I started writing this story a few years ago, and didn't get back to it till now. I'm not happy with this first chapter, but I think the later work compared with this illustrates some growth, for which I am happy.
The story follows the 31st Magnite Imperial Guard, 2nd Company, 3rd Platoon, 3rd Squad. The story is part of my much bigger Warhammer 40,000 story, which covers the whole Magna System (I'll post some extra info later, about the planets and basic history. I'll also include a Dramatis Personae, so you recognize the names and organizations.)
More to come later.
EDIT- I rewrote parts of this. I think it's better, but it was midnight when I wrote it, so I haven't read it over yet.
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Sergio caught the sound of his squad mate's voices, their nervous whispers ringing clearly in the dead silence. He stepped quietly through the muddy, bombed out field, till he reached the edge of their campfire.
"He's the only one, they say," came Kaleb voice. "'Nids got the rest."
"Well no shit! If not then we'd still be at the fuckin' barracks back on Domum, wouldn't we?" Saul snapped agitatedly. Sergio looked down on them, all eight crowded around a propane burner, pushing away the chocking darkness.
"They say he's cursed," Kaleb continued, leaning in and whispering to the squads - men, all garbed in the blood red armor of the Magnite 31st regiment. The shimmering of their golden double eagle insignias was dulled by the dirt and mud around them. "This is the second time it's happened to this squad and he was Sergeant both times."
No one spoke then. Sergio rolled his eyes in anger. 'Damn recruits. Scared shitless.'
He jumped down into the trench, causing his squad to jolt in fear. He waved a hand in greeting, sitting with them.
The silence was thick and unnerving. Finally the Sarge spoke.
"We called him the Swordsman."
They all looked up at him. 'Well I've got their fuckin' attention now…'
"He's the only reason the 31st is still fightin'."
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Was a dusty day, air was thick with it and ya couldn't see shit for more en a meter. Durin the drop 3rd platoon took the lead and we hit the dirt first. Deployed right in fronta the hive gates. We held the line while the resta the regiment on the walls behind us set up.
Then the 'nids hit us.
For all the fire in a commisar's belly there ain't nuthin' stalwart 'gainst these bastards. And it ain't sumthin' I can explain, no, you just have to see it. A horde a claws and teeth miles wide, so far they swallowed up the horizon. So many aliens felt like no matter how many you killed they'd keep on comin'.
Lookin' at 'em was hell for your head. Fuckin' daemons if you didn't know any better, covered in chitin and claws as long as a las - rifle. Their mouths were fulla fangs strong enough to rip through steel.
Oh, and their eyes! Blood red, nuthin but hate and rage. You know when you see em they ain't gonna stop comin till they stop movin. Put a fear in ya so all you could think was to stop em before they could sink their teeth in, to keep pushin em back. To keep shootin till the last shot and hope they run outta momentum before you run outta ammo.
So we got into formation, our five squads barely enough to cover the gate, with an even five feet between each unit. Five men in front kneeled down and the five behind aimed over 'em. The Lt. and his guard paced behind us, the Commissar with 'im, all o' the bloke's silent as death.
Then the dust blew away, and the whole platoon opened fire. That's near sixty damn men shootin away, plus grenadiers. Ain't no way you could miss there were so damned many of 'em. But no matter how many you shot down, they kept comin,' tramplin' over their dead, fillin' the holes in the horde with more n' more of the xeno filth. Just the sound of their footsteps was enough to deafen you. Even when the blasted heavy bolter crews n' artillery opened fire it was like fightin' an ocean with nuthin' save a canteen. Course, sure you could see them diein' by the hundreds, blowin' holes in their lines but they just filled them in. For every one you blow away they were twenty more, easy. Just keep shootin' was what we was thinking'.
Then it happened. A shape so big it blotted out the sun, cloakin the whole mile high hive tower in darkness. When it beat its wings, the wind blew men off their feet. Not one man dared not look up at it.
It was easily as big as an Astarte's frigate, thin and bony, covered with wicked shells, a horrible clawed tail swinging with its wings, which alone could wrap around the whole hive! It descended from the sky, wings outstretched like a god. The red sky framed it, the light pourin' down around it like a fuckin' eclipse.
Its head turned down at us, its fiery gaze filled with anger. With a mouth wide 'nough to swallow a fuckin' Baneblade, filled with teeth the size of an Earthshaker gun, it let out a terrible screech that filled every man's ears.
Then-
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"Bullocks," Corporal Saul spat, turning all the guards' gazes on him. Everyone was leaned in close to Sergio, turned towards him in curiosity. He looked around laughing uncomfortably. "I've heard of a thing like that. That's those Tyranid Bio-Titans, winged broods? Men talk stories of them. If that came way of the regiment ain't no fight 'bout it!"
"Exactly." Sarge leaned back. "But we're still here. That's my point. He's on our side." Once more, there was the silence of anticipation, as everyone leaned in once more. Finally Nathaniel, the vox – operator, broke the quiet.
"He who?"
"Ain't it fuckin' obvious? Haven't you been listenin'?" Pyr whispered in his raspy smoke ravaged voice. "The damned swordsman he was rantin' 'bout."
"S'right. He's on our side. Only reason I'm still here. The only reason the regiment's still fightin'." Sergio turned back to look at his weapon specialist, back in the dark. "Right Amendera?"
"Yessir," she said, glancing around nervously. Her eyes were wide and filled with paranoid fear, and she clutched her grenade launcher to her chest till her nails bled. She shifted, glancing around at faces as though each was a threat, taking a breath to speak.
"Alls same as Sarge tells it… See, I was with 1st Company then, 'n we 'ad th' balconies on the skyline's welded up tight, 'n the Colonel 'n his gang was up given the big preach to the thugs y'kno?"
The others exchanged looks of vague confusion at her terms, but didn't interrupt.
"I remember 'ere's one thugs 'n he's lazin' 'bout near where's the Colonel, who's all with him 'n his crew a'n they gots a look on the whole battle right? 'N all you know one second they's all firin' away, 'n th' next they's exhaust fumes, yeah?
"But there's this guy an' he's gota High Hiver look to 'im, and he's gone all chargin' out at the xenos. Wit' a sword, no less."
As the other troopers tried to decipher he low-hive dialect, she sat back, looking distant again.
"An' he killed, he did."
"With just his sword?" Nathaniel asked, skeptically.
"I've lost my squad twice to these xeno bastards. Ain't my curse I'm here today, though. It's my blessin,' that it is. That we're still here doin' our duty, and he's watchin' over us."
As the night went on, the newest recruits finally drifted to sleep, minds somewhat at ease knowing that in the battle to come, they had some kind of safety net, something or someone watching over them.
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Down the trench, amidst 6th Platoon's sleeping forms, a single man lay awake, watching the stars with lackadaisical disinterest. He yawned tiredly, mind entirely free and unworried. He'd listened with some humor to the story the Sergeant had told.
But he'd been at Hive Victorious, as well.
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Trooper Marco Huetella had taken his dream with a grain of salt.
He knew the dangers of the warp, and he knew sometimes men saw whatever they wanted to see. But he also knew that going to the Commissar with messages like 'the Emperor visited me in a vision last night,' lead either to executions or a frontline position, neither of which he wanted.
So he quietly went through the drop, and then, as he was with 1st Company at the time, set up on the balconies with the Regimental Staff.
All he had to do was wait. That much he knew. In his dream, The Emperor had undoubtedly come to him, he knew. He wasn't one of the religious freaks that seemed to be so few and far between, but how could he argue it?
It hadn't been an angel, or the golden armored beauty, the Godsend he'd been taught to serve. It was just a voice in the dark. It had told him he would face great adversity soon, and somehow the message was clear.
The Emperor wanted him to fight. Suddenly, as he woke, everything fell into place. For those few minutes he was utterly happy, because he could see everything in all directions in time. Everything fit.
So he was going to do it. As the brood of Tyranid Gargoyles swept over the officers, dragging them off into the air, screaming, he stepped forward, pulling his sword.
Without a thought he charged off the Hive side and into the air as the beast, the xeno thing, the winged bio-titan rose to face him, on mighty leather wings, its maw gaping and black and insatiable…
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For some reason, Marco found it odd he'd been afraid. Now he knew he hadn't been meant to die there. He stood and stretched his arms lazily.
So the long and short of it was he fought the thing into the ground, fighting like he never knew he could. The Emperor had chosen him for it, so how could he have failed? Back then he would've scoffed at a statement at that, but…
But now he knew better, he figured, twirling specks of crackling light about his fingers to pass the time. He was a psyker, now, and though he longer saw time laid before him, he felt so much bigger, but at the same time so much smaller. He felt he was really a part of the Universe.
Marco stepped carefully over the sleeping bodies, smiling carefully. He had a question before him, now. Had the Tyranid been the fight the Emperor meant for him? Why was he still alive to fight? The question was serious, but he met it with the no sense of urgency.
He could leave, if he wanted. The guard couldn't really stop him. He could go back to his family, his home, and just love life till he got bored…
He looked back then. The sergeant's message had been a little overblown, but maybe he was half right.
He'd be watching.
