, these sounds were new but soon would be as part of him as his double heartbeat. He paused for a moment, strange feedback from the limb unsettling him, it took a moment to realise he was feeling faint vibrations from the powertools he could hear being used nearby. He knocked on the bulkhead next to him and smiled as he felt the vibrations through the metal leg, it looked cumbersome but tiny sensors provided him with a stream of data far more precise than biological nerves ever could. Continuing down the pathway he soon came to the source of the noises, servitors and serfs were ensuring the prefab corridors were secured to the bunkers.

 

Just hours ago this area had been thick jungle, selected from orbit the site had been cleared by orbital bombardment and defences had been rapidly deployed. The Iron Hands did not often deploy defensive structures, preferring to strike directly at the enemy rather than waiting for them to come to them. Medusans lived a nomadic lifestyle and Marteas had been a novice in the Iron Hands before he had seen his first permanent structures, so the concept of putting this much effort into building a fortification before the first enemy had even been spotted was utterly alien to him.

 

Turning a corner Marteas saw his destination up ahead, a forbidding looking hatch through a bulkhead with one of his brothers outside. His jet black armour didn’t have the usual white and silver trim but deep crimson cog patterns adorned the power armour marking him as not just as an astartes but as a tech adept favoured by the Omnissiah. Marteas bowed to show his respect but before he could announce his purpose the hatch was opened and he was beckoned through in silence.

 

The room was far brighter than the corridors and was lined with workbenches with other brothers and servitors performing repairs on equipment, it had taken less than an hour to set up an artificers hall in the base, with battle expected at night fall some of his brothers had been keen to perform last minute adjustments or utter pre-battle liturgies on their equipment and enhancements. Before he had mastered walking with his new limb his Iron Father, Leonix, had instructed him on disassembling his metal limb, providing him with liturgies to placate the machine spirit, oils to anoint vital components and had helped him engrave his name behind the front plate, Marteas had been honoured to join the list of heroes who had shared this leg. He saw Leonix at the back of the room, tiny mechadendrites emerging from his hands allowing him to interface with a plasma cannon, he waited patiently for Leonix to acknowledge him, fearing to interrupt, he knew plasma weapons whilst devastating to the enemy were fickle and required a delicate touch. With a sharp click Leonix disconnected from the weapon and straightened up, his artificial optics with an array of lenses whirred as they focussed on Marteas seemed as if they could gaze on your soul, yet had an unexpectedly comforting warmth that put you at ease.

 

“Marteas, you wish to speak with me?” Leonix’s voice came from a vox unit in his thorax, as a veteran of over 3 centuries with Febraas Clan and more dealings with the Adeptus Mechanicus than any other in the clan much of his body was mechanical. “Come, let us leave your brothers to their work, we can talk through here.” Marteas was lead through another hatch into a modest room of brushed gunmetal and was offered a seat, which was little more than a metal shelf extruding from the wall. Leonix sat opposite, his metal features that should by all rights look sinister and cold relaxed Marteas enough to begin,

“Father, does this deployment feel too soon to you?” Marteas paused, assessing the best way to put his doubts, “my leg is still new to me, in time it will strengthen me but I have been in combat drills for barely a week.”

“Do you believe there to be a flaw in your leg?”

“No sir, but…”

“The flesh it replaced was crushed and torn, is it not an improvement?”

“Of course not! But…”

“But nothing!” Marteas was shocked at Leonix’s harsh tones, but Leonix leaned back and continued, “son you are not the first to have reservations when their first major enhancement is forced upon them. Many of your brothers choose their first enhancement, they are fully prepared and welcome it fully, as it should be. For those such as you mourning for the flesh lingers, making you doubt the new part of yourselves. That weakness soon passes.”

Marteas considered this for a moment, “I know this is our way, I am ashamed of my own weakness but I feel less human.” A chill ran down his spine as he realised how he had just insulted his Iron Father but Leonix did not show any reaction.

 

“Tell me, how many greenskins did you kill in your last battle?”

“27”

“Including their so called Nob?”

“No sir, Kai got the killing blow.”

“And if you were just a human how many would you have killed?” Leonix didn’t wait for an answer, “27 orks could have torn through platoons of guardsmen or massacred towns. Your squad was isolated and surrounded by the foul greenskins yet you slaughtered them, holding them off until support reached you with only one loss, whose geneseed will live on, and minor injuries.”

Marteas shot up and strode over to the Iron Father, furious. “Minor? I lost my leg sir!”

“If you were just a human you would be crippled, if you were just a space marine you would still be recovering, but you are a son of Ferrus, you are stronger than ever and ready to fight! Crush your first foe under your new foot, kick him to the ground with force that shatters his bones, you will forget your doubts in battle.”

 

Leonix walked over to the small viewing port, “My thermal optics already detect motion in the deep forest, the heathen xenos here worship these jungles and have been slaughtering the guardsmen foolish enough to venture in them. Tonight they believe they will make us pay for ‘defiling’ their jungle, Eldar with their sorcerous technology is one thing, but these are deranged enough to attack astartes with wild beasts and so deserve the fate coming to them.

“They will be attacking soon, return to your squad and ready yourself, fill your mind with the battle to come and be sure your leg will not fail you.”

“Thank you sir, I will show them no weakness and no mercy.”

“It is my job to tend to you, iron, flesh and mind. Now go your squad has a vital role tonight, I expect you to return in glory.”

 

As Marteas left through the artificers hall lights started to flash and data streaming through his neurolink told him to get battle ready and filled his thoughts with tactical data and instructions. He paced through the corridors to form up with his unit, his leg forgotten as he anticipated battle.

[BassWave]

Haha! Yes! More writers for our legion! This inspires me to finally get off my exhaust port and write a sequel!

 

I like that this actually has character development, and that you are building up the story. The only thing that I would point out is that the way marines speak has to sound a little more refined in my opinion, especially the higher authority marines.

 

I love this and can't wait to see more :tu:

[Skoby]

I'll look over the dialogue properly see if I can refine it a bit. I've just started rereading the hours heresy novels and the levity Dan Abnet and Graham McNeil portray between the mournival and Horus seems to have rubbed off on me. I was picturing the iron fathers chaplain esque role ensuring the wellbeing of the clan and providing informal council outside of his command role. I edited out a line to that effect thinking it seemed out of place. Basically I want him to be a hardass on the battlefield, as well as an awe inspiring killing machine (pun intended) but ultimately he cares for the clan and tries to guide the men whilst other officers remain stern.

[Aqui]

Haha! Yes! More writers for our legion! This inspires me to finally get off my exhaust port and write a sequel!

 

I like that this actually has character development, and that you are building up the story. The only thing that I would point out is that the way marines speak has to sound a little more refined in my opinion, especially the higher authority marines.

 

I love this and can't wait to see more :D

 

I quite liked it too :P One small point (more of a personal preference and not necessarily the right way to do it), is to perhaps break the paragraphs a little. The first paragraph was quite a large one and could have been broken into smaller chunks (but that's just my way of doing things).

 

Looking forward to seeing more. Basswave, I look forward to more from you too ;)

[Skoby]

I've broken up the paragraphs, and made some small edits to the first part, reading through I agreed with both of your comments but didn't want to change too much. Here's the second part of the story, enjoy.

 

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As the world’s sun sunk below an alien horizon the sky darkened to a deep purple as storm clouds swept in from all sides, in moments the storm raged on the clearing. Astartes stood as still as statues, flashes of lightning showed weapons aiming at the edge of the clearing. Atop a bastion Marteas saw Leonix with a retinue of veterans, heavy weapons of the clans devestators protruded from firepoints promising swift death to the first enemy to emerge. To his right on another parapet stood the venerable Khaales and a squad of veterans, Marteas felt his chest swell with pride to be fighting between two heroes of his chapter.

 

A salvo of lightning strikes hit the fortification with eldritch precision, Khaales took the full force of a massive bolt, lightning arced harmlessly off him and he replied with a blast from his plasma cannon at an unseen foe deep in the jungle, scorching a large crater from the undergrowth. With that the trees were suddenly alive with the foe surrounded by frenzied wild xenos. This initial charge was shredded by a volley of fire, bolter fire tore through smaller beasts and any feral Eldar that failed to dodge the bullets, whilst heavy weapons decimated larger beasts the size of tanks ridden by the enemy. By the time Marteas reloaded his bolter the clearing was littered with strange corpses, but still they kept coming in greater numbers.

 

A strange war horn sounded and a pack of reptilian beasts burst from the jungle, each mounted by an armoured Eldar warrior, the foul beasts darted across the clearing in moments, their thick hides deflecting the worst of the bolter fire, as they reached the defensive wall only 3 had fallen. They leapt at the wall, their claws gouging into the plasteel as they tried to scrabble up the surface, Kai from Marteas’ squad unleashed his flamer on the beasts, and two of the beasts backed away from the burning and were picked apart by focused fire. A well aimed grenade blew a rider clear from his mount and neither returned to their feet but still they came.

 

The first foul beast clawed its way onto the parapet, the rider crude spear erupting through the chest of the nearest astartes. Veteran sergeant Eckos was a fearsome sight as he charged, slamming with the full force of his tactical dreadnought armour breaking the beasts leg and sending it over the edge. Eckos grabbed the rider’s arm with his powerfist, and slammed him onto the decking like a ragdoll. Eckos had already begun firing his stormbolter at the remaining beasts as he stamped the life out of the fallen warrior. Two more reptilian creatures climbed over the parapet and warriors had begun to deftly leap, abandoning their mounts, onto the walkway. One such warrior landed in front of Marteas, clipping his bolter to his belt he drew his pistol and combat knife. The warrior fired an alien pistol at him, the first firepower Marteas had witness from his foes, the sparks off his armour was the only indication it was even working, Marteas had time to fire two short bursts before closing on the enemy, the Eldar warrior sidestepped the volleys and lunged at Marteas with his spear, Marteas ducked under the attack, and thrust at his foes torso tearing through the simple armour like paper but the enemy managed to turn at the last second preventing serious injury, and bringing the butt of his spear down on Marteas’ back. His new leg kept him stable and launched him into a counter attack, driving his elbow into the enemies sternum, he felt bones snap and his foe fell to the ground, and was finished with a bolt round through his skull.

 

Marteas was briefly able to assess the situation, the melee had truly began as the enemy had breached the defences, and with less supressing fire more warriors and beasts were entering the clearing and scrabbling up the wall. A squat reptilian creature with boney spikes clambered over the parapet and Marteas charged, his bolt rounds gouging chunks of flesh but the beast didn’t seem to notice. As he neared his target he stabbed at the beasts neck hoping to sever an artery, but his blade stuck firm in dense muscle and Marteas was swept off his feet onto the creatures back enraging it further. Holding on tight and he managed to drive the point of his artificial foot between two scales, the edge sharpened like a chisel stabilising himself, he drew his bolter and sent a round through the creature’s skull.

 

Khaales had charged down the ramp and was tearing his way through the beasts, his massive mechanical fist squeezing life from beasts that could swallow an astartes, whilst he used his plasma cannon as an almighty club, crushing anything that got too close. His chassis mounted servo harness, a gift from an arch magos for defending a forge world, spewed flames and bursts of plasma energy on lesser beasts or grabbed them with its vice grips, flinging them to the ground. Yet for every beasts that fell two more gravitated towards the dreadnought, identifying him as the greatest threat. Marteas, inspired by his ancient leaders charged towards the mass of beasts and Eldar warriors, and saw Leonix at his shoulder also keen to get to the thick of the action and prevent Khaales being overwhelmed. Outnumbered and in close quarters the fight became easier, the frenzied beasts didn’t even turn to face the newcomers and when the Eldar tried to fight the surging beasts hindered their movement and even trampled one hapless warrior.

 

9 astartes were down, 4 had been savagely butchered and Marteas doubted the apothecaries would be able to recover their priceless geneseed, the others would need extensive surgery and new bionics before they would fight again. All the others whilst still fighting had gouges out of their armour and multiple flesh wounds as the razor sharp claws and strange spears pierced the ceramite plating but still the enemy poured out of the trees. Marteas blocked out the world, his helmet had been torn off but he didn’t feel the rain lashing against his face, all that existed for him was the enemy, all his focus was on butchering the enemy and deflecting their attacks. His concentration was suddenly broken by an incoming vox message, distorted by the storm “…ground units…thunderhawk has… atmosphere… 5 minutes”, the signal they had all been waiting for.