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This is fluff for my Assault Marine in the Sons of the Librarium thing.
Record of Tarnag, Veteran Assault Marine, Second Company, Sons of the Librarium
Standing on the edge of the wall of the Imperial Guard fortress, all Tarnag could see was a field of carapaces, stretching into the horizon. He was sent to this backwater planet to shake off the Tyranid splinter fleet invasion. Along with the few other squads of Space Marines, the fortress was filled to the brim with Imperial Guardsmen. After losing half of his squad to the accursed appeal of the horrid forces of Chaos, this was at first a welcome change.
He thought so, that is, until he learned just how much a Guardsman could complain.
“This is a suicide mission, no way are we making it out of this in one piece!”
“They just keep coming! We're running out of bullets, not to mention men!”
“Half of us are in the med tent just because of these damn spores! I went down there afternoon and Johnson was coughing up a lung. Nastiest thing I ever saw.”
“Nastiest thing so far, anyway.” The last was accompanied by a nervous giggle.
Tarnag was itching for combat; his chainsword hadn't tasted anything but cleaning rags since he'd been stationed here (bit of a tense confusion in the original - apologies for the embellishment, but it's a habit of mine). Not only was picking off bugs from a wall boring, but the Guardsmen just wouldn’t shut up.
“I got one! Wow, these Lasguns actually can make a dent!”
“Lucky… I haven’t made one wou-“
The Guardsman was interrupted by a sickening vibration. The horrible wrenching sound of the heavy iron gate being ripped from its hinges echoed through the fortress. The thunderous tremors knocked Tarnag onto his back.
Finally, some REAL combat! thought Tarnag as he picked himself up and looked over the other edge of the wall.
When the revolting forms of the Tyranids began to pour into their defenses Tarnag saw it as a mixed blessing. As much as his tactical training and assessment of the odds said that he wouldn’t make it out of this one, he relished the thought of hacking through these foul xenos in the name of the God Emperor of Mankind.
“FOR THE EMPEROR!” he yelled as his jump pack fired up and launched him into the masses of the smaller ones.
Ichor splattered onto his armor as his chainsword tore through chitin and flesh. Perfectly deflecting their attacks and plunging into weak spots, he cut a path towards the center, where the worthier prey lay.
A shower of worms clattered onto his armor and began to wriggle towards its weak points. He fired up his right jump pack booster, sending him into a suicidal barrel roll over the heads of the scuttling Tyranid troops.
His feet connected with something solid as he slowed down mid-air, and he quickly realized he was on the back of one of the larger beasts. Bolter shells whizzed by his head as he struggled to keep his balance and searched for a way to bring this thing down.
He grabbed onto one of the protrusions that lined the edges of the beast’s carapace and swung himself over its edge. Now hanging near its side he fired up his chainsword. Hearing the satisfying roar of its internal engine he plunged it into the horror’s side, carefully avoiding the swinging, scythe-like limbs that were busy disemboweling a Guardsman to the creature’s front.
He was rewarded with the monster’s agonised screech and a spray of ichor that coated his armour in steaming gunk. The creature whipped around, knocking him to the ground.
The beast lumbered forward (already whipped around), seeking to crush him under its chitinous hoof. He crawled slightly away, trying to avoid bumping into the smaller bugs which ignored the Carnifex and its prey. As the beast brought down a pincer to crush him, he rolled to the right and returned to his feet. The fortress floor crumbled beneath the destructive force of the mammoth claw, trapping it in the ensuing wreckage. A deafening roar escaped the beast's jaws as Tarnag's chainsword greedily ate into its flesh, answering the creature's attack with deadly precision, a spray of black ichor coating his helmet’s eyeholes.
The beast staggered as it began to topple. Hearing this, Tarnag acted quickly and fired up his jump pack. The explosive eruption of power lurched him sideways, hurtling him over the top of the Gaunts at a high speed, his only goal to get out of the middle of the fight.
He landed on his back some yards away, wincing as the metal of his shoulder crushed the skull of a whimpering Guardsman. Tarnag raised a hand to clear his helmet of the sticky black substance that coated it, and felt a lance of agony in his shoulder.
One of the smaller scythe handed bugs had dug its blade into his shoulder and severed the tendons there, and was leaping back for another strike.
“XENOS FILTH!” Tarnag yelled as the pain of his injury registered in his mind. It was so intense that it surpassed even his implants designed to block such a feeling.
He glanced to his right and saw that the limb was dangling uselessly by a bloody string of tendons. Gritting his teeth he reached over and tugged hard on the arm, tearing apart the mangled flesh that kept the dead weight attached to him. He flung the limb away from him, its heavy armor crushing the skull of one of the ugly bugs that surrounded him.
He reached to his belt for his bolt pistol to fend off the brood that was surrounding him, ready to pounce, and found it wasn’t there. He realised with a sinking feeling that it must have come loose when the Carnifex had bucked him off. He quickly grabbed for the chainsword that was left on the ground where his severed limb had dropped it.
Tapping the activation rune just as the beasts leaped at him, Tarnag managed to cut down two or three before they toppled him over. Desperately flailing his sword at the bugs that were attacking him, Tarnag managed to slice through the last of them, but not before one or two had punctured the armor on his abdomen.
The excruciating pain that was now coursing through him was causing his vision to blur and his head to spin. He stumbled into one of the fortress's alleyways as a dark shadow began to loom overhead.
Praying to the Emperor that it wasn’t one of the flying monstrosities that had attacked them before, Tarnag looked up. The silver sheen of a supply ship’s underside armor almost made him shed a tear in joy.
Although the tumultuous warp storm had made contact impossible, the automatic delivery of supplies had continued. This was to be Tarnag’s salvation
Firing up his jump pack, Tarnag lurched upwards towards the side of the ship where he hoped to find an airlock. As he soared toward the open space he felt something tear through his right side. One of the leaders had fired one of their horrid cannons at him. Upon hitting his right side the crystal round fragmented, severing his leg and severely damaging his side. The shot shook his flight path, and he was only barely able to get a grip on the handhold on the airlock. Struggling, he pulled himself upward and slid his body onto the footrest.
The doors hissed open, and he hauled himself inside. Biting back the pain of his mutilated body and the urge to pass out, Tarnag pressed the “Emergency Release” button on the side of the airlock. The doors hissed shut again and Tarnag collapsed onto the floor.
He finally allowed himself to slip into unconsciousness as a servitor began to drag him to the med bay and the ship fired up its engines to escape.
Tarnag awoke from his meditative state with a start. Every time he closed his eyes for too long, his mind forced him to recount how he lost that battle, and the horrors that took place there; the very reason he routinely injected himself with adrenaline to keep himself alert and awake.
“That’s the last time I let myself recharge for too long…” he muttered to himself as he put his helmet back on. “I can’t keep reliving this stuff…”
After his incident he had had to have half of his body replaced by cybernetics. He had survived the otherwise-lethal injuries due entirely to his Space Marine genetic engineering.
The Chapter was sympathetic to his failure. They told him that he could have been fitted for a power fist, but he knew it would be too slow for him. They said he could be euthanized and finally relax, his gene seed assimilated, but battle was too ingrained in him for him to be able to stop at this point. They said the Orks were becoming too much of a threat, and he volunteered.
Shaking away the grogginess from his head, he reached to the side of his cot and found the injection he so needed. Grasping the needle in his still armored hand he plunged the injection into his wrist, the adrenaline coursing into his body and surging though his veins thoroughly awaking him. Ghost pains of his lost limbs coursed into his synapses as he stood.
Tarnag let out a guttural primal bellow as the pure energy and rage coursed through his veins. The very walls of the barracks seemed to reverberate with the noise. He grabbed his Chainsword and Bolt Pistol that rested at the foot of his bed and headed towards the exit.
As he walked he saw the other marines, resting while out of their armor, pretending to sleep, though his primal screams had surely awoken them. He chuckled to himself at how they feared him so.
One of the marines whimpered as he passed his section of the barracks. “Stay away wretch. My business is none of yours,” Tarnag gruffly whispered as he kicked the young marine’s bed.
Their fear was not totally unfounded though. On the rare occasion that Tarnag took off his armor it was painfully obvious that he had been through countless battles. Along with the cybetnetics grafted onto cauterized flesh that took up just about half of his body, his still intact flesh was littered with scars from battles past. The man looked as though he were a walking corpse, and yet he fought harder than any of them.
He was also feared because of how he fought. No longer burdened by caution for his health or even reason, Tarnag took suicidal risks and maneuvers, yet he always came out alive, drenched in the enemy’s blood. Even he wasn't sure whether he was pleased about that last detail or not.
As Tarnag reached the cool air of the night, he heard the night watch fending off the small force of Orks that was currently trying to waste the Space Marines’ bullets through the night. The bigger waves would come as the sun rose, but nevertheless he decided to have some fun.
He fired up his jump pack and vaulted himself over the wall of the compound, to the left of the wave of Orks running at the gates. He activated his chainsword and ran to the line of Boyz running forward. One of the bigger ones spun towards him with his choppa raised and started to gallop forwards.
The green skinned giant bellowed “WAAAAGGHH!!!” as he fired off a few shots with his pistol, pinging off of the thick armor.
Tarnag stopped and gathered air back into his lungs and roared “BURN XENO SCUM!!!” straight back at the Ork with as much menace as he could muster.
The Ork, with a look of sheer delight on his face, readied his choppa for an attack (come on, this is an Ork we're talking about here), but it was already too late. Tarnag was upon him, shoving his chainsword through his chest. Blood spattered onto the Marine's chestplate as he withdrew his weapon and pivoted towards the rest of the mob.
“Take your choppas to ‘im, boyz!” another Ork yelled, pointing a meaty green finger at him.
As they charged, Tarnag dropped a frag grenade at his feet and fired his jump pack. As he lurched into the sky he hear the satisfyingly wet explosion of the grenade and the Orks that had charged him, the flying shrapnel just grazing his boots.
He spotted a lumbering Killa Kan towards the center of the Orkish horde (common mistake, that) and steered himself towards it. As his feet made contact with the top of the mech he gunned his chainsword to life. With a pair of blows he severed the weapon arms of the Kan. Plunging his sword into the mech's cockpit and pushing his boot into the back of the blade as a foothold, Tarnag drew his bolt pistol.
Atop the now wildly spinning Killa Kan, Tarnag began to spray the Orks around him with shots from his pistol, killing many, and distracting most in a huge radius around him.
Firing his jump pack he back flipped off of the dying mech and grabbed his Chainsword from its roof. As the boys began to return fire, he rocketed upwards and away from the fight. Far below, the Kan exploded, the shrapnel slicing through the green skin of the Boyz around it.
Hovering above the fight, searching for his next target, he spotted some Flash Gitz taking aim towards him. Rocketing backwards and weaving around, their bullets struggled to keep after him. One struck him in the cybernetics of his torso. He felt nothing from it, not even the sensation of a bullet entering him, but the noise was enough of a distraction for the Orks.
Still flying backwards Tarnag hardly noticed the Squiggoth until it roared not four feet from his head. He jerked himself slightly upward to avoid crashing into it. Landing squarely on its flat head, he struggled to keep his footing on the bucking green animal. Plunging his roaring Chainsword into the top of its head, Tarnag grabbed onto the large horn in the center of the beast’s forehead.
Screaming, the giant plowed forward, crushing the Ork infantry under its stomping feet, writhing in agony as it bled profusely from the wound in its forehead.
Tarnag withdrew the chainsword from its temporary holster in the skull and readied himself for what he knew would come next, keeping his jets warm.
The Squiggoth rampaged almost all the way to the gate before finally collapsing. Tarnag flew upward just as it toppled over itself and slid to a stop at the wall of the compound.
Looking back at the swath of destruction it had left, Tarnag was pleased at the casualties he had caused. After finishing off the last charging Boy with a Bolt Pistol shot to its skull, he flew back over the wall. Deciding to call it a night, or early morning, Tarnag decided to grab a drink before heading out again, content in the fact that the Warboss would be furious at the losses his force had taken.
Continued on Post #17 (Chainswords and Guts) of this thread.
Last edited by Tarnag; October 21st, 2008 at 22:52.
<Jaffar-Hasad> wait.. he ripped off his own arm.. then threw it at the enemy?
Sleeping, not dead.
Removed by the moderators.
Yup, I love that part too
haha! a way overdone theatrical assault captain hero! normally i scorn such characters, but the sheer brilliance of the way you strung it together completely outweighed that!
Sure I will! Hopefully in the same over the top yet well done way that I hope this one came off as.
I need some suggestions as to what should happen next though. I was thinking taking out the Warboss, then moving on to Necrons, all with some more character development.
Rip the ork's leg off then beat him to death with it!
Sleeping, not dead.
Removed by the moderators.
Hell why not, ill put that in for fun.
I don't know how serious you're being about this given the sheer comedy value, but nitpicking regardless because it gives me so much pleasure.. oh yes, I'm going to need a new pair of pants.
Firstly, while the idea of his shell shock is kinda neat, marines don't really sleep, so having it triggered by sleep is a bit flawed. They need to meditate and recharge now and again (like, once every few weeks, or they start suffering the psychological effects of sleep deprivation) but the need for sleep isn't there any more.
They also don't retire, ever.. If they're too injured to fight, they're euthanized and their geneseed is used to make more marines. It's a harsh life being humanity's protectors, but, as the saying goes, someone has to do it.
Finally.. I don't think they really feel pain. I think the brain implants and hypnotraining just lets them shut it out. It's just damage to the body, not really 'arrgh! my arms!'
Also, what's a lone squad doing being sent to stop a Tyranid invasion.. especially a squad who are obviously all seditious little traitors?
Okay, thanks. I have never read any SM fluff, so I pulled all of this out of my ass. I will be sure to make the necessary edits.
And its not his old squad, its him and some other marines sent to reinforce a whole Fortress of Imperial Guard. Really he is just there to provide strategic help.