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Fluff Competition [ENTRIES]
 
Old 12 Apr 2007, 14:36   #1 (permalink)
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Brother Nagrom -

The dust blew over the barren sea as Colonel-Lieutenant Barnes stood atop the Comm-tower of the base on staring at the horde of Living Organisms. The Tyranids looking like a moving sea of flesh, flowing just like water.

“Lieutenant! The Tyranids seem to be retreating!” said Barnes’ private, “I think we won sir!”

“Won? Ha! Don’t make me laugh private!” said Barnes sarcastically, “We are warriors of the emperor and we will not attain victory until every last one of these retched beasts are wiped off the face of this planet!” Although he made it sound feasible, Barnes knew that their job was to keep the Tyranids on the planet until the imperial Battle Cruisers arrived, even though they may win a few battles here and there that it was inevitable that the Tyranids would take the bunker, no matter the strategy they employed the Tyranids would be victorious in the end.

* * * * *

The silence was suddenly broken by the scream of the gargoyles overhead. Barnes had heard this sound before, it was the sound the gargoyles made before then unleashed their horrible bio-plasma. “Heads up everyone!” screamed Barnes over the vox, as the first wave of bio-plasma attacks hit the bunker. “I’ll be damned it I let the savage beasts take this bunker. AA-guns take down those Bats!”

With that, the sound of lasgun fire ripped through the high-pitched screams overhead. As the gargoyles were hit Barnes heard their bodies hit the side of the base and slide onto the ground after falling off the sloped roof.

“Concentrate all fire on those damn Bats!” Barnes was worried that they would soon penetrate the outer defenses but he had other problems!

Barnes could hear the loud thunder of a Carnifex stomping through the hoard of Tyranids below. Once he heard the loud clanking of buckling metal he knew the next sound he would heard would be the massive creature pounding on the base’s gate.

“Everyone! Target that damned beast, if it bursts the gate we will lose this base!” screamed Barnes as Lascannon fire shattered the shelled armor of the Carnifex.

* * * * *

Just as the Lascannons stopped firing, another Carnifex rushed the turret and ripped it clean from the base. Barnes knew that no matter what he did these bugs would take over the entire planet unless he could get rid of the hive creatures all at once…

* * * * *

The ‘fex that Barnes thought had been obliterated by Las-fire got up and started back towards the gate. “So it seems that you bugs can regenerate! Well… I’ll have to make sure your completely dead this time!” thought Barnes. Although the creature was peppered with Las-fire, it moved as if nothing had happed to the beast, as if it had simply been playing dead.

* * * * *

“Sir, the Valkyrie just arrived! We have to get out of here before…” He couldn’t get out the last words as the front gate shattered and sent a piece the gate right into the private’s location, missing him by only centimeters.

Barnes knew that unless he stopped the Tyranids here, the Valkyrie wouldn’t even leave the surface of the planet, let alone get back to the battle cruiser.

“No Private! You go, I have to stay here and stop this damn infestation before the entire planet is completely doomed!” Barnes rushed the private into the Valkyrie as he ran to the control room of the base.

“Well it seems we’ve reached our final hour old girl… Its time to go out with a bang!” As Barnes screamed these words he set off the base’s EXTERMINATUS program, a system designed to over load the base’s central energy core in just such a case. He knew that it was the only thing that could stop the Tyranid invasion.

* * * * *

As the Valkyrie left the atmosphere, the Private could only see the bright glow of a giant white orb where the base once was and he finally realized why Barnes stayed behind. He needed to make sure the damn aliens got what they deserved, Death and plenty of it!
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Old 13 Apr 2007, 14:59   #2 (permalink)
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BobTD -

Fire rose into the planets red sky. The burning stretched as far as my eyes could see. In mere moments my planet was reduced to a hell I could not recognize, and all that I could do was keep moving. My breath was short and filled with the smothering smoke around me. My family was likely dead, and I would be soon as well. The men I had been hunting with had wasted their lives confronting our attackers, they seemed like giants. Or perhaps they where not our enemy at all, either way they had wasted no time cutting down my neighbors and townsfolk when challenged.

We seemed to be caught in between a war that was not out own. A few of the bodies leading from my town seemed alien, their blue skin and twisted masks of death related no emotion I could identify.

I pulled cloth from my shirt and tied it around my neck, then used it as a mask to keep from suffocating in the smoke of my burning home. I had to start thinking, all I had managed to do was run so far. I had to –

The impact of the explosion seemed to have defied the laws of my world. Time had skipped a beat. Or I had simply not been able to comprehend what had happened from the moment where I was standing and how I hit the ground. I was winded dazed and blood filled my right eye. Something had detonated. This must have been some alien weapon. I couldn’t feel my arm, as I traced its length and bent my elbow to see if it was broken my fingers found the depression where my collar bone had broken. I knew I must be in shock, if I couldn’t feel the pain that should be there. Yet.

Head still ringing, vision lapsing momentarily, I struggled to pull myself from the earth. I heard a man start to scream and pulled myself in that direction. A strange grey almost man like creature was bent over the bodies of the dead. The screaming had faded and I wondered why I had moved towards the sound to begin with. The creatures head bobbed to the side, much like a birds to survey the bodies. It had a beak like mouth, and quills rose from its head with jewelry. But to my horror it bent its head down and began to tear flesh from a mans body. The weapon it carried momentarily forgotten hung from its side. I had a knife, and an idea.

I didn’t worry about making noise, I couldn’t hear my own movement over the crackling of burning wood all around me, the deafening explosions and distant gun fire. The weapon it carried looked life a rifle. Much like something an off world trader would have, but very few had been traded to us. I wasn’t yet old enough to receive one, but this one would be mine.

My movements swifter then I though my limbs would move, this last burst of adrenaline spent on surprising the monster, I grabbed the weapon and twisted so its straps ends tangles and swung my blade freeing it from its owners side. The creature screeched and a powerful arm sent me sliding on my back, rocks and debris tearing at my flesh through my furs. Its own speed terrifying it leapt to crush me even before I began to slow. Out of reaction my left arm slapped the ground along my side to find hold, and a shaft of wood snagged me jerking me to a halt swinging my legs and turning me around. The length of my stolen weapon greater then I could wield with one arm I used a leg to steer its shaft.

The Fire that leapt from the weapon was unlike any bullet I had ever seen. It did not wound my target. It left a hole the size of a fist in its back. Its flesh seared of where I struck. Its leap had left it farther then its target had reached and allowed me time to fire one time. My luck had been incredible. My instinct to place my only chance to shoot where I believed the creature would land had not even considered timing. I had won the favor or some great spirit to be protected in this way. But I was still in no hurry to risk my life foolishly like this again.

I rolled over, picked myself up, adjusted my face mask that had fallen out of place and went to find where my knife had fallen. I had to move on.

For the first time I realized there was not only a war in front, behind, and all around me but above me as well. I caught glimpses of a silent explosion in space piercing the darkening sky. With my alien weapon slung over m y good shoulder I raced for anywhere smoke did not fill the air.

I burst from the towns edges to find the sky alight as much as my burning town. The Stars began to show in the sky by the billions drew the outlines of evil looking vessels of the deep. They would come into view, then crack and be tore asunder, seemingly ripped apart by an angry god before exploding in a silent display that was louder then sound. The world was ending it seemed. And I knew I would likely die here. So tired, I wondered if I would simply shut down now and save myself the trouble of being killed.

Something suddenly struck my skull from behind, sprawling me flat, the tears that filled my eyes sprang forth onto the dirt red with blood from my face. As I surrounded to the numbness I heard voices, it sounded like they where arguing what over what to do with me. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to wake up, I fell into unconscious and dreamed of death.
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Old 13 Apr 2007, 14:59   #3 (permalink)
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Colonel Sanders -

The Unsung Heroes

Hours earlier, Janine had gone to the bathroom in her fatigues. The urine at first seemed warm and relieving, but as the chill air set in the liquid turned icy cold against her legs and began to itch. Janine had other discomforts. Constantly, a far off vibration knocked dust off the building’s ceiling and it trickled into her eyes, causing her to blink constantly and sneeze. Broken pieces of concrete and drywall poked her belly. Her left leg was beginning to fall asleep, and of course there was the constant chill of the city’s winter.

Hell had nothing on the city.

Janine blinked again and squeezed her facial muscles to kick feeling back into them. The draft that carried through the broken window her gun was propped against carried away any trace amounts of heat, and even her grey beanie could do little to protect her against it.

Then, suddenly, Janine perked up. Movement on the other side of the canal. With a swift motion, she swiveled her rifle and zoomed in on it. Outlined in her cross hairs, all she saw was the debris on the floor of a building. That had to mean someone had knocked it off the top floor, which had a hole blasted from ceiling to floor. She moved her view to the scorched and shattered windows of the second floor, and sure enough, there was a shadow moving in the background.

Carefully, Janine adjusted for slight windage along the canal. The crosshairs moved gently to the left, and then she centered them on the target.

Janine took a deep breath. In…

Gently, almost lovingly, Janine pressed the tip of the trigger ever so slightly, until it was almost a surprise when the rifle kicked against her shoulder. The dark shape inside the building jerked suddenly, then collapsed out of view.

Janine smiled. She had only just begun the day’s work. She’d be hunting, if all went well, to nightfall.

* * *
“GET DOWN! Get DOWN!” The bullet had entered Private Walder’s chest, smashed apart three ribs, and in the process utterly destroyed the guardsman’s vitals. Blood sprayed out at the force of the impact, leaving a fine mist in the air.

The rest of the squad was completely still, even as Walder’s life blood continued to pump out from his chest wound.

Sniper Regan Veritz twisted around and looked at the lieutenant. He wasn’t very old, and scared out of his mind. To Regan, though, this was just another afternoon patrol run.

“Where is he?” he said in a low voice. “Did anyone see a vapor trail?” Vapor trails, a common occurrence in sniper fighting, were caused by the laser passing through the air. As it did so, it super heated the water molecules in it, turning them to steam which quickly condensed into a visible trail of water vapor. Because of this, it was generally easy to spot a sniper if they weren’t constantly moving.

“No vapor. None that I could see anyways,” answered Private Veirs. Regan cringed inside. That mean it was another one of the locals firing with their crappy auto weapons… and tomorrow another 10 to 15 innocents would die because of Private Walder’s death. 10 or 15, depending on how bad of a mood Commissar Richter was in. Another 10 to 15 that would only turn more civilians into terrorists.

It was the most vicious of circles ever created by man.

“Call in a mortar strike. Veritz- you’re our man here. If you were that gunman today, where would you be?” the Lieutenant looked at the squad’s sniper.

Regan carefully crawled past the steaming corpse of his comrade. Now that he saw up close, he was sure it was a local. The long-las he himself carried would never have made such a mess. He took a look with a mirror held at an angle below the window, in order that the other snipers not see the glare. Even though he only saw the tips of each building, Regan knew which one was the most obvious. Of course, he dared not waste mortar rounds on it. This was part of the sniper trade- pick the next best spot.

“The Munitorum. That’s it for sure. He’s in there, I know it.”

“Wouldn’t it be in that apartment, I mean-“ said one of the other soldiers.

“He’s not there. I know what I’m talking about. You aren’t the specialist, are you?” The man nodded. Crackly vox words began to be broadcast in the corner, whispered coordinates and orders. Within moments, a support team blocks away loaded their weapons and opened fire.

* * *

Janine crawled back to the corner of the building to check her ammunition. That’s what saved her. One second, all was silent and peaceful. The next, it was chaos. Janine registered it only as noise, for she had closed her eyes. Her scream blended in with the all consuming roar, which was so loud it seemed to fade in her ears to a dull roar.

Then, it was all over. For a few euphoric moments, Janine believed she was unharmed. She reached back to grab her rifle, and that’s when she felt the seeping redness dripping onto the floor. Janine took a deep, pained breath, and let it out as a wrenching sob.

* * *

“Well, that crosses one off the list!” joked one of the guardsman nervously. Veritz nodded, and allowed himself to smile. He’d survived another one.

Altogether, the squad poured onto the street and moved out, a few of them carrying the corpse.

* * *

Janine felt the cold, hard steel of the rifle for the last time. She sucked in another breath, and held it. Peering through her scope, she looked at the squad that had killed her. Which one was responsible? She wondered.

Then, realization. They had a sniper, too!

Centering the cross hairs on the man’s head, Janine pressed down on the trigger ever so slightly…
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Old 16 Apr 2007, 11:49   #4 (permalink)
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Tau Killer -

[size=18pt]The Darkness of War[/size]

All but hidden by his cameleoline cloak, the young Eldar ranger crouched amongst the trees. With his sniper rifle raised to his eyes he aimed with meticulous detail, certain of each shot before he took it.
Beneath him, in the valley below were terror, fear and chaos. The humans were running and shouting. Their leaders had been slaughtered in the first few seconds of the ambush, and now the scornful ranger watched as, leaderless, they blundered to their doom.
The ranger, whose name was Elvellian, fixed his sights on a young human below him. He was running madly across the battlefield, heading for the aid of a wounded comrade. Elvellian aimed, but before he could fire, a bullet fired by one of his own comrades made its own cruel way towards the human, slicing straight through his kneecap, shattering the bone and releasing the blood to drain down on to the already much bloodied ground. Without even a hint of pity on his face, Elvellian ended the resulting scream of anguish with a shot that passed straight through the soft neck of his victim.
However, the resistance from the ground was not dead. A wild shot from the valley below shot through the trees, burying itself in a tree not far from Elvellian’s own position.
Elvellian did not even blink. Instead, speaking softly, knowing that the others would hear, even above the crash and chaos of the battle – such being the wonders of Eldar technology, he dealt with the problem with cold precision.
“Kranous. Lenyen. A small group of humans are rallying their forces behind the rock to your right. Neutralise them. The rest of you – carry on.”
His orders were instantly obeyed. A hail of fire flooded down towards the rock, keeping those sheltered behind it pinned down with fear. One human, braver than the rest, attempted to fight back, poking his own rifle above the rock. But a well-placed bullet tore straight through his eye socket and out through the back of his head, the released blood defiling his shining blonde hair, his lifeless body falling back into the company of his comrades.
The sudden whirring of tanks made Elvellian glance up. He frowned slightly at the formation of chimeras – but he had been expecting them.
“All rangers. Concentrate your fire at the entrances to the transports. Prevent as many as possible from embarking.”
They were too few to prevent the majority of the surviving humans escaping, but Elvellian smiled at the crop of fear he had sown across the field. But the smile suddenly turned to a strong frown. His eyes had detected a shimmering in the air, moving down through the trees below him. It could only be one thing.
Kranous was moving.
The others had noticed it too. Within seconds, Elvellian heard Amras’ urgent voice.
“Kranous is going for the tank.”
“Khaine,” Elvellian muttered. This was what he had been afraid of – but he could not lose control.
“I see him Amras. You and I will give him cover. He must not be detected, at any cost. The rest of you, continue with your given objective. Distract them away from Kranous’ position.”
Once again the orders were obeyed, but cold anger now flowed through Elvellian’s body.
‘If the humans don’t kill you, Kranous,’ he thought, ‘I will.’

Kranous halted at the bottom of the valley, behind a fallen tree-trunk, his cloak still rendering him invisible to a human’s eyes. Before him he saw his target. The side of the nearest Chimera. Kranous inspected it closely.
He eventually found what he was searching for. A dent in the side – evidence from a previous battle. A weakness extremely small, but a weakness none the less. With satisfaction engulfing his body, Kranous prepared to fire.
‘You wanted to inspire fear, Elvellian,’ he thought. ‘This is fear.’
He released the bullet.
The chimera exploded in a raging inferno of blazing white-hot fury to the annihilation of all within. The fragments of metal shot out in all directions, one slicing like a scythe straight through the arm of one human, who fell to the ground screaming in agony.
Exulting in his triumph, Kranous moved to finish off the wailing soldier, but in his arrogant haste, he forgot all caution. His cloak slipped – and for just a second his form was visible across the battlefield.
One second was enough. A guardsman near to the area cried out, both with fear and anger – and aimed his lasgun. He quickly fell to the ground with two bullets lodged in his body – one in the heart, the other in the brain, but the damage was done. Soon, the cry of ‘Eldar’ had spread throughout the battlefield.
Within minutes, made brave by the knowledge of their foe, the humans stormed the lower valley – but all traces of the Eldar were gone. It was as if they had vanished into the very ground itself.

Forcing himself to stay calm, Elvellian faced Kranous. They were now much higher up the mountain, far away from the clumsy, noisy searches of the humans. But the battles had not ended. Elvellian spoke first.
“Why did you do it?”
“Why? Do you not know how many humans died in that single moment? Can you not guess the magnitude of terror embedded in human hearts because of it?”
Elvellian spoke slowly, concentrating his emotions. “You killed some humans. Congratulations. When we make it back to Alaitoc, I’ll give you a medal. But this mission depended on secrecy and anonymity. We are too few to fight in open battle. We needed to remain secret. Let the imaginations of our enemy build us up into a terror far greater than that which we could ever achieve.
Our advantage was secrecy. And you have lost us that advantage.”
Elvellian took out his shuriken pistol and ran his finger gently along the smooth surface.
“The humans will come, Kranous. Because of you, they will come. But I, shall be ready for them.”
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Old 16 Apr 2007, 14:43   #5 (permalink)
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Wargamer -

Angels

I remember the day the Angels came.

I was but a boy, a slave, bound from birth to serve my lords without question. It was a terrible life, and I hated every moment of it. No, hated wasn’t the right word… it was only afterwards I hated it. Back then, eight years old, I never knew there could be any other way.

My Mother told me that I would not always live in chains. She told me that the Emperor was watching me, and that I had to show him I was brave and strong, kind and faithful. If I did that, she said, he would rescue me. I was six years old when she said that. Not long after, she vanished. I say ‘vanished’, but what actually happened was during one of the regular sessions of rape she endured at the hands of Governor Svelt he got a little carried away. She was in the Sanctum Apothecaria for three days before she died of internal haemorrhaging. I didn’t know that then, I only found out when I was twenty-three and sifting through data-files of the aftermath.

The Angels came like a gift from heaven. It was my birthday, though no-one but I would celebrate that. I’d woken up at dawn, used a stub of pencil to circle the date in my hand-made calendar, cried, wiped the tears away and dressed for another day of servitude. I stepped out of the door, expecting it to be a day like any other.

How wrong I was.

The Governor’s procession marched along the highway, resplendent in its decadence. Armed soldiers were kept in perfect step by the marching band behind them, and in the centre, born by Sevitor bearers, was a palanquin in which the Governor sat. I walked behind, stripped to the waist and shivering, the brands and tattoos I bore giving little in the way of protection from the elements. I stared at nothing, holding the banner pole aloft and keeping step. It was rather like sleepwalking. I’m not sure when it was that people started dying, but I only realised when I tripped over half of a Servitor.

Reality came in pretty quick after that. The Palanquin was shattered, guns were firing, and the air was filled with screams. I cut my hands on broken glass trying to get to my feet, and something was making my back itch. It was glass, broken glass. I hadn’t tripped over the body; I’d been thrown over it by an explosion that took out an entire administration tower. The shrapnel had liquefied the people behind me, their bodies absorbing enough of the momentum to save me. The other seven child-slaves were not so fortunate, the shrapnel either puncturing vital organs, or hitting with enough force to break them like rag dolls.

I should have been screaming, but I wasn’t. Maybe it was shock, maybe it was my latent psychic abilities keeping me focussed, maybe I was so screwed up in the head I thought this was meant to happen. Whatever was keeping my together, it was working. I staggered toward the Palanquin, and was struck numb by what I saw. The thing before me was nothing short of a god. He towered over me, his silhouette blotting out the sun that filtered down between the tall towers. His armour was a rich purple, an argent Aquila spread out upon his breast. He was magnificent, the ultimate answer to my prayers. I remember crying then, crying tears of joy at what I saw. My mother had been right; the Emperor had come to save me. I remember everything about that Marine; every purity seal, ever chip in the armour, every parchment and litany fluttering in the breeze, but I don’t remember fear. I have the power now to destroy entire worlds, to subject billions to Exterminatus, and the Astartes terrify me. There and then, an eight year old boy, I knew no fear, only admiration.
“It seems you have made a friend, Captain.”
I turned, as did the Space Marine. Before me was a man wearing form-fitting body armour, his eyes bloodshot and strained. His voice was like nails on a blackboard.
The Captain glanced at me, “one of the Governor’s slaves, Inquisitor.”
The Inquisitor smiled. “What is your name, boy?”
“Saan,” I replied.
“Do you know what I am?”
I shook my head.
“Do you know why we are here?”
I shook my head again.
“Who do you serve, Saan?”
I paused, turning to the Space Marine. “The Emperor.”
The Inquisitor laughed, and patted me on the shoulder.
“Psyker,” he said.
The Marine flexed his mighty hand, ready to draw his Bolt Pistol. “Dangerous?”
The Inquisitor shook his head. “Gamma level at most, though even now he’s displaying latent talents; regenerative capabilities by the looks of things. He could be useful…”

What followed were many years of hardship. I have seen things no man should see, gone places no man should go, endured what no man should endure. I am an Inquisitor, having served under Calise until he met a gruesome end in the Mines of Maivar Tertius. Through all I have seen and done, my faith has been resolute and unflinching, held by the simple knowledge that once I was a slave to a tyrant, a tyrant who believed himself beyond the will of the Emperor. That day will remain with me forever; the day I was taken from that life and reborn anew. That day would remind me forever that no traitor or heretic could escape His will and men such as I ensure His wrath is swift.

That day the Emperor sent his Angels of Death.
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Old 16 Apr 2007, 19:06   #6 (permalink)
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Top Bannana

True Understanding

Iron Master Vorlaz gazed out the portal at Carvon II as his ship slid into orbit. What had once been a beautiful blue-green world was slowly turning gray from the devastation wreaked by the orks, and foul clouds of pollution obscured what little green remained. Even the oceans had not escaped, having been turned an ugly blackish color by the foul ork vessels. He could see the faint glimmer that was the last fortress, where the remnants of the once strong Imperial forces gathered for their last stand.
He could envision the fighting as if it had already happened, as if he were watching a vox recording or remembering a battle long concluded. He saw the defenders preparing for their last stand, grimly readying their weapons. The orks head butted each other as they worked their way into a killing frenzy. Then the orks leapt out of their trenches and streamed towards the wall, a repulsive wave.
The years flashed by, men and orks dying, until some Warboss got powerful enough and some Mek built a big enough Gargant. Vorlaz saw the Gargant smash the walls and multitudes of orks pour into the fortress as the city burned and men died by the thousands.
"Sir," said a voice that snapped him back to the present.
"Yes," said Vorlaz, barely turning his head from the portal, but his voice carried none the less.
"The torpedoes are ready."
"Very good Sergeant. Wait until I give the order." There was nothing he could do, Vorlaz told himself. The defenders could hold out for a long time but they could not win. They would not receive any help from anyone, as Hive Fleet Tempest was stretching both the Imperials and the Iron Lords to their limits. If the orks took Carvon II, they would sweep into the rest of the sector and through the diversion cause unimaginable losses and damage in the northeastern fringes.
Vorlaz looked at his data slate. It read:
-Estimated loyalists on Carvon II: 100,000
-Estimated orks on Carvon II: 1,000,000,000
Vorlaz took a deep breath and brought to mind his only comfort: "Sometimes, the few must be sacrificed for the good of the many." Vorlaz hoped that what he would do here would make these brave fighters' deaths mean something, as well as saving other lives.
He walked to the bridge and said to the Ordinance-Sergeant, "Proceed with the Exterminatus."
The initiate nodded and busied himself with his panel. Vorlaz spoke again, this time to the navigators, "We will remain here awhile." Turning to his second in command he said, "Shut off all planet-facing view screens and close all planet-facing portals except the one in the planning room. I am not to be disturbed." Vorlaz strode back into the room as the door closed behind him.
He watched as the huge cyclonic torpedoes slid out of the ship and made their way towards the planet, slowly gathering speed. The planet would be added to "The List of Martyrdoms," the list of planets on which the Iron Lords had performed an Exterminatus. The stories of the final defenses of those planets would be recorded and their actions praised mightily. There were only eight worlds on The List, but soon there would be nine.
Vorlaz watched as the torpedoes hit the world, igniting the atmosphere in fiery hurricanes. He stood there for hours, entranced by the mighty power. He had seen cyclonic torpedoes at work on the ground (at a distance) and had no desire to repeat the experience. The noise created by the wind rushing towards the fire and the crackling of the flames was deafening. He watched as the infernos swept the globe and cleansed the enemy's main camp, situated in a vast desert, in the righteous fire of the Exterminatus. Likewise he saw the burning cyclones swallow the last stronghold of the defenders. He felt the weight of the men whose lives he had ended descend upon him, but he steeled himself and said to them, “You fought that others could have peace, and you died that others could live. You were loyal servants of the Emperor."
Then he could feel the burden lessen greatly, but it would never be gone. He himself would not allow it. He was now Triumph Exterminati, the "title" given to those who had ordered and performed an Exterminatus. His name would go down with Carvon II's on The List. Younger and older marines alike would look on him with awe, seeing him as a marine who had desolated a world. They would know it was both difficult and necessary, but they would not understand what it was like.
There were only eight other Iron Lord marines, all long dead, who understood. The phrase "Sometimes, the few must be sacrificed for the good of the many" was one of the pieces of knowledge imparted to new Captains, but he and the other eight were the only ones who truly understood what it meant.
He lost track of how long he watched. When the fires died out, Vorlaz came out of his musings and his data slate blinked, "LIFE SIGNS 0." Nodding, Vorlaz looked back on what was once Carvon II. It was now a dirty ball of ash; its oceans boiled away in the fires of purging. He slowly turned his back on the portal and closed it. When he emerged onto the bridge, his men looked at him differently. Vorlaz said quietly, "Our job here is finished. Let us return home."
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Old 17 Apr 2007, 16:32   #7 (permalink)
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Shas'o Geeky Gator

General Millitant Rickova paced outside his tent, examining his memories.

Nervously, he trotted over to the Quartermaster’s tent, letting himself in without announcement. He grabbed the Commander’s plasma pistol and powersword, with a mumble of orders to silence the lowly sergeant.
Quickly now, racing out behind the Command Chimera. Dodging inside the crew compartment, turning on the overhead light. Fumbling fingers removing a small device from a greatcoat pocket, removing the magazine. A quick reach inside, a wire pulled, a connection severed, a valve plugged.
Darting back out, scanning for witnesses. A forced, fake, slow walk to the Commander’s tent. A snappy salute, sword hilt offered and pistol holstered. Heart pounding, mind racing, moving towards the lines, struggling not to run from his superior. Fear, not of the enemy, but of the commissar breathing down his neck.
The enemy appearing. Moving into action, spraying laspistol shots. Men dying, crying for their mothers. The Commander raising his pistol, diving out of the way, a flash of white light. The Commander no longer there. Arms moving automatically, picking up the powersword and cap, rallying the troops. Praise to the Emperor, in all his might, silent prayers for forgiveness. A charge, a victory. A feeling of elatedness, tinged with regret.

General Militant Ricova took his powersword from his Junior Assistant, and holstered his plasma pistol. The man was perfectly still, his salute perfect. They marched towards the lines, his assistant one step behind him as was the norm. The enemy appeared as usual through the grey mist, and his raised his pistol. He pulled the trigger, and there was a flash of white light…
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Old 20 Apr 2007, 20:25   #8 (permalink)
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Default Re: Fluff Competition [POOLING]

40Kenthusiast
Tomb Spyder U-00X103 was incapable of excitement. After a vigil of uncounted, and uncountable, millions of years a living observer would have found the arrival of that which it had awaited all that time profoundly shocking. He would have been surprised, relieved, perhaps even grateful. This is presuming, of course, that this hypothetical living observer had in some way protected his mind from the madness which the endless eons would have brought forth.

Tomb Spyder U-00X103 had none of these reactions. It reacted to the tripping of the ELSE clause of its maintenance programming in precisely the same way as it had reacted to the IF clause's millions of consecutive trippings, with instant and unquestioning obedience.


IF ( SensorReportIndicatesPlanetBattleRatioAcceptableFo rHarvest)
{
MaintainTombComplex()
}
ELSE
{
IF(ValidateWithTombSpyders001-004)
{
AwakenLord()
}
}

Tomb Spyder U-00X103 moved itself across the blasted sands, its jets smoothly propelling its bulk through the early morning quiet. Reaching a rock outcropping it deployed gauss cutters and one of its claws, swiftly harvesting the materials required to create an escort of the silvery scarab beetles. The scarabs were dispatched with a message, and Tomb Spyder U-00X103 settled down to wait again.

Its previous wait had been measured in the millions of years, this one's duration was recorded as 9 hours, 31 minutes. The scarabs returned and were reabsored, their precious mass redistributed throughout the Tomb Spyder's armored form. With them they had brought the confirmation that the Spyder required. Tomb Spyder U-00X101 had been destroyed in a rockfall some milennia earlier, but Tomb Spyder U-00X102 and Tomb Spyder U-00X104 both indicated seismic readings and atmosphere changes consistent with Tomb Spyder U-00X103's own findings.

Several races of organized sentients had come to this world, marring its ancient tranquility. With them they had brought the universal companion of sentient life...War.

Tomb Spyder U-00X103 set out to fulfill the final phase of its programming, awakening the Necron Lord entombed here so very long ago. If it was capable of doubt it would have expressed it at this point. This Lord was untested in battle, and its forces small and equally virgin. The sentients had already established themselves across the face of the planet, and the Necrons would be in for an uphill struggle. None of these thoughts passed through the circuitry that functioned as its mind. It was not programmed for doubt. For caution, certainly. For maintenance, assuredly. For unquestioning obedience to the living Gods which it worshipped with every passing instant, unquestionably. Doubt, however, had no place in the persona placed within it by its masters so long ago.

As Tomb Spyder U-00X103 slid across the sands it noticed an indigenous creature, a serpent of some sort. For all the millenia it had occupied this area it had posed no threat, but things had changed. Spearing the creature on one of its vast talons the Spyder's mechanimind mused that it was good to spill blood again. The sowing had been long and arduous, only its fellow Tomb Spyders would ever know just exactly how long, but the Reaping was finally to begin.
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Old 22 Apr 2007, 08:20   #9 (permalink)
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Default Re: Fluff Competition [POOLING]

Ultstadt Solvek 7th Rider -

Training

Zan Nix stood amongst the group of fresh recruits, ready to start their first day of training aboard the imperial cruiser Dues bona. Colonel Mewa was going over the proper way to dismantle and clean a lasgun in case something went wrong. Most of the men were zoning out or talking amongst each other in low whispers. Zan took a look around at his surroundings. Half of the massive training deck as normal with mats laid out for combat practice and an obstacle course on the right side. The other half had been “disguised” to look like the planet they were going to land on. In reality, it looked like a giant metal room with prefab cut outs of trees scattered around. Mewa started to wrap up his monotone lecture with instructions on reassembling the weapon. Finally the speech was over. The recruits began preparing for the next exercise.

Zan slammed in to the ground behind the white fence just inside the clearing. On the other side lay the target objective, a log cabin with 2 windows on each side and a small red painted door in the front. One of the windows on Zan's side was broken and a few las burns marked the door. He peeked around the fence but couldn't see anyone inside or in the near area. He stood up and signaled the all clear. The squad emerged from the trees and headed toward the cabin. Zan hopped the fence and walked over to the doorway. Before he could open the door and head inside, las fire stitched the ground all around the rest of his squad. They collapsed to the earth. Zan dove behind a pile of logsand hid, scrunching himself in to a ball. The muzzle of a lasgun stuck itself over the pile. A moment later it was followed by a face. It smiled.

“Got ya Zany Boy.”

“I hate you.”

the lasgun fired.

Zan awoke on his cot, still sore from the simulated las round that had set off the electrodes in his helmet. Around him, the other men in his squad were waking up as well. On one side of the room, the squad they had been skirmishing against stood, all smiles.

“I liked that exercise.” Xavier Nomin, the man who had shot Zan, taunted.

“Good. Because you'll be running it again and again and again until you each succeed in taking that cabin.” Captain Leps had entered the room and he didn't look happy. Granted he never looked “happy”, he just looked particularly unhappy. Once Zan and his squad were mostly recovered, they performed the exercise again. Again Zan's squad failed. 36 times they ran the scenario until they finally got it right. They all spent another 12 hours awake and working as punishment for their failures. By the end, they didn't leer or taunt or speak at all as they fell in to their cots and passed out immediately.

Over the next 6 weeks, they went through the same routine. They'd wake up at a random time set by Mewa, then run the same mission again and again until they got it right, then work as punishment for failure, then sleep. They had few meals and even fewer breaks. Each day their failure rate decreased a little bit more until they rarely had any punishment work at all.

Finally, the day came. As the massive cruiser hovered in orbit above the planet, Captain Leps gave them a debriefing.

“the planet of Anteris IX called out for help a few weeks ago saying that an outbreak of Orks had occurred. They appear to be feral. Our job is to go in and clear them out before it spreads to far. Another Regiment, the Campos Regulars, Have landed and you'll link up with them. You'll be dropping in to a heavily wooded area. Each Platoon will be met by a squad of the regulars and led to the positions you've been assigned.” His grim face changed for a moment and he continued, “we've all worked hard over the last few weeks and I know you'll all do your best.” With that the break in his face closed up again and he was back to normal.

As the platoons got in their drop pods, Zan tried to remember everything from training. There was just so much to take in. Suddenly the pod detached from the ship and started hurtling toward the planet. The extreme force exerted upon Zan pushed everything else from his mind.

Zan watched the others as they recovered from the landing. Nomin had died and another trooper had a broken arm. Everyone else was ok and the regulars had made it to the rendezvous. The platoon started to move following the Regulars. They were traveling through a dense section of forest when a feral growl erupted from the trees and Orks began rushing them from all sides. The Regulars opened fire and so did everyone else. Zan aimed at the biggest Ork he could see and fired.

Click.

Something was wrong. He dove behind a fallen tree and frantically tried to take apart his lasgun. Why hadn't he listened that first day!? Why hadn't he paid attention!? His clumsy fingers dropped a piece and he dug it from the dirt. The shooting and screaming made a dreadful symphony that played on his nerves. What was wrong!?

YES!

A dirty refractory lens. He wiped it off and hurriedly put the gun back together. He stood and leveled his lasgun only to come face to face with one of the green monstrosities. Before Zan could pull the trigger a crude spear burst outward through his chest.

The last thing he saw were the two monsters drooling and gnawing.

The last thing he heard was the triumphant cry of the feral Orks. The last thing he thought, was that Nomin had been lucky.
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Old 02 May 2007, 02:59   #10 (permalink)
Shas'Vre
 
Join Date: Aug 2005
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Default Re: Fluff Competition [ENTRIES]

Well, Wargamer's was definitely worthy of the 1st place. Geeky Gator, your piece was nice but I think in the future you should rely on your writing skills rather than just getting freaked out. You're much better than you make yourself sound.
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