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Everywhere, men died and dropped to the dirt-ridden ground. They fell heavy as rocks, tumbling and heaving forward in masses. This was slaughter. The rear was covered and the frontal assault was horrendous. No way could Sergeant Gates get up to those pill boxes. It was impossible.
Dust and smoke riddled the air, limiting the already poor visibility. The sergeant dashed around building to building, hoping to make the best of the situation. All he could hear was explosions, shattering debris. Yet he heard dull silence, and an eerie tone. His squad was gone, long gone now.
He had forgotten their names, they seemed so distant from him. He could not gather up the ability to get their names. He could see no faces as well, nothing of them not even their uniforms or weapons. It was as if they never were to him.
As he came around he found a marine wounded on the ground. He took caution as he approached the wounded man. He came up to him and the head rose to meet his eyes.
"What is this?" inquired the marine.
"Deliverance," the sergeant oddly replied.
Gates moved on, instantly losing all memory of the marine. He trotted on still, ever on guard. He found another poor wounded man with no legs, bent against a wall, seemingly dead. He approached him, feeling as if he had done this before, yet had no recollection of it.
Oddly, the infantryman took his head up to see the sergeant.
"What is this?" inquired the guardsman.
"Deliverance," the sergeant oddly replied.
Once again he walked on, now in bitter silence suffocating him. He came upon what looked to be a small shootout. Everyone was dead and gone. Or so it seemed.
Gates crept around a low wall to find an enemy soldier sprawled on the ground. He was a traitor to the emperor. He went to him, recollecting a dim remembrance of this happening before.
The traitor rose his weak head to meet the sergeants.
"What is this?" inquired the traitor.
"Deliverance," the sergeant oddly replied.
And with that, the traitor rose his laspistol and shot Gates. Gates fell to the earth as he felt the stir of the battlefield rumble once more.
The officer rolled out of his quarters. He had to prepare quickly, the meeting could only take place now, or they would have no chance. He dashed out and turned through the maze of hallways and corridors. Each turn made him feel more and more perplexed. He came to the door. He gave three knocks. A pause. Two more knocks.
The doorway swiftly opened and closed and led into the planning room. Around the table sat Braky Gonzo, Aureilich Timothy, Monker Trats, and Trammin Bolsh. The officer sat down among them. The water given was particularly morose and saddening, an excellent parallel.
"Welcome." said the men together.
"Can there be no stop to this?" said Bolsh. "Is there anything else that can be done?"
"No." The stern Tomothy replied. "This is it, we need to make this move. It is critical. Everything has been set, now all we need to do is light the fuse, and it will go off perfectly. If anyone sways now, we are finished. We are all in this no matter what."
"Well, I just want a guarantee!" Bolsh exclaimed.
"Don't worry, this is guaranteed." Gonzo said in drunken manner. "We will bring this down nice and easy..."
And with that the men all agreed, bowed their heads and prepared to leave the room. A drift flew past that made the officer uneasy. As he darted his head around to check on the departing partners in the act, he saw them in horror. Trats lay dead, in front of the now anxious men. They drew their laspitols quickly.
"What the hell was that?!" yelled Tomothy.
He only turned around to see the mad Gonzo be felled by a quick silenced bullet. He knew they were found out.
"Move!" ordered Timothy as the officer and Bolsh followed Tomothy in the corridors and hallways that had just before plagued the officer's uneasy mind. As Timothy turned a corner, he flew back in an explosion that left the officer all alone. He fled, quickly.
He made swift movements to make it into the main control room, if he had any chance of survival it was be there. As he came into a shortcut through a small engine room, he was hurled across the floor into a generator, bringing him to a definite halt.
A shot rang out that made contact with his torso, sending him through a world of pain. Out of the shadows came a figure. The man was medium sized, outfitted in black clothing, armed with a sniper rifle and from what the officer could tell, demolition charges. The assasin creapt forward and drew his laspistol.
"If you wanted to make your own business, you should have left the Imperium. Now, you will meet your just reward." The man said in a hoarse cold voice.
The officer looked in sheer horror as the fear swept into him of the plans being discovered. The assasin approached him with the pistol and placed it on his forehead, being sure to dispose of the leader of the gang.
"What is this?" inquired the sergeant.
"Deliverance," the assasin replied.
With a shot bursting through his skull, Gates would never remember any more faces, or uniforms, or weapons, or names, ever again.
Hope you enjoyed my very short story, note this is a story set in the 40k universe, not the opposite. That is why this may not be true to fluff, so do not critisize me on it. I will leave the interpretation up to you, and please leave critique because I may want to write mroe of these. Thanks for reading.
It's very nice.. I'm really confused though.. What 'opposite' did you think we'd mistake it for, you use words like laspistol and Imperium so it's obvious its set in the 40k universe.
And meh.. if you don't want critique, why post on a forum?
One thing I will say is to clarify the use of the terms 'marine' and 'assassin.' It's never clear whether the wounded marine in the first paragraph is actually a space marine (in which case, the question is raised of why he's fighting in the same warzone as the guard.) And as for the assassin, it sounds like you mean an officio assassinorum operative.. In which case, replace the laspistol with an exitus pistol, make the tone much creepier (he's talking to a superhuman murderer whose been brutally trained to kill from age 5) and remember that vindicare agents wear masks with voice distorters.
Meh.. that probably counts as critique, but you posted, so I'll say what I think, that's how it works.
No, I wanted a critique, it says in my last line. I just didn't want to be overly critisized on my probably wrong fluff facts . I agree with the assasin thing, I will do that in my next story, but the marine thing is up for interpretation, it is not a definite "thing". From my original understanding, it works, but it may not for others.
As for the other understanding, I didn't want it to be understood as 40k set in a story, which would be hardcore fluffiness with every detail correctimundo. I want it to be a storyline set in the 40k universe.
I personally don't see much difference between a storyline set in the 40k universe and a 40k universe set in a story. Either way, if you get the fluff wrong it jars.
I think there's a fiction section on LO. Otherwise, please look here for a website which is more in line with what kind of critique you want. If this is just fluff for fluff's sake, rather than fluff to support an army idea. The guys in Critique will still point out if you get anything wrong, such as getting exitus pistols and laspitols mixed up.
On the critique line, I remain steadfastly confused. Is this two stories, or one story with a jumbled chronology? Because the two halves jar alarmingly. We have an amnesiac sergeant wandering through surreal ruins, and eventually being shot by the enemy, and then we have an assassin disposing of some...well, I assume they're renegades. But then the sergeant shows up and gets shot. Unless the officer and the sergeant are the same person, which is confusing because sergeants aren't officers.
Also, you use the word "drift" instead of "draft". And how is water "particularly morose and saddening"? It's water. As far as I recall water does not have emotions, nor is it overly concerned with its eventual fate.
Mantis is right about the voice distorters.
The above poster = Totally a member of the Fluff Masters Clan. Click here for fluff pwnage.
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