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The Traveler
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Discussion Starter · #1 · (Edited)
Private Journal of Brother-Apothecary Altair, Aegis VII, 998.M41

The first thought.

I can't see.

Blackness surrounds my sight. I can hear. Gunfire..mostly. Explosions. A low rumbling noise. A tank, I think.

My left arm refuses to move. I can feel dirt beneath my fingers. An arm hauls me upright. My vision clears. A blackened form swins into view. Arbalan's plasma gun is smoking gently as he lends his strength to me. My armor squeals in protest as I move.

"Brother Apothecary, we are needed elsewhere." says Arbalan.

"But...Melenius." I say weakly, still trying to regain my senses.

"Dead. You were almost lost as well. That blast was of some magnitude."

I turn, taking in the sight of the war-torn fields of Aegis VII, the newest war in a long tide of wars. Fought in the Emepror's name, of course.

Melenius' body makes itself known as a black form against the dull brown of the soil. his armor is cracked open where I had breached it, trying to save him. A shard of metal is lodged in his neck seal, blood drying into a reddish stain on his armor and the ground.

I check my own suit of armor. There are some spots where the black paint has been chipped off, and my left arm hangs limply from my side. Dislocation. I grasp it and pull, popping the joint into place. My narthicium hums as it connects back to my neural interfaces. My left shoulderpad, the one with an Apothercarium symbol on it, has Melenius' blood staining it. I sadly wipe it away, only succeeding in smearing it.

Arbalan nudges me.

"We have to go, now, Apothecary. Brother-Captain Dacius is making a stand on the far side of the ridge."

I nod. "Then we go."

Arbalan shoulders his plasma gun. "You might need this, brother."

He offers my Bolter. I take it one-handed, and check the ammo levels. Fourteen shells left, plus eight clips on my bandoliers. My Reductor is secured against my belt, and three frag grenades are clipped to my belt loops. A melta bomb is hung from my backpack.

"Of course, Brother Arbalan. Thank you. Now, we go to Captain Dacius?"

Arbalan nods. "Follow me, Brother-Apothecary."
 

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The Traveler
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Discussion Starter · #3 ·
Arbalan leads me west, for about two klicks, pausing occasionally to shoot down howling Orks. I lend my fire where I can, and we eventually reach Dacius' position.

The Captain leads three Tactical squads down the slope, straight into the Ork lines. Orks are cut down like wheat before the scythe as the Black Watch are thrust amongst them by the force of the charge. Orkish blood sprays from wounds, and a severed head flies past Arbalan's shoulder, it's eyes still tracking the marines.

I quickly draw my combat knife, letting the Orks come to me, eventually gunning the entire mob down with Arbalan's help. The last survivor makes it to me unharmed, and I quickly stab the Ork through the neck. It lets out an obcene gurgle and I crush it with my boot. More Orks, a sea of seething green faces, all red eyes and yellow fangs, close on our line, a fragile thread of dirty black armor and metal. The squad sergeant I was assigned to, Vercian, beckons me closer.

"Speak laddie! Did you get Melenius?"

"No, Brother-Sergeant, I was thwarted by an artillery barrage. I have Arbalan with me."

Vercian sighs. "Ah, well. We will recover his gene-seed after we see off these creatures, eh?"

He cocks his bolter with relish. I can see he is saddened by the young Marine's death.

"Melenius was a good Marine, sergeant, however, he is not the first, nor will he be the last."

"By Corax, laddie. Soon you'll be quoting the Codex. Stay close. These Orks may be savage but they fight as well as any."

"Aye, Sergeant."

I wait a step behind the line, firing careful shots past the helmets of my brothers. Octavian takes a shot in his shoulder and I quickly pry open his armor, knitting the flesh back together, and removing the slug. Octavian sits up and continues firing.

"Brother Apothecary, if you're through rummaging around my guts, might I continue my crusade against the foul Xenos?"

"Spite, brother. Your wounds are healed."

Octavian nods his thanks and takes his place in the line.

My vox squeals like a stabbed pig, and then a crackling message emerges.

[All Black Watch! Re..rt to Broth.r Re.adi...postion. Under..eay fir..Orks.]

[Brother-Captain Dacius of the Fifth Company Black Watch, order confirmed. All functional Fifth Company, retreat to Strongpoint Reladis. Fourth Company, covering fire!]

[Brother-Captain Fulcan of the Fourth Company Black Watch, order confirmed.]

I grab Arbalan and Octavian's shoulders and we follow Vercian away from the battle. A salvo of Whirlwind rockets shriek down and blast great tides of Orks into oblivion.
 

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The Traveler
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Discussion Starter · #5 ·
Thank you. I only knew of one other book (Ciaphas Cain) that was a first person.

I'll have another part or two up by tonight.

-Dirge
 

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Yeah nice stuff going good so far 1st person is unusual but you pull it off well=]
 

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Discussion Starter · #7 · (Edited)
"Well, laddie. Seems you pulled off the impossible. Old Dragian will be pleased."

I turned at his words. "What?"

Vercian smiled. "Turns out we broke the hordes, they've been falling back all day."

"So how does that affect me, sergeant?"

"Well, laddie, the Chief Apothecary, Medicus, got himself killed fighting with the Master. So, we're sending all avalible Apothecarian to the Master's chambers to pick a new one."

My look of curiousity becomes disbelief. Me? Chief Apothecary!? A coveted title amongst the healers of the Chapter, to be sure...

"Get going, laddie! The Master's not going to wait!"

*****************************************************
Battle-Barge Aay'han (Translation: Remembrace), High Orbit, Sustenance. 220.M42

"What happened then!?" asked Magni loudly.

I shook myself from my reverie. I looked around, finding a small crowd of mismatched Space Marines had gathered around myself and young Magni. I pushed past them to look at the chrono. I had been talking for the better part of an hour. Memories of comrades long since dead filled my thoughts.

"Well, young one, that is a story for another day."

I pulled Magni from his sitting position and looked around at the crowd I had drawn. Space Wolf, Dark Angel, Black Watch, White Consuls, Raven Guard, Imperial Fist, Even two reclusive Iron Hands, nearly all bionics.

Their armor was dirty, and in disrepair. Some sported different colors on their armor, hasty repairs to cover weakened flanks. My best friend, Arbalan, strode up to me, his footfalls shaking the loose bolts from the deck.. Almost two and a half centuries before, Arbalan had been wounded terribly fighting the Orks on Aegis VII. His broken form had been kept in stasis until the Dreadnought shell had been cobbled together from other destroyed brethren. Arbalan had grown old and wise in the years, while I had grown rather reckless and attached to the warband.

"And that is why you are not a Dreadnought, Brother Altair." said Arbalan, and I realized I had spoken aloud.

"Indeed, my old friend. But were I a Dreadnought, you would not be."

As the last Apothecary able to perform Implantation surgery, I had overseen Arbalan's implantation into the Dreadnought.

"True, Altair. But also, you could not bear to go to war without me."

"That may be, my friend."

[All hands to stations, dock in five minutes.]

As one of Aay'han's senior officers, I was patched into the ship's commlink to listen in on the chatter.

[Ryza ground control, Armed Freighter Aay'han requesting landing coordinates.]

[Aay'han, this is ground control Ryza. Landing position eight-eight-zero-four, pad sixteen.]

[Ryza control, scan our holds.]

There was a pause.

[[Aay'han[/i], we show zero water and little cargo. Our city services are avalible at this time, for a fee. Would you like a resupply?]

[Most appreciated, Ryza control.]

[Ryza control to Aay'han, divert to pad eighteen, there's a resupply dump there.]

[Recieved and confirmed, Ryza control]

I felt a shudder run through the ship a moment later. We were down.

Another happy landing.
 

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The Traveler
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Discussion Starter · #8 ·
As we refuel at the Ryza ports, a call comes in over the long-range vox. Some deserted place called Threshold..but it was on the Adeptus Astartes priority channel.

[Oh, God-Emperor help us! We fought Orks..and then, they were under the ice the whole time! Please! Help us, oh Emperor help us all!]

Jaing, Aay'han's captain (and another Black Watch), nudged me. "So, what do you think?"

"We don't even know who they're fighting."

"That's why we are Space Marines, Brother-Apothecary, even though we don't follow any of the Codex's restraints."

"Very well. Ask Fredric and Demetrius before you break orbit."

[Ryza control to Aay'han, your cargo bays are filled. Credit transfer cleared.]

[Aay'han to Ryza control, pleasure doing buisness.]

Jaing turned to Tenn at the helm.

"High orbit, laddie, if you please."

Tenn nodded his affirmation and pulled the throttle back, sending a lurch through the ship as we left Ryza behind.

"So, what do you think it is?"

"Hm?"

"The things under the ice."

"Well, I don't particularly care, Brother-Apothecary, just as long as they fall over when we shoot them."
 

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The Traveler
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Discussion Starter · #9 ·
Threshold was an undescript little planet. Very small in terms of material goods and exports, but it was right on the trade routes between the Core and Cadia.

I check and recheck my weapons. Standing in the troop bay of a converted gunship made me uneasy.

Arbalan's vox-caster booms. "I know that twitch, lad. Don't be nervous."

"I'm not."

"Brother, you not only lie to yourself....."

"Arbalan.."

"Yes?"

"You owe me a good keg of ale when this is over."

A Marine next to me, a greyish tint suggesting a former Space Wolf, chuckles merrily.

"Aye, laddie. A good keg of Ale. That'd do us good."

I nod my agreement.

"Very well, young Apothecary." says Arbalan. "A keg of Fredric's finest when we return from the surface!"

The light in the troop bay turns red, and the door clanks shut. A sudden booming clank echos around the tight bay, then the sickening sensation of falling.

[Gunship Bravo wing, close to intercept.]

[Alpha reporting Ground-to-air.]

[Missile site two klicks west, birds in the air!]

[Thunderhawk's got a lock.]

[Aay'han, fire..one, fire...two! Missiles away!]

[Confirm kill, missile site. Closing on target drop.]

[ETA three seconds to weapons range, command.]

[Weapons live! Chaff! Chaff! Break! Rocket zero-two-eight, closing on...wait. Never mind. Nice save.]

A new voice breaks in on the comm.

[Unidentified Aircraft, confirm ID Imperial Encryption.]

[Encrytion zero-zero-three-six, priority seven-two-niner-delta, Marine frigate Aay'han Omega wing.]

[Processing....Ident confirmed, you're late to the party, boys.]

Sergeant Larken coughed quietly.

"Indeed we are. However, we're not here just to toast glasses and exchange gifts."

[I would expect nothing less from Space Marines.]

"We are not Space Marines, my lord."

[....What? Then how are you on the Astartes priority channel? Why does your vessel ring up as Ultramarines?!]

"We are a warband, my lord. A group of mercenaries."

[You're heretics!]

"And you will die without our intervention. Would you like to retract your earlier statement?"

[Vile traitors! I'm cutting this channel!]

"You don't want to do that. I have enough firepower aboard my battlecruiser to level that entire wretched place you call a fortress. "

[.....Very well. Landing coordinates zero-two-two-niner-gamma.]

[Gunship wing Hawken reporting triple A, north of fortress drop zone, confirm.]

[Alpha toutching down on LZ.]

[Beta closing, ETA three minutes.]

I open the comm channel.

[Omega wing, ETA two minutes.]
 

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The Traveler
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Discussion Starter · #10 ·
The little man was a study in shock as our rag-tag band steps from the Thunderhawk. I stop at the top for dramatic effect, then follow them down, my thunder hammer letting out a small fizzing noise. The Imperial Guardsman dropped to his knees as the other five Thunderhawk Gunships (and four Longsword-class gunships) settled down on the pad, each disgorging fifteen to thirty Space Marines.

"You're...not what we expected." said the man.

"We are not what anyone would." said Larken slowly.

"Why is your armor different colors than the others?"

"Others?"

"Yes, the blue-armored giants. They have an upside-down U on their armor."

"The Ultramarines?"

"Aye, that's what Montavious called them. They arrived this morning."

Larken turns to me slowly. "We might have a problem, Apothecary."

Our squad follows the man across the cratered ground of the landing pad. A loud explosion comes from the left, and an Earthshaker emplacement coughs out a fat shell. The bullet streaks over the sky and a second explosion follows.

A line of trenches slowly becomes visable against a howling tide of greenskins.

"Damn it man! You didn't tell us this was an attack! Bradon! Get the gunships airborne! Marines! Combat spread! Seek and Destroy! For our Ancestors!"

The lines of Space Marines breaks, and then grows into a loping run, and then turns into a screaming charge. Bolt shells flash past my helmet, plasma bolts and even a few las rounds scream into the orks, killing dozens at a time.

The Marines reach the trench, and immediately take up positions. The few, bloodied and battered Imperial Guard haul themselves up to the firing step. Finally, the Orks are on the back foot. The horde thins, little by little, until one Ork breaks, screaming.

"We'ze all gonna die!"

The other Orks stop for a second. Their eyes follow the fleeing Ork. Then two break. Three. Ten. A hundred. The entire horde screams off into the rapidly darkening sky.

My squad nods in approval. Sirius and Larken exchange a high-five, metal clanging.

A boltgun clicks.

I turn, followed by the rest of my marines.

A Tactical Squad of Ultramarines has all of their weapons trained on us.

"Traitors."
 

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Thank you. I only knew of one other book (Ciaphas Cain) that was a first person.



-Dirge
>> Dude, this is some quality stuff. The 1st person makes it a little more personal imho. By the by, the Eisenhorn Trilogy is 1st person. Damned good books.:victory:
 

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good stuff, very good........ when i heard Warband i immdiately thought Chaos, but never mind, it me :p

where the next bit? no keep us hanging like that :biggrin:
 

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The Traveler
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Discussion Starter · #15 ·
I won't torture those who actially read this any longer. Gave me a good laugh though. I finished this two days ago. Muhahahaha!

____________________________________________________________________________

My marines level their own weapons. I notice the field has gone utterly silent.

I flash a quick hand signal. Larken, five paces behind me, nods in my peripheral vision.

I hear a small clink.

Unnoticed by the Ultramarines until the last second, the flash-bang explodes, sending most of the Space Marines into disarray. The few brave enough fire a few bolter rounds, but they're uncoordinated. No threat. More shots ring out, and someone screams. An Ultramarine drops, bolter wounds up his chest.

"Damned heretics! Die" screams the Marine sergeant, waving a chainsword. He charges me wildly, and I sidestep his attack, tripping him. I draw my ancient Thunder Hammer, Rek'varnal (which means "One that shatters mountains, coincidently)

The Ultramarine swings a wide arc around him, wild. I simply step back, then step inside his third attack and smash his leg with the hammer. I feel bone break.

The sergeant curses and doesn't go down so I promptly punch him in his convieniently exposed face. His nose breaks and blood flows down his face. I yell for my warbad to retreat to the shuttles. The sergeant picks himself up, so I step on his broken leg and he finally stays down.

I pass Larken on the way to the Thunderhawk, his armor stained with blood, and I'm not sure it's his. He has an Ultramarines helmet attached to his belt.

"Souvenir?"

"Shame to waste it..."

I reach the Thunderhawk first, and hold onto the hatch. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. And Larken. Ten. I slam the hatch. Gunfire pings off the hull.

"Punch it."

The pilot is only too willing to comply as we lift off of the bastion, heading quickly west.
 

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Discussion Starter · #16 ·
The entirety of Aay'han's marines speed west in a flock of shuttles and gunships. Three Ultramarines Thunderhawks had followed us, but after losing two, the third broke off.

I step smartly into the cockpit, and hand a data-slate to the pilot.

"These coordinates."

He give me a slow blink. "That's registered as wastelands."

"No, it's not. I have some allies here."

"On Threshold? Why?"

"Backup plans. They landed here a week before we did."

"Alright, boss."

We landed ten minutes later, outside the remains of the Kuimeriat Bastion in the western provinces. Ages ago, the bastion had stood as a bulwark against the hordes of Orks and cultists that had smashed themselves to bloody ruin against it's walls. Now, it was used as a temporary lair for whoever decided to inhabit it.

A single Space Marine stood on the makeshift landing pad, black cloak snapping quietly from the downdraft of the Thunderhawk. A sudden gust revealed the grey-blue shoulder pad of the figure's power armor.

A soft thud sounded as the gunship touched down on the pad. A second figure walked out of a craftily concealed bunker a few meters from the edge of the landing strip. The new arrival was clad in grey-on-darker-grey armor, blending well with the ruined keep around them. It's armor was thinner than the Marine's, and it's ankle joints were reversed. Oddly, the helmet was enlongated, and a whip of armor extended from the stranger's lower back.

The drop light flashed green, and the ramp dropped with a clang. My squad stomped down the ramp, Larken practically dragging me behind him.

"Altair, tell me you've not gone soft...letting a sergeant push you around."

Veteran sergeant Lorian (Formerly of the Mountain Angels) held out a gloved hand. I shook it.

"Pleasure, Sarah."

Larken cocked his head in question. "Sarah?"

"Pity. You wouldn't know of the Mountain Angels'...manipulations to their gene-seed. I'll be happy to tell you the entire tale later. Now, we've got to plan the rest of the campaign. This is my second, Ketquelzak. You've worked with Kytharin before?"

The Marines shook their heads in wide-eyed fascination.

"Well, everything you've heard is true."

The Kytharin held out his own gauntleted hand. Once more, I shook it.

"You can call me Kale."

"Alright. You can call me Altair."

"Pleasure."

The alien spoke surprisingly fluent High Gothic.

Lorien beckoned me closer.

"The arrival of the Ultramarines is unexpected, but not crippling. We're going to hit the Orks hard in the rear lines. Right now, I have three squads of Marines, and sixty Kytharin shock troopers. Plus your support, and I can scrape up some armor from the keep's forges. All around, maybe 410 personnel, six to twenty tanks."

I nod. "Very well."

Lorien whispers something to Kale, who lets out a series of buzzing clicks. A sqaud of Kytharin storm up to the battlements to man Heavy Bolters and Lascannon. A panel of the landing pad is punched upwards and a Hydra flak tank is raised on an elevator to drive to the edge of the strip, gun tracking.

"We're all ready to roll."

"Fine. Give us a day's rest, then we'll move to take back Teklet from the Orks. We'll be within six miles of the distress signal from there."

Lorien nods. She pulls a massive power sword from a scabbard and places it between us. I put my hand on top of hers, both resting on the sword's pommel.

"For the Marines Repentant, life is a prison, death a release!"
 

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Discussion Starter · #17 ·
Teklet Outskirts, 5 klicks south of Administratum complex, Threshold.

The Longsword CC-07 gunship stopped ten feet from the ground, and opened it's side hatches. The mulitcolored riot of my Marines tumbled out onto the ground, bolters drawn. Larken (Space Wolves), Lorien (Mountain Angels), Sirius (Black Templars), Dvorn (Howling Griffons), Mikaelus (Blood Ravens), and Jaekos (Salamanders) follow me down the side streets of Teklet, followed by twelve of Lorien's Kytharin. Two Thunderhawks tear across the sky, followed by a booming crash in the direction of their travel. A pall of smoke marks the death of dozens of Orks.

We cover five klicks in as many minutes, fighting our way closer to the Administratum building. Orks seem to simply scream out of cover at us, massive axes raised. Outside the Administratum, a Looted Leman Russ belched out a massive shell, and rained bolter shells on us. Jaeknos shouldered his flamer and pulled a blocky meltagun.

Sirius and Dvorn punched each others' fists.

"A'right lads, by Russ, and the Emperor!" shouted Larken.

Each of the Marines jumped up and howled their own battlecry, charging the Leman Russ. Dvorn caught a bolter round in the shoulder, deflected by his armor. Jaeknos pulled the melta trigger and the tank lurched as a superheated bolt blew a perfect hole through it. Orks shrieked as the flesh was burnt from their bones.

"Tidy."

Jaeknos chuckled. "No thanks needed, gents, I'm sure master Larken would've been most willing to stuff his mostly useless head into the gun barrels."

"You should've been a bloody jester, laddie." Larken shot back.

I led the Marines and Kytharin across the square into the Administratum building. A huge atrium opened up in front of us.

Clink.

"Stikkbomb!" screamed Sirius, kicking the club-like grenade away and into a mob of Orks, still unaware of our presence. The mob simply exploded into a shower of gore and reddish blood, giving our armor a red tint. Mikaelus' armor remained the same shade of scabbed red, drawing a chuckle from Sirius and Dvron.

"Came prepared, eh?"

"Might as well..."

[Excellent work, team. Proceed to the rear of the complex, the Ork warboss over this area is stationed there. I'll continue to moniter the area and tell you if anything changes.]

[Roger that.]

Sirius nodded in approval. "Hear that, Dvorn? Someone thinks I'm excellent."

"Well, that makes two of you."

I had always known the Raven Guard to be silent, and rather morbid. The smattering of chapters in the warband was a different breed all together. They were silent and passive, and then they killed total strangers and blew up installations and cracked bad jokes. Not what I'd expected, of course with so many years between Aegis VII and now, I was surprised that I even remembered the Raven Guard.

"Altair? Having a moment, or can we go?" said Larken.

I shook myself out of my daydreaming. "I'm fine, let's hoof it."

Kale nudged the Kytharin brood leader. "Claw it."

The sergeant cackled. The rest of my team spread out and followed myself and LArken down the hallways to the rear of the Administratum, closer to the heart of the Xenos.

__________________________________________________________________________

Hey all, hope you're enjoying the story. Just wanted to let you know...POST FEEDBACK! I want to know how to write my next story!

-Dirge
 

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it is, i know cos i was playing it this morning :D that game is classic, humour, action and drama, where number 2? anywho, keep this thing going! it is good
 

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The Traveler
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Discussion Starter · #20 ·
Yes, it is. If you really research these stories I take a lot of my stuff out of video games and books.

-Dirge
 
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