I wrote this to get the feel for a chapter of Chaos Space Marines me and my brother intend to do sometime in the future. I'd be grateful for any advice.
It all started during a campaign against a Chaos cult. Captain Raban had lost most of his company to the traitors and a demon they summoned. It had not been an hounorable battle: the heretics had turned to their Gods for support.
The Dark Gods answered and silenced the Marines' voxcasters. The resultant chaos had cost the Imperium dearly that day, but the full price had been far from paid.
Raban had treated his men like his sons, and like any good father he had grieved for them. Some would have used their grief to better fight those that have taken their men's lives, and at first it seemed that the Captain was one of them.
He had contacted the Adeptus Mechanicus and had tried to better the communication technology used by his chapter. However, he could not bring himself to trust the Machine Spirit again. Had it not failed him once? Was it not fickle? Would it not fail again?
And then, in his dreams, he heard a whisper: what if the very minds of his brothers would become one? It certainly would release them from the slavery of the Machine Spirit. He dismissed those thoughts as mere dreams, but he could not help wondering in the darkest corner of his soul: what if each and every brother could hear the others' thoughts?
In the end, he succumbed to the very forces that had such heavy loses to his beloved company. In exchange for their service, the mind's of his Brother’s were now one... and they belonged to Chaos.
COMMIT TO: Imperial Records
CROSFILE TO: Heretics/Traitor Marines/The Grief;Sons of Raban
INPUT CLEARANCE: Lord Inquisitor Hayt
AUTHOR: Interrogator Irulan
TRANSMITER: Astropath Ain In-Su
THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: An open mind is like a fortress with its gate unbarred and unguarded.
+++BEGIN VOX TRANSMITION+++
We have managed to capture one of the traitorous Marines of the Sons of Raban Chapter and have attempted to interrogate him.
At first, he only responded to our usual methods with defiant cries of: "We know where you are!"and similar (always referring to himself as part of greater whole). After several days of questioning, the Lord Inquisitor had decided to use his skills as a psyker and look inside the traitor's mind.
He only did so for several minutes and as he returned to us, he stated that he did not wish to do so ever again. After taking a moment to recompose himself, he said that the heretic's mind seemed to be tied with a group of other minds: as far as he could understand, they formed a kind of shared consciousness.
After some deliberation, our Lord had decided to postpone further questioning and instead to attempt severing this bond. He hoped that this would make the prisoner more responsive. Unfortunately, he had miscalculated.
The traitor reacted to this treatment with visible terror; his first words being: "The voices are gone! Kill me! Kill me before they come back!"
Despite our best efforts to wring out some scarp of information out of him, he continued begging for death and repeating that "the voices" would come back in a most agitated manner. We dismissed this as mere attempts to fool us on his part and continued with our interrogation.
In retrospect, we might have been mistaken.
Regretfully, we will not be able to find this out. Due to unprecedented negligence on the part of the prison warden, the heretic somehow managed to get his hands on inflammable material and set both himself and his cell on fire.
We did not arrive on time to do anything, but we did hear his last words:
"I won't let them come back."
+++VOX RECORD ENDS+++
Suddenly, the voices ceased and I was me again. I could not recall my name, but I was certain of one thing: the voices would return and again, I would be a mere puppet.
This, however, did not terrify my so much that I started to beg for death. I… I had been an Astartes and had known no fear.
"Kill me before they come back!"
And yet, now I could feel its cold claws grip my very soul. I screamed and sobbed, begging over and over for death.
"Please! Kill me!"
The people around me--servants of the Emperor?--kept talking and I felt pain, but it did not matter. I couldn't even understand what they were saying; it was all gibberish to me. The icy awareness of what would happened, if I continued breathing did not let me stop trying to warn them.
They had to kill me! With every second the voices grew in strength and I would not hold them off for long. They were too strong and I was too weak. They were many and I was one.
"Kill me before they come back!"
Once they returned, they would find this place through me...