Praise the Emperor – but pass the ammunition
From the recorded letters of Guardsman Thomas (Praetorians, company B) to his brother in Supply Section .Inquisitorial file no,1534/a/888, seized for ongoing investigations into the effect of the so-called Legion of the Damned on psychology and morale in the ranks.
We'd been assigned this frothing madman. You know the type, Mac, a real honest to – well, I'm not too sure about the goodness – grade A class one lunatic. He starts every day with long rambling prayers to the Emperor. Well, you know me – I'm no heretic, but you can get too much. I'm as loyal to the blessed Emperor as anyone, but after a couple of days I'd had Him up to here! Old Grundy-Guts (I think his name was brother Gerontius but he never got called that) even had sergeant Teague flogged for saying "Emperor's teeth!" to him – taking the blessed name in vain or something. I tell you this to give you some idea of the man, and how much we all detested him. Not that I objected to Teague getting a flogging – he's not so kind and gentle himself – but it's the principle. Hey, you're not supposed to be more scared of the religious advisors than the enemy, are you? And we never knew what he'd do next, who he'd pick on as a sinner. Emperor's tears, we weren't even sure what he regarded as a sin until after he'd had an apoplectic fit over whatever it was!
Anyway, I digress; we were in this fort, holding it against an expected small incursion of chaos. Someone had been reading the Tarot and made a prediction based on what they'd seen. Well, they got it wrong. There wasn't any small incursion of chaos. It was a ruddy great BIG incursion of chaos. Noise marines – the works. Like I always say – the Emperor might show the future through the Tarot, but it don't mean the idiots doing the readings get the interpretation right. I mean, stands to reason – all that praying addles the brains and destroys the intellect. You needn't mention to anyone I said that, though. So, there we were, holding on, desperately trying to carry out orders and hold the place until reinforcements arrived – and old Grundy-Guts is exhorting us to make a sally and charge the whole ruddy Slaanesh army. I ask you, what a loony – and it wasn't in our brief anyway. We were losing enough people just trying to hold – not to mention losing body fluids from sheer terror if you get my meaning. Try telling that madman though – he'd just shot our captain for refusing to make a charge. That was when those big guys in the black power armour turned up. Just arrived – no fanfare, no noise, one minute we were alone in the tower, next minute there they were! It was eerie – all these silent fellas, their armour all over skulls and bones and flames. I might've soiled myself if there'd been anything left to come out, but they opened up on the chaos marines, and even the noise marines fell right back. It was one hell of a barrage, even for Space Marines and they ain't weedy. But this didn't suit old Grundy-Guts, oh no! he goes up to their sergeant and starts frothing and screaming, something about needing no aid from heretical phantasms and being ready to die for the Emperor (WHERE do they recruit these nuts?). Anyway, their sergeant just looks amused. At least I THINK he looks amused – it's a little difficult to tell through the rictus he wears as normal. Then he speaks – and it's like his voice comes from a long way away. No, that's not right, either – more a long TIME away. It's very thin but it carries; it carries all the way down your spine.
"Ready to die for your Emperor? I already have!" he says. Then he grins, and it's not pretty. "But as you're so eager, I think we might arrange that. Better than killing these poor guardsmen needlessly, isn't it?"
That's the last I saw of any of them close to. They just shimmered – and went, Grundy –Guts too. They reappeared out there – where the chaos marines were – and started hacking them to pieces. I didn't see Grundy-Guts amongst all the power armour, but I did hear a scream that sounded dreadfully like his voice. We just got real awestruck watching, y'know? These dead guys beating the hell out of the chaos – it was a miracle. The chaos army screaming and dying, trying to pervert the attacking black tide with their foul perversions. But our new allies were unmoved by these vilenesses and they just kept attacking. Silently. I guess that was what was so weird – that the chaos was making all the row, and our guys were totally silent. It was almost – don't laugh – as though they were driving back the noise marines with a – a WALL of silence. You almost had to be there, I guess, to know what I'm talking about. Surely we were saved, and the whole planet too, by those dead marine warriors. They came in the nick of time. And I say, that's the power of the Emperor, sending practical help to us ordinary types, not some smelly inadequate droning prayers and urging us forward to die for his ego. Praise the Emperor and long live – or whatever – the Legion of the Damned!
Guardsman Thomas plainly regards the intervention of the Legion of the Damned as a beneficent intervention on the part of the Blessed Emperor. although his manner is flippant (we must remember that guardsmen do not have the same benefits of religious instruction that the Space Marines or the ecclesiarchy have) he clearly has faith in the Emperor if less so in His servants; we recommend clemency. Moreover, guardsman Thomas may be able to add significantly more to this brief account if questioned and should be considered a valuable resource since his descriptions are clear if rather fanciful and grammatically inept. – Inquisitor Quaestus, 5143625.M41, Marcellus-4