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A techmarine's tale


NemFX

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A Techmarine's Tale

 

Chapter one:

 

 

Techmarine Kev'ver did not like servitors. He did not like the idea of ever having to use them. They were one of the oldest tools available to techmarines, but he hoped he would never have to use them.

 

Originally, he had no need of them. In the older days of years gone past, he was always assigned to his masters' command squad. This all changed one day when the squad was engaged in close combat with one of the Ultramarines oldest enemies: Chaos.

 

He had only meant to save his fellow brother marines, what he had accidently done was show off his martial prowess to his superiors. Shortly thereafter, a sweeping change occured throughout the codex. An old document was found on Terra that stated that techmarines must fight alone, or with servitors, and each techmarine was subsequently given a number of credits to help facilitate the change.

 

Many of the techmarines had already a small wealth of credits from their better than average combat skills saving their bretherin. Techmarines, not being allowed to decorate their armour as followers of the cult of Mars, usually preffered the equivolent of the medal in credits to help the chapter. The marines that kept family ties sent the medals home.

 

Most of the techmarines chose to upgrade their armour to a full servo harness by grafting extra servo arms onto their armour.

 

Kev'ver himself went this route, modifying a spare backpack. Unfortunatley, some strange whim of the machine spirit decided for this not to last. A few months after his new servo harness was completed it simply fell apart. Kev'ver examined every last component involved, and suspected a few of the more mischevious brother marines, but realizing that they didn't have the technical skills needed, he simply dismissed it as a message from the machine spirit telling him that he was simply going down the wrong path.

 

Instead, he stayed around the barracks, repairing and refitting equipment, until one day..

 

"Brother-Techmarine Kev'ver please report to cargo bay five immediatley." the stern but articulate voice of brother-captain Maximus beckoned from the intercom.

 

Kev'ver acknowledged the summon, then set off down a corridor, noticing that a few of the lights flickered and made a note to replace them at a later time.

 

The cargo bay was occupied by a number of large containers holding food, munitions, clothing, and the other various neccesities required for prolonged missions.

 

Captain Maximus, brother-librarian Quintus, and three others were already present near a rack of bombardment torpedos. The majority of the company was in prayer with brother-chaplain Pelagius.

 

The door hissed open as the techmarine entered, the light reflecting off his green armour making him quite distinct to those gathered; Maximus, Quintus, brother-apothecary Morion, and veteran marine Vlad. Idly buzzing about was Quintus's armoured servo skull Kabal. Kev'ver noticed one thing that made him subconciously tense up: each of them were fully armed and armoured.

 

"So nice of you to join us." Morion quipped, noticing Kev'ver's discomfort despite the bulky power armour he wore.

 

"At ease brother; these weapons aren't for you." Quintus reassured him, "Though if they are needed we won't be found lacking."

 

Maximus had his bolter, power fist and combat shield, Morion had his bolter, Quintus had his force blade and bolt pistol. Vlad weilded a fairly imposing meltagun.

 

Kev'ver relaxed slightly, but he was glad that his helmet hid his emotions, since his eyes were still on the weapons.

 

Maximus spoke up, "I'm sure your wondering why I called you here, and why we're all armed. A few hours ago at 03:00 we received a hail from a trader ship. It's captain, a man named Walker said that he had been looking to rendezvous with a Space Marine ship, and had something for us. To make a long story short, he had something that we know would be helpful. We bartered for a short time, but I think you should have the first look, since we aren't as familiar.."

 

Maximus and Quintus stepped aside to allow Kev'ver to see what they had been standing in front of. Lit dimly from an above light was a sleek and well preserved peice of technology, possibly older than anyone in the room. "A stasis pod?" Kev'ver asked rhetorically, as he leaned in closer to inspect the seals and condition.

 

"Like a kid in a candy store, isn't he?" Morion commented, as Vlad shot him a look, despite the helmet. Morion was always being chastized for mouthing off, but always being excused by the chaplains, as it was considered to be a coping measure for having to see their bretherin in horrific conditions. Plus, he had saved more marines over the years than anyone could count, which gave him more leeway than he probably deserved.

 

"The stasis pod seems to be completley intact.. Amazing. It must be almost a millenia old.. Probably alot older.."

 

"Look inside brother." Quintus mused as he tried in vain to keep the servo skull under control, "The pod wasn't the only thing we had to show you.."

 

Kev

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  • 3 weeks later...
couple quick questions about the main tech character 1) wheres his weapons when he went to the meeting ? 2) dont almost all tech marines have servo arms ? 3) what exactly was he doing before they paged him for the lack of a better word? was he blessing the chapters war marchines ? in the armory servicing the companys weapons..etc ? also the cargo bay bit could use some more elaboration later on i mean is its a cargo bay on the chapters battle barge or strike cruisers ? one in the fortress monastary?etc.. over all im hooked though and eagerly awaiting the next installment

I always love questions :devil:

 

1. Techmarine Kev'ver wasn't expecting to walk into a room full of people with guns aimed at his head, so he left it in his workshop. For future refference, he has a standard bolter (the newer kind, m40 i think?) with a very large drum barrel, a poweraxe with the Cult of Mars symbol on it, and a servo arm.

 

2. Yes, but some also have the full servo harness which gives them two servo arms, a plasma welder and a flamer. Originally my techmarine had just the one, then i tried making a backpack with extra space marine arms glued to it, it didn't last long, so I reverted it back into a backpack with one servo arm.

 

3. Chances are he was grumbling because someone mucked up the armour and he had to sort it out. I imagine that techmarines are like doctors; they are good at what they do, but they resent it to some extent.

 

And I know I was a little vague on the contents and size of the cargo bay. It was somewhat intentional, because I wanted to elaborate a little more during the next chapter or two. They aren't in a battle barge, a strike cruiser, or even one of the little frigate ships, they are actually in a cargo ship, and they are part of a larger convoy. I'll say no more, because that'd ruin my fun later on.

 

I'll see if I can go to the bingo tomorrow. Inspiration comes from odd places. I wrote the entire first chapter while using a bingo dabber with the other. To spice it up, I randomly crossed over my hands and used my left hand to write when I ended up getting behind.

 

 

.. And no, I didn't win. Old people are bingo ninjas.

  • 1 month later...

I've had the second chapter written up for awhile, but no real desire to type it up. Lack of money = lack of motivation.

 

 

Anyways, enjoy.

 

 

 

Chapter 2:

 

Flesh and steel. Man and machine. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

 

Kev'ver started agape in shock; he had managed to get this far without having to deal with servitors beyond the manditory training, but here he was; staring one in the face.

 

In other circumstances he would have called the humand part of this creature a brother in arms, but for whatever reason the man in front of him had failed the process of becoming a space marine.

 

 

Kev'ver looked around him at the various weapons levelled in his general direction. He wished that he could simply turn his back on it and allow the pod and it's inhabitant to perish, but as he looked at the sleeping man, some part of his concience told him he could not.

 

He slowly straightened up and said quietly "Morion, I will need your help.." as he activated the old keypad and began the thawing process. Kev'ver connected his forearm computer to the servitors head jacks and began searching through the instructions the servitor previously had.

 

 

A few moments later the wires disconnected and disappeared back into Kev'ver's armour. The servitor had once been stationed on a battle barge called 'Forlorn Hope' and was designed for technical repairs.

 

Brother-Captain Maximus cursed when he heard this. In his own words, "That could be any ship in the fleet. No indication of chapter, homeworld, or system. Forlorn Hope would be like looking for a ship called Emperor's Wrath. Let's just ask him once he's awake." The captain tended not to like the eccentric nature of other chapters, and this was no great secret among his company.

 

After disabling his pneumatic arm, the servitor was strapped to a reinforced gurney and Vlad accompanied him to the medical bay.

 

Brother-Captain Maximus dismissed everyone after seeing Quintus stare at him. It was inexplicable how the librarian had done it, but somehow in a single look he had conveyed an almost palpable ammount of doubt. Maximus would reflect on this as he made his way to the chaplain's office.

 

 

Kev'ver, on the other hand, went back to his workshop. Again he cursed at the flickering lights, at his poor luck, and at the large pile of things to repair.

 

Truly he beleived his was a cursed life, and this belief seemed to be confirmed when he found that the smell that had plagued his workshop had been eminating from brother Brutus's boots. For whatever reason, Brutus's feet had grown rather large during his transformation, and he had been literally tearing his armour open simply by wearing it. The smell came from all of the things that had gotten caught in the large cracks and torn metal.

 

The servo arm grabbed a large sheet of metal and squeezed it until the two inch thick sheet literally bent around it. The sparks flew as Kev'ver used a melta pistol to weld the metal into a roughly boot shape. Melta pistols were far too underpowered for field use, but for repairing armour it was perfect.

 

Kev'ver idly wondered why this abnormality was occuring more often and made a mental note to ask Morion about it sometime.

 

"Techmarine Kev'ver please come to the medical bay to pick up your pet." Morion's voice cheerfully eminated from the intercom.

 

"Speak of the devil and he will appear.." Kev'ver grumbled to himself as he walked out the door.

  • 4 weeks later...

Glad you guys like. I also have a few bits of random 40k art that I'll eventually put somewhere on this board. I'll try and write more tonight. You guys should like the little revelations I have been planning.

 

Oh, and remember, since I'm writing this, there will be twisted humour that would make even the Chaos gods blush. You've been warned.

After reading your story, I feel like mine is lack-luster. Good job! :rolleyes: Huh. If I knew where you were going with this, I might be more inclined for a cross-over. I really am not sure, seeing as how The Fall of the Knights is my first story and I'm trying not to do anything even remotely big so that I won't accidentally ruin it. Sure, it fits together pretty well, but I would still recommend that we both finish the saga that we are working on before we think about a cross-over. So that we, like, could give everyone else a better feel for our characters and stories before we do something like that. Just a thought.

 

 

 

 

Have a nice day. Cheers! :)

Oh. I can identify with that, brother. That's exactly what I do on school writing assignments too, besides when I write for fun. Okay. You do at least have a rough outline of events, right? If not, wow. If so, then go ahead and send me a message. I'm thinking that after the cross-over is done, I'll write a story about Akhad's past. Geez, I really gotta go make that model of Akhad. But since his equipment changes so often, how will I do that with a model? His bolter will always stay with him. That is one of his "things". I'll probably just wing it. That always seems to work. Heheheh. :lol: :angry:

 

Have a nice day. Cheers! :blink:

Chapter 3:

 

The doors of the medical bay wooshed open as Kev'ver approached.

 

Upon the examination table lay a marine. His armour partially removed and pain crossed his features often.

 

".. And he is still unconcious, my lord." Finished the servitor.

 

"What happened to him?" Kev'ver asked as he took in the damage to his armour, noticing some particularly deep punctures.

 

"His brain implants are malfunctioning, and they are causing an imbalance in his brain, causing him to feel an immense pain in his head and fall unconcious randomly, my lord." the still unnamed servitor said.

 

"Are you sure the diagnostic machine is working properly? That is extremely rare; so rare that it only happens with those who just got them, since they are durable enough to last longer than a millenia." Morion mused.

 

"Actually, the probability of this is 1780094324 to one."

 

"Exactly my point. Check the machine, then do it again. I want to make sure before I make him new implants."

 

"Yes sir." The servitor methodically checked the machine twice over as Kev'ver reached for the marine's battle scarred helmet.

 

 

Turning it over he plugged his signum into the communications port. After doing a quick diagnostic and noticing some rather extensive damage to the rear sections of the helmet he accessed the most recent recorded battle footage.

 

Tyranids. Many, many Tyranids. No wonder there was so much damage to his armour.

 

Ah. There. A particularly nasty genestealer had knocked him down, and a carnifex tried to finish him off, but he was saved by a marine wielding a lazcannon.

 

Remarkable that he even survived, really. As Kev'ver unplugged his signum, he looked at the heraldry on the armour. At first glance he almost mistook it for Ultramarines first company, which wasn't hard to do. The blue armour and white helmet were normally associated with the Ultramarines and their splinter chapters. However, the silver trim and ornate decorations meant he was from one of the knightly followings.

 

It didn't really matter. The helmet was toast, and the marine would be too unless they acted quickly.

 

"Morion. Prepare for surgery." Kev'ver said as he started removing the marine's battered breastplate.

 

"Yes. His Catalespan node is damaged. It would be best to simply replace it before he gets too delerious to reco-"

 

"No. It's not just that. The neural lacing in his brain has been impacted. He isn't just interfacing with his armour, he's feeling the damage done to his armour as if it were being done to him."

 

Morions eyes widened, and he went almost as pale as the white armour he wore.

 

"You there. Servitor." Kev'ver said distainfully. "Go to Brother Chaplain Pelagius and ask him to include in his religious services a prayer for brother Akhad here."

 

"Yes my lord." The servitor did a slight bow and set off to the on board chapel.

 

 

Several hours later..

 

Morion stitched up the small incision he had made. Kev'ver made one final diagnostic scan to try and ease his nerves. He preffered dealing with weapons and armour because he couldn't bear to see his brother marines to be injured so.

 

"You can keep the brain surgery, I'll stick with my rocket sciences." Kev'ver complained as he stared at the removed and rather heavily damaged neural link.

 

"Yeah, yeah. Where is your servitor? You sent him off about two hours ago." Morion said as he cleaned his medical equipment.

 

"Brother Techmarine Kev'ver. My office. Now." the rather angry voice of Brother Chaplain Pelagius boomed from the intercom.

 

"Oh hell. What now?"

 

Morion laughed at his outburst.

 

"Make sure to tell me when he recovers. I want to make sure that the new implants work properly."

 

"I'm a doctor, not a secretary." Morion said bitterly.

 

Kev'ver waved it off as he left, wondering what the damn servitor had done now.

  • 4 weeks later...

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