Redemption Of The Fists, A Sgt Wenzel story
| Desert Rat |
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Sergeant

Group: Squaddie
Posts: 165
Member No.: 201
Joined: 7-February 05

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The schematics for the rig indicated only one route from the landing bay to operations, a corridor fifteen feet wide and two hundred feet to the security post of operations. Strobe lighting from the flickering emergency lights gave the corridor a surreal feeling. Trash and debris littered the way and an occasional small arms burn mark showed on the walls.
Franz and Karl were on point as fire team Wenzel made their way towards ops. The other members of the team held their weapons at the ready but made sure not to "pan" Franz or Karl as they traveled.
Fire team Adalbert followed the first team by twenty feet and took up combat spacing. Adalbert stayed in the middle of the team and monitored his auspex continuously.
"Security post forty feet, Adalbert hold position and cover in 20." Wenzel toggled his squad bead.
The corridor began to open up as it approached the security post. The post had large plasteel windows and firing slots facing down the corridor, and double locking doors that lead into a detention cubicle and a set of double doors to the right that lead to the cell block elevator and the mine. Plasteel and glass littered the floor in front of the doors and into the security room. Small arms scoring and slug marks from auto guns were visable all around the doors and walls of the post.
Wenzel checked his auspex, but it was negative for heat or motion. Motioning to Franz he slung the auspex and the fire team began to clear the opening. Karl and Franz moved in side by side slicing right and left and made sure nothing was in the shadows. The others quickly followed and moved into the security room.
Emergency lights were flickering in this room as well and gave the illusion of movement but it was as still as a tomb. Wenzel's team quickly cleared the main room and waited for the second team to enter the cubicle and clear the corridor to the cells.
Surveying the room, Wenzel saw where the security personnel tried to barricade themselves inside. It looked like it didn't help them, the doors leading into the room from operations were caved into the security room. Whatever got them came from inside operations not from the mine or the cells. Blood and gore were evident in the security room, but again no bodies were left.
"Elevator door secured, heading back to security, Adalbert out." Nestor and Jurgan began clearing the other doors in the room while the others covered the doorway into ops. Closets and storage rooms were all that they found. The armory was empty except for a couple of smoke/cs grenades and some shotgun shells. All of the cogitators, pict slates and other equipment in the room were smashed to pieces.
Wenzel got the all clear from Jurgan and a combead toggle from Adalbert. "Franz,Karl up to operations. Adalbert same line of march." He checked the auspex again as the lead elements of his team moved out. No heat, no movement. "Orks don't act like this." he thought to himself as he followed his team.
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| Desert Rat |
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Sergeant

Group: Squaddie
Posts: 165
Member No.: 201
Joined: 7-February 05

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Everything was dark and still. Small droplets of water fell into pools at regular intervals like a clock ticking. No other sound distrubed the mines, and then a vibration. It was very faint but there it was, a distinct vibration. Just a trace, and yet it was enough to awaken it.
Patiently it waited and then there were more. Very slight, but it knew what the vibrations meant. An end to its hunger. Slowly it stirred from its resting place and surveyed its surroundings. It felt the prey moving far above. Nothing was in the air except its own markers. The chamber was black but its eyes didn't need light to see.
Following the source of the vibrations it slowly made its way to the elevator. Bones crunched and split underneath its feet as it made its way. It didn't "feel" them, only the vibrations. As with terran apes and toraxian squirrels it had a rudimentary ability to use tools. With one of its limbs it closed the elevator doors and pushed the buttons to ascend.
LAUNCH BAY--MINING RIG 103
"Xavier, head back inside and activate the vaccum oscilator. I want to make sure this weld is going to hold." Horst moved on to the housing as Xavier made his way into the Phoenix. His marine sense's told him something was wrong. There was a noise where one shouldn't be. He stopped with the welding and looked around. The servitors were still scanning the empty bay, swiveling targeters and weapons for any movement.
"Here it goes," his combead crackled as Xavier warned him. Sparks exploded from the vaccum housing as the oscilator was activated. "Shut it down, Shut it down!" Horst bellowed to his second. The servitors were momentarily distracted by the shower of sparks coming from the thunderhawk and didn't notice the mine elevator doors open slightly.
The explosion caught Horst completely by surprise, but being a marine first and techmarine second he collected himself quickly. The frag grenade left by the scouts to secure the doors crumpled one of the them. The door took the brunt of the explosion and saved the occupant of the elevator. What came streaking out of the elevator was a nightmare made real.
Heavy bolter servitors reacted and began firing towards the thing. Heavy bolter rounds drilled through ore carriers and blasted apart crates. It was incredibly quick, a moving shadow in the strobe lit bay. Xavier took control of the Phoenix's heavy bolters and swung them around to fire on it. The landing bay was turned into a chaotic and thunderous whirlwind. Horst had picked up his bolter and began sending rounds down range, always getting close but just behind the shadow.
This prey was different. Faster, quicker, and deadlier than its last prey. Their scent wasn't of fear. It needed time to think, it needed to get away. Shifting from cover to cover it streaked to the open doors leading to operations. Heavy bolter shells chased it up the ramp.
Horst eyed the ramp and then the mine elevator doors "Horst to Wenzel..."
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| Major of the 58th |
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Captain

Group: Squaddie
Posts: 640
Member No.: 1,433
Joined: 20-August 07

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Why didn't I see this earlier?
Nicely written. I recognise your 'suspense' technique but you've fallen into the same trap as I often do; namely, making your description of the dread enemy in the dark too vague. While we're obviously not supposed to be able to visualise this creature, it wouldn't hurt to include little hints. Mentioning your monster's "Rippling, translucent chitin" or "Flexing, spittle-slick mandibles" allows us to form a mental picture without getting the whole image. But I've done it too.
If I've another criticism, it's that these Space Marines sound a bit toolike professional soldiery. Bear in mind that they're far more like monastic orders of space-knights than they are modern human security forces, which is what they sound like here. If that's your image of the Space Marines, then fine, but I have always imagined them with grandiose, florid language interspersing their vocabulary.
Don't get me wrong, those are details. The majority is interesting, keep it up.
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| Desert Rat |
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Sergeant

Group: Squaddie
Posts: 165
Member No.: 201
Joined: 7-February 05

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MALOR VII......... POPULATION....15,000,000 TITHE GRADE.....SOLUTIO PRIMA AGGREGATE.......700 AESTIMARE.........F400-G800
Malor VII under Ork infestation of Warlord Grimtuf Ironhide. Planet and system considered lost. ********************************************************************
The roar of the crowd was deafening. Orks and grots were barking and hooting at the fighters in the pit. Wagers of teeth were made in the upper levels, while shootas and stabbas were wagered in the lower part of the arena. Herders were hawking squigs on a stick to anyone with enough teeth, and the fungus beer was flowing.
Devin thrilled at all of the noise and confusion. The adrenelin rush of life and death combat coursed through his veins. He was small by Ork standards, but then almost any human is. The grots in front of him fanned out to form a small crescent around him. He kept his spear pointed at the lead orkoid. His homemade armor was crude but fit tightly and wasn't too heavy. His helmet closed except for his eyes.
The lead grot made stabbing motions towards Devin as the two others tried to get behind him. The boy timed his attack and lunged forward with the spear acting as a one handed long sword. The point skewered the unbelieving grot in the stomache. Ripping the point out of its belly Devin swung the spear in a wide low arc behind him. The second grot saw it coming, however the last one didn't. The spear tip sliced through the unfortunates neck almost severing it's head from it's shoulders. The young warrior swung the spear again and reversed the head and struck behind him pinning the first grot again, this time in the chest. The orkoid slowly slid off of the spear and landed in a heap onto the sandy floor.
Looking intently at his last opponent Devin saw slavers pushing the wimpering grot back into the pit. Calmly he took off his helmet and dropped his spear. The grot sensed a trap, yet his blood was flowing for an easy kill. With a few tentative steps the grot moved towards the boy. Devin slowly backed up, giving the grot a little more room. Flush with itself the orkoid charged swinging it's sword at the boy. As it closed, the grot made a long lunge with it's sword to gut the standing slave. Quickly the boy side stepped the sword point and grabbed the grots sword hand. Twisting his body, Devin used the grots movement to throw it and break it's wrist. As the grot was writhing in pain it let go of the sword and felt a swift kick to it's neck. The grot lay on the ground not moving.
The arena exploded in noise. Wagers were collected amoungst the crowd as howls of glee or groans of disbelief still lingered in the air. The gates of the pit opened up and Devin's slaver came for him. Gorim was kindly for an Ork, which means he doesn't beat his slaves as much as the others and actually feeds them once a day. Devin stood still and held out his arms as Gorim lumbered over to him. Ratcheting the manacles onto the slave Gorim was talking to himself. "Maybe yuz ready fur somfin betta. Yuz make me lotsa teef. Yes somfin betta, somfin stronga." Devin bowed his head showing the respect demanded by a slaver. Inside the boys mind however, were visions of fighting Orks. Those were better and stronger than the grots. Yes, he wished with all of his being that his next fight would be with an Ork.
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