View Full Version : Betrayal

27-04-2005, 22:21
Ok...I had my doubts about posting this here as it's probably full of inaccuracies and also, it's unfinished at present....but gets added to almost every other day. And as yet remains only 2/3rds beta read. But I thought...'What the hell!'

So...I wrote this due to the 'Future writers competition' they're running on the Black Library website, though I won't be sumbitting this fic (or any one) to the competition.
Anyhoo....for the competition, the theme is betrayal set in a WHFB context. I had an idea, but since I know bugger all about WHFB, I stuck with my 40K idea and started to write

As usual, it's written in my usual 'First person inner monologue describing the events' style.
This is only the part of it ,the actual source of the betrayal could be guessed at and probably is obvious but want be spelt out til the end (and I have the ending in my mind).


It was here, on this very spot that I finally realised the betrayal. So obvious now that I was astounded that I never noticed it before. And the bitterest pill is that the lie was on my very lips and the lips of all I knew. Or those I thought I knew. But not anymore, they still believe, believe in the lie that was told to them by people who thought themselves our betters, yet hide under a veil of piety so we would swallow their words as though they were sweet and honeyed. And listen we did, allowing ourselves to suckle on their oratory as though it would give something in return for our attention. But in truth, it gave us nothing, nothing but subjugation, pain and torment. All this under the pretence that there would be something better for us if we endured this without question. But that is far far from the actuality of it. And it is here and now that I realise it. Here on the battlefield that I died.

Like so many of them, we joined the crusade for honour and glory. Steeled by the preachers that came to tell of the enemy and the glory that we could achieve in His name. And the glory we could win for ourselves if we believed. But for them, belief wasn’t enough. Nor was piety or anything like what they were supposed to live by. The only way we could show our unflinching loyalty was to take up arms and join them on their crusade as their army. As warriors of the light to cast out the darkness from every corner of our homes.

Cannon fodder more like. They wanted us not to fight, but to clog up the enemies guns and strongholds with our dead so that we could ‘win’ victory so they could live in comfort and decadence, all the while the common men and women throw their lives away for lip service promises should they survive. But they know that most wouldn’t. Most would perish under the weapons of the enemy and so get nothing. Not even a grave for their bodies. They’ll be left to rot in the open, left for the carrion crows to pick their bones clean. This is what they signed up for in truth. Death without a thought, no more important than vermin.

Yet, join we all did. As they asked us who was with them in their holy cause, we all threw up our arms and shouted our reply:
We cheered at the thought; to be part of something greater that we were as people. To be part of something that had some meaning in the bigger pictures of our lives. To be heroes. That was what was promised. We’d be held in high honour and also the ultimate reward should the worst happen. But that was a good thing, for we’d be giving our lives for a purpose and such a sacrifice was richly rewarded for the truly faithful.

We said goodbye to all we had ever known. Saw the peaceful sphere of our home drop away from beneath our feet; almost unnoticed in our joy for what was to come, what we thought was to come. And every one of us got it wrong. True we all harboured our doubts, but in the face of the promises, they were small and insignificant. The Preachers tutored us in what we must believe in and steeled us for what lay ahead.

What came next? Hell doesn’t quite seem the right word of it. Hell would have been preferable to what we had to endure. ‘Training’ they called it. And on some level, I guess that it is, but it was much more than that in reality. Training to kill, to destroy, and to die. They broke us. Tore us away from our normal way of life. Ripped from any form of civilisation that we had built for ourselves to be moulded into something less than we were. To be killers. To be robotic murderers that would obey without question. To give our very lives on the whims of people that weren’t even there to witness what is was we were giving our lives for.

We were nothing at the point. No, we were less than nothing. Treat like scum, like the very things we were told that we were supposed to crush. And in truth, for the vast majority of them, that would never change. Nor has it changed for me.

The torture was relentless, day in, day out. A constant oppressive torment to make us useful in the eyes of our commanders. Many were found lacking in someway, though I could not see how myself. Men could not take it, the abuse, the punishment, and the ‘existence’. Some took their own lives and I think I envied them for their convictions. For I knew that I could not do that, no matter how despicable things got. They knew they could not succeed at this and so found a way out of it on their own terms. Though our ‘superiors’ reviled those who did.

‘Worthless’ they were called ‘Losers’ ‘Cowards, not fit to breath nor sully the rest of this with their black stains of dishonour.’ We were told that they got nothing for what they did, lives and souls wasted when they could have been put to better use. Others who were found to be lacking got a much less quiet removal.

In the name of false faith and for a vast amount of people I have never met or known, I have faced a number of things that would have reduced many to pieces, but none of these horrors can compare to our training at the hands of bullies and tyrants with the ‘conviction’ of what they believe to be the right course of action on their lips.

Nothing can surpass the sight of their power played out for all to see as if they have a right to do that. It sickened me then that such things should happen and it sickens me to know that they are so blind and stupid to believe that they are doing the right thing.

We stood and watched it happen, the first time, but by no means the least, etched into my memory forever as if burned into the backs of my eyelids with a laser. And for what? For the slightest of grievances. For a tiny thing that could have easily have been nothing, but blown out of all proportion. And all because someone a trillion miles away decided that they could have the power to dictate to us. It was supposed to teach us a lesson, and for me it did. But not the lesson they wished me to learn.

To watch a dear friend die at the hands of the enemy is one thing, but to see your commanding officer strike them down as though they were the vilest of enemies is something totally different.

To be continued

Lord Balor
27-04-2005, 23:24
Great stuff so far, i would say more but its too early and i havn't finished coffee #2 yet. This is very reminisent of Full Metal Jacket training course crossed by a Nazi Concentration Camp...how very like the Imperium...

28-04-2005, 00:16
*hands Balor a cookie*

Thanks....and kinda what i was aiming for. Showing the true nitty-gritty of the nasties of the Imperium...after all it says that an individual is more or less nothing.
I wasn't happy with the last part so I took it out and changed it.

Members of the commissariat are never well liked when they arrive on the scene; I know that I cursed and damn their very existence with every fibre of my being, and I am certain I am not the only one who wishes a fate worse than death on this scum. They were despised by all and much much more than the rampaging hordes that seeks out our very blood and entrails for their debased rituals.

One look at their self-important swagger, their unfounded heirs and graces made my blood seethe in my very veins and my skin crawl worse than any Chaos-infected mongrel can.

We were told they were sent to inspire us, the men they are here to command, inspire us to what exactly? The very idea is a mockery in itself. A cruel and twisted joke that even the enemy couldn’t quite top if they tried.

Our superiors told us that they were to inspire us to achieve our goals and great acts of heroism. But that was so very wrong. Like everything else they were nothing a tool, a blunt rusted tool that makes the wounds that causes fester and rot. A way of making us disposable in their schemes, to prove a meat shield between their own worthless hides and the enemies fire. To grind the very deceit we were supposed to love onto our lips forever. They were there to terrorize us into utter and total submission so that all we would do was what we were told, not matter how ridiculously insane to order was. They crushed us into having only one response.
‘Yes, sir!’
Drove us down deep into the ground by the very blood of my friends and comrades.

Sirith, ever my antagonistic. Never one without the other. Always together, never apart. Almost one and the same. Like a brother to me back in our carefree days, before life degraded and crumbled into a mere existence at the hands of other. Yet even in the face of our torment and torture, he still managed a smile and a joke to try and lighten my heavy mood. But like all things in this place, it had no place here and was never meant to be. It simply couldn’t, any ray of light had to be crushed out of us. We had to see only the black so that if we were lucky enough to truly see ‘the light’ that was promised us it would dazzle us, leading us forward.

More like blind us, burn our eyes from our very skulls so we would not see their fabrications for what they truly were, groundless, ridiculous, and empty. And so have to be lead by the hand to our prodigious doom and destruction instead. Ignorant to the silent peril in our mist that hid behind they so-called ‘guarding hand’ that lead us.

And so my dear friend was his own inevitable undoing, though he was never to know his almost sprightly nature was totally alien in so loathsome a place and be seen as vile and had to be destroyed.

A tiny breath of fresh air from our home was blown away but the debased hurricane that passed itself for authority. Singled out over an almost barely recognizable smile at the most inopportune of moments that cost a man his life. It makes me want to vomit with utter loathing to think on it. To think about him - My friend.

28-04-2005, 04:36
This is very dark and nasty. I like it. It's nice to see past the propaganda that is presented as Imperial Doctrine. The game fluff flirts with the cruelty of it, but I've never seen any real, substantial literature going into it. Your main character/narrator is wonderfully introspective and insightful. I would like to know more about him(?) and Sirith, as well as more about Sirith's 'violation.'

Good stuff.

28-04-2005, 13:16
*throws a cookie in Ark's direction*

AS I said before, I was aiming for dark and nasty...and when you're life is only going to be measure in hours when they ship you out, I guess you've got a right to be, well less than impressed by your situation.

The narrartor....well you might get snatches of what 'he's' (still undecided if he's a he or a her....either is possible. Probably a him, but I doubt I'll ever say for certain) like as a person. But I suck at proper direct character developement, so...who knows.
As for Sirith....well it'll be something insigificant blown totally out of propotion (examples usually are).
No I'm just scared of disappointing you guys, so I guess i better not **** about with my fics as I usually do and forget all about them.

Lord of Skulls
28-04-2005, 14:11
Very, very good:)

I'm impressed;) Really looking forward to reading the rest.

(And I havent noticed any mistakes worth mentioning yet either :p )

28-04-2005, 20:41
*hands Lord a cookie*

I look forward to writing more when/if I get a chance.
That or the plot bunnies don't get me first as I've had another idea on something else.

Hideous Loon
28-04-2005, 21:38
Ahh. Your short stories follow the 40k atmosphere very closely. That is some fab reading you've got there. I also like the little side-thingy with Sirith.

28-04-2005, 21:47
*throws loon a cookie*

I'm posting this story on the BL forums too and people there wanted some names and to know a bit more about the character....so I put the friend in to do that but to also provide a catalyst.
Glad he worked!

29-04-2005, 00:28
The game fluff flirts with the cruelty of it, but I've never seen any real, substantial literature going into it.
Never read Gaunt's Ghosts? It's often brought up, though usually not from this POV.

Oh, and i like, of course, very much, yes yes. More more? ^^

29-04-2005, 00:39
*tosses anarchistica another cookie*

Yup, The Ghost do show some of the nitty-gritty of being a footslogger in the IG.

And there will be more....eventually. Fear not!

29-04-2005, 01:40

Examples work best for all to see. And even the most depraved will seek any possible chance to make their examples out of any transgression no matter how small minded and petty they are. And the commissariat do not get more perverse in their ‘inspiration’. To drag a man out like he was no more than some soiled, worthless article to be tossed about is as much an insult to anyone. But to me it was worse. To drag my friend around in such a way was a like a bitter affront to me, yet to have done something there would have made matters much more direr for all. So I stayed still. I stood still in line as Sirith was dragged forward in front of the whole squad so that all eyes were upon him.

The commissar barked something to all of us, but I didn’t hear a single syllable that past his lying lips. Blood was pounding in my ears, my heart hammering in my chest as though it was going to burst. I felt my face starting to turn red for what was happening in front of my disbelieving eyes. I was deaf to his taunts and jibes to our honour and us. Not that we had much of it, if any from what the officers spat when they referred to us.

I watched Sirith quail under his grip, trying hard not to lash out to free himself, for he knew as well as I that it would be useless. If he had, I am under no doubt he wouldn’t have made any difference in the face of the thing in front of him.

He was a skinny thing, wiry and fast but that was no use to him in the grip of that fetid beast. For what it was worth and for his part, my friend did his best and stood his ground even though it was he was terrified. But that foul loathsome monster merely cackled with sickening glee in his very face.

With a truly evil grin, the commissar kicked out at Sirith’s legs. Knocking them from underneath him with bone crushing force. Hearing the bile-rising crack as his leg snapped like dry kindling, I saw red at that very moment and stormed forward, fists balled in rage and ready for violence. Ready to break his head on the rockcrete floor. To smash the smug look for his grotesque face. Or at least I certainly would have done had hands not held me back.

I fought like a feral animal against the hands on the squad. I was disgusted in them for holding me back. Traitors they were in my eyes from that very moment. Scum and charlatans not fit to say they were the same people as I was. And all the while, the cackle of pure, unadulterated enjoyment floated over the din to assail my ears with its repulsive sound.

In the madness of my capture at the hands of people I’d mistaken as comrades, I caught a glimpse of the root of his infuriating injustice. He stood there, bold as brass and trice as ugly laughing at me. Laughing as though I was doing this solely for his own, personal entertainment. And it galled me. That he enjoyed all this hurt that he inflicted upon us for no reason at all. Like the way young boys rip the legs off insects for the sheer hell of it.

‘SILENCE!’ he screamed at us.

29-04-2005, 03:42
Heh, he just lets him bleed to death?

29-04-2005, 13:11
Maybe...maybe not. The actual method od death remains undecided at present.
All depends on how unspeakably evil I'm feeling when I write it.

Lord of Skulls
02-05-2005, 20:53
More! More! We want more! ;)

02-05-2005, 21:53
I'll try but I can't promise anything over the next day or so as I'm busy trying to finish my disseration so locusts are taking over my brain.

But I'll say 'Fear not!' as there will be more.....eventually.
Here have a cookie while you wait

*throws Lord of Skulls a cookie*

02-05-2005, 21:55
You must be running out of cookies by now ;)

But, I really like it. Can't wait to read the rest. This has inspired me to put my half-written story on here sometime. Only thing is it's more my imagination running into overtime with different, never-seen-before races than this cool Imperial doctrine training stuff....

02-05-2005, 23:23
My cookie supply, unlike my time and inspiration is near limitless.
*hands Gobbo a cookie*

And you should just post it anyway, the 41st Millennium is designed for you to do just that...create you're own crazy world and characters to inhabit it.

Lord of Skulls
03-05-2005, 10:19
*Stares out from some strange world only he inhabits*

Of course it is;)

*Eats cookie*

Thanks, by the way:)

04-05-2005, 00:51
You're welcome Skulls

Ok..quick update. It still seems a bit namby-pamby to me, but hopefully I'll get it sorted out. So any help you guys can give would be helpful

The beast rounded on me like I was his favoured prey. I felt the traitorous claws that held me fast falter and then disappear. I was left alone and the Commissar began to stalk forward. I didn’t need to look around to see the cowardly wretches of the platoon had taken about five steps back so they could save their own worthless hides. But I wasn’t afraid of the pompous swine.

I stood up tall; a scowl of disgust written plainly across my face at what was going on. At that action, a slight change briefly cross the commissar’s face. But only for the most cursory of seconds. Then he’s look became almost murderous.

‘You dare try break rank, scum?’ he hissed at me. ‘You dare try to intervene on company punishment?’ he grinned. ‘You dare have the temerity to strike me?’

The scowl I wore twisted itself tighter on my face as he bore down on my as if I would be intimidated by the foulness of his close proximity.

I opened mouth to spit a retort at his ridiculous questions but before my throat could form a single sound, his vice-like fingers clamped around my throat. And with a look of misplaced triumph on his distorted face he began to choke me. To squeeze the very life from my body as he would some helpless animal.

I grit my teeth and strained against the filthy tyrants hand. He would not kill me; he would not have that satisfaction of bringing about my doom. I snarled as I fought for breath, trying hard to shout something, anything toxic and bitter in his face. But what little of my voice I could muster was stolen away from me by an all too familiar sound.

The distinctive crack/hiss of a las weapon.

At first I thought the scum had become bored of strangling me and shot me instead. After all he believed he have the authority to do that to anyone they wish. The sound shocked me into utter silence. We had only been here a short time and already I knew almost distinctly the sound of the weapons we had been issued.

I glanced down at myself, excepting to see a hole in my chest, cauterised and round. But no such luck. My existence was to go on, to persist in this hypocritical cesspit called the Imperium.

Blood glistened like a precious jewel on the shoulder of the commissar’s greatcoat. It’s ruddy hues catching what little light filtered down on this infernal pit of misery. Whoever had fired must have either been a truly lousy shot or had fired to get his attention. Unfortunately I suspected the former.

04-05-2005, 02:33
The beast rounded on my like I was his favoured prey.

his vice like fingers clamped around my throat.

The distinctive crack/hiss of a las weapon.

After all he believed have the authority to do that to anyone they wish.
The things in bold should be: 'me', 'vice-like' (i think, not a star at English grammar/spelling stuff), 'crack' and 'he believed to'.

Other than that, blabla it's good blabla we want more blabla i want a chocolate cookie. :p :)

04-05-2005, 02:47
Thanks anarchistica...I'm only human and I only have the most basic handle on the english language. That's why I have a big back of cookies for distribution for people who contribute and review.

*gives anarchistica a cookie*

And I take it that the fic is still ok, or are you just all demanding my cookies from me?

04-05-2005, 03:19
Yes it is good and we want more, as i said.

Also, i requested a chocolate cookie, i'm mighty disappointed now and will have to go get a real chocolate cookie downstairs now. :(

04-05-2005, 03:21
Well I never specified what sort of cookies I'm handing out...so there :p

04-05-2005, 20:57
I like where this is going! In the second sentence, did you mean "the traitorous claws that held me fast" where you wrote "held be fast"? I'm still a little fuzzy on what exactly happened to Sirith, though. It's not clear whether the commisar killed him or not. Keep writing!

04-05-2005, 23:59
*hands Ark a cookie*

I thought I'd corrected the second sentence...thanks for pointing it out.

And Sirith's fate is still to be written...so at the moment he's still lying on the ground with at least one broken leg.
His furture is still to be disclosed.

But other than that, I'm glad you're enjoying it!
*dances a happy dance*

Lord of Skulls
06-05-2005, 23:04
It's still very good:) Keep writing! (And no, I'm not just saying this to get a cookie;) )

06-05-2005, 23:09
*hands Skulls a cookie*

Well you'll have to wait a couple of days coz I'm not at home this weekend and I've left my pen-drive with the stroy on at home.
But I'll hopefully update soon.

09-05-2005, 00:53
An update hot off the keyboard so expect mistakes aplenty.
Hopefully, I get to the nasty bit in the next day or so...so you'll just have to put up with a rather tepid update. i'll try and make it better, i swear!

Without releasing his grip on my throat, the commissar glanced at his shoulder, the look on his face showing that he couldn’t quite believe it himself. It was quite gratifying to see. Incomprehensibility of what had just occurred. That someone could raise and fire a weapon at him must have seemed like a total impossibility to his deluded mind.

He began to shake with rage, throwing me around as though I were nothing more than a rag-doll shaken by an insolent child in a foul temper. It was then I saw the poor doomed fool who had pulled the trigger. I was unsurprised.

Lying on the ground, looking increasingly pale as shock started to set in as well as the pain from the break, Sirith was propped up with his las pistol still raised and smoking. I so wished I could shout him a warning. Tell him to run, to get out, and to spare his life. But it was pointless. Even if he hadn’t have been unnecessarily crippled, and I was able to shout a warning, it probably would have put both our heads in the noose for something I certainly would not have considered a crime. The destruction of tyranny was supposed to be one thing the members of the Imperium were meant to be free of.

And if I had had have the power of foresight, I would have tried to call out. Warned him, fought harder against the animal that held me. Even tried to finish the scum off myself for what he had done for no discernibly logic reason. Anything to saved me for the torment that I was yet to endure at his hands.

With a roar of unbridled hatred, the commissar threw me to the ground. I hit the rockcrete hard and blacked out for a moment. Allowing the blackness to embrace me. To take me away from this desolate and hateful place. And part of me wished that I would never wake. To stay here in oblivion was indefinitely preferable to that life. Yet my blood screamed out for revenge.

When I came too, people I didn’t know were callously manhandling me onto my feet. The same thing was happening to Sirith, yet, unlike myself he did not fight his captures. He knew his life was over at that moment and so felt there was no reason to postpone inevitable. Nor to give in to their plot to make him descend into utter panic and degrade himself.

It made sense. After all, this was still all just part of the example making process for the moronic individuals who could not see what our superiors for the nasty pieces of filth they are. They wanted Sirith to fight. To show the others that it was impossible to win against them, no matter how hard you may struggle. But Sirith would deny them that one small satisfaction. He would not fight or beg for his life.

I was much less co-operative. I thrashed and jerked, shouted and screamed every obscenity I knew. But all that got me was a smack around the mouth from one of the men clutching me arm so tightly my fingers were starting to go numb.

‘Shut up!’ he hissed at me and followed it up with a savage backhanded swipe. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. It was meant as an insult. A blow used to silence an unruly child that would not do as it was told. Or a disobedient animal. The blow was sharp and quick, stinging my cheek. But it did its job; it silenced me for a moment from the shock of the strike.

Then I heard it. The malicious tones of the commissar as he addressed everyone, a look or great triumph on his face. I knew what he was to say. After all, we were bidden to read and learn every word of our Primer and there could be only one out come of what had just happened.

Lord of Skulls
09-05-2005, 01:20
Wonderful! (If you can use a word like that about somethig this grim :p)
Very well written, and a nicely described "feeling" of how the situation is.

I can hardly wait to read more of this;)

(There are two or three spelling mistakes, but I'm too tired to find them and point them out now... I'll do it tomorrow if no-one else has.)

Lovely work! Keep it up:)

09-05-2005, 03:11
You've got a double negative ("didn't not") in the sixth paragraph. And the last sentence in the third paragraph ("For the destruction of tyranny was supposed to be one thing the members of the Imperium were meant to be free of.") is a little confusing in it's tense.

The plot is progessing brilliantly. I can't wait to find out what happens to the protagonist from here on out.

Lord Balor
09-05-2005, 07:13
Dammit Xhalax, i wish i could write First person as well as you! Theres a couple of mistakes, but nothing that puts the reader off the brillient story you've conjurered. Now whats the secret, are you taking special writers pills :p

Lord of Skulls
09-05-2005, 08:06
As I promised here are the two mistakes I found:

"a rag-doll shaken but an insolent child"

"And part of my wished that I"

Should be "by" and "me" respective.

That's all I found. I just got up, though, so there might be more;)

09-05-2005, 11:05
That is really good - I love the way Sirith tried to save the narrator. I'm worrying now about what's going to happen to them - I need the next instalment! :)

That is really good. Keep up the good work!

*eats cookie from last time*

09-05-2005, 11:33
*hands out cookies to all*

I'm surprised there wasn't more mistakes than there was (hopefully they've all been corrected). Damn lack of sleep!

But I'm still glad that you're all still enjoying this. And I should have the next update in a day or two and it'll be lovely and nasty.
*laughs in a suitably evil manner*

Balor, as for writing first person. My only trick is the fact that the main character is me.
I put myself in the exact same position as the main character and basically spill my own thoughts and feelings on the situation onto the page for all to see. So in essense, you're all getting a little view into my mind (scary, eh?).

I may be able to write first person, but it's good ol' normal 3rd person where I fall down. I try to write stuff in 3rd person but I find it hard not to slip into 1st. But as a challenge, my next story (which i have planned out but won't start til this is finished) will be written in 3rd person, so we'll see how that goes.

Lord Balor
09-05-2005, 12:42
*hands out cookies to all*

I'm surprised there wasn't more mistakes than there was (hopefully they've all been corrected). Damn lack of sleep!

But I'm still glad that you're all still enjoying this. And I should have the next update in a day or two and it'll be lovely and nasty.
*laughs in a suitably evil manner*

Balor, as for writing first person. My only trick is the fact that the main character is me.
I put myself in the exact same position as the main character and basically spill my own thoughts and feelings on the situation onto the page for all to see. So in essense, you're all getting a little view into my mind (scary, eh?).

I may be able to write first person, but it's good ol' normal 3rd person where I fall down. I try to write stuff in 3rd person but I find it hard not to slip into 1st. But as a challenge, my next story (which i have planned out but won't start til this is finished) will be written in 3rd person, so we'll see how that goes.

Note to Self: Never annoy or hold back Xhalax...

Well i'll take in that advice as i've just started to touch upon 1st person after years of third person. Just a few things with third person to help ya along basically replace the I's with the characters name for all those personal feelings/thoughts and use words such as He and his for actions. Just make sure you've got enough characters to switch between (Which is the big advantage to 3rd) as there is only so long and so much detail you can spend before it slips back to 1st person.

Can't wait for the next instillment and do ya mind if i save it to Word (Which will then be placed in a folder with other favourite fanfiction(s) by other posters?

09-05-2005, 16:13
I have a problem with characters. Character development on more than a singular scale is difficult...that's why I can't write 3rd person.
I don't mind if you save it into Word. I mean I have about 3/4 copies of the fic in varies states and in varies locations.

The next installment may be done a lot later on tonight (if I decided to go out at all), but I have my plan so it shouldn't take too long. If not, tomorrow. Promise! I need a break from revision anyway.

As for not annoying and holding me back, well i guess I'd have a right to be really pissed off if someone is stopping me. But would I do something about it. Not really, I'm a puch-over in person.

09-05-2005, 21:54
The next installment may be done a lot later on tonight (if I decided to go out at all), but I have my plan so it shouldn't take too long. If not, tomorrow. Promise!
You do realise we stick to Middle-Eastern law-enforcement methods around here, right? If you steal, we cut off your hand. If you rape, we cut off your fireman. If you lie....^_^

Lord of Skulls
09-05-2005, 22:26
Just don't cut of her hands, so she can still type:p

10-05-2005, 00:51
Well I could always learn to type with my feet.
Anyway...on with the update, as promise

‘Under article 3680/35k of the Principals and Regulations of the God-Emperor’s Imperial Guard, it clearly states for this transgression, drawing a weapon upon a superior officer with the intention of inflicting violence upon him is punishable only by death.’ The Commissar stated with the over-exaggerated air of superiority. ‘These….pieces of spineless filth’ he indicated to both Sirith and myself ‘have contravened said article though they knew full well the consequences of their actions.’
He started to pace backwards and forwards in front of the platoon, booming every word for the whole training ground to hear, which by this point in time was as silent as a grave world where the tiniest of whispers could easily be heard.

The wound of his shoulder still glistened slightly and has he marched in front of his, showing it off as though it were a great trophy. His bloated chest was puffed out like some massively oversized swamp-dwelling amphibian. No doubt the ignorant buffoon thought it made him look even more imposing and threatening.

‘Never, in my long career in his glorious majesty’s Guard have I witness such despicable behaviour in two of it’s recruits. Nor in an entire platoon, for this blame falls squarely upon you all. For all you miserable maggots should have spotted such disgusting behaviour and reported it immediately.’

At these words, I felt eyes boring into the back of my skull from some of the others, undisguised hatred evident in the air. It was like an over-powering stench that I couldn’t ignore. The rest, I almost heard their jaws drop in utter disbelief at what had just been said. Then after a moment, I felt their burning gazes on my back when the realisation that this wasn’t a joke set in. Joining with the others as though their stares could kill me and stop them from being punished.

By this time, I could no longer hear what the wretched cur said, I was furious to the point of apoplexy and heartily renewed my fight to get to him and beat the words back into him, along with his face. How he even dared say such things, I found baffling in the extreme. But worse was to come.

With a look of pure, unadulterated evil and unmitigated pleasure he announced his sentence. ‘If such an actions to have been allowed to occur, you shall all be flogged for your abominable laxity in this matter. And for that, you have your ‘friends’ to thank’ he exclaimed with as much venom as he could.

‘You!’ he pointed at me ‘you shall be flogged to within an itch or your life and then branded for the gutless coward that you are. You will bolster this platoon to work harder to erase the stain of dishonour that has been flung across it. With a living example of stepping out of line in their mist, they will not step out of line again and nor will you. For every failure you commit, all will be punished.’ He smirked at me, but I was too far-gone to properly take in what was going on.

It was truly unbelievable. I felt as though I was dreaming. Yes, that was what it was, all just a dream. A nightmare concocted by me unconscious mind as I lay on the floor from being thrown there. It had to be. But I was so desperately wrong. Next he rounded on Sirith.

Sirith was now white in pallor, though the reason for it, I could only guess at. ‘Recruit, I pass sentence on you now.’ He had a look of a cat that had just caught a huge mouse and thought it best to play with it first before delivering the killing blow. ‘You will not be shot, as the Primer suggests. As I have already said, never before have a seen such diabolical things in any regiment I have served in.’ to emphasise his point, though the emphasis only proved how much of a fool he was as it only accentuated the total irony of his words, he kicked Sirith’s broken leg, making his scream out in pain.

With a foul simper he continued ‘I most certainly do not wish it to happen again! You are to be hung by the neck until you are dead and so’ he laughed quietly to himself ‘as an example and reminder to all, that my authority is second only to that of the Emperor himself, you corpse will left out and not be buried’

Sirith’s face dropped. On our world, not to be buried was a thing on total nightmare.
‘Your body will be left on view for all to see rot. To see canker that cowardice brings’ His mocking laugh rang out again. He knew that our beliefs were such that to be left out for the carrion birds to devour was assign of ultimate shame.

‘Take them away’ he shouted, waving a dismissive hand has though we were nothing to be concerned about.

10-05-2005, 21:55
Quite entertaining, though i wonder if a whole platoon would allow just 1 guy to get them all flogged.

"Surely he was murdered by some vicious Xeno-freak during the night, we only found out about it in the morning, Sir."


10-05-2005, 22:03
Yes, I know....though whether everyone actually gets flogged is another matter.
In truth, I feel it's just an empty threat and the whole platoon won't actually get flogged. They'll see Sirith hanged and go sniveling up to the Commisar.

As you said, the main character would turn up dead pretty quickly if that was to happen.

Glad you found it entertaining though!

16-05-2005, 20:50
Slight change to the last update...but other than that, nothing new to report.
Sorry guys, damn exams!
*shakes her fist*

25-05-2005, 01:37
Short update as I was so sick and tired of doing work so I needed a break.....so I'm not entirely sure how this'll come out as my mind is all out of synch and messed up enough as it is.

Physical pain is something that you can learn to deal with. Hide it, suppress it, control it or learn to like it, but never let it conquer you. We learnt that on our home planet early in life, as most do. And I learnt it as well as anyone. Physical pain I can deal with and so I took my licks like a man. On my feet and never once did I cry out no matter how hard they beat me. Nor did I beg for mercy, for them to stop, not even when the pain and blood loss got so bad that I collapsed. Physical pain can be controlled that must I am certain of. It’s the emotion pain that cuts the deepest.

Forever will that image be burnt into my mind like the brand that was given to my flesh on that day. A horror that can never truly be realised by anyone who has never seen it for themselves. I have seen the people I know murdered in front of me, but never before or since have I witness a friend’s life tossed aside so carelessly.

As they flogged me, I was forced to watch the death of my friend. To stand and bare witness to the atrocities that are carried out in the name of so-called divine power as a lesson to all. I watched Sirith hung like some common petty criminal and all because he had the moral dignity and courage to stand up against the tyranny of the Commissariat.

The rope snapped tight but he was not granted peace from this life of degradation so easily. The fall and sharp stop did not break his neck and so we looked on as he choked to death. All the time I demand that I did not cry out or vomit at the scene before my eyes.

The life slowly drained from my dearest friend and I was truly left alone in this universe. For the first time in my life I was terrified. The one thing of the old life was snatched away from me and I felt myself tumble forward and sink into the quagmire of despair. But that was not the last of it.

Every day we would be paraded past Sirith’s body as it rotted, myself included after receiving only the minimal about of care needed for the injustice done upon me. We marched past and had to salute his decaying corpse as though it were some holy icon. So we would remember the price of insurrection and disobedience.

This was the most abhorrent thing for all of us. Not to return our dead to the ground so that others might live from their flesh. To watch the carrion crows feast and grow fat off Sirith’s flesh. But my torment was just beginning.

25-05-2005, 03:01
*enter the Patron*

Again, very entertaining, i like the Commissar very much. :D

Also, and this goes for anyone who writes here, you'll probably get more feedback on Fanfiction.net (http://www.fanfiction.net/l/762/3/0/1/1/0/0/0/1/)

25-05-2005, 05:35
*throws anarchistica a cookie*

And I'm under no doubt that you might like that swine a little bit more as it progresses. Well here's hoping anyway! Though I've just done the wrong thing in my sleep deprived state...I've just started another story that I've been thinking about for a month or so.

Eeep. But since I don't have a name for my main character yet, I'd say that it may not progress as quickly as Betrayal....but it is about Space Wolves so I might not be able to resist. Plus it means sitting reading Space Wolf fluff for background so I'm not grumbling.

Anyhoo....if another story appears before this not is finished, you all have premission to jab me with big sticks until I finish this one.

27-05-2005, 00:54
Enjoy anarchistica....coz you seem to be the only one who actively reads my story. Or at least reads and reviews it!

From being young, I was told tales of people that had weathered such hardships that could only be described as unimaginable in their intensity and strength. Surviving despite all the odd and coming out of their ordeals stronger and more determined that before. Of heroes forged from hell to stride out of their torment, head held high to the adage ‘What does not kill you only makes you stronger.’

Lies, all filthy lies. Told to children so that won’t feel so bad when the meat-grinding monstrosity of the Imperium descends upon them like a beast from the same tales. So they won’t fight back when they are treat worse then vermin for someone else’s end. To keep them compliant though they may wish for death, or worse. All for a foul scheme to subdue us all into giving our lives in the name of something that we cannot explain or even allowed to ponder.

After Sirith’s death, Hell seemed like it would have been a better option. Or a softer one at least. My transgression stood me out for every indignity that the squad and more so the Commissar could come up with. Tasks, impossible tasks that no mere man could accomplish under those circumstances. And for every slip I made, he was there. There to gloat over my errors and dish out my punishments with a certain high degree of relish. Severe punishments for the tiniest of faults.

And for every misdemeanour that the bastard Commissar supposedly witnessed, I was blamed and dealt with and the squad lost privileges. And in their turn dealt out worse retribution than anything the Commissar could come up with. But he had stirred the vindictiveness in the cowardly hearts, and so they made me suffer. They beat me, and tortured me but they never went far enough. Always leaving me to heal and still be able to perform my duties.

It was the perfect crime for them. They took out their frustrations upon me, and I was powerless to stop them. I tried. I tried so hard to fight back but it was no use. Although when I fought they’d hit me harder. Sometimes hard enough to land me in the relative safety of the medical bay. But my sanctuary never lasted very long. The Commissar always got wind of my movements, and within minutes he was declaring me fit and sending me out for some clandestine treatment for the amusement of the squad.

Yet still this occurred. I weathered such things and lived, but I felt no stronger. Not physically or mentally. In truth I was deteriorating. I longed for death, I begged for it. I break from the misery of this existence that had been thrust upon me. Why was such a thing allowed to continue unnoticed? Why was I the target for this malicious onslaught of degradation? In truth I knew why. It was to break me. To break whatever rebellious spirit they thought I possessed. That had made me stand up for my friend that day. To crush me into utter submission yet not to loose cannon fodder in the process to clog up the enemy’s gun barrels, while monsters worse than the filth we fought could steal the glory for themselves.

And it worked!

27-05-2005, 06:18
Enjoy anarchistica....coz you seem to be the only one who actively reads my story. Or at least reads and reviews it!
Well i am the self-appointed Patron of this forum, after all. :p

Again, interesting and original, and i really didn't expect that end. Or is it? I hope not!

Anyway, once you've finished this (if ever), or now, you should compile it and post it on fanfiction.net too, you'll likely get replies from people who are not me.

Oh, and have a Rep boost, for all of your stuff combined. :)

Lord Balor
27-05-2005, 12:21
Enjoy anarchistica....coz you seem to be the only one who actively reads my story. Or at least reads and reviews it!

Bah! I've Read Every little bit and even have it saved in a seperate folder within my Portent Fanfiction collection (A Place that was usually reserved for Try Again Bragg (Where did he ever go?)). The reason i havn't really posted much lately is that I've got one week until my Uni Exams and have a LOT of catching up to do (True Blue Uni Bum :D ). Its taken a lot of self restraint to visit here briefly with a quick look at 40K general & Stories n Art before heading out in the morning. (I havn't even had time for my own :( )

Great work as usual Xhalax and i can't wait for your next story!

Lord of Skulls
27-05-2005, 12:43
Hey, I'm still here! And I still like you writing a lot:)

I pop in here to read every once in a while, but lately I've been a little distracted, so I've forgotten to post :o

Well, anyway... I love what you're writing, and I really hope that isn't the end...
And if it is, I'll be looking out for your next story ;)

27-05-2005, 20:27
*tosses cookies to all*

I've been hellishly busy myself with exams. But that's over now. And this isn't the end.....there is still more to come and since I don't have much else to occupy my mind, hopefully I'll update on a more regular basis than I have.
And try and lay off the Space Wolf thoughts.

Lord of Skulls
27-05-2005, 23:06
I'm glad to hear that's not the end:)

Really lloking forward to reading more:D And I'll make sure to post comments once in a while, so you know I'm still here;)

27-05-2005, 23:15
Nope...not the end. I have breaking and death still to complish

28-05-2005, 22:19
Removed coz I'm not happy with it and to save you all from losing faith.

29-05-2005, 02:29
Ok, for how long is this guy gonna keep on whining? Does he have a Livejournal yet? And a camsite with pics of him wearing gothy make up? :p :D

Just kidding, but be careful not to overdo this, it can get tedious and it tends towards tedious a bit here, probably because it doesn't seem to "flow". Not even Snoop Dogg (or whatever he's called these days) could get this out of his mouth sounding smoothly.

For one thing, it seems a tad weird that they turn on him so very quickly and that he only had one friend or person who liked him before this. Would they really turn on him so easily? Maybe, but don't push it too far, don't make his name make the dictionary as being an insult or something.

Secondly, tell us something more about what is being done to him. Do they tackle him when he's carrying his plate with his lunch? Do they fry his hair with low-level lasgun shots? What are they doing exactly, i'm wondering. A bit more action and a bit less thinking might help.

Thirdly, where are the chaos gods? They would love this kind of person, an outcast with good reason to hate his colleagues. I can hear Khorne and Nurgle fighting over him already!

Finally, don't make this guy too much like yourself. We all know the Empire is fethed up, but this guy ain't no white. middle-class person of above average intelligence from Europe, it's someone who's born in the Imperium and was indoctrinated from birth. Some realisation of it all being a farce is fine, but be careful not to make him too much like us.

Do i still get a cookie after tearing you apart? ^_^

29-05-2005, 11:13
I knew there something not right about this bit.

*hands out a cookie*

I'll see what I can do with it.....though it may not appear in the next few days as I've got things to do, places to go, people to meet etc.

31-05-2005, 00:02
It may be some time before I update....personal crisis that doesn't really make me feel like writing.
Sorry guys!

Lord of Skulls
01-06-2005, 10:17
:cries: :( :cries:

Well... I just hope you finish the story some time...

01-06-2005, 11:24
I will....I don't want to let you guys down.
But writing is the last thing on my mind right now. But hopefully.....soon!

Lord Balor
03-06-2005, 10:41
I will....I don't want to let you guys down.
But writing is the last thing on my mind right now. But hopefully.....soon!

Don't rush and let things settle down before you write up more. I've been in pretty tight situations more often than not (Usually my own fault being to stubborn and proud to let anyone help) so to an extent i know how hard it can be.

Make through it alright, get whatever it is out of your system and know you have our support (More likely our want of a good story than personal conditions :evilgrin: ).

Can't wait for the next installment!

06-06-2005, 00:18
Ok....we have a brief new bit. Totally different from what you had the misforuntune to glance at before.
I feel better about where this is going....though I'm unsure if it contradicts what I've already done. So I'd like some opinions on this little piece in itself, as well as if it fits in with the rest.
Bearing in mind that Chaos has no part in this story as the character is just one little person in a sea of squillions and so is easily over looked.
Plus the character is going to be broken into either believing whats been said in some way, or just broken in the case not caring anymore (I'm unsure of exactly which, probably the former).


Conformity. That is what I have had all my life. The need to be the same as everyone else, to do the same and to think and believe in what we are told. But standing up for Sirith and myself, I had broken that. I had singled myself out in more ways than one by refusing to take the Commissars tyranny over us all. Was I wrong to do that?

For the briefest of moments, the thought I was wrong passed through my head. That my actions were incorrect and I have no right to strike one who was deemed higher in the order of things that I was. But the next blow would hit me and that thought was gone. The boot in my ribs, or the cold leather of a las strap across my back, if I was lucky and it wasn’t getting pistol whipped instead, always brought me back to the reality of my situation. That in this physical existence, I was alone.

All were eventually against me in some way, as I had not taken to their version of authority. And in my quiet defiance, since out-right insubordination meant death; I lost all my comrades as they were punished in my unknown honour.

Two years our training lasted. Two years of wretchedness brought me to the brink of whatever had been inside me that rebelled. I knew that with the training over, my life would be forfeit, as no one would care what was to happen to me. Only that I was shot first before they were.

Lord Balor
06-06-2005, 02:13
Well what can i say, 10 Pages long, 5500 words and still going strong. You've really gotten into the mindset of the guardsmen (Who i'll never shoot at again after reading this...bah at this rate i might as well give up 40K altogether :P).

This is it, he's finished his training and all hell is about to break loose. Will he break, will he rebel or will he fall under the grinding IMperial War Machine. So many questions...

06-06-2005, 02:19
*hands Balor a cookie*

Yes, spare a thought for those poor fools that sign up/are recruited with they shoddy weaponary and armour. Then smite them where they stand for getting in your way. I know I do....and I enjoy it. That'll teach them to try and kill the Sons of Russ, lost for 10,000 years.

Anyhoo....I feel I still have a touch of explaning left about things through training that are to be expanded on. But i'll try not to get to bogged down in it as I have mass murder to commit to these poor grunts.

But I feel this short is coming to its natural conclusion....another couple of thosand words should do it (the limit is 7000 words). Then its Space Wolves all the way after that. Well that's if I can bare to leave the paint and my new Nids alone.

Lord Balor
06-06-2005, 02:33
New Nids? New Nids? No I will not collect a third edition of Tyranids...Must resist temptation....But that carnifex looks so sweet and cuddley...No, think unsexy thoughts
Thats right Balor, you bought a Guard army recently, no need to go further into debt with student fees and rego...

*Wipes brow*

That was a close one, i've been trying to avoid even the mention of them who shall not be named. Now can you give us poor readers a hint or two about Space Wolf and what perspective it will be in. Its Exam time and i need to keep myself occupied....

06-06-2005, 02:51
The sexiness of the Fex is.....well...lets just say I squealed with delight when I got my Battle Force. And, lamentably I'm not joking either
*hangs her head in shame*

Anyhoo....Space Wolf story, written in 3rd person (go me) and the title gives all away as I've called it 'The Curse' and since i'm such a nasty person at heart (even to my beloved Sons of Russ)....lets just say that it's not going to be all fluff puppies and beer by the end of it.
Though only problem, I don't have a clear cut end point for the story....unlike Betrayal. So it could be a long and drawn out fic that I could end up getting bored with. That and I'll have to do a shed load of research to get it right.

But that's some way off, coz although I know more or less what's going to happen in the story, I haven't even named my main character yet. One thing I always find very hard.
At least with first person I don't have to name my characters. I leave that up to you guys to fill in all the finer details.
I'm fiendish like that.

And so far 'The Curse' is only just over 200 words long....so there is a lot of room for improvement. But I swore to you all that I'd finish this fic first, so my cubs will have to wait

06-06-2005, 05:34
Nifty. I'm quite impressed by this story Xhalax, and that's even before I take into account the cookie bribes. They get into the mindset of the Imperial Guard very nicely, particularly the brutality of the commissars, and the feel of one person amongst squillions.

I picked out a couple of grammer errors and the like, but I'm feeling tired, and too exammed out to put together a comprehensive list. I'll do it in a couple of days, when I've got a bit of a break in the study schedule.

Barring that piece of eventually constructive criticism, this is a rather nice piece of work.

06-06-2005, 09:32
*hands Donut a cookie*

Constructive critisms is always appreciated.
My handle on the english language isn't the best...even though i'm a native speaker of it. So any help I can get on sorting it out/where I've gone wrong is great....and kinda what I look for in a review as I have no beta read.

But I'm glad you're enjoying the story too. 'tis half the battle done if people like it.