Eternal War
A Short Story based on the Table-top game Warhammer 40,000
By: William I. Dragoner
Writers Note:
I am a huge fan of Warhammer 40,000, I read almost all the books written about it, I play the tabletop game; I even have the newest computer game! So I made a decision to try and write a tribute, in honor of this great fictional universe!
I hope all fans like me find this a entertaining read, true to the heart of the game, and for newcomers to enjoy the story, and walk away with a feeling of not wasting their life's in read my dung story.
Thank you for your time. Now to the story!
W.I. Dragoner
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The wind howled, the trees danced with the wind, another dance of nature, the lake could be heard singing to no one in particular, chatting in ancient runes that were lost on all but the most ancient races in the galaxy. A rare moment for the planet of Diesforga, especially with a war going on.
‘May I join you, brother?’ a deep booming voice asked him. Scyrus glanced behind him at the Chaplain of the company standing, fitted in full power armor, the Chaplain was a freighting sight indeed.
His helmet had been designed that a leering skull filled his face, so the Chaplain looked like the God-Emperor’s vengeance incarnate. The Chaplains bolt pistol laid its holster, waiting to delver the Emperor’s justice to these heretics, though his mark of office which he held in his right hand, the Crozius Arcanum mace, that would slice through tank armour was not activated at this moment to conserve battery life, he would need each spark from the power mace with the cultist legions out there.
‘It would be an honor, Lord-Chaplain.’ Scyrus replied, turning back to cleaning his customized bolter, a shorter, more packed version, which allowed him to fire it in one hand. That’s why he had two, of course.
The Chaplain sat down at his left, his Crozius Arcanum resting now on his lap. ‘I can’t have you calling me ‘Lord’ not Brother-Scyrus. Only the Emperor reserves that right.’ He spoke in deep gravely tone, as if he lived hundreds of years deliver the Emperor to the godless.
‘Of course Brother-Chaplain, excuse my slip of touge.’ Scyrus muttered under his breath, he forgot how zealous the Chaplain was in the Cult of the God-Emperor.
The Chaplain brushed away the matter with his massive armored hand. ‘Faithful servants of the Emperor need not to fear his Preachers wrath young one. I have to maintain, and feed my zeal for the upcoming battle.’
‘And besides, the wind makes itself heard, the trees dance in its wake, and the lake dreams of a past long forgotten. We must enjoy it, and learn we are fighting for more then the billions of human beings in the Imperium. Without this need to protect His realms, the Imperium of Mankind would have fallen long ago.’
Scyrus agreed with the Chaplain, but still Scyrus felt distracted, as if he should be doing something else then chatting with a aging relic of the Wraith Stalker Chapters past.
Scyrus changed the subject ‘What is the news of the upcoming battle? The cultists have no where to go, we cornered them here, and so far we have kept a low profile that the Imperial Guard do not even know we are here.’
The Chapter was a mysterious one, it called little to any attention to itself, choosing to stay behind the screen, doing the dirty work of the Imperium, while others took the credit. They could have it; Space Marines of the Wraith Stalkers did not need praise, just a sense of a job well-done.
The Chaplain sighed, as though many have ask them this question before. ‘When though I am old, my mind is still, if not sharper then ever. The Force-Commander will tell you the battle plan when he thinks you need it.’
Force-Commander Jeglous usual loved a complex battle plan, which would earn them total victory in a ruthless manner. It was a known fact Jeglous wanted his name in the Book of Legends, kept by the chapter to record, and remember the old hero’s of the chapter. Though Jeglous’s personal gain was not needed right now, they needed a real Commander who could fight on the front lines with his Wraith Marines.
Scyrus grunted at the Chaplains rebuke, knowing he was be told in kind words to drop the subject. He continued cleaning, and adjusting his bolters sights, when the Chaplain surprised him with a awkward question.
‘What are your plans for the future, young blood?’
Scyrus brain momentarily shut down. Plans? He had no plans expect to fight a die for the Emperor, and for the trillions of men and women that counted on him to not be disappointed. ‘E-excuse me Brother-Chaplain? Plans?’
The Chaplain gave him a icy glare that Scyrus could see through his green-tinted eye-pieces.
‘Don’t be coy with me, all marines must make the choice of their path after their tenth campaign, and from my count, this will be your last one as a common Tactical Marine.’
Scyrus gulped, both of his hearts beating fast, though he quieted them with a thought.
‘Well, I suppose I never really thought about it, I always kept my mind on the upcoming battle.’
But the truth was that he did think about it long and hard. He had no the snipers eye for a Scout Sergeant, or the heavy weapon welding for a Devastator Marine, nor the close combat role of a jump-packed equipped Assault Marine. He had no psychic talents, so he could not walk the path of the Psyker. And had no extra-ordinary skill with technology to become a Techmarine. So subconsciously he assumed he would shoot for Tactical Marine Sergeant.
‘How short-sighted!’ laugh the Chaplain, his gravel tone echoing across the lake. ‘Ever other Wraith marine I asked, talked hours upon hours on their choice with me, but not you I see…’
Scyrus was a little disappointed in himself, so he bowed his head and picked up his other bolter to clean, he chatted the Prayer of Cleansing and striped the bolter down. The Chaplain watched him work for a long time before saying.
‘How about a Chaplain?’
Scyrus froze. A Chaplain? He had not even dared to hope to join that sacred order that protect the Laws of the Emperor, and gave out his justice to the xeno aliens, and the heretics of the Dark Gods.
‘A Chaplain, sir?’
The Chaplain nodded roughly. ‘You show a zealous side of you in war, attend to your prayers no matter how busy you are, or where you are. And you can inspire men, I have seen it when Tukos and Fober went at it in the mess hall, you broke them up single-handily and showed them the foolishness of their actions.’
There was a pause while Scyrus considered the ancient Chaplains words.
‘Think on it Scyrus, I need someone to replace me when I am gone, and you are the best I have ever seen to take me place. I feel my end coming, a quiet whisper that my death is near. But rejoice, I have done my small part to the Emperor and his Imperium. Please think on it, and come back to me.’
The Chaplain stood up and left Scyrus to his thoughts. This did not get the chance to examine the possibility.
The howl of artillery shells broke through the wind, destroyed trees. And the lake wept for the dead…
