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post #1 of 16 (permalink) Old 07-02-12, 04:34 PM Thread Starter
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Default Heresy Online's Expeditious Stories 12-07: Duty

Welcome to the year's seventh Heresy-Online's Expeditious Stories (HOES) Challenge!

For those of you that are unfamiliar with HOES, here's how it works:

Each month, there will be a thread posted in the Original Works forum for that month's HOES competition. For those of you interested in entering, read the entry requirements, write a story that fits the chosen theme and post it as a reply to the competition thread by the deadline given. Each and every member of Heresy Online is more than welcome to compete, whether your entry is your first post or your thousandth. We welcome everyone to join the family of the Fan Fiction Forum.

Once the deadline has passed, a separate voting thread will be posted, where the readers and writers can post their votes for the top three stories. Points will be awarded (3 points for 1st, 2 for 2nd, and 1 for 3rd) for each vote cast, totaled at the closure of the voting window, and a winner will be announced. The winner will have his/her story added to the Winning HOES thread.


The idea with the theme is that it should serve as the inspiration for your stories rather than a constraint. While creative thinking is most certainly encouraged, the theme should still be relevant to your finished story. The chosen theme can be applied within the WH40K, WHF, HH, and even your own completely original works (though keep in mind, this IS a Warhammer forum) but there will be no bias as to which setting is used for your story.

As far as the theme goes, please feel free with future competitions to contact me with your ideas/proposals, especially given that my creative juices may flow a bit differently than yours. All I ask is that you PM me your ideas rather than posting them into the official competition entry/voting threads to keep posts there relevant to the current competition.

Word Count

The official word count for this competition will be 1,000 words. There will be a 10% allowance in this limit, essentially giving you a 900-1,100 word range with which to tell your tale. This is non-negotiable. This is an Expeditious Story competition, not an Epic Story nor an Infinitesimal Story competition. If you are going to go over or under the 900-1,100 word limit, you need to rework your story. It is not fair to the other entrants if one does not abide by the rules. If you cannot, feel free to PM me with what you have and I'll give suggestions or ideas as to how to broaden or shorten your story.

Each entry must have a word count posted with it. Expect a reasonably cordial PM from me (and likely some responses in the competition thread) if you fail to adhere to this rule. The word count can be annotated either at the beginning or ending of your story, and does not need to include your title.

Without further ado...

The theme for this month's competition is:


Entries should be posted in this thread, along with any comments that the readers may want to give (and comments on stories are certainly encouraged in both the competition and voting threads!) 40K, 30K, WHF, and original universes are all permitted (please note, this excludes topics such as Halo, Star Wars, Forgotten Realms, or any other non-original and non-Warhammer settings). Keep in mind, comments are more than welcome! If you catch grammar or spelling errors, the writers are all more than free to edit their piece up until the close of the competition, and that final work will be the one considered for voting. Sharing your thoughts with the writers as they come up with their works is a great way to help us, as a FanFiction community, grow as a whole.

The deadline for entries is Midnight US Eastern Standard Time
(-5.00 hours for you UK folks)Tuesday, 24 July 2012. Voting will be held from 25 July - 31 July. Remember, getting your story submitted on the July 3 will be just as considered by others as one submitted on July 20! Take as much time as you need to work on your piece!

Additional Incentive
If simply being victorious over your comrades is not enough to possess you to write a story, there will be rep rewards granted to those that participate in the HOES Challenge.

Participation - 5 reputation points, everyone will receive this
3rd place - 10 reputation points
2nd place - 20 reputation points
1st place - 30 reputation points

If you have any questions, feel free to either PM me or ask in this thread.

Without further nonsense from me, let the writing begin!

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post #2 of 16 (permalink) Old 07-02-12, 09:44 PM Thread Starter
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A few thoughts to get people started:

If there is no real cost to doing it is it duty or just a job? For example, is kissing your wife a duty?

Do you have to choose something for it to be duty? For example, a Space Marine is bred and indoctrinated to fight for the Imperium, so is it actually their duty?
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post #3 of 16 (permalink) Old 07-02-12, 09:50 PM
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Only in death does duty end... Or not.
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post #4 of 16 (permalink) Old 07-06-12, 08:41 PM
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In Death Duty Does Not End.

Word Count: 1085

The old soldier looked upon his men and women, all with tired eyes and weary bodies. He did not blame them; this had been a hard fought battle. Now with the safety of this steam fuelled train to the barracks at Tay, their duty would end and they might get some needed rest.

Sergeant McCray walked the length of the Flying Taymar and stood before her massive engine. Her steam chimney rose high into the skies and he thought that if he listened hard enough there were songs to be heard in her idling steam bursts.

Like the ancient pipes of his forgotten home world Nova Celtia, it seemed to tell him that their war was nearly over. He would hope that it was. Many friends lost in the wars against the Archenemy and others to the fanatical ways of the Commissariat, especially if cowardice was perceived. He put his tabac stick out and shouldering his carbine rifle he walked the length of the train. He started checking every storage door to ensure that it was locked and, that the men and women of the Nova Celtia 34th Infantry, the so called “Warriors of Heart” were in their appointed posts and doing their watch duties with the same efficiency as their younger counterparts.

He could hear the singing from the passenger carriages and shook his head, not one of the young bucks and young fawns had any idea what they were going to be facing. The war here had been on-going for over fifty years, they were in the arse end of the universe in the Shetland System and these young bloods’ had yet to see the real hardships of battle.

The explosives crew had checked along the bridge and ensured that it was not rigged to explode. He doubted it would be as the powers of the fell ones had much up their sleeves and explosives would be too obvious, and yet part of him was relieved as he stopped to look over the massive iron bridge.

It spanned the width of the mighty river Taymar. Great iron struts ensured that any train going over the bridge was protected from the harsher elements of this world. There was a walkway that had been constructed for the engineers to periodically re-paint the bridge to prevent rust setting in or check for broken struts and tracks.

He heard his Commissar bellow for all to get aboard. With a sigh Sergeant McCray climbed aboard and waved towards the drivers cab. The sooner they delivered the new bloods and the tanks to the encampment at Carisbrooke the sooner they will all make a push to finally get off this rock, or claim it as their own, whichever came first.

The steam erupted and the wheels turned, with a screech it began its slow move towards its destination and the Warriors of Hearts’ final battle. They never made it. Halfway across the bridge the Sorcerers of the Thousand Sons caused the river to swell to such a degree that the force behind it battered the pillars of rockcrete. As the Flying Tamar picked up speed the sorcerers sent the unnatural forces to the weakened structures. The moment the heavy train hit the weakened track section, the bridge broke apart. The weight of the train and the frenzy of the warp churned river had the bridge break in two; the train upended and plummeted into the freezing depths of the waters.

The steam hissed in anger as it entered the water, the screeching of the wheels mingled with the creaks of the armoured vehicles drowned out any human screams. The waters battered the train as it sank deeper into the water and swirled around it like a pack of hungry wolves. Once the hissing was done and the waters had calmed once more, the broken bridge was the only remnant to what had happened here.

Two fishermen were sitting along the banks of the Taymar. The war had ended almost half a century before. The Imperium won a costly but important victory, driving the forces of Chaos out of the system, with the help of the Brotherhood of a Thousand, White Scars and Raven Guards Astartes, peace reigned once more.

They chatted about how peaceful life was round here. The bridge itself had never been repaired. Further along the stream a new Bridge had been built by the Mechanicum, the older one had been sealed off and left as a memorial to the thousand men and women of the Imperial Guard who had died in what had been seen as one of the Thousand Sons more cowardly acts by the Warmaster.

They caught their fish and ate their supper then settled in for the night fishing they had decided to stay for. The more they caught, the more their families would feast at the weekend celebrations. The Priest would be there to say a prayer and honour those that had fallen in the defence of their world. They spoke about how their daughters and sons were doing and how their clan would continue to thrive with the blessings of the Great Chieftain and his sons.

The celebrations also marked the games, when the Brotherhood of a Thousand would come to them and recruit more males for their sky warriors. They come once every twenty five years and both men had sons of age and hoped their sons would be chosen. They laughed together and then it died away as their attention was drawn to the old bridge.

A single light lit the way but was bright enough to bathe the opposite side of the vast riverbank and as the two fishermen raised their glances they saw a train, an old train, one that had not been used in fifty years come across the old bridge. Soldiers sat on the roofs of the carriages with their rifles held tightly and lights in the carriages silhouetted the singing figures of soldiers on their way to battle. The fishermen watched, terrified as the Train screeched, and the engine and its carriages fell into the river with the screams dying with it, it vanished as it hit the water.

The two fishermen left their tools and ran like the spirits of hell were after them.

In death, duty did not always end. The next night Sergeant McCray boarded the train as he would for eternity to deliver the men and weapons that would never arrive.
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post #5 of 16 (permalink) Old 07-08-12, 07:30 PM
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Default Next Time I Dream

Next Time I Dream.

They say that only in death does duty end but is this really true? I don’t know. My pain is tearing away at me, ever grinding the soul from my flesh, my sanity from my mind. I have seen too much to be able to forget; too much to ever return to the childhood innocence I had once known.

They say the enemy is called Chaos, but that is sometimes not the correct application to the attributes of the Great Enemy. Many times the measures the Great Enemy applies is measured, carefully planned and precise; glorious on infinite levels that mortals could never hope to achieve.

The World eaters do not apply many plans to their barbaric invasions and world domination, nor do the Space wolves. Their tactics are basically the same; destroy everything and let nothing stand in their way. But take the Ultra Marines and the Alfa Legion, the Iron Hands and the Word Bearers; now there is perfection in infinite planning. Discipline and structure are evident in their methods. Patient and detailed they move about with intention and devotion systematically annihilating the hopes of their enemies while gaining footholds that none can displace.

Though some of the for-mentioned fight for Chaos and some for the Emperor of mankind the effectiveness of their strategies cannot be denied. I know, for the life I once lived has been torn apart by the careful planning of both Chaos and the Emperor.

So where does my duty lie? I have suffered at the hands of both good and evil. During the invasion of Riamex the Word Bearers destroyed the cities by orbital bombardment killing most of my family and most of humanity that dwelt above ground. Once they set foot upon the blasted wasteland they had created they began to erect towers from the rubble, flesh and bone of the dead. Any who still survived were forced to work and any too weak to perform were grafted into the walls of the structure while screaming and begging for their lives.

The Ultra Marines descended from the heavens like living Gods and met the Word Bearers face to face. Blades of iron and steel clashed with armor that had been possessed with the souls of the tormented. Shrieks of agony and dismay were met with oaths of vengeance and devotion to the Emperor of mankind and silenced by shells from storm bolters and multa-rifles.

What remained of the cities fell in flame and collapsed by the power of tank shells and shoulder cannons. Red armor met blue and white armor, curses from the lips of devoted enemies and screams of the dyeing. Between these two mighty armies the rest of my family perished and my heart grew stone hard from the losses inflicted upon my soul.

I have found my duty in the death of my family. I want to kill them all. Eventually the Ultra Marines drove off the Word Bearers and declared victory and a world saved. I think they are blind to the destruction around them for their uncaring eyes fell upon me while I wept for my family and not a word was said to console my grief except the words, “The Emperor protects!”

Curse the Emperor. Damn his immortal soul. Where was he when all I loved burned away in the fires of war? The Emperor does not protect, nor does he see the struggles of his children. I wish I could kill them all but alas I am only human and helpless to vent my pain.

In my dreams I watch as my enemies and saviors, both Chaos and those devoted to the Emperor are torn apart. I laugh as their ships are ripped from the stars and turned inside out. I bathe in the blood of them all while I dance upon their bones. In the ashes of my mind I hear them scream, begging for mercy while I cut the meat from their bones with my screams of mourning.

I can see them all lying in the ashes of my home world. Their blackened bones lie in the streets and I laugh as I see my family walking amongst them. My laughter turns to tears once more when the wind blows and carries away their memories like ashes in a storm.

Am I really so weak and helpless? In my dreams I am mightier than a God. What will happen if I stop dreaming? I find out when I open my eyes. Their before me are the ruins of my home world. I see the bodies of the dead and the mourners wailing over them, but I also see the broken forms of Space Marines whose armor has been torn away from their flesh and the flesh ripped from their bones. All around I see the shattered burning hulls of the star-craft they used to unleash hell. All around are the skeletons of my enemies, burnt, broken and splintered.

A child comes to me and smiles. Her red hair is filthy as is her face and clothes but her eyes are bright and green. She is a beautiful girl around ten years of age. She speaks words that set my soul aflame and gives me purpose once more. ‘Your family says they love you. They say your duty is clear. Kill them all!’

In my dreams I see them running through the fields that once were so green and lush. My children are laughing and I can see my wife smiling at me through the windows of our home. The breeze is blowing through the trees and with it comes a song. I don’t want to awake from this dream for I know what I will find, but even as I think the thought the fires come and blow away the memories of my loved ones once again.

I hate them for what they have done. I will kill them all next time I dream.

995 words.

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
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post #6 of 16 (permalink) Old 07-10-12, 02:41 PM
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We knew it was coming.

Even if you hadn’t heard it from a colleague at the fabrica, or caught a whisper of it on the public riser-cars, or seen graffiti daubed on some hab stairwell being burned-off by the Vigiles, you knew it was coming. You know something was coming.

The holo-networks had been different for weeks, Ecclesiarchy programs ran from power-up to power-down on some channels. Others just ran war-vids, real or fictional, a endless low-res procession of Imperial victories and crushing might. The Arbites were everywhere, stopping crawl-cabs and kicking down doors, demanding names and serial numbers, stopping and searching.

All this might have been overlooked, I suppose; it had been no different the time the old Lord Governor had died, and the Public Mourning Decrees were in full swing. The Arbites were everywhere for months that time, and they were everywhere this time, too. Like I say, no different. But the Navy never turned up when the Governor died, did they? Well, they did this time. Just kind of arrived, with no announcements or ceremony or visits or marches. Just sat there, in high orbit, everyone pretending they weren’t there, weren’t watching us. Word was they had brought other ships with them. Dark ships, if you know what I mean. You knew something was coming, alright.

“Don’t look,” they said. “Just don’t look, and it will be ok.” But we had to look. And we knew it wouldn’t be ok. It would never be ok again. Everyone knew that, but no-one would say it.

So the day approached, and somehow you knew what day it was going to be, despite no-one ever actually telling you. Somehow, the date just kind of got around, like the flu, passed from person to person without anyone really doing anything. Maybe we just didn’t mention the date at all, and that was how we knew. It was the date no-one would talk about. It was the date no-one would schedule anything for, or meet anyone on. It was the date people wanted to forget before it had even happened.

And so the holo-networks kept up their diet of plastic happiness and military awe and iron faith in the Emperor, and then the day came.
I went to work as usual. I remember thinking it was funny; no-one stayed away from the fabrica that day, not one person. Even Tarn Coilette, the guy with the dodgy sus-heart, came in, and just sat at his bench wheezing. No-one wanted to be remembered as having stayed at home that day, as having stayed away from their fellow men. Why did you stay at home? What did you do? Did anyone else join you there? Give us their names? Sign this confession. We all knew that, if the crackdown had been bad before that day, it was going to be ten times worse after, and the people up in those ships I mentioned, they wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. They were famous for it.

So the fabrica was full, and everyone was working away, and the Supervisors were shouting and joking like it was any other day, although the shouting was a bit quieter and the jokes a bit louder, just like they were doing across the whole city, I guess. And then it happened.

We were indoors, but even so, we felt it. We all did. I know you did, despite what you say. It was like that feeling you get when you wake up in the middle of the night, and it’s dark and quiet and you’re warm and comfortable and you’re falling back asleep, and then you hear the sound that woke you up in the first place. You hear it properly this time. And you’re not warm or tired any more. And your heart is thumping, even though it’s just a sound, and it probably doesn’t mean anything. It’s probably just the pipes, and the kids are safe in bed. But your heart is still hammering a different beat. That feeling, and we all got it at once, as if we had all been asleep, and we’d all just got a knock on the door at three am.

We all stopped working, and we went to the tall windows. Not a view I’ll forget. Usually we can just see other fabrica towers crowded around, big, solid, and featureless. Faceless. But not that day. Every window in every one of them was filled with people, workers standing there, just like all of us. Looking at each other, but mostly looking up.

Light travels slowly in a galaxy this big. Light dawdles, while the ships of the fleets dance from star to star, winking here and there like flashbugs in the night. So we knew what was coming, long before the light got here. Thousands of years before the light got here, if truth be told. And it was a day for telling truth. Cold, horrible truths we’d rather not be told.

We looked up and saw it in the gloom of the evening sky, almost invisible at first, slowly forming, but getting brighter and brighter, and also somehow darker and darker. A stain, seeping out into the night, one that could never be removed. Seeping into the night? Worse. Seeping into us, too. That feeling? That feeling never went away after that day, it’s still with us all now, an ashen cloak of dread no-one can take off. Even in the brightest daylight we can feel it there, above our heads, watching us. Ever since that day the slow light of an historic horror finally reached our home world.

The day we saw the Eye of Terror open.

And that was the ultimate test. When we saw the very sky torn apart we all knew it was now. But I knew what I had to do. It was duty. We all stood and watched but we knew it was our duty not to fall down and cry. It was our duty to our families, to the God-Emperor and to ourselves. That is what duty is. But what choice did we have. For we were being watched by the darkest men of the Imperium. They were ready to bring hell to any who forgot his duty.

1039 excluding title.

The Silent Lions Chapter

Winter Falls


Give a man a match and he will be warm for a day.
Set a man on fire and he will be warm for the rest of his life.

Last edited by Romero's Own; 07-10-12 at 03:22 PM.
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post #7 of 16 (permalink) Old 07-12-12, 06:53 PM
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I am a child, staring at a sky of iron grey, while snow falls onto my skin. I am alone, surrounded by rocks, mountains rising to the heavens like towers. I feel lost, alien. I do not belong here, even though I am here. I look into the sky and search for an answer to my existence, but only snow falls, in silence. There is no answer, and I have been forgotten.

I am a young boy, staring at a ceiling painted in garish colours, velvet clothing covering my skin. Around me, humans mingle, talking in hushed voices, their glances touching me like snowflakes, cold and invasive. I hear them, but I do not listen. I follow the ornaments painted unto stone with my eyes, seeing their flaws, where curves and angles are breaking the pattern. They hold no answer to my question, and neither do the men and women around me, with their concerns and plots. Surrounded by living, breathing beings I am still alone. They do not have the answers I crave.

I am a man, and around me is war. I wield a weapon and I kill, with ease. Blood spatters my skin, and my blows rend flesh and bone. Behind me, an army follows, shouting, struggling to keep up with me. They cannot, but they do not matter. Before me, the enemy falls. They look at me with horror, they curse me. And they die. I am beyond them, as I am beyond those who follow me. In battle, I know peace. I feel I am close to the answer to the question of my existence, because battle I know, and weapons are familiar to my hands. But I have no purpose, no reason to fight, and I understand I will not find my answer here, either. And so I lower my sword. The enemy attacks me, but they cannot harm me. Their blows are like snowflakes on my skin. And I am still alone.

I am a son. I see my father, and my existence is redeemed. He answers my questions and explains. And I understand. I have purpose, and duty, and I was born to fight his wars. He does not need to ask for my help, it is given as it was meant to be. I do not mourn what I leave behind. I can look up to the heavens and see my future beyond them. A sword without purpose is nothing, and a warrior without duty is just a killer. I am more than that. My father has found me and I am no longer alone.

I am a father. My sons carry my purpose to the stars.

I am a general, and I fight on countless battlefields. I lead armies, and build fortresses. They have no flaws. There is glory to my name, but I do not crave glory. All I want to do is my duty, fulfil my purpose. Surrounded by my sons I stand under alien skies. We carry this war into the future, for none can fight it like we do. I have brothers, and they say it is usual siblings like us have rivalries and are at cross-purposes. We argue, we boast. But we are united in duty. And yet…

I am a monster. Blood I have shed before. I have killed, in battle and outside. Not like this. I look to bleeding skies and the snow, once white and grey, is red with blood and yellow with grease. Those whose gazes touched me are now buried in the skies. The mountains are no longer stone, but flesh and bone. What I built, I tore down. I see shock on the faces of my sons, and disgust, and anger. It is in me, too, but there is more. I am lost again. My duty, it led me here, my purpose made me do this, for I am made to kill. And yet… I am supposed to be more, and I am not. A warrior with duty is a killer, too. It means nothing, and I have been lying to myself. No war ever meant anything. No war will ever mean anything. I am nothing but a weapon and I will always be alone.

I am a monster. Before me rise the walls of my father’s fortress. Of my brother’s masterpiece. I will tear them down. This is what I was made for, to destroy. To kill. I no longer ask questions. They have no answers. All I feel is blood and the sting of explosions on my skin; their residue cloaks my armour. I lie to myself again and tell myself I feel satisfaction, gratification. It is not true. I feel nothing. I am like a piece of a complex puzzle finally falling into place and like this piece, I do not know the pattern and do not care. And this is a lie, too. Lies are all I have left.

I am nothing. I build fortresses and tear them down again. Around me, smoke rises to heavens of blinding white. Stars were a promise but they are gone now. I had something, but I tossed it away. I have forgotten what it was. Or maybe I never knew. I am more than I ever was, and beneath my tread millions are crushed. The puzzle of my existence is as unsolved as ever, the pattern shattered, and no destruction will make it whole again. I have been defeated once, but I can be defeated no longer. I can do whatever I want. I can tear the world asunder. But for what purpose? Gratification? It is empty. Iron within. Iron without. A weapon without purpose is useless. And iron unused will only rust. I had a duty once. It filled a void I had not known existed within me. It was a lie. Now, there is only hatred to fill that void. Of what I fought for, of what I fought against. Of what I was, and what I have become. I look up to an empty sky and feel it burn. Gods whisper in my ears, and war beckons. Lies. Whatever there is around me, whatever I do, it never changes anything. I am lost, and alone. Only one lie ever gave me satisfaction. Only one lie stirred my empty heart. Duty. I tossed it away. I should have known better. In a universe of lies, I failed to choose my own truth.

Words: 1076 without title
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post #8 of 16 (permalink) Old 07-12-12, 07:25 PM
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On the Nature of Duty: A speech delivered by the Chaplain Cadmus Gracchus of the Imperial Fists

905 Words

What is duty?

Each of you would give me a different answer. This is not a flaw—yet. But ask your sergeants and you shall receive one answer. There is only one true duty for us—to kill for the good of Mankind. Everything else, every other obligation stems from this one duty.

As Marines, you must live and die by this duty. As Marines, you must and you will take lives of mutants, heretics and xenos. You will be deployed over a thousand and more fronts, and there you will confront all sorts of enemies of Mankind. It will fall to you to protect humanity from them and there is only one way you can do this: to kill.

But do we have not other duties?

As naïve as this question is, you are permitted to ask yourself this. The answer is yes. You have the duty to keep your gear serviceable and clean. You have the duty to train and better yourself. You have the duty to help your comrades, to support them as brothers. You have the duty to hate the enemies of Mankind.

Yes, you have other duties, but they all serve one greater purpose: you must kill!

Do not assume you are anything more than a weapon. You were taken from your homes, your families for only one singular purpose. Once you became initiates you have cast away all other obligations, goals and dreams. Perhaps, have you not been chosen, you would have lived different lives and served the Emperor and His Imperium differently. For make no mistake—you are serving the Emperor whenever you take a life. This does not make you less, then an Adept, who serves the Emperor in the guise of the Omnissaiah or a governor, who serves Mankind by ruling a planet. It does not make you more than a farmer, who serves by growing his crops or a teacher, who serves by guiding children. Every duty is as important as the other as long as it is united in serving the Emperor’s purpose. Do not forget this.

Now, that your realize that your duty is as sacred as any other, consider its nature. Consider why it is essential. Each mutant, heretic or xeno you kill, brings humanity close to their rightful place as a masters of the Galaxy. All those aberrations from the holy human form need to be destroyed, for they offend the Emperor and so, they must offend us. We were created by Him for this very reason. We are His chosen soldiers, His weapons against humanity’s many foes. It is His will that guides our hands and our guns.

The Emperor is our Lord and to Him we swear to uphold our sacred duty. It is for Him and through Him that we learn our purpose and that we fulfill it. He demands that we kill in his name and that of Mankind. It is not our place to question His wisdom.

But is our duty only towards the Emperor?

No! Our duty is for all of Mankind. We kill to protect them, to avenge them and to free them. We are its weapons, aimed at those who seek to subjugate and destroy us. We take the fight to all corners of the galaxy, to those who turn away from the light of the Emperor and to those that seek to extinguish it.

Does this mean our duty is a dual one? Does it mean that our duty towards the Emperor can ever contradict our duty towards Mankind?

No! The Emperor is Mankind. His will, His word is what should guide us. It is implicit that what we do for Him, we do for Mankind. To presume otherwise is nothing short of heresy! Do not dare to ever think that there is a duality here!

I have said that you are nothing more but weapons, created for one purpose. That is true. You need to accept it. However, there is another facet of this truth. You are no less than weapons. A man may spend his whole life searching for his purpose, but not you—you know it. There cannot be any place for doubt in you, for you are certain of all that you are.

Follow your duty and do not question it and you will not stray.

Again, ask yourself what you will answer when asked what duty is. Consider it carefully, and consider carefully what I have said.

Your duty is your life.

Your duty is to kill.

Your duty is to hate.

Your duty is to protect and serve.

Learn those words. Take them into your hearts and make them the core of your being. In the coming trials, they will be the sustenance for your spirit. They will stave away any doubt, you may have.

Duty is the light that will guide you in the dark.

When in doubt, ask yourself “What is my duty?” Once you remember this, you will know what needs to be done.

Duty is what unites us.

From this moment on, you share your duty with all of other Imperial Fists, even your Chapter Master. We are all guided by the same purpose. When you receive orders, remember that they all stem from this one purpose. Your superiors live by their duty and so should you.

Subjugate your life to duty. Submit. In every action, seek to follow your duty.


Last edited by Bloody Mary; 07-12-12 at 07:28 PM.
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post #9 of 16 (permalink) Old 07-19-12, 02:14 AM
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Default Hi

Hey what happened to all the writers? Hello to all the new ones, but to all you retrains, common and stop slacking.

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
Other stories from Adrian.
Look up Adrian in the "Compendium" to find them. Thanks
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post #10 of 16 (permalink) Old 07-19-12, 06:50 AM
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Still working on mine. I should be able to finish in time.
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