To Do: Post a 40K Short Story

Random inspiration. Always fun, right? Here I am painting an Obliterator, when the spark of inspiration sent my brain matter all aflutter. I tried to focus on my painting, but hell, the ink needed to dry, and watching youtube videos just seemed like a waste of time.

So, without further adieu, here is my very very (very) short story, For the Emperor.


“His eyes never leave us, brothers. His gaze is ever fixed on his children, watching their deeds and testing their loyalty,” Chaplain Sardomenas said to the congregation of marines surrounding him. Their heads were bowed in heartfelt reverence, each thinking of the coming battle.  “It is in His name that we come to this world to conquer its peoples. Though simple folk led by an imbecile of a governor, their ignorance does not excuse them from impeding His ultimate goal. We will cleanse this world with bolter, sword, and fire. And when our task is done, when every citizen lay cleansed, every rifle silenced, and the idiot governor hung from the tallest tower. When every voice is silenced on Soruu IV, we shall give praise to the Emperor.”

“For the Emperor!” cried the gathering of giants. As one their armored fists began beating the air above them, shouting ever louder their praise to the Immortal God-Emperor. They were all prepared to sell their lives to further his goal, Sardomenas knew, and he was proud to lead them in prayer. Not once had they failed their Emperor on the field of battle. Not once had an enemy escaped their weapons. With every mission, His plans were one step closer to coming to pass.

“Brother Captain Jedah now comes to go over the coming war. Brother Jedah.”

From out of the shadows came a brooding marine of huge stature, undetectable throughout the sermon. His armor, baroque, yet well-tended, barely encased his muscular form. Yet with all his power, his movements were utterly quiet and graceful, as if each step was that of a ghost, not a man. On his left wrist lay an ancient bolter, his left hand rest on a sheathed sword of incredible power. He was a powerful warrior indeed, and his deeds in the name of the Emperor commanded the respect of all his fellows without question. After looking over his gathered warriors, he began to speak.

“Below us lay Soruu IV, a world that spits upon the Emperor’s work. A manufacturing world, toiling night and day to craft tanks for the enemy. Their citizens are unaware of the hurt they cause, having been kept purposefully uneducated in the world around them. At behest of Governor Doln, the factories build every minute of every day. We will no longer stand by while this loathsome creature continues to foul the Emperor’s grand plan.”

“Our sources have successfully infiltrated the working class below, learning from them that this constant strain has the workers on edge, even the most “devout” of the governor’s men. With skill, our brothers have not only gained schematics of each factory from the working class, but also the governor’s mansion itself. Every hallway and defense emplacement is revealed to us.”

“Emperor be praised!” answered the congregation.

“With this information, he have planned a three-stage offensive against the planetary forces. Our agents on the ground will inspire a rebellion in the populace, robbing the governor of his working masses and stopping all production of munitions. When the governor hears of this, he will send his personal guard into quell the uprising. At this point we will send the main attack force into their midst. We know the enemy forces will gather at Manufactorum 187, by far the largest factory where the “rebellion” will make their base of operations. When 187 is surrounded, we will surround the enemy.”

“As this is taking place, myself and Squad Gamma will teleport directly into the governor’s mansion, specifically in the generator room. The provided schematics give us precise knowledge of the room’s size and location. Already a teleport beacon has been hidden amongst the machinations that power the building. We will cut the power to the complex, shutting down all defensive measures, and make our way to the governor’s state room, where we know he will be. We have already ensured all escape craft will be unable to take off. He will see the avatars of his death within a day.”

“The Emperor’s wrath is unstoppable,” answered the gathering.

As soon as the last syllable left Jedah’s vox-grill, Chaplain Sardomenas walked to his side. He gestured to the warriors before him, and all, including Jedah himself, bowed their heads once again in prayer. With their oaths of the moment said allowed, Sardomenas said to them, “The Emperor Protects.”

“The Emperor Protects!” was their reply.

“Go forth brothers,” said Sardomenas in a low, assured voice. “Don your helmets, ready your weapons, and prepare to do the Emperor’s real work.” With that, the gathered Astartes began locking their helmets in pace; some had terrible horns sprouting from the side, others terrible visages meant to strike fear in their enemies. Their armor matched their masks, as every shoulder, gauntlet, and leg was emblazoned with the markings of Chaos.

Sardomenas saluted his Brother Captain. “The men are ready, my lord “Alpharius”, he announced.

“To battle!” roared Alpharius, unsheathing his sword, twisted and writhing with power. “The Emperor’s work be done!”

On the surface of the Imperial world Soruu IV, men and women were living their lives as they always had. They worshipped the God-Emperor in all ways, and built tanks to further his war efforts against the enemies of mankind. Before this day was done, they would be cowering in fear, if they survived the first few hours.

Soon, the voices of their fellow workers would rise up against the Emperor, proclaiming their allegiance to Chaos. The planet’s defense forces would shatter against the Alpha Legion’s perfect assault. The governor, a man devoted to his Emperor, would look upon the world with dead eyes, his entrails tumbling from his opened belly, as he swung from the mansion in which he lived. Those who served the legion well would be saved, of course, but only those who served and had purpose.

Within one day, the Alpha Legion would scour this planet. Not a single voice would cry in pain at the end. Alpharius’ sons would cleanse it in the name of the Emperor, for they alone know the truth; for the Emperor’s dream of destroying Chaos to succeed, he must himself be destroyed. The Alpha Legion would succeed, they knew, for the Emperor protects.


About Onshava

I'm a writer who grew up a total geek. I attended the University of Florida (Go Gators!), graduated, and set out to make my place in the world in the great city of Chicago. I'm married (still not sure how I suckered her into it), have two dogs, and think subway trains are the devil's magic. Also, I'm a horribly addicted hobbyist. Warhammer 40k, MMOs, Xbox gaming, writing, reading, playing guitar, painting, modeling (not the sexy GQ kind) name it, I probably do it. I also like to talk, a lot. So, to quote Deckard Cain, "Hello, my friends! Stay awhile, and listen." View all posts by Onshava

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