Heroic space marine story (and then some!)

[hullukoira]

Since many readers have not appreciated my unusual scrivenings, I have decided to write something usual. As usual, in fact, as can be written! Thusly, to make the story as common as possible, I have decided to take a look at a heroic space marine killing nasty aliens and chaos scumm, with two mms, all the while remembering to churn out as many weapon specs as humanely possible. All this should satisfy even the most prudish amongs you. But now to the story!




The heroic adventures of Ahnold, the heroic space marine.

Against all odds, and so forth.



Ahnold, the heroic space marine, crouched behind a gigantic oil barrel.

When I say crouched, I do not mean he hid or anything. For as a rule, space marines do not hide. Nor do they run away. Ever. For they are the most valorous and brave, and also the most heterosexual, of warriors. Ahnold crouched, because he was out of ammo.

Ahnold lifted his bolter and ejected the empty clip. The bolter was mars pattern, a highly powerful and massive firearm much favored by the inhumanly strong warriors, the space marines. The weapon's chromed bulk glinted in the artificial light. The golden eagle, a symbol of the mighty Imperium upon the bolter's side gleamed like liquid fire. But back to the specs, man!

As I said, the bolter was highly powerful. It had the prodigous ability to fire highly powerful ammunition towards enemy targets at the amazing speed of a thousand rounds per minute. That is almost seventeen rounds per second, fact fans! The downside of this was that if you shot the said enemy full auto, you were out of ammo in, um, one point two seconds, what with the usual bolter clip taking in only twenty boltgun shells. Which explains why Ahnold was out of ammo. Again.

Ahnold looked for a clip and cussed. There were none left. No, wait! There were few extra clips secreted into his backpack. But crivens! As much as he tried, he could not reach there. And to make matters worse, the backpack was securely, and tightly, attached to the backside of his power armour.

No, not to THE backside, obviously. To the back part of his power armour. And no, I did not see anything funny in it either. I just wanted to make things clear. For in this story, backsides are not mentioned in any way at all. Well, probably not...

But anyway. No reachey, no clippey. Yet, Ahnold was not stymied. He rose, his mighty leg muscles verily bulging inside his black armour, and started banging his powerplant containing backpack against the empty oil barrel. It sure did make a helluva racket. Still, Ahnold could feel the miniature powerplant loosening, so he kept at it. Bong, bong bong.

Suddenly, Ahnold froze. For there, in front of him, a band of orks had appeared. And they were laughing at his antics. The cheek! A deep growl rose from Ahnold's expansive chest. In his steely blue eyes, a look of steeliness appeared. He flexed his mighty muscles and bared his white teeth. They glinted (the teeth, that is) in the setting sun.

The orks sobered. For Ahnold had not equipped his arm plates in this campaign, so the orks had a full wiew of his manly muscled arms. And what arms they were! Bulging with muscle as strong as the strongest steel! The radius of his bicep was full half metre! I kid you not! Imagine a football inside your arm and you're getting there. In fact, the reason Ahnold had not equipped his arm plates was because they were too tight for his enormous musculature!

Suddenly the orks ripped off their raggy shirts and posed back! Ahnold's eyes went wide! For the orks were enormous! Fully head taller that a regular marine, the beasts had the strenght of a tank! Their muscles were staggeringly enormous! Their biceps were the size of a bike wheels! Seriously! Their stomach muscles could have been used as bulletproof vests, they were so solid! And when they turned to show their back muscles, man, the orks looked like a flight of thunderbolts! Their back muscles were so wide, see! Like wings!

Ahnold squared his shoulders inside his shoulderpads. The autoreactive pads hummed and whirred in response. It gave Ahnold a very naughty feeling, if you know what I mean. All that power, coursing through his armour. I do not know about you, but just thinking about it makes my mouth water, like! In a strictrly heterosexual way, mind, so don't get any funny ideas! But I digress.

So, Ahnold flexed his shoulders, pulled out two enormous fighting knives, and crouched at the ready. The knives were made of darkened steel, with handles wrapped in genuine rhinox skin. The blade part was at least thirty centimetres long and sharp enough to cut through a plastisteel. Or so they say.

Ahnold pushed the knives out in aguila style, his fists together, and the naked blades to the sides, like wings. It looked really cool as the morning sun hit the carefully puffed edges. Unpractical as heck, yes, but cool. The orks could verily see he meant business.

At this point I would like to point out that Ahnold did not wear his helmet either. He was absent of helm, not because his head was too big (well haa haa), but because he was such a handsome man that wearing a helm would have been an offence. Seriously! He looked like John Travolta had looked in his heydays! Only more muscular, well, obviously, dude. But here I digress again. Now where were we? Oh yes!

The three orks let out an allmighty warcry and leaped forward. In their arms they held crude ork weapons, gargantuan axes and choppas. Ahnold came to, and, ducking the first axe, cut the head off the first ork in the backswing. In the same graceful, but totally heterosexual, movement, he brought his steeltipped boot up and kicked the second ork's nasal bone into it's brain, killing it instantly.

Suddenly, a jarring blow hit Ahnold's right shoulder pad, shattering the autoreactive armour. The third ork had landed a hit! Ahnold's right hand went numb (That always happens, a hand going numb, does it not?). Ahnold's knife clattered to the steely floor of the tunnel. Warily, he took a step back and looked at his remaining adversary.

The ork in front of Ahnold was no regular ork. The beast was astonishingly enormous! Staggeringly stupendous! It's gargantually muscular body was encased in a crude but effective armour plates. In it's left arm, there was a crudely crafted multiweapon the size of a marine bike. In the right, a staggeringly huge power saw. Alas, the saw seemed to have broken when the ork had landed the hit, and now mewed quite sadly to a halt.

The big ork looked at the marine, and the knife he was holding. Reaching a decision, it dropped both the gun and the saw, and pulled out a knife of it's own. Well, I say knife. It was more like a sword, it was so huge! 'Let's dance' the beast grunted in it's guttural tonque.

'Eh, dance?' quizzed Ahnold, perplexed. 'What, like now? You're not one of those are you? Cause, dude, I'm like totally heterosexual!'

Seeing the man's puzzlement, the ork attacked, furiously. But it's blade met only air! For Ahnold had only been bluffing! Shouting a prayer to his emperor, Ahnold took aim, and threw his knife with all his might. The blade flew, straight and true, across the cavern, embedding itself in the eye of the ork boss. The ork fell on the steel floor, his armour making a racket. Ahnold punched air, victorious. Onlookers cheered, and pressd in for autographs.

Suddenly, a shout! Somebody was crying for help! Dropping a pencil, Ahnold looked frantically around. There! In the shadows of a manufactorum, there was a boy. And towering over him, a grotesquely huge lictor!!!

Ahnold, the heroic space marine, acted instinctively. He riased his mighty bolter and let fly a hail of bullets. The powerfull projectiles hit home, but alas! the carapace of the bio monstrosity was too tough even for such a mighty weapon. The ammunition only scratched the lictors bio armour. Nevertheless, the annoyed monstrosity turned towards Ahnold, leaving the child be.

Ahnold threw his bolter aside, disgusted. Something stronger was sorely needed. But what? Aha! A melta bomb! Ahnold gripped the large, spherical canister by the handle, and twisted. The timer inside started to tick. Ahnold now had ten seconds to throw the explosive.

Taking careful aim, Ahnold pulled his meaty arm back, and hurled the melta bomb with all his strenght towards the lictor. Instinctively, the gargantuan beast tracked the green canister, and snapped it out of air, swallowing it as if it were a tidbit. Then it exploded!

The explosion was tremendous! Ahnold was thrown back clean ten metres by the shock wave! Seriously! Every single window in the locale was shattered! Highly acidic lictor viscera was splashed simply everywhere! Man, I do not envy the dude who had to clean it all up!

Ears ringing, Ahnold stood, and dusted himself off. Then he hastened to see wether the kid ws still alive. Miraculously, the boy had survived the ordeal without a scratch.

'Thank you, sil space maline!' the little boy shouted, hugging Ahnolds leg armour. 'You ale tluly my helo!'

'Think nothing of it!' grinned Ahnold, waving and smiling to a few passing girls. They seemed mightily impressed, and giggled in a silly, infatuated way. 'It's all in a day's work!'

'Oh, but sil, I just lemembeled,' the boy suddenly cried, alarmed. 'You have to come help my momma! She's in tlouble!'

'Tlouble??? Where's that then???' enquired Ahnold, but the kid just grunted and pulled him by hand out the door. Shrugging, the heroic space marine followed.

In the yard, sun was shining and all seemed well. But the boy did not tarry. He pulled Ahnold through nearby thicket, and into a little clearing in the woods. And there was his mother (the kid's mother, not Ahnold's). Harassed by a space marine!

But wait! It was no ordinary space marine that was abusing the young woman with witless banter and illicious advances. It was a chaos space marine. The towering, gaunt man had on a twisted parody of a space marine's power armour, twisted, no doubt, by the twisting powers of the warp and chaos. His skin was gray and sickly. His eyes, red slashes. His mottled hair had been dyed violently pink.

'Hearken!' cried Ahnold in old gothic as he stepped torwards this new threat. For Ahnold knew chaos marines oft spake in archaic manner. 'Desist thine bother upon yonder lass!'

The chaos space marine turned, surprise and puzzlement showing upon his grotesque features and spake thusly: 'Eh? You what?'

'Desist thine bother upon yonder lass..?' hazarded Ahnold again. Old gothic was not one of his strong points.

'And if I do not desist?' the chaos scumm sneered, sneering evilly.

'Then thou shalt have troubles!' rumbled Ahnold, flexing his mighty biceps to best effect. The onlookers whistled. A young man with strange leanings amongst the crowd even swooned at the manly sight.

'Me having troubles?' the chaos marine snorted. 'I'm not the one talking like Goop the wonder servitor!' And the chaos scumm laughed heartily at his own wit. Even some of the improptu audiende tittered at this.

Ahnold reddened. He well knew Goop, the wonder servitor. The man-machina had been a star of a fifties holocomedy. Low on wit, and cursed with an ancient cogitartor unit that forced him to talk like an archaid manservant, the servitor had stumbled from one trouble to another, to high amusement of his eager audiences. It really wasn't seemly for a space marine hero to be besmirched with such comparisons.

Ahnold squared his shoulders and took a battle stance. The chaos scumm looked in to his eyes and knew he meant business. He left the woman he had been harassing with disturbingly unseemly suggestions and charged, his meaning to surprise Ahnold with his unhumane speed.

But Ahnold was even faster. He ducked out the way, and whirled, landing a mighty roundhouse kick to the buttocks of the chaos marine. The chaos scumm was thrown clean ten metres into a mighty oak. The ancient tree fell with the shattering impact. Near the place, a passing troupe of ratlings sniggered and jeered. Some of them pulled out their rifles, so as to take potshots at the chaos scumm, but Ahnold waved them aside. He did not need such unknightly help. And anyways, the chaos scumm was down already! Or was he..?

Alas, the chaos warrior was made of sterner stuff that the oak. With a sneer, the twisted marine rose and spat a goblet of dark blood to the ground. Pulling a pistol, he let loose a shower of bolts towards Ahnold.

With inhuman speed and agility the heroic marine danced aside, in a purely heterosexual manner, dodging bullets so fast that eyes could not follow him. The ratlings were all agog. This dude was amazing. But then, a disaster! Ahnold's boot was gaught in a root, and he fell, heavily, upon his back. And what was even worse, the impact of his fall detached his powerplant cum backpack. Trouble!

Ahnold could feel the power inside his autoreactive carapace armour weakening. He glanced at the chaos marine. The beast of a man had pulled a mighty axe form a passing wood cutter, and was now advancing warily. Ahnold grasped for a weapon, but there was none to be had. Suddenly he noticed his backpack, from whence a low keening echoed. An idea struck him.

Twisting up, Ahnold took hold of the loose powerpack and with all his considerable might, hurled it towards the chaos marine. Contemptously, the chaos creature swung his axe, cutting the backpack in twain. Grinning, Ahnold hit the floor and covered his handsome ears.

With a tremendous, stool loosening BOOM, the ruptured subatomic power source inside the thrown backpack exploded! A mushroom shaped cloud rose, towering over the forest! The air was full of flame and cinder! A shockwave hit the trees along the clearing, tearing them loose and throwing them around like so much toothpicks! It was all very impressive! Even Ahnold, down as he was, was thrown clear fifty metres into the woods! Damn!

In the clearing, all was suddenly silent. Of the chaos marine, there was no sign. Only a crater was left of him and the destroyed power plant.

Cheering and jubilating, the onlookers rushed to Ahnold. They carried him to their village and made him sit at a golden throne they had made for the occasion. Various gifts they then carried to Ahnold, such as bowls of fruit and garlands of wild flowers. Unto his hands, small coinage was pressed in simple thanksgiving. And the womenfolk of the village, did also bring babes to the hero, and he did lay his hands upon their heads and thus blessed them. And the girls of the village, not yet having children of their own, did dance to the great male marine, vying for his attentions. Their sensous movements did contrast strakly to their lithe, childish bodies. Ahnold, the mighty hero, took a pillow and placed it upon his scrotum.

At the feast, there was also an old man whom kept shouting 'hurrah, hurrah, the great hero' all evening. He was sorely ashamed by this the next day, and did not show his face in the village for a whole week. Finally, he was forced to come out of his hut as he run out of clean water. And then the other villagers did jeer at him, crying, 'hurrah, hurrah', whenever he did pass them, and then laughing uproariously, making the old man in question blush mightily.

But all this was lost to Ahnold, who had, by then, returned to his mothership, where his mother lived.

The end

[hullukoira]

Tää tarina sai muuten erittäin hyvän vastaanoton black libraryn sivulla! olin aika yllättynyt, sillä ajattelin siellä olevan liian vakavamielisiä mariinirakastajia... Onneksi olin väärässä!!!

[abcdefg]

Tarinasi on ihan hyvä. Itse en kyllä pystyisi moiseen!
Näitä saisi tulla enemmänkin.

[Drakken]

Hehheh, hupaisaa luettavaa =D

Teksti oli sujuvaa, vaikkakin siinä oli hieman toistoa. Kyllä tämöistä kelpaa lukea

[Leihu]

Nämä jutut ovat mukavaa vaihtelua synkkiin tarinoihin. Mukavaa luettavaa, lisää odotan innolla!

[hullukoira]

Nämä jutut ovat mukavaa vaihtelua synkkiin tarinoihin. Mukavaa luettavaa, lisää odotan innolla!

Ikävä kyllä, lisää Ahnoldia ei ole tulossa.

Luin näet läpi edelliset osat tätä saagaa, ja tajusin että ne on aikamoista soopaa. okei, tämä eka osa oli ihan hauska, mutta kolmas oli jo tuubaa. Eli näyttäisi siltä että Ahnold-idea on pumpattu jo tyhjäksi. Parasta lopettaa kun ollaan vielä voiton puolella, eh?

[vompovompatti]

Viihdyttävähän tämä oli. Kiitos ja kumarrus.

[hullukoira]

Tällä hetkellä työn alla on DragoonLance Saga, jossa epämäräinen white trash- joukkio kamppailee ilkeää impeliaalista overlordia ja hänen imperial dragoon -ratsuväkeään vastaan. kaikki yhteneväisyydet erääseen dragonlance trilogiaan tulevat olemaan täysin sattumanvaraisia ja tahattomia.

[IRiaD]

Tällä hetkellä työn alla on DragoonLance Saga, jossa epämäräinen white trash- joukkio kamppailee ilkeää impeliaalista overlordia ja hänen imperial dragoon -ratsuväkeään vastaan. kaikki yhteneväisyydet erääseen dragonlance trilogiaan tulevat olemaan täysin sattumanvaraisia ja tahattomia.

Äläpäs sitten vain unohda Tasia tai... tai... se ei ole Dragonlance-rip-offausta. No, ainakaan kunnollista