[The Escapade] Chapter I (40k, englantia)

[CRv69]

Nyt sitten tarinan ensimmäinen kappale, toivottavasti nautitte. Pituutta ja henkilökuvausta enemmän kuin prologissa. (Sehän oli prologi, perkele. Ei siinä kuulukaan välttämättä olla mitään suurempia kuvauksia saati sitten miljoonaa riviä tekstiä =] ) Sisältää jonkin verran kiroilua, elkää lukeko jos olette kukkahattutätejä.




The Imperial cruiser “Sacred Terra” travelled through the horrors of the Empyrean. Had there been any others to observe it but bloodthirsty daemons, they would have easily deduced that this ship had been through a lot. The outer hull was scarred with marks of glancing hits from lance weaponry and small crater-like spots where light torpedoes had hit. Only one person on the whole cruiser was aware of the presence of the monstrous things that stalked them every time they flew inside the strange dimension called the Warp, and he would never be able to tell others what he had witnessed.

It was quiet in the medical facilities of the cruiser, only the faint humming of the ships engines and the occasional beeping of the medical devices breaking the silence. On one of the hundreds of identical beds lay the still figure of the Imperial guardsman named Senar. Beside the bed there was another man, sitting on a small chair and reading a book of heroic tales and great adventures.

Senar awoke, to be greeted by the still blurry sight of the white ceiling and a desolate little lamp. He lay still for a while, trying to arrange his thoughts, but failing miserably. He then proceeded to try and turn his head to see exactly where he was. The young man by the bedside gave off a little yelp of surprise on his motion, quickly followed by an embarrased grin.
“Oh, you’re awake.” he said. “I was just surprised, that’s all. You’ve been asleep for quite a while.”
Senar focused on the face of the man, and realised that this was the same boy, whom he had helped fix the bayonet before the charge. The charge! The memories came flooding into his head, the smell of burnt flesh and the panic of their sudden withdrawal.
“What happened?” he asked the boy, whose name he still couldn’t recall. He made a mental note to ask the sarge, since it was starting to look like they might spend some time together.
“Well, we were retreating, ‘cause of the artillery bombardment. We jumped into our trenches but you got hit by a shrapnel from the first explosion. The doc said you’re one lucky bastard”, at this the young man looked embarrased again, “to still be able to walk after that one. Got you right in the back and almost splintered your spine.”
“Yeah, ain’t I the lucky one. Just my luck to survive a charge into a heavily fortified enemy position, and survive retreating back to our lines with almost no covering fire to get hit by some bloody piece of crap.” answered Senar with a dry tone. “What happened to the others?”
“Just four of us survived through that, actually. Me and the sarge got away with nothing but scratches, he actually told me to go check on you and I thought I’d take a book and just sit here for a while. Then there’s you and Ulter, although he isn’t really in a fighting fit, what with them doctors having to amputate his left arm and leg. He was still in the enemy trench when those shells hit, and boy did he look bad when they brought him in.”
Senar spent a while to reflect on this. Just four of his squadmates survived, and the dead ones included some who he had learnt to consider friends. He felt tears building up inside him, but pushed them away, determined not to cry in front of this fellow. There’d be plenty of time for that later. Senar studied the youth a bit better. There was no way he was older than 20, and probably not even that. He was also slender, but not in the way Senar was. This kid looked like he couldn’t carry a plasma gun if his life depended on it. The plasma gun was Senar’s weapon now, and he smiled a little at the thought of naming his gun since it hadn’t even blown up in his hands.
“Are you hungry?” the boy asked after a short awkward moment of silence.
“Umm, yeah, I quess so.” Senar replied, more to get the soldier away than of any real need for food.
“I’ll fetch you something, allright?”
“Yeah, thanks.”

When the boy returned, Senar had already gained his composure. He ate in silence and with little appetite, especially since the food on the cruiser wasn’t exactly gourmet. After he had chewed the last piece of the synthetic crap that was supposed to be meat, he turned to his companion.
“So, where are we going now?
“We haven’t really been told much yet, or at least I haven’t. I know we’re going to a planet called Idira III, and I’ve heard rumours it would be a jungle planet but that’s the wealth of my knowledge.”
“Well it’s good to see my luck is holding, jungle has got to be the crappiest terrain to fight in. Any word on what we’re facing?”
“Apparently some kind of rebels or something like that, nothing fancy.”
“OK. Umm, by the way I don’t remember you name right now, must’ve been the blow...”
“I’m Daniel Fardon, but you can call me Dan.”
“Well, Dan, I’d like to be alone for a while if that’s allright.”
“Yeah, of course it is. I’ll go tell the sarge you’re up.”

Senar spent the next couple of hours in quiet introspection. Once in a while a nurse came to check on one patient or the other, but not much else was happening. He wondered whether he had been lucky to get a place in one of these so-called “silent rooms”, or was it just that there weren’t too many injured soldiers on board. He thought the first option the more probable one by his experience of several small campaigns such as the previous one, but the second was also possible if they had arranged separate transport for the severely wounded, or a “Moving morgue” as those transport craft were known in the soldiers’ talk.

He woke from a light slumber to see his sergeant Draverko (or Drake as he was known) standing beside the bed. He hastily made an attempt to salute, though he got the feeling it didn’t go exactly as intended.
“At ease.” rumbled Drake with the deep voice Senar had come to recognise.
“Hi sarge. Any news on where are we going and are we going to get some reinforcements.?”
“No, not really. Our squad will be filled with some lads from D-company who lost their sergeant in the battle. And we are still an assault squad so you’ll get to keep your new toy.”
“Roger that. I thought of naming her you know.”
“Just don’t name “her” after me. When do you think you’ll be up?”
“Should be fine tomorrow, sarge.” Senar had asked a nurse about this a while ago.
“Good, we’re at section B3 of the barracks, meet us there at 1300 and we’ll go train a bit.”
This was a thing that all who served under Drake found out the hard way. The man was a training maniac. A perfectionist himself, he always made a point of demanding his men to be as good as he was in everything. This was of course impossible, seeing that Drake was in perfect shape and superiorily accurate with the lasgun to boot. But he damn well made sure they tried and tried until they were sore in every way possible. This made his squads some of the finest in the Bray 11th, and had earnt him the place of leading the assault squad if they had to attack. Senar chuckled slightly as he thought of the new guys finding out what Drake meant by “a bit” of training.

The next morning Senar took his leave from the medical section and made his way to the armoury to fetch his stuff. As he walked through the sprawling corridors he suddenly found himself thinking of home. The blue walls of the room he had shared with two of his brothers. The smell of the kitchen where his mother had cooked three meals a day for all her ten children. The blooming Hiána trees in the summer, and the smell that ripe Hiána fruit let out when they were crushed and their liquid drawn, to be made into a wonderfully tasty drink called Javall. And the face of his teenage love, Fyrella, a bit blurry already. He snapped out of his reverie and tried to focus on anything else before he could remember the reason he had left, but it was too late. The memories of the war came flooding in. He had been called to service along with five of his brothers, and in the end he had been the only one to return home, only to find their home village sacked and burned...

Suddenly someone called his name behind him, making him jump. He turned around quickly and saw Dan, the boy wonder, standing behind him and smiling widely.
“Hi. It’s good to see you up.” he said.
“Hi, I was just headed to the armoury to get my stuff.”
“I’m going there, too! I’ll join you.”
Senar grudgingly admit to himself that he was grateful for the company of the youth, though he considered Dan a pain in the ass. At least he wouldn’t take another unpleasant trip down Memory Lane with constant babbling in his ears.

The armoury was totally crowded, and it took Senar twenty minutes just to get to ask someone where to find his stuff. He had (not so unintentionally) lost Dan already, so he wandered into the endless rows of stuff alone. After some ten minutes on fruitless searching he finally found a package with his name on it, and found pretty much all of his stuff inside. His plasma gun (who he now decided to call “Fyrella”) was there also, with just a few new scratches on the casing. Just as Senar was starting to make his way out, he heard something that made him stop. On the other side of the shelf there was someone talking, and the voice belonged to their commanding officer, Colonel Reginald.
“I think I know what you mean.”
“I believe you do, colonel.” Hearing this voice, Senar got even more shocked. He had only heard it once, but he recognised the crispy, dry tone and the mocking afterthought that emanated from every word. This voice belonged to a Commissar Freihoff, who had been travelling with the Bray 11th for some time now.
“I just hope it won’t come to that.” Senar could distinguish fear in the colonel’s voice, which surprised him. The man might not be the greatest commander ever but fear was not a trait that fit an old wardog like him.
“Me too, but if it does you will have to make sure that they are all there and that they won’t resist.”
“I will, commissar.”
At this point Senar could hear the sound of one of the men leaving, and started walking the other way. He knew that he’d just heard something he wasn’t supposed to hear, and commissars weren’t known for being sympathetic men.

The rest of the trip went by in a flurry of training, exercising his muscles back to shape and lying in bed, thinking of what he had heard that day. He didn’t know what it meant, but he felt the kind of foreboding that had never meant anything good. Still, Senar thought it best to keep it to himself for the time being. There was no knowing how fast it might spread in a ship full of bored soldiers, and he still didn’t like the idea of being caught for eavesdropping the two most important men on the ship. So he tried to assure himself there was nothing to worry about, that the thing the colonel was so scared of wouldn’t come to pass and that even if it did, it wouldn’t concern a simple grunt like him. They weren’t great assurances but they were convincing enough to let him sleep at night.

“The Emperor protects.”
“His light guides the pure and the sacred.”
“Greetings, my lord.”
“What news, commissar?”
“I have taken care of it, my lord.”
“Excellent. Bring them here. By the end of the day they shall feast at the Emperor’s table.”
“So it is certain?”
“Yes. They are here.”
“Very well, my lord. I live to serve.”
“Good work, commissar. You shall be well rewarded for your services to the Imperium.”

[CRv69]

Hei, kertokaa nyt edes joku jos olette lukeneet tekstin että tiedän lähetänkö enää lisää On se niin väärin kun kaikkien muiden tarinoita jaksetaan kommentoida. Pitäisi varmaan siirtyä kirjoittamaan suomeksi fabasta ja mieluusti vielä kauniista tytöistä niin heruisi kommenttiakin ehkä

[Dimensus]

Arvostelen kun kiireiltäni kerkeän. Laitan sitten kommenttia lisää tämän samaisen viestin loppuun. Ja laita jatkossakin tekstejäsi tänne, mutta muista että enkunkieliset eivät niitä suurtakaan suosiota, niitä lukevat kovin harvat näinä päivinä. Tarinat ja novellit osio on kuoleman kielissä, nyt kun kynä ääliöt ovat lomalla.

[Relic]

Hyvää tekstiä ja tarinankerrontaa puhumattakaan kieliopista!!! Lisää samanlaista .

10 points