True Warrior

[Derek Shiv]

this occurred approximatley one day after Head Chaplain Leviathan "spoke" with Head Librarian Ty Finnochario, for those of you who read that story

 

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Derek Shiv stood contentedly in the cool midnight breeze of the Raginon wet season. "Wet Season", however, was almost a misnomer on this harsh desert planet. The coolest it had ever been during the day was over 100 degrees fahrenheit. At night, rain might come when the temperature dropped tp around sixty or so. In the dry season, which lasted for over half the year, only the local Phoenix Sect marines of the Legendary Chapter could survive being outside during the day for any large amount of time.

 

Tonight, however, the sky was crystal clear, and Derek had removed his helmet in order to fully enjoy such a rare ocassion. His gold and crimson power armor glinted like the sands around him in the starlight and the brilliant iridescence of the pale moon. He stood there, his crimson cape fluttering in the breeze, thoroughly at peace. Derek then turned and strode down the main pathway of his latest responsibility. Unlike his Chapter Master, Andurin Marvak, a former Dark Angel, he beleived that small town patrol was a marine's duty, whether Sect founder or new recruit. Only on Raginon was this able to be carried out, as there were enough Phoenix troops to handle all the settlements on the planet, because of their rarity. On other planets in the Aurelius system, local Militia did most of the "less important gaurd work" and marines covered the large cities.

 

He remembered a few comments Head Chaplain Leviathan had made several years ago at a Chapter Council session. As Derek had founded the Phoenix Sect, he was, of course, a powerfull member of the council, and controlled most of it with his openess and true wisdom. The older warriors had little power as they struggled to undermine the very truth of what being a warrior was to the average Legendary. Leviathan's one statement, "the commoners are our charge, but we still rank above them." proved him a very orthodox and misguided marine. Derek had responded that most of the troops had been "commoners" before joining the marines one way or another.

 

This also made patrols easier as every man had relations in several towns and friends in all of them. Derek himself had a distantly related man named Tyron in the Militia of this village, which was called Cerrar los Ojos, or Toclose their Eyes, referring to the orks that regularly raided the system.

 

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Still more to come, flood this thread with comments!!!

[Derek Shiv]

Around him were large rock outcropings that formed the homes of the civilians. Inside were individual living quarters and below that bunkers and supply depots, all hidden by the guise of the rock. This was to fool the brutish orks that raided the Aurelius system frequently. Sadly, the equally common Dark Eldar could not be fooled by such menial disguises, and had to be fought off regularly.

 

On the wall to the right of him, there was a grating noise and a square slab of rock swung downward to reveal a window. Derek smiled paternally when he saw the adolescent girl appear at the inky black square. The moonlight played off her latino features and raven hair, portraying her with stark beauty. In fact, most of the population of Raginon had this racial background, but Derek was not included in that group. His strongly caucasian, chiseled features set him apart from the norm. Seeing the jet haired, benevolent face, the girl relaxed knowing she had someone to talk to.

 

"Can you not sleep, Gloria?", Derek asked, his smooth, deep, voice flowing through the air like molasses. He had become the girl's confidant over the past few days he had spent here, and she trusted him more than anyone else in the village.

 

"I'm just worried about all those orks that have been after us lately. Do you think it might lead to something big?" she asked, eyes filled with renewed fear. Derek strode over to her and laid an armored, but soothing, hand on her shoulder.

 

"You do not need to worry over such things, child. That is the job for adults. You should live and enjoy yourself, and get some sleep so you can do that tomorrow. I will watch over you."

 

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Still more yet!

Please somebody say something!!! I need any kind of input!

[Derek Shiv]

somebody please post something! I don't even care if it is an insult!

 

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Gloria's eyes were still fraught with worry as Derek moved to close the window hatch. His keen ears had picked up a sound that made his blood run cold for a moment. "Sound the alarm and get everyone into the bunkers. You must move quickly, girl!" he urged, slamming the hatch.

 

Doubleshot strolled calmly along the northern edge of the compound, his twin bolters strapped at his side*. He too wore a crimson cape, as he was Derek's protege and would soon be promoted to the positon of second within his Sect. His helm's sensors then detected the whine of anti-grav motors in the distance, and from his vast experience he knew a Dark Eldar raid was coming. Churning up great clouds of sand, he rushed to find Derek and the local Militia commandan, shouting into his comlink all the way.

 

Meanwhile, Derek replaced his helm and quickly prepped his plasma cannon, facing to the west where he had heard the Dark Eldar coming from. Around him, militia spilled into the streets, lasguns at the ready. A one of them turned on a sentinel and drove the walker into position at the center of the town. "All squads form ranks and get those barricades up! We've got no time to lose! Vamos, hombres!" Militia Commandant Ramirez yelled, drawing his chainsword and bolt pistol. He had taken both off of a personally slain Black Legionaire the year before. Derek sped to the edge of the town, meeting up with Doubleshot on the way there.

 

"This is not good, Derek! By my count, they've got at least six squads of warriors with two of those in Raiders, three reavers and an @ssload of Hellions!" the younger marine griped, leaping around a corner to take up his position. Derek's reply was simple and stoic. "Make that three Raiders, some wytches, warphounds, and another group of Hellions coming strait down on top of us. Six, I beleive. Aim up and let loose a torrent of fire on my mark." he ordered, powering up the plasma cannon. He began counting aloud as Militia followed his example. "On my mark.....five.....four.....three.....two.....one....., now! open fire! wide arcs so they cannot veer out of the way!" the veteran shouted, his weapon pumping the night sky full of burning blue flame. He hated the shreiks his dying opponents emitted, but knew he had no other recourse.

 

Doubleshot saw three of the Hellions go up in flames before smashing into the sands. He managed to strike the engine of a skyboard with two bolts, fragmenting both it and its rider. The others were taken out buy lasguns, the red darts of energy lancing upward like so many fireworks. Then, by sheer misfortune, one of the falling skyboards slammed into the fuel tanks of the Militia's sentinel, detonating it with a loud, roiling explosion. He paused for a moment, watching the flames consume four troopers that would have been needed in the fight ahead. He spun around to see Derek already rushing towards the last barricade, his plasma cannon leveled at the fast approaching enemy. Swearing, he followed after, bolters smoking.

 

Ramirez knew that the defense would fail. They would have to retreat, his men would lead the civilians away and the marines would die holding out for them. It happened often, and nothing could be done about it. The hard little man raged futiley, vowing to make these bloodthirsty demons pay double in blood. He had already radioed defeat to the next town, where a larger garrison lay in waiting, with the valuable Leman Russ at its desposal. Oooooohhhhh, they would pay for it, pay for it dearly, he thought, gripping his chainsword with a hand like iron. "Hombres," he growled," give them hell for every inch of ground. Fight like men of Raginon, matalo! Matalo, cierran los ojos de todo tiempo!". "Cerramos los ojos de todo tiempo!"** the Militia roared back, each in the very heart of fury.

 

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*counts as power weapon and storm bolter

**"Men, give them hell for every inch of ground. Fight like men of Raginon, kill them! Kill them, close their eyes for all time!" "We close their eyes for all time!"

 

please give me your input!!!

[ironloki]

It seems well written but Derek doesn't seem a common marine name - perhaps if it was Derak - or Derrik as Derek seems a bit too normal if you know what I mean?

 

The story seems good if a little slow at the begining. Its also hard to try and figure out whats going on. Perhaps a little intro at the beginning or an epilogue to quickly bring the reader up to speed.

 

Something like

 

"Shiv watched as the local populace stuggled to rebuild the defences of the town. They had defended the town for ten days and he knew that the xenos would be here soon, for a final assault, and that many lives would be lost this day...etc"

 

Just to try and bring us up to speed as to whats going on before he starts remarking on his planet.

 

Hope that helped :P

[Derek Shiv]

Aaaaah, ironloki, thanks for replying. I think in the beginning I explain what is going on in the part about him being on patrol. As it is a warlike sector, they get raided a lot, so that's what's going on. Hope it helps? :P

 

As for the name, he used to be an average man. A repentant criminal, but still your average man. Hence the average name.

 

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Doubleshot waited calmly for his foes to get within range, his well trained eyes already picking out the pilots of the Raiders and Reavers. He heard Derek launch off many blasts of his intense blue flame, and saw a squad of warriors immolated seconds later in the distance. Rockets jetted out towards the incoming force, doing some damage as they struck, but the aim was not the best because of the distance. In his mind he counted down the moments until he could fire, and his hands gripped his bolters with a cold intensity. He raised them, checking his aim and picking out secondary targets, such as the Raider's gunners. And then, his mind bent on accuracy, he opened fire. Bolts scored the hull of the lead Raider and then his path of fire went upward, blasting the pilot off the controls and causing the craft to slam into the sands. Two groups of warriors and a Raider down, he thought, his mind filling with a breif hope. The sound of fiendish laughter coming from behind crushed it, as the group of over twenty Hellions hurtled into the Militia's heavy weapons, lopping off heads and limbs as they went. Luckily, Derek had understood what they would try and had had snipers and himself at the ready.

 

The Hellions realized that they were in trouble as soon as the lead two fell and four on the edges were incinerated. The remaining twenty sped back out over the sands, where they rejoined the main host of attackers, who now opened fire with every heavy weapon they had. Whole squads of men fell in the carnage, and many of the buildings exploded behind the front line, doing further damage to the meager defenses of the town. Ramirez saw this and immediatley sped up the escape convoy, which had most of the population on the way out, and was guarded by everyone not yet in the fight. He himself would stay, he had decided, and along with the ever depleting frontliners hold off the assault for as long as they could. Grimly, he gave command to his second, and ran off to die.

 

Derek fired continuosly, burning all within range that he could without being slain himself. That could come later, he thought, when the citizens had been completely evacuated. His devotion to his charges spurred him on, galvanizing his skill into a deadly tool of destruction. As long as he drew breath, the citizens would survive.

 

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Keep the commentary coming, what little I have has been helpful!

[Derek Shiv]

Then, the attackers reached the Militia frontline. Warpbeasts lunged forward, rending men into bloody red strips and then devouring them. Next came the wytches, there eerie dance of death sweeping up yet more agonized screams into the clear night sky. When the Hellions and Warriors hit, the lines crumbled, not because of a lack of courage, but because they were overwhelmed. Not a man ran, except to fall back and gain some aiming room. And then, the town's fate was sealed by the thundering "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!" that came from the east. The Dark Eldar laughed cruelly, knowing their "partners" had come to join in the fun!

 

Far off to the North, Brother Nathaniel heard the orks' warcry. The haunted marine was a member of both the Deathseeker and Fire Dragon Sects, and he had been stalking the sands to rid himself of his hideous childhood memories. At age twelve his entire village had been slaughtered by orks. He had watched his family die slowly, howling in agony. He hated now, and mourned. Those were the only emotions left in him. His red robe whirled around him in the growing wind, kicking up sand like a maelstorm.The war cry had opened his suffering mind like a raw wound, and it bled its hate profusely. Slowly, he turned, his jet black armor swallowing the starlight, and rimming his burning red eyepeices. His right hand gripped the Hellblade, his energy pike, with a furious intensity. His left tightened around his stormbolter. Cape, robe, and hood billowing behind him, he charged off toward the enemy, his fevered mind lost in its vengeful rage.

 

Back at Cerrar los Ojos, the fight was technically over. The conquerors moved among ruined buildings and rubble as they pleased, setting up camps to be free of the harsh desert wind. When the orks had arrived, they had crushed what little resistance was left, and then proceeded to smash anything within reach. Over a hundred of the brutes now roamed the desolate streets, creating crude graffiti and fighting amongst themselves. The Dark Eldar, of course, looked for things to torture. Luckily, they did not notice Ramirez and Domingo, the only two survivors form the Militia. They crouched in the corner of a wrecked garage, talking in hushed tones. Not far away, Doubleshot hid behind a large pile of rubble, trying to remember if he had seen Derek fall or not. Hearing some warpbeasts coming closer, he readied his bolters and waited for a moment of carelessness on the invaders' part.

 

Derek had not fallen. He stealthily padded through the lower right corner of the town, where the enemy had not yet come because of the distance. Most of them still remained in the upper left corner, as the main fighting had occurred there. Now that the orks had become a threat, he was devising a way of getting a warning to the next town and then causing as much damage as he could while the invaders remained here or traveled. He needed to steal a skyboard to make that work. But first, he would check for anyone who might have survived. He would need all the help he could get.

 

Ramirez whispered softly,"Domingo, there are warpbeasts outside the building. I can't tell how many, but I do know two wytches are handling them. I want you to get out of here as fast as you can and get a warning to the men in charge of the refugees. I'll give you as much time as possible. Got it?"

 

"Sir, I don't want to abandon you, but if you order me, I shall do as you ask. I will not fail you, Ramirez." the private replied, fixing his bayonet. But as he stood to go, they both heard pure choas erupt outside!

[Escaflowne_Z]

Well, the story itself is OK, but the narration is...dodgy. The wording of a SM story seems to have a certain, uhhh, vocabulary that is fairly unique. Of course, we don't know the chapter's background, but what chapter of SM would give up a portion of its vital geneseed to make a new chapter composed of inmates/human refuse? Most applicants to a chapter are the best warriors a world has to offer, and have to taint at all.

 

Not necessarily a rant against it, but some clarification would be nice.

 

For what its worth, here's my latest fluffy noughat:

 

Chosen of Sanguinius