-- Num ---- Username ---- Category ------------- Posted -- Expires --- Pages ---
| 44408 | STU_RSFURR   | STORIES              | 12/15/92 | 12/22/92 |    18    |
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| Description: the incomplete Warhammer story                                  |
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ing in to the planet.      An observer in real space would have seen a chunk of
darken into a wedge of solid black, with a faint glow of red at one end. The wed
 and rotating as it went. Then faint lines of rainbow light would scan their way
hey approach the ends, and then the spaceship would have been gone in a burst of
ould have occurred only if there was an observer in real space.      To look at
into warpspace, at about the same space as the imaginary observer. There in fron
ound you are the black shapes of warp creatures, misty shapes that would almost
 and shift away. If you twist your head, you might see the blasting yellow light
 a lighthouse, or a pulsar, guiding human starcraft across the galaxy. Looking c
ts of the lesser minds that help maintain the Astronomicon, smaller polychromal
away, on the edge of vision, you can see the bright green streaks of the Eldar p
id hiveworlds, or even, if today is a very clear day, and the gray mist of warps
 a Slann vessel.      Got all that?      Good.      Now, then, imagine a blood©r
n your eyes can track. Shift your imagination. Catch up with the wedge of red, t
 wound through warpspace.      There's no atmosphere in warpspace, which is good
, static so loud it would break your eardrums in an instant, just before your ey
are small waves of force that shimmer along the length of the spacecraft, never
speed. Go a little faster. The blood©red isn't quite as pure as it looked on fir
ace, the red shimmers a little, defining the shape of the spacecraft. Look close
e is a psyker. Here is the astropath." The glow is muted, the astropath is aslee
avigator can guide the ship himself. Look even closer, and there is the dim purp
 of the ship like a fly in amber.      Look still closer, and you can see the in
 all the lights of its cargo.      Move inside the ship, and track down the red©
ce.      Suddenly, the ship is gone from warpspace, the Navigator has taken it o
 the universe, and all that is left in warpspace is a faint, blue fogÔ    h)
Our imaginary observer sees it now, and now he sees it go away, as the Navigator
ace. Green phosphor lines of transparent light sketch the starcraft, as if shapi
re filled in by the blood©red, and the long wound is once more torn through warp
e corridor along to a large, magenta cube inside. Up, to your left are many litt
p's cargo, so rotate your imagination so that they're on the bottom of your fiel
f dots, nine of them, gathered in a circle, and two more against the wall. Lower
rom seeing warpspace into "normal" vision . . .        "I hate this." He turned
glob of saliva gleamed against the battered metal of the floor. "Look at those b
y'll all be dead in ten hours, and what do they do? Do they try and improve the
 bolters are actually working?" He spat again. "No, they just stand there and mu
stards."      "Turing, shuddup." the taller figure said, reaching over the speak
      "Would you stop doing that?" Turing bellowed, and turned to glare up at th
p messing with my helmet, or I fucking well am gonna feed you your liver!"
olishing of the massive weapon in his lap, to twist a small knob back and forth
o matter how many times you save their butts dirtside, no matter how many times
ill still dump you out the airlock if you step out of line. If you step out of l
l, anyway."      "But look at 'em! They're . . ."      "So they're dips. Big dea
fucking heads off, bring 'em back up, and bam, six months later we've got the sa
t it isn't gonna change anything. And who knows, maybe this time, maybe they won
the giant gun to his shoulder, where it locked into a hinge on his shoulderplate
time's over. They're about ready to do whatever the hell it is they do when they
 the door, his heavy boots making echoes in the large room. Turing followed, his
wood, who, at six feet, was about two feet taller.      The nine men in the circ
from where they were kneeling. The one in brown powered armor, and the bionic ar
cing that the two had already gone.Ô    h)          0*0*0*° °   ÔŒ     There w
must now ask for your names of battle, that they may be entered properly in the
mes of the Knights who perish shall never be forgot. I will begin. I will be kno
 a single white shoulderplate, his other arm being glossy metal. He was bald, an
rned to look at the man next to him, who looked back, then into the center of th
 white powered armor, as were the other seven. His left shoulderplate was covere
dark red cross. He held an axe, its blade too shiny for such a battered weapon.
th of the haft, and plugged into the blade and a small box at his waist. This wa
rmor steel as easily as through wood.      "I will be known as Callahan." This m
ket©propelled explosive rounds.      "I will be known as Decker." He too had a b
a needle gun, a weapon that fires small drugged needles, not very effective, but
it. It was of alien manufacture, and in its tiny volume, it somehow replicated t
his for hundreds of years, and had saved his life many times. Then again, it had
stuck it in his mouth with his last effort, to be brought back with his head and
Coy." This marine was different, his armor having a red caduceus instead of the
 in one hand, and a small needler in the other.      "I will be known as Dilvish
like a chainsaw, and he held a bolter in his hand.  Á     Á"I will be known as
eing covered by large red goggles. He wore a powersword at his side, and held a
nown as Von Braun." The last marine in the circle held a bolter in his hands.
er will know of our blood, and of our efforts, in the name of lost Christendom,
ooking around the circle. His bionic arm whined a little as he reached into a po
Knights last battle." he said as he withdrew a bottle, "Inside is my blood. Insi
." He uncapped the bottle, poured some on his hand, and wiped red blood on his s
e old, red©brown one was. He handed the bottle to Martel, who freshened his own
hen it was done, Saint George capped the bottle and replaced it. "Let us now pre
0*0*0*° °   Ô Emperor. For Empire. For humanity."      There was silence in the
rcle.        Eastwood opened the door, which swung inward only after he pushed h
tly lit, carpeted room, and waved at the other five in the room. Metal chairs we
wn, and one standing. Turing trotted over to where the other two squats were sit
opped his weapon at the door with a loud clunk, and sat at the back, putting his
er man, his balding hair covered by the helmet he wore, stood at the front of th
t against the dingy yellow wall. A map was tacked to the wall, and he held a poi
l over now?" Turing and Eastwood nodded. "Good. Now, I know you all hate this ju
he room, some actually hitting him. "But if the rules say we do this, we do this
his hand. "Okay. Step one, hi, I'm Jameson, first sergeant, you know the rest, b
 Brothers of the Order of Saint George, the best damn infantry unit in the Empir
well, anybody we damn well feel like honoring is how I look at it. Anyway. Step
d and pointed at the map.      "This is Cisab, about two weeks from the Monaster
hard way. It's a small planet, not much in the way of land mass, not much in the
 that much fun to live there either, if what this map says is true. The only thi
e bunch of the Jokero social groups have landed on it. A whole bunch. Nobody kno
tic apes, but if a Jokero spaceship comes within twenty light years of this plan
t the place is a clearing©house for gizmos like our friend Palin's finger flamer
tty much like some sort of ape. They only had two distinguishing features to set
 it was totally impossible to communicate with them, and second, they built thin
e ring©sized flamethrowers, or hand©held missiles that could destroy a battlecru
pparently built out of nothing but pipes and force fields, raiding occasionally
y everyone. Their weapons were incredibly miniaturized, and they could put toget
se of a battle. Other races counted it lucky that there weren't more of them, an
    "There was a search group on this planet, and they found a weapon there abou
 Ô    h)          0*0*0*° °   Ô  "Boom!" Turing whispered to Eastwood, making
od pushed Turing's visor down in response.      "As usual, the Jokero threw in a
bolter." The other six blinked at that. Planetary defense lasers tended to be ab
d to vaporize things up to the size of small planetoids.      "Man, that's what
 Turing. Anyway, one of the group picked it up, and accidentally killed all of t
d himself, but survived long enough to call it in to the local Empire outpost. T
e bet that an Ork battlewagon picked up the call, and at least one group of pira
rks with this little gizmo wouldn't be pleasant to be around, and pirates would
"The pirates would know which end of it to shoot with."      "We gotta get there
ky, either it won't be there anymore, or we'll be the first there." Jameson sigh
e we're talking about here, we'll have to fight somebody, somewhere, somewhen. O
."      He looked back at his list. "Step three. This is stupid, but we gotta do
his battle, if there is a battle. This means no wandering off to kill any dreadn
tol close by." Jameson turned to one of the squats, a red©haired man in a plain
ing out of trouble. You're also to keep Neumann alive." He turned to the last sq
wore a white, padded jacket, and a heavy helmet. "Neumann, the techmarine has do
osed to give it longer range or something. Rocket boosters, I guess. Have fun wi
   Á"Eastwood, you and Granada are to keep Manson alive. He drives our most pow
eep your heavy bolter in one place, too. I don't want you wasting time with the
 kill things. Don't waste the multi©las on infantry, though. Kill big things. En
ts, whatever you want to call 'em, will be dropping in first, and we'll be follo
s safe."      "And lastly, I had a word with the Abbot before we left. The Knigh
alive, and if they bounce off for some weird knight reason, remember that they a
ge. The Brothers of the Order are there to keep the Knights out of trouble, okay
p. Get me when we're supposed to leave. Rah rah Emperor and allÔ    h)
he room.      As soon as the door had clanged shut, a helmet hit the wall near t
said Neumann, pulling his cigar out of his mouth and blowing a smoke ring at the
   Manson stood up, glared at the squat, and forced his way through the chairs t
 carpet. He kicked at it, and grabbed it out of the air as it bounced off the wa
elmet again. It hit the door right in the middle.      "Happy now, ye worm©mucki
 Neumann through another smoke ring. "I'm sure the orks will be impressed too."
ke me."      Manson sputtered for a second, then launched himself at Neumann. A
stood up, his helmet hitting the ceiling as he did so. Ducking a little, he walk
e room, where Turing and Eastwood were sitting. "Um." he said.      "Um back." r
      "About them two, um..."      "What about 'em, bucky?" Turing evidently fou
d at first suspected.      "Well, shouldn't someone stop them?" said Granada, co
me and shaven face.      "Why?" Turing had exhausted the entertainment possibili
n to the wall.      "Ah? What? Why? Well . . ."      "Don't let him mess with yo
retched elastic at the combatants. "They're the short©timers of the unit. They'v
naturally like that. I guess you might think it's a little strange, bein' new an
a small "whif"ing noise, it had hit Manson in the face. Manson didn't notice, hi
ann into the trash chute.      "Seventeen years?" Granada's craggy face shifted
s not unlike continental drift. "How many battles?"      "I don't know, kid. I'v
ys he's hit fifty©three, if you count the border patrols along Icco Five, but we
hey might have mebbe sixty, eighty fights under their belts, huh?"      Granada
not that big a deal, kid." Eastwood ducked as Manson threw a chair at Neumann, w
 they geneseed you. Anyway, Neumann and Manson have another year and a half, sta
combat duty, and then another year and a half before they go home. They've seen
     0*0*0*° °   Ô through stuff that even Turing and I haven't, which means, t
ell you about the Koranis Ridge battle." Turing interrupted. "If they don' know
e where you shot down a blimp.'"      "Yeah, do that, kid. To hear them tell it,
ps, and them two were the only survivors. Anyway, to get back to the point, me a
 get out, we don't have a hell of a lot to lose in a battle, but Neumann and Man
illed? They'll get put back together, won't they? You said you get geneseeded?"
et put back together, but medical time gets counted as desk job time. At half a
quick. They don't want to trade half a year of a cushy job planting carrots for
illed a few times, you start really getting afraid of getting shot." The two con
a mass of overturned chairs. "Anyway, they get tense, and they get nervous, and
 takes it out on Manson." Eastwood pushed his helmet back a little on his head.
they teach you anything in Orientation?"      "They took me straight from the Ey
ke me in to the Monastery afterwards. Then the two marines who brought me laughe
nted to keep the beachhead unit filled up, and with Thompson getting his head se
ent as ever, the Abbot."      Turing looked at Granada, as if he had just notice
ring at the ceiling.      "Yeah?" said Granada.      "How'd you get picked up, a
s."      "I shot these orks off of an Order Land Raider. Nothing impressive. The
 that I could shift from the infantry to the Order, and get out in twenty years
nded like a good deal to me, so I said fine." Granada looked over at the two com
 pile of chairs. "And here I am. Why would I not want to talk about it?"     Á
l kicking themselves for coming over. You might have noticed that these marines
an, the Blood Angels are maniacs and all that, the Blue Blazer Regulars are luna
 a Crusade and why the hell are they looking for a place called Jerusalem? And w
now who the Pope is, and he knows the Abbot personally."      "I wouldn't know.
Ô    h)         0*0*0*° °   ÔŒ     The light in the room dimmed to red, then
. "It's showtime. Go get Manson and I'll handle Neumann."        Light years awa
d like a highway accident, if the human spacecraft was a knife cutting through w
s way through space. Its course wasn't steady, and it had a disturb©ing tendency
ace, it shone bright green, then pulsed blue, then had a go at the entire rainbo
to real space. It came back into warpspace with a mauve burst of light, and cont
 its pilot was in a fight.      Which, of course, he was.      This being an Ork
 actively trying to kill the other half approached certainty, it being a long an
the Orks being Orks (i.e. green, with bad underbites and even worse dispositions
her dead or on heavy drugs. Orks weren't big on technology, nor were they the un
 but you couldn't get any race more interested in mindless mayhem. Not without s
d heard the broadcast from Cisab two weeks ago, and the Ork commander, a fairly
 "This good, eh, wot? You! Stoopid pilot! Go there! Now!", while accidentally sl
 his fingernails.      Any human ship could have made that distance in four days
time, what with the running gun©battle in the engineering section (six days, fif
s (two days, three casualties, and half the food supplies escaped), and the subs
ee days, five casualties.)       Nevertheless, the doughty Ork battlewagon Pulp
ogie. Mick, the standard bearer was practicing his battle cries and singing "H'a
l fight song of Harboth's Own Ballstompers. Harboth himself was sharpening his a
caded in the mess room and demanding to talk to someone not in authority.
arefully hidden on the second moon of Cisab. Days earlier, this craft had slippe
 the currents of warpspace, until it had ascertained that no other ships were in
accelerated to danger©ously high speeds, and whipped into orbit around Cisab. Tw
der an overhang in a small crater.      Its red©hot exhaust vents cooled quickly
m bright metal to stone grey,Ô    h)          0*0*0*° °   Ô indistinguishable
sible to find, unless you knew exactly what you were looking for, and exactly wh
 armor dropped out of the airlock, falling ten feet down to the dusty surface of
, and trailing black cables behind them.       The radio waves crackled. "Hey, D
      "Where we supposed to put these things? Huh?"      "Anywhere where it can
dy,  Vin, didn'cha listen?"      "Sure I listened, sure, but I can't unnerstand
hing. He sounds all grindy now."      "I could understand him fine."      "But m
t. I near got blown up, remember Dez? An' my ears took so long to work again?"
eah, I remember. Didn't you talk to the doc about that?"      The two figures ha
n't like him. Remember when we took Larre in and he just cut Larre up for spare
n arm, remember?"      "Good point. Well, next time we get shore leave, we'll ta
d up. Okay?"      "Okay."      The boxes were in place, and the two pirates slid
     "Yeah, Dez?"      "Remember to tell the sally boat mate about your ears. Ma
 can't have a deaf gun running around in a battle, y'know."      "You think ther
in to pick up some sorta zapper?"      "There's gotta be a battle. The captain s
a wait for someone else to come in and show us where it is, so we can go down an
 then, Dez."      And with that, the two figures reentered the pirate ship.
 the Order's spacecraft, was a black mass of no definable shape. It was always c
 one was always looking at it from the corner of one's eye. The shapes never rep
maintained a disturbing similarity. The shapes in the mass were such that they a
sly repelled with such force that an observer might be driven mad with disgust a
at once had names, but now were no longer named. They had once been intelligent,
nly be said to be cunning. They had once been honorable, and now knew nothing of
Order's spacecraft was in orbit around Cisab now, having dropped out of warpspac
tor had taken his time bringing the ship in, straining with every electronic and
an or Ork©made in the star system. He failed in his effort.       The great airl
 Knights stood exposed to empty space in their powered armor, their feet held to
wn at the cloud©wrapped sphere below. The Brothers were strapped into seats in t
n and steel affair that apparently had the flightworthiness of a brick, but neve
any landings in many different atmospheres.      Saint George raised his backpac
 be heard across the neutrino waves by the other Knights.      "Knights," he sai
 three," he continued. "One!" The Knights shuffled forward to stand on the very
away from the airlock floor as they turned off their foot magnets. "Three!" The
nights activated their backpack jets and fell (or flew) down into the atmosphere
ike falling sparks as friction began its work on them.      Inside the landing s
hen the hell we gonna go, Jamey©boy?" Turing took a swig from a metal bottle. "A
th.      "Any moment now, Turing." Jameson replied, not looking up from the clip
g?"      "Dunno the month, but it was forty thousand, two hundred and five, Empi
rms." The inside of the landing shuttle was badly lit, with a low ceiling. The l
 many seats. Jameson raised the clipboard into better light. "Why do you think t
"I dunno. It was two point three gees, though."      Eastwood began to snore as,
nd Manson began arm©wrestling. Flagg hummed quietly to himself, and Granada star
ped the armrests.      "Kid?" Turing tapped Granada on the shoulder. "Tense?"
 quick jerk of his neck muscles. "What? What?" he nearly screamed.      "What th
  "I can't. I©I©I always do this before a battle."      "How many battles have y
   h)          0*0*0*° °   ÔŒ     "Sure."      "Two."      "Fuuuck." Turing br
you your first time out. I always knew they were morons."      "H©hey. . ."
ok, ya got nothin to worry about. See, this here's the baddest bunch of footslog
ck there, you've seen his bolter pistol, those notches on the handle? About twen
stol for just anybody. He cuts notches for dreadnoughts he's killed. And . . ."
   "You don' know what a dreadnought is? What do they teach you in the Army thes
usually carries like four bolters, or something like that. It's faster'n you, it
u. It's like a tank on two legs, a bigger version of marine armor, get it?"
ose in the last b©battle."      "Good. Anyway, he's cut one big notch on his pis
d and I, well, we've done our share of that sorta thing too, and then there's Ne
udd gun. It eats Orks for breakfast. Which means that, unless it really starts r
get outside'a yer mommy's arms."      "R©really?"      "Yeah. It's the Knights w
tioned something like that bªbefore."      "Kid, I'm grateful to the Order for g
nd the times at the Monastery ain't half bad. But the Knights are the one thing
t, and they piss me off. They're nuts. They're stupid. They're . . . I don' know
one of them doesn't die, it's a fucking miracle. We'll be over in a corner fryin
tupid 'heroic' charge, or they'll decide that, hey, all this bolter stuff isn't
uys into lunchmeat, and nine times out of ten, the bad guys will see them coming
, and then we win the battle, or we survive until the battle's over, and we go a
ies back to the Monastery, and when they get regrown they haven't learned a fuck
oment, the landing shuttle lurched and drifted forward. "Enough talking, kid. Li
tle fell out of the sky, down towards the whiteªwrapped blue marble, towards a s
e, irregular blot against the blue, and then all sight was cut off by the fire o
   ÁThe knights reentered smoothly, their ceramic shells shedding heat as they
Imperial base, which was situated on the largest island on Cisab. Their contrail
ecelerating. Á     ÁThen, as they crossed the island, each seperate marine was
and small boxes on their belts suddenly vaporized, as the mechanisms inside conv
. They hung in air, miles above the island, and then as the effect of the decele
eir internal gyroscopes came on line.  Á     ÁThey fell like milkweed. Á   
k, shortly after the last knight hit dirt.       "All right, cruddies, we are do
 He'd spent the trip down in the command cabin, watching the little metal box pi
 to be able to fix it if it decided that the ground was further down than it rea
 down on the ground now, and he damn well liked that a lot better. "Get out, set
d with that, he pulled himself up into the command cabin, there to nap for the n
." Turing growled as his short fingers worked at the strap buckles.      "When h
 groping  underneath his seat for his helmet.      "He always tells us what to d
d snores until we've done it. And _then_, he comes down and offers to help! Man,
e's gonna get fed to a streetlight!"      "What? How?" Granada paused. "Fed to a
 on poles, aren't they?"      "Not on Lio Ten, they're not. Let's just say that
ace at night there. Help me with th' damn strap, here. It's fuckin' stuc© . . .
nd started walking past Eastwood on his way to the embarkation door. "Move yer f
ing at that point. Turing turned to Granada. "He's crocked again. Help me get 'i
Granada, looking at the way Eastwood was wedged into his seat, heavy bolter on h
 grabbed Eastwood by his helmet strap and hauled him up. "Grab his feet." Á   
Eastwood out of the shuttle and stretched out on the purple vine©like plants tha
them, the shuttle sat on a patch of burnt and burning vegetation. Á     Á"Gran
out!Ô    h)          0*0*0*° °   Ô Yowtch!" he cried as he put an ungloved han
"Damnfirkinfasitcbleeder!" Á     ÁThe weapons were contained in a pod on the r
hich supposedly protected them from the heat of reentry. It also protected them
Manson pried open the pod hatch, and a wad of foam spilled out, white and fibrou
 to help pull the foam off of the weapons. However, the foam resisted, and only
 they managed to free the weapons from its grasp. Á     Á"Is that the thudd gu
oked like a wheelbarrow on treads, with a long, four©tube barrel wrapped in copp
 gun©carrier, sat down in its chair, and backed it out of the pod. Á     Á"No,
urn right through almost anything in one shot." Turing replied as he was pulling
s your weapon?" Á     Á"What?" Granada turned away from looking at the gun©car
    Á"What's yer weapon? What gun do y'shoot things with?" Á     Á"Oh! Uh...
un.'" Turing mocked. "Kid, seein' as how yer the only trooper fool enough to car
Turing looked around the mounts and pulled the long©barrel, heavy©stocked weapon
 to Granada. Á     ÁGranada snatched the gun out of the air, and swept his eye
with an autogun?" Á     Á"Won't kill Orks." Á     Á"It will too. I got two o
ight, then what do you carry that's so much better?" Á     Á"Short©capacity pl
 attachment. An' I got a bolter pistol for close work."