View Full Version : Demuis Reapers: A Bloody Toll

23-07-2010, 19:17

‘To fight alongside such men as the Reapers was both a privilege and farking nightmare. They are madmen, tough as an Orgryns undergarments, but madmen none the less.’
Major Plius’ personal Memoirs

‘Move up, GO GO GO’ screamed Captain Tremeson, 3rd Battalion, 5th Platoon, 2nd Company of the Demuis Reapers (what a bloody mouthful), as he sent his soldiers towards the enemy. ‘Trem, Qoot, Hunter, up and at ‘em’. The three men ran from cover and quickly exploded into grisly, gory puffs of red. ‘Oh Frak’ was his response.

They were pinned down by one, maybe two heavy weapons, auto’s probably by the sound of the recoil spring. He always enjoyed using that weapon, because of the ‘poing poing poing’ noise it made as it popped off the solid rounds. It reminded him of his childhood, growing up in Tuth, in particular his jack in the box. It made almost the same sound as it jumped out at him. It always made him smile when he heard that noise. But not now, he had just lost another three men, three good men. That was to add to the other dozen or so he had already lost today. He was running out of ideas, he was pinned down and he needed to push forward. His IC Major Kenierarson would have his rank if he didn’t finish this assault. But they had tried everything, well almost everything.
‘Tweedles, you’re up’. The two men he was referring to wandered over to him and both saluted curtly. Tweedledee and Tweedledum they were mockingly known as, Rudi and Lemmy Kark. They were first battalion, but somehow got separated and ended up with Tremeson, he wasn’t going to waste their “talents”. They were Genehanced ‘freaks’, it was rumoured that they were partway through transformation to Astartes, when they were dumped, or got lost, either explanation was believable. Both standing at least eight feet tall, probably more. They were huge figures, and both dumb as a mule. But they seemed almost invincible and being in the first battalion, they were armoured and armed with superior equipment to the other battalions. They were never seen apart, almost shadows of each other and always seem to do everything exactly the same at exactly the same time.
‘Feeling lucky?’ he asked.
‘Always sir’, they replied simultaneously.
‘Good’ he smirked. ‘We’re pinned down, auto’s I reckon. I need you boys to take them out. Up to it?’
They smiled back, their simple minds seemed to understand praise of sorts, and they liked it. ‘Aye Cappin’.
‘We will try and cover, go on three’ he rounded up a few more men to give cover. ‘One...Two...Three’. He and his men started firing towards the emplacements as best they could. The Tweedles just stood still, looking at him. ‘They can’t bloody count’ he sighed to himself. ‘Go boys Go’, he shouted waving them onwards. They nodded and slowly moved from cover, their upsized hellguns held ready to fire. They walked about 12 paces and stood, in the wide open plaza, completely immune to the barrage of incoming fire. Tremeson shook his head in disbelief; he was always amazed when he saw this happen.
Rounds panged off the walls and floor around them, hell, some of the rounds panged off them. But they were immovable. A few more paces forward and, simultaneously as always, aimed and fire off a burst from their hellguns. The plaza fell silent. They were dumb, but damn could they shoot.
‘All dun cappin’. They said as they trudged back over to Temeson’s position.
He patted them both on the shoulder and said ‘Good work as always boys’. They seemed to like this and grinned widely. ‘Move it out guys’ he said as he carefully led his Platoon across the open area. He pressed his ear stud, activating his vox.
‘Tremeson to Schultz’
‘Go ahead Trem’ crackled the reply.
‘I borrowed some of your boys, but the plaza is secure’
‘Rudi and Lemmy?’
‘How on earth did you guess’ Tremeson mockingly replied.
Schultz laughed ‘Good work Trem, you can keep them a little longer if you need to’
‘Thanks for the offer, we will be linking up with you soon, I will return them in a decent condition then’
‘See you soon, Out’
Tremeson turned back to his men ‘Right men, up and at ‘em’ he bellowed. There was a collective sigh all round at his signature remark, but they followed him, they always would.


Son of Sanguinius
23-07-2010, 19:37
Could use a little fine tuning, but all in all, it was a fun little read. :) The "Tweedles" were a nice touch.

29-07-2010, 21:07
that was a really enjoyable little read fella, i particularly enjoyed the comic relief of the 'tweedles'
lookign forward to reading some more amigo! :)

02-08-2010, 08:42
Chapter one - Part One

‘Would I use them again you ask? Everytime. They may not do things by the book, but they are damn effective’
General Yuga

Demu was a decent sized planet, in the middle of nowhere, that made no difference to the way the Imperium ran. It grew crops for the surrounding system, but more importantly, produced soldiers and that’s what mattered. The name ‘Reapers’ came about after much deliberation at the divisions founding. The most prominent name to start with were the ‘Demuis Cornheads’ but that was quickly laughed down. Eventually the name was decided due to their farming background, other names such as the ‘sickles’ and ‘scythes’ were thrown into the mix. But they just didn’t sound aggressive enough. The Reapers was finally chosen after almost a week of talks were held, their use of the scythe linked them nicely to the mythical figure of the grim reaper, and thus the Demuis Reapers were born.

As a green division, the Reapers went largely unnoticed and didn’t have the most successful initiation to war. They stuck to protocol and all rules and regulations were followed by the book……mistake! It wasn’t until their founding General, Guritz Simi, was ‘accidentally’ led into a mine field by his second in command and subsequently killed, that the Reapers started to get into their stride. Succeeded by General Hal Halerson, who had successfully worked his way up through the ranks within various other units. He was a front liner, a no nonsense hardcore commander and to a degree, a rule breaker. That’s what he brought to the Reapers and that’s what made them the Division they are today. If asked who their first CO was, most Reapers will say Halerson, as Simi didn’t command a damn thing! And what Halerson started, his successors followed, right up until the present day. Now led by the renowned Felix Omaris, the Reapers are still known to be one hell of a fighting force, but they don’t entirely play by the book. When confronted about their ways, the Reapers say they merely ‘customise’ their tactics, to fit the battle, which up until now has been swallowed as a legitimate answer. When really, it’s just because the rules and regulations they are supposed to abide by are ‘frakking useless’ and were ‘clearly written by some pencil pusher who has never held a lasrifle in his life’ (quoted by Hal Halerson). And has on more than one occasion, earnt them the attention of the Inquisition, as the Reapers’ actions have been deemed ‘heretical’. But nothing has ever come of these complaints, in fact quite recently a complaint was sent from a Major from the Sargan Deathtreads, about the Reapers actions. And once more they were investigated, more specifically by an Inquisitor called Vector Varkarius. But he found nothing untoward, only a force that thinks on their feet during conflict. So impressed was he, that he has attached himself to the Reapers on a semi permanent basis, utilising their abilities when hunting down a particularly stubborn heretic.

And that’s where this story truly begins, within the confines of Varkarius’ personal quarters, on his own ship, the ‘Lance of Divination’. He stood in a simple robe, his gleaming golden power armour, adorned with the symbol of the inquisition on one pauldron, the Skull and cross Scythes of the Reapers on the other. A roaring Lion’s head was carved into the chestplate, and visions of his former hunts lavishly painted onto every space available. He was around six foot four. Not overly tall by today’s standards, but he was a well built man, with a tense, rippling frame. His aura commanded authority and when he was clad in his armour, he struck fear. Not just because of his look, but because of his rank. His shaven head also depicted his former victories, there didn’t seem to be an inch of space on his bulky frame that didn’t, and deep set within his skull were too ice grey eyes. It was said that his eyes could both read guilt within a second and get a woman in bed in two.

Stood alongside his was a squat, but stocky, man. He was overall darker in appearance, his skin almost ebony. Thick sideburns, linking to a black moustache, which framed thick lips. His eyes were dark, almost as dark as his skin and barely visible. It was almost as if he has no eyes at all. He was a mere five feet and 3 inches tall, towered over by Vakarius. The man was fully clad in his battle plate; dark red armour covered most of his torso, arms and thighs. He held a visored helm in the crook of his left arm, and bore a sharp sabre on his back. His right shoulder guard also showed the skull and scythes of the Reapers, this man was none other than General Felix Omaris, overall commander of the Demuis Reapers, in control of almost five thousand men and one hundred and fifty battle tanks. To look at, he wasn’t much of a man, but after five minutes talking to him, his charisma would entice you in. His men would follow him to the end of the galaxy and back, most had, and would do so for the rest of their lives.

To be continued....


02-08-2010, 10:54
very enjoyable fella, some nice dramatic phrases in there and some nicely inspiring stuff. looking forward to your next instalment.

07-08-2010, 03:11
Chapter one- Part Two

There were 4 other men stood with them, they were all deep in discussion. Colonel’s Dolan Solace, 1st Battalion. Dupilous Jarr, 3rd Battalion. Helix Braater, 5th armoured and Major Jozy Svorbal, 6th sniper. They were all nodding along as Vakarius and Omaris spoke and pointed out various features on a holopict. It was a holo of a planet, Revarden according to the graphs around it.
“So I have chosen your three battalions and your company respectively” Omaris said giving a dutiful nod to Major Svorbal. “To accompany the good inquisitor here to Revarden”.
Vakarius looked around and nodded at each man in turn, making sure eye contact was made with each of them. He respected them and they respected him, it was a healthy relationship between them all. Vakarius spoke for the first time during the meeting, his voice a deep resonant boom, matching his position and persona to a tee.
“I thank you all for your assistance. It is not mandatory, so please feel free to decline. Neither I nor the General will hold any grudge. Those feelings are only for the enemy.” He said with a slight smile, which echoed around the room and eased the tension. “Do not be fooled though, this will not be a walk in the crop field.” Vakarius was not from and had never seen Demu, but knew enough about it and had learned in his time that drawing a reference to a home world or happy memory helped ease the men.

“Who are we looking for, and why do you need so many of us exactly?” Asked Dupilous Jarr. He was a man of little patience, though he had more than enough time for the Inquisitor. He knew how to do his job and disliked being misused or underused. He was a man of average height, though slightly overweight. Though to tell him that too his face was a mistake, as trooper Gavan found out when he visited the medic to fix his broken jaw. He too wore the red armour of the Reapers, as did Solace. Braater wore only a small amount of armour, but again the deep red. Though he mostly wore grey fatigues, it was far too hot and confined in his battle tank for armour. Svorbal also wore grey fatigues, but with a camo pattern that assisted with the stealth of his sniper role. His armour was patterned in the same scheme, though one shoulder pad was coloured red.

“Right down to business as always Dupilous. Please sit first” he said walking them over to a large oval table at one end of his chambers. The holopict disappeared from the screen and re-appeared as a floating orb at the centre of the table. It was a heavily engraved mohog wood table, very expensive. The, officers took their places, sitting upon plush heavily cushioned chairs, they were never more comfortable than when they were in the Inquisitors chambers, where he held all of his briefings.

The planet pict faded and a new one clicked into view. A fuzzy zoomed in picture of a human figure. He was frail, with a bulbous extended cranium. A psyker.
“This gentleman, is the man we are hunting. He will be known only as Exhibit Beta. A level one psyker and damned dangerous.”
“But he looks so…harmless” commented Braater.
“Looks can be deceiving Colonel” replied Vakarius. “Trust me when I say he is a very dangerous man. Please observe” He a flick of his wrist the picture flashed of the table and was replaced by a grainy video. It was Beta, stood in a ruined church of somekind, the walls looked as if they had been blown out from within. Bodies littered the ground surrounding him, well parts of bodies anyway. The walls were covered in gore. Hovering in front of Beta was a male, in a Guard uniform. The camera zoomed in further, breaking the quality of the picture, but it was obvious what was happening. Very slowly and with an ear piercing shriek of horror, the guardsman was peeled like a ripe fruit. His skin ripping from his wet bloody muscles. Once devoid of all skin, his muscles were then targeted. They seemed to explode is a gory mess, one at a time. All the while the trooper was being kept alive by some sinister force. Before finally his molested corpse was dropped to the floor, where it quivered for a few moments before he died. Hushed curses sounded around the room from the men, Solace wretched and struggled to keep from vomiting, but nobody said a word, even the strongest man would be affected by such a sight.
“That was done by thought alone. No weapons, no armour, just thought.” Explained Vakarius. “He has recruited a large force to fight alongside him, they will be known as Army Omega. At least 1500 strong, with very little in the way of armoured support.” Vakarius once again turned to every man as he spoke. “There is more like him, though not as powerful, spread throughout the ranks. That is the reason I need you. Beta is shielded behind a wall of troops and psykers. A shield that I cannot break alone.”
“Say no more” stated Jarr, as he stood out and held his hand out. Vakarius took the hand and both gripped tightly, a firm shake sealing the deal. “My men will be ready for anything”
“Your commitment is commendable Colonel” said Vakarius. “Do you all feel the same?”. Each commander nodded in turn; finally he turned to Omaris who grinned.
“I told you so” he said bluntly. He then turned to his men. “I’m sure you have many questions, more will be explained in time. But feel free to query anything now”.
“Sir” said Svorbal, standing to ask his question. “How will we be protected from these psykers? Surely we will succumb to the same fate.”
“A Valid question Major. There is the obvious risk of psyker attack, not just from Beta, but also his psyke commanders. To minimise the risk from this, I have recruited Voiders. Loyal psykers who have the ability to block pychic attacks. But they cannot cover everyone at all times. There will be casualties, I cannot lie about that.”
“As there always will be in war” Cut in Omaris. “As the Inquisitor states, the voiders will help to a degree, but our best plan is to strike fast, take out the psykers and then mop up the regular troops.”
“That is where your men come in Major Svorbal” Vakarius said as he turned to the sniper leader. “We want your men to scout ahead, to a degree, and sit up in certain areas where there has been the most psyker activity.” Svorbal nodded as he made mental notes of his task. “As far as we can tell the enemy need to have a line of sight to be able to attack, and have no real shielding to protect them from attack. So your men are to sneak in, and take out the psykers. The other 2 battalions and armour are to then follow up and wipe the traitors out.” He emphasised the last part by clenching a fist as if crushing a man between his meaty fingers.
“Acknowledged” was Svorbal’s reply. “I will ensure the men are fully prepared.”
“Your company will have extra training with Colonel Boliine’s lead scouts. We don’t want to take anymore men than we have too; this is the best option in my opinion.”
“Agreed Sir, my men will relish the dual role and you know how much I like to get one over on Tarvia” he replied with a smirk. Omaris did the same. He knew of the healthy competition between Colonel Tarvie Boliine and Major Jozy Svorbal.
“Now, you may all retire to your barracks. We will resume back to Demu in the morning to break the good news to the men.” In turn each man saluted and exited the chambers. Omaris turned to Vakarius. “I told you they would be up for it Vector.”
“That you did Felix. The Reapers have never let me down. Now how about a drink before we rest?”
“Sounds like a sound plan to me”. Both men laughed heartily and sat down at the oval table. A section opened and a drinks tray and food platter rose through them. They both drank long into the night talking tactics and tales of their adventures. One final night of leisure, before the arduous task ahead.


10-08-2010, 07:27
nice work fella, an enjoyable read to be sure. i think the image of someone being 'peeled like a ripe friut' is going to stay with me for a while!

17-08-2010, 00:35
Two- Part One

'Look into the eyes of a heretic as you destroy him; let him know you are master. But dwell to long and he may corrupt your soul’

Inquisitor Vector Vakarious, Ordo Hereticus

The training was going well, the 6th were given a month of hard, daily training with the Divisions leading scouts to get them ready in time. A few men had struggled from the start, and were replaced early on. Unfortunately Svorbal was one of them. As predicted Svorbal and Boliine had a few falling outs. Svorbal had lost an eye when he was a new recruit to the reapers, an enemy bayonet ripping it from its socket, Svorbal always remembered the ‘pop’ it made as it was pulled out. ‘Much like the cork from a bottle of Chalam’ he was heard to say on more then one occasion. “How the bloody hell are we supposed to teach you anymore Jozy?” Shouted Colonel Boliine at the sniper Major. “You don’t even have depth perception! How can you sneak silently through an abandoned building?”
“Now that’s going to far Colonel” replied Svorbal, “You know damn well I can do this job. You’re just bitter because my men were selected, don’t make this personal”.
Boliine winced at the remark, ‘Svorbal’s right damn it’ he though to himself. It was a hard blow having to teach others a job that his men could already do. Even with all the training, they would never be as good as the 2nd Battalion.
“Fine Jozy, but for frak sake don’t jeopardise your own men’s lives”
“Duly noted” Svorbal replied, trying hard not to grin. ‘One-nil’ he said in his mind. He loved to get one over his rivals, and he had no bigger rival than Colonel Tarvia Boliine. He turned to walk off, head held high when he felt something give under his foot. ‘Splutch’, Svorbal’s hands came up to his face, but too late. The paint mine had exploded and splattered his craggy features with day-glo orange paint.
“I believe that is one all, is it not?” Boliine chuckled to himself; it was now his turn to walk off, laughing aloud as he did so.
Other men looked over and to started to laugh.
“Back to work” He bellowed, embarrassed by the paint. He looked down to see the mine, tucked neatly between two rubble blocks. He went to kick it away, not realising he wasn’t close enough and kicked air. He felt a real fool now and had to breath deep to calm himself down. ‘Maybe Boliine is right’, he was one of the top shots in the Division, but always had time to get into positions to shoot. He had never been in the situation his temporary scout status had led him to. He thought about conceding to Boliine and offering him position of CO for the 6th during the operation. “To hell with that, I’m not letting that arrogant bastard win this one” he muttered to himself. He stared down at the mine again, lining himself up, before swinging his size thirteen boot and hammering the mine case into the distance. “Much better”.


The training was all taking place back on the Reapers’ home planet of Demu. They were born, bred and based there. It was quite a unique planet, which seemed to have every type of weather imaginable, all within very short spaces of time. It came about, because of their lunar orbit. Cycling around 2 stars, this pushed and pulled Demu around like some crude game. Trius was the smaller of the 2 stars and therefore cooler. When Demu was orbiting her, the snow storms and blizzards kicked in, dropping the core temperature to a punishing -15c. But when the huge blue glowing form of Thorn was nearer, the temperature soared to a sweltering 45 degrees centigrade. All this took place twice within the space of one full year, meaning that the Divisions new recruits would have full weather training twice over in the first year. It was both a burden and a huge asset. It played hell on Demu’s crop production, but was a blessing for its armed forces. The planets overall population was almost one billion and it had been questioned before, ‘Why not increase the size of the planets force?’. ‘Quality over quantity’ was the default reply. The Reapers were an elite unit, a small band of expertly trained men. To increase their size would mean less training for each man, and then the effectiveness drops, more men die needlessly, and that wasn’t going to happen. General Omaris had been pressurised quite recently by the powers that be to increase the Reapers’ numbers. He fervently protested and once again the idea was quashed. He had set the recent number cap on 5000, it had been higher during the reign of his predecessors, but back then the Reapers only had a decent reputation, not the exemplary one they had now.

The biggest reduction in number came about during the ill fated Reli IV campaign. When the division found themselves the victim of a well executed pincer manoeuvre by rebel chaos forces. They numbered around 25,000 at the time, by the time support had arrived, 16 days later; they only numbered a mere 6,200, suffering a horrendous 75% casualty rate. The division continued to fight on until the campaigns end almost three months later, and after that the numbers dwindled. Nobody wanted to join the doomed Reapers, and new recruits were hard to find. When Omaris took over, one hundred and eighty seven years after the Reli campaign, they had almost 6,750 men on their books. Omaris proceeded to sort through every squad, filtering out every weak man, until he was left with little over 5,200. He then set a mandatory cap at 5,000 men in total, and swore not to replace anymore men until numbers dropped below that level. He then went about hiring and firing officers and completely re-organising the Division, until he was satisfied, and that is how they are still set today, fifty seven years after Omaris took charge. He knew there were still a few weak links, but they would be replaced when a suitable candidate came into the fray. He was a very ruthless man when it came to the layout of his Division, and due to this, he had moulded a highly trained, highly skilled and highly sought after Division.

26-08-2010, 23:59
Two - Part Two

Two months had passed since the training began. It was hard to try to squeeze into a mere few months all the skills the regular scouts had honed over multiple years and campaigns. Somehow, they had managed to do it. As much as Boliine hated to admit it, he was impressed. So were Omaris and most importantly Vakarius. The men by this time were now making their final preparations, ensuring their equipment was working to its full capacity and that each man had everything they required to function in the field.

They would soon be loading aboard the ‘Lance of divination’, to travel through the ever changing warp to their destination. Swiftly followed by the ‘Broken Axe’, the Reaper’s armour transporting frigate. By Inquisitor Vakarius’ estimation, it would take a further nine weeks journey to reach their destination, Revarden. During the warp travel, the troops would make any final adjustments to their weapons and armour and prepare both physically and mentally for the challenge ahead. They would also meet the Voiders, or V’s as they had been dubbed, that would accompany them into battle and hopefully protect them from psychic attacks. There were sessions planned to help teach the regular soldiers how to stay mentally safe, and avoid succumbing to the voices that would inevitably whisper corrupt promises to them. Omaris had already resigned himself to the fact that he would have to have some of his own men executed for chaos taint. The Voiders were there to keep that number as low as possible.
There would be a total of twenty seven Voiders assigned to them. One per Platoon and the other seven split among the armoured battalion and the officers. The sniper company were the most unfortunate, they had to survive without the assistance of the V’s, due to the fact that they were not soldiers and therefore had no chance of being scout trained even in the slightest, and in the circumstances they would be more of a burden.


The Divination was fully loaded, prepped and ready to go. Green lights flashed and a klaxon sounded. The regular crewmen were running back and forth along corridors and to various monitoring stations. A warning sounded. “TWO MINUTES UNTIL WARP ENTRY”, a hollering automated voice screamed from the vox speakers, one conveniently positioned next to Dolan Solace’s ear.
“Frak” he shouted aloud, as the warning temporarily deafened him. He and the rest of his senior officers, Major’s Fontaine and Dvabel, were securely strapped into their grav chairs awaiting their entry to the warp. He shared a room with the two officers’, the Divination unable to accommodate so many ranking officers in individual rooms. But Solace didn’t mind. He got on well with his second’s in command, he had picked them himself and even schooled with Hulan Fontaine back on Demu. “ONE MINUTE UNTIL WARP ENTRY”
“Throne that things damn loud, Dvabel, switch places.” Solace demanded.
“No can do sir” replied Dvabel with a grin. He was always quite cocky, but Solace put up with it as Dvabel was a damn fine officer. “It would take more than a minute to switch places. And I think you may have heard the last announcement” He sniggered.
“Remind me to have a word with Commissar Lukoz about him would you Hul”. Fontaine merely nodded back. He was the cool calm and overall quiet of the bunch, always seemed in control, but could be damn fierce if the occasion arose.

The final countdown ticked away from thirty until the final seconds. The warning lights now flared a deep red. Solace closed his eyes; he hated the feeling of warp entry.
Solace felt the sudden jump as time split open, and the ship entered what he envisioned as a swirling mass of glowing raw energy. He could fight the urge no longer, as he felt his stomach convulse and bile rise into his throat. It burnt as it rose up his airway into his mouth. He clamped it shut trying to swallow the vile liquid back down. A second sharp jump tugged him back hard into his chair, the harness tightening to keep him secure. Unfortunately the sudden jerk opened his mouth and a quantity of greenish brown vomit exited. Time suddenly stopped dead for a second as their section of the ship passed through the worm hole. Solace blinked, knowing exactly what was going to happen. His vomit floated in mid air in front of him. He could pick out pieces of his last meal. A third and final jump as they reached the innards of the warp and time reset. With that, the sick that had been harmlessly hovering before him came to life and slapped against the front of his number one tunic.


Vakarius stood on the main bridge. His hands gripped firmly on the guard rail surrounding his dais. The klaxons had just finished counting down to the jump into the warp and his grip tightened and the Divination shuddered a trio of times. Through the frontal reinforced viewport he could see their entry. The tear in time blazed a violent purple, then red, and then green before settling on a luminous blue which shifted and flashed as they ship travelled further and further into it. Directly in front, poised to accept the vessel, was a pure black hole, the final gateway to the warp. As the Divination finally hit the black hole, time momentarily stood still. For those few seconds, Vakarius’ gaze was firmly fixed on the strange faceless shapes that seemed to form and then disappear in the blink of an eye. Warp daemons, which seemed to crowd around the ship and test it for weaknesses. To any regular human eye, the shapes would appear to be flashes of lightning slamming against the hull. But to a trained Inquisitor’s eye, they were so much more. Warp spawn, the kind of things that would drive an untrained mind crazy. Luckily for him, Vakarius wasn’t untrained, years of psychological tests and alterations had protected his mind from such dangers. He sneered, his perfect white teeth grinding with anticipation. Though he knew he could never directly harm the creatures that dwelt within the warp, things of pure chaotic power, he knew that he could quell the spread by killing any tainted person he came in contact with. He looked forward to the time he would spending on Revarden, killing in the name of the immortal Emperor and hindering the Chaos advance into the mortal realm.

The black hole subsided, and space seemed to return to normal, but a dull pink glow surrounded them on all sides. Small bright burst of energy crackled across the Gellar field that kept the ship intact.
“System functions returning to normal Sir”, said one of the many crew manning the bridge stations.
“Thank you Gerrandon, as you were.” Vakarius turned away from the viewport, he had seen enough for now. His crew would manage without him for a while, and he decided to retire to his chambers to rest and edit his plans for the upcoming mission.


02-09-2010, 19:11
Just had a catch up on the last two posts fella, stirling stuff as ever! Especially enjoyed the imagining of a warp jump, the transition reminded me very much of 'wing commander' with the freezing time, etc...

Nice stuff all round, looking forward to reading some more in the not so distant future...?

05-09-2010, 23:28
Cheers Pete, glad someones reading and enjoying :) There is more, Im just pacing it so I dont run out too fast!


07-09-2010, 21:20
Awesome man! You have a real talent for stories, they are quite enjoyable and fun to read!

I'll be keeping an eye on this

keep 'em coming

11-09-2010, 10:11
Three - Part One

‘Amour? What armour? We are all the support you are getting, so let’s stop yakking and shoot the frakkers’

Major Jozy Svorbal, 6th Company.

The initial meeting between the Reapers and the V’s didn’t go down too well. In separate attendances, all the troops were introduced to the voiders that would accompany them. It wasn’t what they were that put the Reapers off; it was their look and demeanour. They seemed a very secretive bunch, that didn’t speak and didn’t really show…well anything. Vakarius formally introduced them to the gathered masses in the lecture hall. None seemed to speak or even acknowledge the thousands of troops before them. They were not introduced by name, only as what they were, voiders. The look was the most off-putting feature, wearing thick black tunics complete with a face veil. All that could be seen were their hands and a slit across the face showing their eyes. All, Omaris noticed, had almost pure black eyes, to match with their clothing, and dark skin. They were almost shadows, and would disappear if they walked into a dark corner. He made eye contact with one and felt the sudden urge to shudder. They almost looked; he didn’t want to say it, chaotic.

Vakarius had warned him about the look of the Voiders, but had hoped it would make no difference. “Looks can be deceiving, for good or evil”, said the Inquisitor before the first meeting, and Omaris could see what he meant now. These were the good guys, supposedly, but convincing his troops that fact, and that their lives may soon be under the protection of these people was another matter. Back in the lecture hall, Vakarius was still talking about the various options the Voiders can provide on the battlefield. Not only can they blank incoming psyker attacks, they can lash out as well, and cause immense pain and death among enemy ranks. They were pretty much, the Imperial version of the enemy they were there to protect the Reapers from, and that was another reason they were disliked. Captain Mannyana, one of Colonel Jarr’s officers in the 3rd battalion stood.
“Inquisitor, what’s to stop them turning rogue and attacking us like these traitors have?” It was a valid question and the hall well deathly silent as they awaited the answer.
“I understand your worries Captain” replied Vakarius. “And I can assure you that these men and women have been mind locked to the highest encryption. Meaning they are almost invulnerable to the kind of taint that corrupted the rogues.”
“Almost?” questioned Mannyana. “I don’t mean to step out of line Inquisitor, but ‘almost’ is hardly reassuring to the men”.
Vector Vakarius stood contemplating for a moment and Mannyana wondered if had been too abrupt.
“I can offer you no more than my personal assurance Captain. I apologise if this does not suit you or your men, but it is the best I can do. The Voiders are needed for us to accomplish our mission. I have worked with these Voiders before and I can promise you now, if any of them show the slightest hint of the chaos taint, I will personally end them”. He put real emphasis into the final two words, and the V’s picked up on this, all nodding their agreement. They didn’t seem at all taken back by Vakarius’ comments.
One of the Voiders stepped forward; it was the first real movement any of them had made. It turned to Vakarius and nodded; Vector returned the nod and spoke aloud.
“This is the senior Voider, K’Talla Koru. Please go ahead”
The Voider turned back to the crowd and stood at the edge of the raised area. Slowly and methodically he reached up to his headwear and unbuckled three matt black clasps. He drew back the front part and the rest came away in turn. Revealed below was a smooth, unblemished scalp. No different in anyway to any other in the hall. Not at all what the Reapers were expecting. He looked young, but oozed age and experience and eventually, in a whispery voice, spoke to the group.
“Brothers of the Emperor, please do not fear us.” The soft sound of his voice alone seemed to ease many of the troops. “Believe me when I say, we are as loyal to the golden throne as you and are in debt to both the good Inquisitor and the men of the Demuis Reapers for allowing us to use our skills against the foul taint of the warp.” He held his arms out in a sign of peace, as if to embrace them. “Please do not fear our kind. Yes some of our brethren have fallen, but without wanting to cause insult, so have yours. Countless have fallen to the corruption the ruinous powers present, but not all. We are strong and you are strong. Together we can work together to bring the light of the Emperor to Revarden.”
Silence followed for what seemed like an age, Koru resealed his headgear and stood back in line. Omaris stood and clapped. He looked around and other started to stand and follow suit. Eventually the entire room, with the exception of a handful, were stood clapping. Vakrius turned to Koru and smiled.
“Good work K’Talla” he said. Koru gave a slight bow and received his praise.


17-10-2010, 00:43
Three- Part Two

The next few weeks went without a hitch; the Voiders were introduced to their various squads, Captains and the rest and seemed, mostly, to be gelling well with their new comrades. Not all welcomed them though. After the initial meeting with Vakarius and the V’s, Captain Mannyana kept up his cautious, and at times insulting, attitude towards them. Others is his squads seemed to follow suit and shunt the V’s joining them. There had even been one injury to the Voider’s, when one was found badly beaten by unknown assailants. When asked why he didn’t use his powers to defend himself, he replied “I didn’t want to injure anyone and cause further friction”. That alone was a sign to most that they were indeed friends.

There were a few others cases of injury and sickness. A few troopers were hurt and one dead when a live grenade was used in a practice scenario. Commissar Lukoz sorted that problem with a bolt round to the brain of the trooper in charge. There were a further seventeen cases of illness due to a new game that a soldier from the 5th battalion invented. Corporal Smizzel had recently befriended one of the medics and managed to swipe a mixture of tablets for a game called ‘Placebo’. The game entailed picking one of a dozen tablets at random and swallowing it with a mouthful of homebrew gin. The first trooper to pass out loses. Unfortunately it meant that many of them swallowed pills that were harmful if taken incorrectly. One poor lad, Menser, unknowingly took a pill of pure female hormones and shortly after started growing breasts. Now known as ‘little missy’, Menser attempted to attack Smizzell with his bayonet and ended up spending the rest of the trip in custody.

The biggest problem they had to worry about was Battalion gangs. Unfortunately, even though they were all Reapers, each Battalion fought for supremacy. The 1st were the obvious top dogs, but the others always fought to get one over on their rivals. Which meant it was down to the Commissars to keep them all in line. There had been a few minor skirmishes during their downtime, when gangs raided dorms and naafi’s in search of priority targets. Again there were injuries caused by the clashes, by luckily no deaths.

Vakarius couldn’t understand it himself. Why would people on the same team want to fight? At least it meant they were ready to battle when it came to the real crunch time. He kept close company with General Omaris and Voider Koru, trying to boost the morale and kinship between the two factions. They were all pleased with the progression so far.

* * *

The final three weeks went off without a hitch. The final preparations being made for the imminent arrival in the system around Revarden. Each captain had to choose individuals to pair up with the Voiders. Colonel solace chose the duo of Lemmy and Rudy Kark to accompany Koru with the 1st and Sergeant Griiffe as the lead for the 3rd. The other V’s had been spread evenly over the remaining platoons.

The Voiders, despite their psychic weapons, were given basic training and issued a laspistol as a last resort. Though they were all to be assigned to senior members of each platoon for their further safety. Captain Mannyana had complained about this, stating “they were there to protect the Reapers. Not the other way round”. Riika Mannyana had objected constantly about the Voiders being assigned to his Platoon, every time the complaint was quashed by Colonel Jarr. Little did his CO know that Mannyana had a fear for all things psyker related. His father was a Reaper many years ago and was killed by another rogue psyker, Riika had been there and seen it in person. He had resented their powers ever since. Though he looked forward to the chance to destroy them, he feared working with them, after what had happened he just could not trust any. He therefore assigned his platoons lead Voider to a trooper called ‘Sarc’. Yeri Jup was known as ‘Sarc’, due to his downright awful attitude he displayed towards anyone. Constantly back chatting, Mannyana had seen himself Sarc shot in the leg by a rebel warrior, to which he replied “Is that it? Well you have done a **** poor job”, quickly followed to a second shot that blew the leg off from the knee down. He hoped that Sarc would annoy their Voider so much, that he would refuse to work with them. His superior, Major Yuumi, knew what he was trying to do, and had adamantly told him that would not happen.

All the other officers accepted their new additions, and pretty much all the troopers did as well. They mixed well, opening up to their new found brothers in arms (or heads for the V’s), and started joining in with the Platoon/Company/Battalion banter. It was soon evident to Vakarius that he had made the right choice relying on the Reapers once more, and they had not even seen the battlefield yet.

* * *

The final meeting of ranking officers was underway. They were now just a mere three days away from warp exit, and four from touching down. General Omaris was explaining the plan to them. All the Colonels and Majors from the Battalions were present. Solace, Fontaine and Dvabel from the 1st. Jarr, Yuumi and Kenierarson from the 2nd. Braater, Schneider, Guthrie and Moss-Dyer from the armoured and finally Major Svorbal and his senior Captain Bliton Tyroe from the Sniper Company.

All listened intently as it was explained that upon arrival into the system, Svorbal and his snipers would be immediately deployed to strategic positions, via Vakrius’ own customised drop pods, in the hope that the forces on planet would either be too concerned with the appearance of the Divination to notice such small vessels. Or the hope that they just wouldn’t notice at all. It was already known that Revarden had poor planetary comms, and very few systems that would detect any ship. But what was not fully known was the chance of the rogue psyker detecting a change in the atmospheric conditions.

Svorbal accepted the fact that his was the most dangerous mission of all. They would be dropped, with minimal equipment and all alone for almost a full twenty four hours, with no chance of reinforcement. They also had no protection from the psykers themselves. If they were spotted, found or captured, they were on there own and more than likely dead. He was told to expect, if discovered, at least 33% losses and a good portion of that within the first twenty four hours.

The 1st and 3rd would then follow en mass a day later, with the view to draw in the rebel forces. Hopefully leaving the psykers exposed for Svorbal to attack. But no plan survives first contact. It was take a further day, maybe two, to deploy the armoured might of the 5th. This was not taken well by any of the officers, as it was not known if the enemy had armour. If they did, the infantry would fare poorly against them alone.
They believed ‘Beta’ to be within the confines of a city, Garosh, a medium sized and densely populated city pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Surrounding the city itself was open and desolate land, destroyed by the dry weather conditions Revarden provided. Army Omega was expected to be based within Garosh, with sparse contingents elsewhere on the planet. Recent intel had based Beta and his lead psykers there aswell, presumably preparing for the invasion of their next target planet. The Reapers were there to stop that once and for all. The planetary defence force had all but been wiped out by Beta, as they had no defence against such attacks. Many however had decided to join him in his quest, turning their backs on the Golden Throne and becoming Army Omega. Bringing death to such a dangerous figure and punishment to traitors was an opportunity the Reapers would grab with both hands.

Once Svorbal’s company was in place and given time to settle, the main bulk would be spread around the limits of the Garosh, and would then slowly creep inwards, wiping out any force they came in contact with. Until finally location Beta and destroying him. The more Omaris thought about it, the more foolish he believed Beta to be. First of all he turned traitor. Secondly he chose to invade a planet that would not defend him well against such an attack as the Reapers were carrying out. All of the cities were spread sparsely, and surrounded by arid land. Meaning that any reinforcements in any other cities were days away at the least, leaving him extremely vulnerable. And the way the attack was planned, they would be completely surrounded with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

A few hours later, all were fully briefed on the next phase. Questions had been asked and answered, and the officers were being dismissed to return and brief their own teams. The Colonel’s were given freedom to make the final preparations as they see fit, but to ensure that every man gets some free time before they exit the warp. The troops were to be advised however, that any rule breaking, or games of ‘placebo’ would result in execution via the Divisions Commissars. Within ninety six hours, the true test would begin.