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 Posted: Tue Mar 21, 2006 7:17 pm
Nice, Lethal_Bullet.
Good read, good read.
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Posted: Wed Mar 29, 2006 7:23 pm
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Posted: Wed Aug 09, 2006 5:38 pm
----intro----
The tube open and out stepped the experiment. It was a perfect success! The transition from simulated imput to reality hadnt fried its brain as had happened to all of the other tests. The experiment opened its mouth then closed it suddenly. It then opened its mouth once more and spoke. Its commanding voice formed the words "where is my armour? Who are you?". Then i noticed the eyes. Dark whites and blazing pupils stared through my very core. The world stopped and I knew that this was what we had never dared dream of. A perfect blend of command and ferrocity. A natural soldier.
The council of Aun looked upon their newest creation, slendid in the sleek MK III firewarrior armor. they relealized that this warrior was not going to be a mere foot soldier long. As this thought spread, Aun'va asked him "what purpose do you serve?". He remained silent a moment then replied "the only cause worthy of support or loyalty is the greater good". Aun'Shi asked him "what is your duty?" he answered without a millisecond's pause "my duty is to strive for Tau'va and protect those who strive for it through peaceful lives" Aun'va asked him "what is Tau'va?". He replied "Tau'va is the state of perfection, a greater good."
Burning Gaze looked upon his squad assembling on the parade ground. they stared at him as he came out of the building, his odd armor and Aun insignia a complete mystery to them. he called them to attention throught the tac net. they snapped him a salute and formed for inspection. their formation was perfect. their armor was not as good as his, but it was the newer MK II. The devilfish they were had been waiting for dropped onto its pad as he arrived.
The tac net broke his meditation on the first day of his "real" life. they were at the destination point and it was time to board their devilfish for loading and launch. It would be a good day for the Tau'va.
----Planet Fall----
The Manta slid into the atmosphere like a sword into a velvet lined sheath. The squad exchanged equipment for a final check while they could still change out bad weapons. All but his.
He wished he had a spare but with the masive demand for rail rifles he was lucky that there were two of them in his squad. He wished their were more. It was his one problem with the squad. Not all of the shas'la who qualified for them got them. In fact the whole squad qualified. That was an oddity. He thought that every fire warrior had met the council. That made him stand out. His weapon made him stand out. There was only one other rail rifle in his squad.His armor made him stand out. His insignia made him stand out. He was unique. A new breed. Alone. Mon'tau.
This dangerous thought was instantly suppressed. He could not afford to draw attention to himself again. His position as Aun'shas'ui was tentative at best. If anyone knew he doubted himself he would lose his chance to prove himself before he got it. He could not allow that. It would be a loss for Tau'va in his mind.
The equipement check was over before it regestered. His mind came out of its deep thought only as the anti-grav field engaged. His first true engagement.
to be continued (tomorrow?)
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Posted: Sat Nov 03, 2007 12:53 pm
I am hoping to post up more chapters of this story but i am a tad tied up at skool atm. enjoy
Chapter One
Kayvaan Shrike shot over the oil barrels as Ork Shoota Boyz fired wildly in his direction. Bullets clanged off Shrike's reinforced power armour as the blinding flash that was he, sped furiously toward the Orks. Only feet from them, blood splashed over one side of Shrike's helmet as his Wing dropped in from above on the Orks; attacking, always attacking.
Joining the carnage, Shrike ran the Orks through with furious slashes of his lightning claws, leaving a trail of writhing Orks and disembodied limbs in his wake. Shrike ordered his Wing to disengage so he alone would be the one to inflict the death of Gazgkull Uruk Mag Thraka, the Ork Warboss.
As his Wing disengaged, he began to inspect the bodies of the Shoota Boyz they had just so easily slain. Shrike recognised one of them as a guard that he had seen wandering around his WAAAAAGH's compound earlier that day. While searching his body for vitals, hoping to revive the Ork for questioning, Shrike heard the unmistakable clangs, buzzes and whirrs of the Ork Warboss's mech suit. Carefully choosing his ambush point, Shrike wandered into the mist..........
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Posted: Thu Nov 29, 2007 10:13 am
Two interesting reads Jeoc and deamon. Will you be posting more ?
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Posted: Sat Dec 08, 2007 2:29 am
hopefully yes. im just trying to come up with a bit more
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Posted: Tue Jun 24, 2008 4:12 pm
Here's something. I'm writing my Chapter's story from the very beginning. This will be I guess Book 1. This is only the opening part of it, but it's not finished yet. Tell me what you think.
Book 1: Drink to Sanguinius- The Birthplace
Dust kicked up beneath the caravan’s feet. They were completely covered in blankets from head to two, keeping the sharp wind and razor sand from their fleshy bodies. Only one stood openly against the massive barren desert that they called home. He was only five feet seven inches at most, but was built bigger and tougher than any other man in his tribe and on the planet, Baal Secundus. He was meant for the war, but he only wanted to stay with his people. Looking overhead, the young man watched Baal Prime drift from where it once laid rest. Now, it disappeared behind the apocalypse desert once known as Baal. He looked away, disgusted by the planet and looked onward, his eyes covered with dark-tinted goggles.
The wind whipped around him once more, sending scratches and small cuts all over his unprotected face and forearms. The only protection on him was a thick shirt that reached his elbows, a small scarf around his mouth, and brown cloth pants. His boots were black and war-torn, since he stole them from some passing ex-soldier from the tribe near theirs. It was a dog-eat-dog world and he wasn’t going to die or lose so easily.
“Archael!” a rough man’s voice beckoned him.
Archael turned and looked back through the dust to see an old man shuffling up to him. He looked feeble as anything, and yet he still managed to live on one of the most deadly planets in the universe.
“Yes, what is it?” Archael questioned the man.
As the man got closer, Archael observed a large cut up his arm, getting more and more infected by the second in the storm, and rushed to his side to aid him. The old man shook his head and pointed to one of the back carriages, just in time for Archael to see it being thrown over on its side. He left the man and unsheathed a long, serrated knife from his belt.
The Fire Scorpion roared in anger as some of the men launched make-shift spear at it. One stuck in its tail and it lashed out, stabbing one through the chest uncleanly. The sand turned red beneath his feet as the life was drained out from him and his soul was ripped from him. The lasts words that left his mouth were, “For the Emperor.”
Unfortunately, surviving on Baal Secundus wasn’t meant for the emperor at all. It was because they had no other place to go.
Archael leaped onto the carriage and threw himself on top of the Fire Scorpion’s gigantic head. It thrashed and reeled back, attempting to throw Archael from his back. In several swift strikes Archael sliced his way into its carapace. Suddenly, the Scorpion whipped its tail at Archael, knocking him from its back. As Archael lay in the sand, he watched the monstrous creature lumber towards him. He began to roll on his side suddenly as the Fire Scorpion began to lunge its deadly stinger at him. One shot, even in the arm, and the poison would kill him almost instantly.
Suddenly Archael back-flipped from his position on the ground and stood face-to-face with the Scorpion, eyeing it down. In a blink of an eye, Archael was on top of the Scorpion yet again, stabbing it in the back. Its tail lashed out again, but Archael had learned form the last time. He hopped up about one and a half feet in the air, sending the tail underneath of him. When Archael landed, he flipped the knife backwards in his hand and slashed it deep within the Scorpion’s eyes, purple blood spewing from the deep gash in its face.
The scorpion fell hard upon the ground, and Archael leaped from its back, triumphant. A few of the men cheered, but most clapped him on the shoulder and went to work flipping the Carriage back right-side up. As Archael sheathed his knife and began to stroll over to the carriage to provide assistance to the men, the Scorpion began to stir. It rose suddenly, and lashed out at Archael in lightning speed, as if he was trying to bring Archael to hell with him. Archael only had enough time to turn and watch his fate head on.
Like the sound of thunder, heavy slugs pounded through the Scorpion’s carapace, creating tiny explosions within its head. It flew about twenty feet to the side of Archael and twitched for several moments. Out of the dust emerged five immense soldiers, all in blood red armor. Archael could just barely make out two yellow blood drops on their right shoulder pads and the mark of the Blood Angels on their left shoulder pads. One of them strolled calmly over to the Scorpion, put his foot on top of its head, and crushed it like a bug.
Most of them carried bolters, with bolt pistols and chainswords attached to their hips. The one, whom Archael believed to be the sergeant, had a power fist on his one hand. The sergeant walked over and unhooked his helmet, allowing Archael to see his face as the others immediately walked over and walked around the carriages, not offering any assistance, only watching.
The sergeant didn’t extend his hand in greeting, he didn’t smile, and he didn’t look too friendly.
“Sergeant Garsius of the 6th company.” he began in one of the most battle-torn voices Archael had ever heard, “I’m here to escort the one named Archael to ‘Angel’s Fall’.”
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