Reasonable Marines
A /tg/ chapter, the Reasonable Marines are what Space Marines would be if 40K was less grimdark, the Imperium was a benevolent democracy(lolwut? The Emprah is immortal and is all knowing, why would we need to elect leaders?), Tau were happy Koreans and Abaddon was competent. They wear camouflaged power armor, fight using careful tactics that make heavy use of cover, and are the epitome of practicality. They also seek to avoid combat whenever possible and are adept diplomats.
Otherwise known as Pussy Marines or Cowardly Marines, or Heretical Marines (oxymoron).
Synopsis
Reason begets doubt, doubt begets heresy.
Heresy begets retribution.
Imperial Thought for the Day.
Reasonable Marines operate with efficiency. They fulfill their orders and fight valorously and without hesitation, unless they see a more sensible solution that can fulfill the same goals. They always prefer to force a surrender rather than routing the enemy, and take prisoners to interrogate them humanely and use as bargaining chips. It's not so much that they don't like to fight as it is that they're not bloodthirsty - they understand that fighting puts their own in harm's way and is detrimental to their cause due to its great expense.
Seeking vision without prejudice, yet understanding that this ideal may be unattainable, the most important thing to them is to successfully serve the true interests of the Imperium. If this involves negotiating with or even protecting xenos, then that is what they will do.
Heroism and a thirst for glory are frowned upon in their ranks, as they are wasteful of personnel and other resources, and perpetuate the conflict. They wish to create a stable end to the war with mankind in a comfortable and free position. Victory is their goal only insofar as a civilization vanquished in this conflict is sure to be subjugated or annihilated.
In battle, they employ sophisticated and highly coordinated group tactics not commonly associated with normal space marines. Their armor is painted to blend into their environment in order to limit visibility (maybe camouflaged in multiple spectra so that, for example, their heat signature is harder to detect). No matter how cool it looks, a Reasonable Marine still needs to request permission from their commanding officer to carry nonstandard equipment into battle, and must justify this in a way that demonstrates its effectiveness in combat.
One of their mottoes is Sun-Tzu's saying, "For to win one hundred victories in one hundred battles is not the acme of skill. To subdue the enemy without fighting is the acme of skill", which is actually pretty fucking long for a motto.
Writefaggotry!
Captain Darren of the 3rd Company was one of the most decorated members of the Reasonable Marines for three reasons: He was a supreme executor of reason and logic, he was a formidable warrior, and he had a certain manner about him that put many non-Astartes at ease. He was massive, well over eight feet, but he perpetually wore a rather mild facial expression improved with a slight smile. His eyes invited conversation from those around him, and unlike many Astartes from their brother legions, he did not attempt to tower over those Xeno/Heretics/Imperials that they bothered to talk to. He stood well outside of their personal space, and nodded politely as they talked, only offering his own input when it was necessary.
As such, Captain Garren possessed the honorific "Master of the Deal", essentially meaning that diplomacy was his forte. He excelled at it, and was greatly respected for his record of avoiding bloodshed when other Astartes would have simply engaged in a ferocious battle.
As such, when the Tau attacked the Imperial colony on the planet Teron I, Garren was chosen as the ideal candidate to reason with them. The Imperial forces in the sector were baying for blood, but the Reasonable Marines were in the lead: the Imperial Guard forces of the XIV "Rip and Tear" Doom II (a large planet in the Quake system) regiment had no choice but to defer to the command of the Space Marines.
Arriving on the planet, the Reasonable Marines ordered the XIV Regiment to garrison the drop zone and absolutely refrain from hostilities unless fired upon. Darren himself took a squad of Marines and requested negotiations from the Tau commander, which was accepted. A half-company of Guardsmen led by the Regimental Colonel Voss accompanied him.
Arriving at the designated meeting zone, the Tau Commander was wearing his Crisis Suit and was accompanied by a squad of similarly suited warriors. Darren inclined his head, and extended his hand to the larger figure: "I am Captain Darren of the Reasonable Marines, and I come in peace." The Guardsmen murmured and grumbled seditiously, and some of the Astartes politely requested they keep quiet. The Tau Commander was taken aback by Darren’s manner, and looked to his personal bodyguard, who raised an arm in a gesture equivalent to a shrug. “I am Shas’O B’aw, and I welcome you here to Bah’ntowhn, outpost of the Tau Empire.” Darren smiled graciously, though Colonel Voss’ back stiffened at the presumptuousness of this Xeno. “I respect your claim to this area Shas’O, but I’m afraid this is an Imperial planet. Have you filed the necessary forms to annex an established area of Imperial space?” The Tau seemed confused. “No…” “Well I am here to help you in this regard. While I have the greatest respect for your race’s right to expand space, surely there is no need for aggression in doing so? There are unclaimed planets in the area, it isn’t necessary for you to attack an Imperial planet.” “Well…” “I am willing to overlook your intrusion into this area and supply you with anything you need as recompense for the effort it must have taken to control this outpost. I however must request that you leave for now.: if you still desire to take control of this planet I will forward the necessary papers to the local Departmento, which will be forwarded to the system Administratum, which will be forwarded to the Imperial Administratum, and I will have the necessary forms you must sign to request the forms for annexation of an Imperial planet within the decade. Is this acceptable?” “Gu’ela…you do realize we Tau are not as long-lived as your race, right?” “I do, and you have my sincere condolences.”
Only a few days later, completely baffled by the willingness of Darren and his Astartes to help at every opportunity, the Tau vacated Teron I and the Reasonable Marines helped rebuild the damage done. The locals were simply thankful further destruction was avoided.
Colonel Voss filed a formal complaint to the local Departmento in regards to what he saw as treason by Darren in bargaining with a Xeno, but was not willing to wait for a response. Accompanied by a company of his men, he challenged Darren to a duel. Darren politely accepted, and offered to make things fair by allowing Voss to choose nine men to assist him during the duel.
There were no survivors. The Reasonable Marines are suckers for such gentlemanly acts of violence.
Campaign Data
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Accessing Reasonable Marine Date Ref. No. 435-CD...
Permission granted. Loading excerpt from "Tales of Imperial Liberation" by Scribe Tedecis.
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When the Warp Storms abated about the Derelis System after three hundred years of isolation, the Imperium's first contact with the primary production world of Derelis II was disheartening. With the taste of freedom on their lips, the ruling Government split away from the Imperium, and demanded the explorator vessels leave immediately under pain of death.
Nearest of Imperial Forces able to mobilize swiftly, the 3rd Company of the Reasonable Marines led by Captain Sensibus (Ref. The Comforting of Colot) dropped out of the warp a scant week later, striking swiftly at the seat of power of Derelis II's primary hive. Before any of the citizenry knew what was occurring, the Astartes had set up an intense negotiation with the rulers, and convinced them through an old planetary law that their succession was invalid.
Parting amiably from the system, the Reasonable Marines stopped to improve space-born defense systems, and promised to return with a nice gift they would pick up from their next campaign.
Upon news of the system's swift re-absorption into the Imperium of Man, Inquisitor Explodor (Ref. The Big Book of 101 Exterminatus Methods) kicked a nearby wall, and was heard to utter "Dangit".
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Thought for the day: I quite like butterflies.
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More Writefaggotry!
"Incoming signal."
"Hail, Eldar. I am Force Commander Randi of the Reasonable Marine Chapter of the Imperial Adeptus Astartes."
"What is your buisness here, Mon'Keigh?"
"We have become aware that this system harbors a Necron Tomb World, a Chaos incursion, and a Dark Eldar army. We are here to cleanse it."
"Your hostility will not be tolerated!"
"We hold no quarrel with you, Farseer. If we keep out of each other's way there's no reason we can't both fight the true threats here. In fact, if we coordinated against the Necrons..."
"I will not be deceived by your clumsy trickery! This system was once ours and it shall be ours again! I HAVE FORESEEN IT!" <end signal>
"Your orders, Commander?"
"Prepare to land on the Necron Tomb world, and inform the Battle Brothers that the Eldar are now targets as well. If we can kill their high-and-mighty Farseer, we might be able to route them back into the Webway without much fighting."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Commander! Incoming signal from an Imperial Guard regiment!"
"What? Excellent! Now we can..."
"So, you Space Marines think you can just tromp in on your battle-barge and steal the glory of the Imperial Guard, do you?"
"...I..."
"Well we'll show you! I, Vance MOTHERFUCKING Stubbs, declare myself Governor-Militant of this system, and will claim it in the name of the Imperial Guard!" <end signal>
"What just..."
"My Lord! The Inquisition has arrived in the system!"
"Oh what now..."
"Commander Randi! Don't think we didn't detect you sending a signal to those filthy xenos! ALL IS TAINTED! ALL WILL BE PURGED BY THE FIRES OF THE SISTERS OF BATTLE IN THE NAME OF THE HOLY EMPEROR! <DEAN SCREAM>!" <end signal>
...
"My Lord?"
"This is going to be a long fight."
Wall of Fscking Text!
++ I Haven't slept in forty hours! Fanfic! Fuckin Whee! ++
Captain Krasiki fanned the days intelligence reports out over the table. The campaign was shaping up nicely. His extensive talks with the Eldar were coming along, and Farseer Noweigh's promise to consult with the Reasonable Marines instead of treating them as potential pawns was likely to mean a great deal in the coming weeks. A soft blue holo-blip on one of the pages caught his eye, and he pulled out the page. "Excellent..."
Brother Lieutenant Teller had succeeded. It turned out that the Orks would happily follow anyone who could best their war leader in single combat, and Teller’s quick talking, rough peasant accent, and skill with dual lightning claws had given him a great advantage. Now the Orks, armed with gifts of Mo'Dakka and a pair of demobbed PDF Russ battle tanks, were on their way out of the system to smash themselves against the Tyranid splinter that had infested the asteroid mining facility around Athene XXXI. Krasiki already had some ideas on where he could send them if they bested the Nids. This was certainly something to discuss with Farseer Noweigh during their evening conversation.
The door alert flashed green in the lower portion of Krasiki’s field of view, and a small series of tactical symbols scrolled across his vision, explaining that Captain Codicier Bierce was requesting entry. Krasiki stood and walked to the door, opening it manually. Bierce stood In the doorway, a little thin for a marine, but still commanding the impressive 2.5 meters that was the average for the Chapter. Krasiki extended his hand for a forearm to forearm shake, then ushered the Librarian in to the room.
“I am glad that you could make time for me, Brother Captain Krasiki. I understand that coordinating the movement of tactical elements in the system has been consuming much of your time of late.” Said the Librarian, taking a seat a the plane ceramoplastic table. “Indeed, Brother Bierce, this campaign has pressed our philosophy of battle to it’s limit, yet the results are very promising. And if our way of war is to succeed, a leader must always find time to speak with his Intelligence officers. I trust you come in that capacity, Brother?”
The librarian gave a small grin. “Indeed, Brother Captain. In fact I rather miss our days of playing out the angles of the Armageddon war during the flight to the Athene system.”
Krasiki allowed himself a smile. “Your analysis on Yarrick’s psychological value to men who never met or saw him was brilliant, I must say. Now, about your report?”
Bierce pulled a multi-function-display scroll and unrolled it across the table, weighing the ends down with various styli and knick knacks that populated the Captains workspace. He set a small data card on the input patch, and the Scroll glowed a pale green for a moment before booting the card, displaying a planetary approach map of Athene IV.
“ As you know, the primary threat limiting our ability to operate on Athene IV, specifically in airspace of the surface nation Aegisopol, is their use of well camouflaged mobile surface to orbit artillery assets. So far we have been limited to a single insertion of an Auxiliary Forward Intelligence company onto the planet, with the specific mission of locating weaknesses in the STO weapons network. Brother Lieutenant Boole of Xth company reports that Auxiliary Captain Godel’s intelligence team have ferreted out reliable location information on 90% of the STO assets for the next three days, as well as the unit composition of each STO battery”
Bierce pressed a small pip on the scroll and the view changed to a Mercator projection of the planets surface, with several locations highlighted by red circles. Bierce tapped two of the circles, enlarging them until the filled half the screen, then brought up schematics of an armored vehicle on the remaining portion. Krasiki leaned in to more closely examine the schematic, his bionic eye running automatically through target recognition cards until it identified an old Komodo artillery tractor mated with what appeared to be an extremely large breech loading gun, pointing almost straight up.
“I recognize the platform, an older artillery chasis. A post-Apostasy design, but quite sturdy and reliable. The weapons system eludes, me, however. What is it, Codicier Bierce?”
Bierce tapped the scroll several times and the map and vehicle chasis disappeared, replaced by a larger schematic of the weapon itself. It was, indeed, and enormous breech loaded smooth bore gun, the barrel ringed by enormous pressure containment rings and a muzzle brake nearly the size of a Chimera.
“It’s part of a mostly failed Mechanicus project from the late 37th century. The details are Mechanicus secrets, but the basic rituals of operation and litany of deeds give enough to go on. It seems it was part of an attempt to construct a vessel that could function as both a light titan and a light frigate. It was felt that the vessel would be best served by a single weapon that could serve as a direct fire, surface to orbit, orbit to surface, or space to space weapon.
Krasiki winced. “That sounds somewhat… Ambitious.”
“Indeed, Captain. The weapon uses a powerful melta bomb, coupled with force field containment and a rocket stage, to get the projectile to orbit, from whence the remaining rocket fuel is used for terminal guidance to target. In space the weapon had an alarming tendency to rip free of the keel and shoot from it’s mounting into deep space, unfortunately resulting in the destruction of the test rig. In direct fire it would lift the firing platform off the ground and hurl it for some distance, with cataclysmic results. However, with the addition of the muzzle break and significant inertial compensation, as well as a pressurized, fluid suspended crew chamber, it was found that if the weapon was fired directly up it could be used to successfully launch a rocket assisted projectile into outer space with enough reliability to that the design was pursued for several hundred years. In the fullness of time, however, the project seems to have been abandoned when the entire forge world was repurposed to create the very power armor catheter units which we use today. Needless to say many of the prototype weapons and their ammunition were dispersed to planetary defense forces and forgotten to history. We seem to have stumbled across one such stash which was effectively repurposed into Aegisopols famous STO defense net.”
“Hmm. Quite the history, Brother.” Krasiki touched several controls restoring the larger Mercator map. He took a long moment to gather in the location of the various red circles representing the STO batteries.
“Brother Bierce, what manner of armor do these arcane weapons from our Empire’s past bear?”
“The weapon’s system itself is very heavily built by it’s very nature to sustain the forces used in it’s firing. But the artillery tractor itself, though apparently massively reinforced, is not armored in any conventional stance. Aegisopol is deploying them as a stand off weapon to prevent large vessels entering Athene IV space. There are security forces defending the batteries, mostly Chimeras equipped with anti-tank guns and lighter wheeled vehicles. With the space approach so decisively denied to significant space craft they seem to have focused on defense against infiltrators. Not entirely misguided, though our Auxiliary unit under Brother Lieutenant Boole has thus far avoided contact.”
“Brother Bierce, I believe I have a plan. I’ll want to discuss it with yourself and Techmarine Brother Babbage. Please bring all available technical data on these weapon systems, as well as supplementary air and space defense for Aegisopol, to the situation room in one hour. I shall contact Wing Commander Markham and the bridge officers of the Fiat Lux. This has been an enlightening report, Brother.”
. . .
Bombadier Flattery Irenaeus almost fell out of his console seat when the VLRDDAR screen peeped angrily at him.
“Lance-Jack! I’ve got a signal on the Vlidder!” he yelled, steadying himself in the chair.
“Well what the hell is it, Flatline! If you make me warm up the guns for an asteroid again I’m having you drek-tinned to motor duty for a month!” called back Lance Bombadier Geisler. Geisler didn’t consider skywatching for a KomodoSTO tank a particularly glamorous job, but since rumors had started coming down the pipe of an impending invasion he’d been downright tense. It didn’t help that some of the rumors said that the Aegisopol’s centuries long feud with the forge world Erectesseract might be the source. Geisler considered himself a good Imperial citizen. He said his prayers to the Most Holy and Revenant Emperor Who Is Seated In Silent Judgment seven times a day, made pilgrimages to the shrine of Saint Allis the Humble, and made sure his children got a good smack every time they questioned the tenements of the Holy Writ of Man’s Salvation. However sinister and frightening the people of the Mechanicus world might be they were still humans, and he’d been taught that the strength of the Emperor was the loyalty of his Armies striding forth together with perfect loyalty to Him. Irenaeus’s next words snapped Geisler out of any likelihood of reflection.
“Lance! Lance!, they’re inbound our location at 5000 K-klicks per second, 150 thousand K-klicks out!”
“Copy, Bomb!” Geisler grabbed his Vox unit and mashed the scramble button three times in quick order. “Kosto Eyes to Kosto Guns, now here this, inbound hostiles on attack vector, ETA 5 minutes! Guns to launch positions now! Prepare to fire on targets as soon as you have fire solutions! Out!” Geisler dropped the Vox back into it’s cradle and began punching commands into his display console, bringing up a variety of vector and spatial data about the incoming projectiles. The cogitator deep in the huge Komodos innards groaned alarmingly as it calculated the approach trajectories and splashed them across the screen. One of the projectiles was clearly aimed at his unit, a precise trajectory match. Others veered off to different points around the globe, but Geisler had a dirty suspicion he knew where they were headed.
“Frack it. Bomb! They’re targeting all the Komos! Some rat bastards sold out the planet!”
Irenaeus screamed something that might have been a question but was mostly just rage. Then, collected “Lance Bombadier Geisler, I have an intercept trajectory plotted for the attacking projectiles. Transmitting to battery now.”
Geisler’s Vox crackled to life “Kosto Guns 1 To Kosto Eyes, We have firing solutions, dialing to target. Out”
Geisler counted the seconds. Outside the Komodo VLRDDAR vehicle two massive Komodo STO launchers were carefully adjusting their gun barrels for the optimum flight path to intercept the invaders.
“Kosto Guns 1 to Kosto Eyes. Targets locked in, Ready to fire on your mark. Over”
Whatever it was that was dumb enough to try to smash through the Aegisopol STO net was going to find be smashed to bits by the righteous fury of the Emperor. Geisler keyed the Vox.
“Mark.”
. . .
In the dark, grim depths of the space above Athene a pair of projectiles, each nearly a dozen meters long and weight hundreds of kilograms, streaked towards a small gray smudge. The three objects closed on each other at speeds too ludicrously fast for any unaugmented human to follow, The two smaller projectiles strung one after the other, the grey smudge resolving into a much larger, nondescript mass. One of the small projectiles exploded, silently blossoming in a small flash of red light, then disappearing into the overwhelming blackness. It’s payload, thousands of tiny adamant darts, streaked on unseen, their already impressive speed causing them to explode in bright, staccato flashes as they rammed into the skin of the grey smudge. The follow up projectile smashed into it’s surface and detonated, it’s melta warhead liquefying the rock, then turning it into a cloud of bright, incandescent gas, expanding uniformly outward except where something small travelling at high speed shot through it’s center.
. . .
“Lance Jack, Another incoming on the VLRDDAR. Same path, same speed, Eta two minutes!”
Bombadier Irenaeus knew what was going to happen. The huge guns mounted to the Komodo tractors could effectively destroy any space craft coming too close to the surface of this, world, but their reload time was considerable. Crews that could manage a reload in eight minutes at the annual PDF military parade were awarded with a banquet in the great Colonial Hall on central Aegisopol. He kept his eyes trained on the VLRDDAR screen, working the knobs and dials up and down through the scanning frequencies so he could have the best possible targeting information for the gunners as soon as they were ready to fire. He believed in the benevolence of the Emperor of Mankind. He’d always thought Geisler’s slavish devotion to regular prayer a bit obnoxious, but Irenaeus made his evening ablutions and took pilgrimage and fasts when he good. Perhaps the incoming round would miss, or malfunction. Perhaps it was some kind of troop carrier or gunship. If it didn’t destroy both guns in the first pass they could still target any reinforcements that might follow it. Irenaeus wasn’t thinking about these things too hard. Irenaeus wasn’t thinking about life or death. He wasn’t thinking about his wife or his child or his career. His hands worked over the controls with desperate precision. He had only one life in which to serve the Emperor. He would man his station no matter what came, because that was his duty on this day. Nothing else mattered.
When everything went black Geisler was certain that he was dead. And when the screams started he was sure that he’d failed, failed in his duty, failed his Emperor, failed his planet, and now he was to be dragged screaming into the hellish warp between worlds to suffer for all eternity.
“Dammit Geisler! I My screen is dead! The Vlidder is down! Geisler! Restart the frakking engines, man! Lance Jack! Restart the frakking tank!”
Geisler almost didn’t realize what he was doing. By memory he reached out in the darkness and thumped the large ‘Activate’ switch that would awaken the dormant machine spirit to life. Nothing happened, not even a cough. Geisler did it again, and again, and again. Nothing. And then their was a Great, muted WHOOMP that shook the tank. Irenaeus shut up, so Geisler took the chance to yell “The tank won’t start! We’re disabled! They must have hit us right before the landing craft came in!”
Expletives came streaming over from Irenaeus’s side of the fighting compartment.
“Stow that, Bomb! Grab your flashlight and your mask, we’re going out!”
Geisler reached down behind his seat, pulling out his short barreled tanker’s las carbine and gas mask. He tried to cycle the gun up, but got nothing.
“Bomb, check your flashlight!”
“It’s not coming on, Lance Jack! What in His name is going on?”
Geisler didn’t even stop to consider it. He fished around his equipment bandolier and came out with a small fuse assembly. He popped the corresponding bit out of the las carbine and slotted the new one home, then tapped the carbines cycle up button. The weapons small info panel lit, displaying a tight block of faintly glowing information;
Charge:94 Focus:5 Rate:5 Intense: 5 Status:Good.
Geisler actually hugged the little rifle then yelled “Bomb! Bomb, change your fusing block! Something fried the fusing block!”
And in a moment he saw Irenaeus’ unlovely features faintly limned by the glow of a lascarbine’s startup info block.
“Right. Bomb… Get your mask on. We’ll go out and see what’s out there. If we die? For the Emperor!”
“For the Emperor!” …
Geisler popped the hatch open a few centimeters and tried to peer cautiously out, but couldn’t see a damned thing over the blocky chem mask. Not that there was really much to see. From the periscope he’d been able to make out another Komodo a few hundred meters off, largely obscured under camo netting. A Lemus Russ, flanked by a pair of armed trucks, was headed towards his own Komodo, a squad of PDF troopers jobbing along. Geisler pushed the hatch open and clambered rapidly out, dropping flat to the surface of the tank’s command section and scanning the area. He was aware of Irenaeus coming out of the hatch behind him, doing the same thing in the opposite direction. It was the same scene viewed from the periscope, but closer. The Russ and it’s escorts were moving still coming towards him, though he noticed that the multilasers on the armed trucks didn’t seem to be manned. Seeing no immediate danger Geisler tapped Iren to get his attention and then climbed down the tanks side to the ground. He remained alert, but by the time the Leman Russ pulled up in the shadow of the huge Komodo tractor Geisler was fairly certain that they weren’t under immediate attack.
The trucks, their multilasers unmanned but each carrying a pair of lasriflemen, took up positions a distance away from the Komodo to keep an eye on the surroundings. The tank, on the other hand, stopped a dozen meters from Geilser, while the infantry squad came trotting up, staying near the two tanks in case they needed to take cover behind one or the other. Geilser spotted the man wearing Sergeant’s stripes just as the commanders hatch on the Russ popped open and a lieutenant Geisler didn’t know popped out. The muffled voice behind the mask called out “Lance Bombadier! What is your vehicles status?”
Geisler snapped to in spite of himself, then barked. “Sir, My Komodo VLRDDAR is disabled, sir! All systems simultaneously turned off, and I was unable to restart the tank, Sir!”
“Did you do any diagnostic or field repair rituals?” Asked the Lt.
“No sir.” Replied Geisler. “Given the disabling of the tank and the following blast I assumed we were under immediate attack, sir. We tried the activation button, but nothing happened. Same with the lascarbines, at first, but I replaced the fuse block and it started up.”
“Very good, Lance Bombadier. Something’s happened to our electrics. Probably a magnetic pulse weapon or a nuclear device.”
“A Nuclear weapon? Sir?” Geisler had a vauge idea of what a nuke was and what it did. As an artillery bombardier he was aware that it was a very, very large bomb of some special sort. And he knew from his poison protection drills that the after effects of a nuclear weapon could be worse than the blast. He was suddenly quite glad for his gas mask and gunner’s jacket.
“There are other ways to create a magnetic pulse, but a nuke is by far the easiest. Bombadier, you are to attempt to repair your tank. Replace the fuses and solenoids in the engine, and hand start it if you have to. We need to take the unit to a new position as soon as possible. Sergeant?” This to the gasmasked leader of the infantry squad. “assist the Lance Bombadier however you can. If you manage to get the engine running again” The Lieutenant looked around. “Set that tree on fire. If you locate an enemy detonate some grenades and engage immediately. I’ll be back when I’ve talked to the other Komodos.”
The Lieutenant took a long look up at the sky, then looked down into the tank yelling “Driver Allis! About face this monster! Back the way we came! I need to talk …” until he was drowned out by the combined effects of the Russ revving up and dropping down into the turret proper. Geisler took a good look at the Sergeant, unsure if it was someone he know under the blocky chemical mask. “Sergeant, I’d appreciate if you could lend me a couple of troopers. I’ll need someone to help me in the tank, Bomb Ireneaus will need some extra hands to carry tools and parts, and I’ll need someone to yell back and forth for us.”
. . .
Geisler very nearly shat himself when a landspeeder went shooting rapidly across the horizon. When the Leman Russ came rumbling up to investigate the sound of grenades going off it took nearly twenty minutes for the Lieutenant, the Sergeant, and Geisler to come to the conclusion that the flying machine had probably been human, and probably a land speed of some sort. The Sergeant swore up and down that it had been piloted by Space Marines. Neither the Lieutenant nor Geisler believed him, though, until it came back.
. . .
“Whoo, Sorry we missed you guys. There are a couple of mining rigs wrecked fifty klicks east of here that look just like your big artillery tanks. Now where was that… here it is. Ahem."
The Land Speeder, because it was obviously a Land Speeder, was being piloted by a pair of Space Marines, and they were obviously they were each eight feet tall and wore a massive suit of armor quite unlike anything Geisler had ever seen. It was enormous and looked bulky, but the warriors within seemed entirely unhampered by the suit. The whole of it was painted a complicated, blocky pattern of desert colors that seemed to almost blend into the surrounding terrain. Given that the Land Speeder was painted the same way, and that they colors had an interesting way of shifting ever so slightly if you weren’t looking directly at them, Geisler had a very uncomfortable feeling that he could easily walk over this eight foot tall giant if the latter chose to lie very still. The only part not covered in the shifting camoflague paint were one of their enormous rounded shoulder pieces, which happened to be pale blue with a white border and contained a blocky “RM” logo in black, with a pair of white scales behind it. Each of the Marines had a huge stubber hanging from a strap on the front of his chest armor. Geisler thought it was probably twice the caliber of an infantryman’s stubber, and the ammunition box clamped onto the side looked like it belongs to a light machingun of some sort. Then, of course, there were the massive bolt guns clamped in place next to each Marine’s seat, and the pintle mounted Heavy Bolter which looked at least as large and heavy as Geisler himself. Geisler was perversely pleased that both the dismissive tank lieutenant and the rather gruff infantry Sergeant looked just as awed and dumbstruck as he felt.
“We are the Adeptus Astartes. We are the Blade of the Emperor. We are the Angels of Death. Message Follows.
Attention to all Planetary Defense Forces of Athene IV and Loyal Subjects of the Emperor of Mankind. It has come to the attention of the Reasonable Marines Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes that the administrative and military leadership of the Athene planetary system, also know as the Dust Bin, also known as M32.3341.RX.M.G11, Also known as The Aegisopol system, have knowingly and willingly conspired to commit or have committed the following crimes: Treason against the God Emperor of Mankind, Treason against the Empire of the same, Consorting with dangerous Xenos without Authority, Defrauding of an Adeptus Mechanicus Forge World, Withholding of Tithes from an Adeptus Mechanicus Forge World, Pursuing divisive Politics with an adeptus Mechnicus forge world, unauthorized attempts to request military intervention pursuant of attempting to pursue divisive politics with an adeptus mechanicus forge world, murder of Imperial officers pursuant of conspiracy to commit treason, murder of imperial personnel pursuant of conspiracy to commit treason, failure to take affective action to curb an alien invasion, criminal failure to diversify planetary defense infrastructure, failure to answer to the authority of an Adeptus Astartes officer, failure to answer to the authority of an Adeptus Astartes Non-Officer Brother, attempts to use illegal shielding techniques during routine interrogation mind probe, use of drugs of xeno manufacture, possession, ownership, and distribution of xenographic materials, failure to observe the Emperor’s birthday in a timely fashion, misuse of Imperial antigravitic vehicle assets, Being impersonated by a Callidus assassin during unauthorized activites, failure to issues specific NBC training, failure to properly welcome visiting Adeptus Astartes personnel, refused the offer of tea in the presence of two or more arresting officers, and other crimes against the Emperor, the Empire, and Mankind too numerous and heinous to mention. By Imperial Law duly authorized under the authority of the most holy and immortal God Emperor these crimes mentioned, un mentioned, and redacted from this document carry a sentence of immediate death without trial accept in such situations as the arresting officer feels that it is within their remit to offer a trial for the benefit of the Emperor, Humanity, et al. Further, should the arresting officer so see fit sentence of death may be commuted to transformation into mechanicus servitor, immediate assignment to mine clearing duty on a death world, immediate assignment to the astronomicon regardless of psychic potency, assignment to participate in live fire drills during pertinent military exercises, corrective flaying.
Be it known to all Planetary Defense Forces of Athene IV and Loyal Subjects of the Emperor of Mankind; You are called to lay down your arms and surrender to the temporary military and civil authority of your local Adeptus Astartes. With the Arrest of the System governor for various crimes (see above) executive, judicial, and legislative power is currently and temporarily held by the highest ranking adeptus astartes in system until such time as a new governor can be sent by the Terran Administration or a suitable intermin governor is appointed by the highest ranking adeptus astartes in system. Note that in the case of despute matters of rank shall be settled by means of arm wrestling as outlined in Codex Astartes, Pg. 23,450, Subsection VIII, Paragraphs 1 and Q, line’s 12-255.
Should PDF forces voluntarily lay down arms you will be provided transport to the nearest local PDF base where you will be held, with pay, for the duration of the executive emergency. You are encouraged to take advantage of emotional counseling services which will be available on site. Please consider speaking to a councilor if recent events have shaken your faith in the paragon of humanity and you find yourself tempted by dark thoughts in your dreams. Career counselors will also be on hand to assist you in planning your life after the army. Thursday is Potluck night, A-Ms bring Entrees, N-Z bring desert or Appetizer.
Please note that due to the localized nature of the present rebellion attempt decimation, duodecimation, quintecimation, hanging, firing squads, just letting the comissars go nuts will not be considered as punishment for soldiers not actively and knowingly involved in the rebellion. If you were involved in the rebellion we encourage you to step forward and confess as this may improve your case in court and see your case commuted from clearing mines on a death world to planting mines on a death world.
You are reminded that should you wish to surrender and no Adeptus Astartes are present at the time you may surrender to your commanding officer, any duly authorized member of the Arbites, or deputy lord agonizers of the local rubbish pickers union. “ “Whoo. Times like this I’m very glad for my third lung. We’d like to get you all on the road as soon as possible, if we can. You can leave the Komodos hear and load the infantry into on to trucks and other vehicles. We should be able to get you all down to the Chesterton Planetary Defense base by late tomorrow evening to get you a hot shower, a hot meal, and a warm bunk to stay in until the higher ups get everything properly sorted out at the higher levels. We encourage you to make a neat pile of weapons near one of the Komodos and we’ll send a scout unit by soon to make sure they’re properly covered and kept out of the elements.”
“So. Do you folks have any questions?”
. . .
“I think that went very well, Brother Bierce, considering the situation.” Krasiki looked down into the prison chamber. The gallery was hidden in shadow by the steep angles and the bright light, but Krasiki could clearly see down into the cells holding the Planetary Governor, the Lieutenant governor, various high ranking military officials and administrators, and one very unpleasant looking humanoid with sallow skin, long, angular limbs, and sharply pointed ears to match the sharply pointed features of its face.
“Based on your intelligence gathering, interviews conducted planetside, field reconnaissance by the Auxiliary intelligence company, and so forth, it seems this conspiracy didn’t go very far down the ladder.”
“I must say that things might not have gone nearly as well if the Eldar had not been so kind as to tip us off to the influence of their… Dark… relative.” Bierce looked down at the creature with a combination of something approaching pity and a healthy measure of disgust. The creature was not human, despite the broad similarities it’s nature as a Xeno was utterly obvious now that it was stripped of it’s disguise and brought into the light. But seeing the mockery of humanity laid out before him Bierce felt a sense of sadness that intelligences should exist in the galaxy yet be denied the chance to be Men.
“Indeed. That was a very generous gift of intelligence on their part. I believe they were impressed with Lieutenant Teller’s role in guiding the Orks into a sporting fight with that Tyranid hulk. Farseer Noweigh confessed that they had expected the entire system to fall to Genestealers and require some Eldar form of Exterminatus.”
“That would certainly have been a regrettable turn of events. It’s unfortunate that we are often forced to compromise our ideals in the face of threats like the Tyranids.”
“What count of casualties did you finally arrive at, Brother Bierce?
Bierce pulled out his display scroll, unrolling it partially and rapidly calling up the after action report of the campaign. “Confirmed deaths were one thousand, one hundred and thirty four. Of those seven hundred fifty or so died in accidents caused directly by the electro-magnetic pulse attack. Another hundred or so died during a friendly fire incident between two PDF units before we could reach them to announce the governor’s surrender. There were three hundred forty three deaths caused by failure of cybernetics due to the pulse.”
“Yes, That. I believe that is something we should look into preventing in the future. The other deaths were unfortunate, but given the situation probably unavoidable. Faulty cybernetics are entirely correctable .”
“Brother Captain, I believe Brother Apothecarion Penn has taken it upon himself to bestow the medical community of the Athene system with several techniques for radiation hardening of critical life sustaining components.”
Krasiki evinced a slight smile. “I am always impressed by Brother Penn’s diligence in striking back against the grim realities and dark age ignorance with the simple light of reason and knowledge.
“As to these fellows, it seems tomorrows trials will be predictable. The Eldar is a xeno, a death sentence under imperial jurisdiction, but I’ve agreed to turn custody over to Farseer Noweigh upon her promise to remove it from human space and never allow it to return. The Governor has no real defense against the charges of treason, nor do most of his inner circle. Really, almost precipitating a war by skimming of the Adeptus Mechanicus’ tithe. The more junior members, though, won’t have their fate decided until they go before the court tomorrow. I actually believe that the 3rd Lt. Governor was quite as innocent of the whole affair as he says, and not at all due to incompetence, as he was apparently quite close to finding out the truth of the matter and contacting the Imperial authorities. Pending the court's decision tomorrow I may appoint him interim governor until such time as the Administratum can select a permanent replacement.
Reasonable Marines: Kick ass without actually shooting anyone.
++ FUcking one tenth of Nanowrimo in three hours! Not even fucking edited for spelling! ++
External links
- http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/1009422/ (The original idea)
- http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/1029808/ (Kharn is such a great guy)
- http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/1470967/ (Discussion on a 40K army that would make players rage turns to Reasonable Marines)