Editing Daria 40k (section)

===Bonus Chapter: Legends of the Dark Millennium: Mettlemouf.===

If anybody noticed the Rhino at the head of the convoy rocking rhythmically back and forth on its shocks, nobody said anything. Most were too busy refueling, performing maintenance and other mundane but necessary tasks in The Emperor's service now that they had found a safe and relatively defensible position to spend the night. They may not have appreciated being stuck on guard duty, but with the local PDF and Imperial Guard regiments stretched to breaking by the Green Tide, it was up to the men of the Lions Chapter to see the shipment of precious weaponry to the front lines.

Brother Kelvinus, however, was not particularly concerned with the mission at the moment. His task was not a mundane one, and with the effect his Space Marine enhancements had on his ability to reproduce it was certainly not necessary. He was, however, very busy.

The majority of his sacred armor stripped away, excepting, curiously, his pauldrons, the space marine lay on the cold metal floor of the tank, his black carapace cybernetics showing as a dark shadow beneath the glistening skin of his chest, as Angelica, one of the more comely female Chapter Serfs, prepared to straddle him. It barely occurred to him that the woman was meant to breed with the Serfs drawn from the Lions' recruiting program, or that his last paramour may be jealous. After all, she and the rest of the sisters were halfway across the galaxy, battling across the ashen fields of a distant world against the forces of the decadent Slaanesh Daemon Prince Dannlzz, Son of the Sarcocele-Dotted Loins, after an attempt to deal with the degenerate beast more quietly by the Culexus Temple had gone horribly awry.

Nor did it occur to either of them that their dereliction of duty would have consequences. They've both served The Emperor faithfully, haven't they? Weren't they entitled to some reward?

The Emperor, however, as is the prerogative of many a deity, likes to work in mysterious ways. It wasn't long until Angelica noticed some strange scraping sounds and unearthly music over their own noise. Brother Kelvinus attempted to wave it off. Said attempt was rudely interrupted by a sudden breach in the Rhino's hull right next to him.

There should have been some warning. Some sign. No way this beast, its race never known for subtlety, could have gotten in without notice. There were legends in this sector about a legendary Ork Boss-Mek who possessed teleportation systems so advanced he could appear anywhere within a thousand lightyears. A monstrous beast whose bionic jaw, what the foul greenskins referred to as a "gob", could bite through anything like paper. They had been reluctant to believe it, more out of fear, perhaps, than any genuine doubt that a creature with such powers could exist, but there he was. Over a half ton of fungus twisted into the shape of steely muscle by eons-old alien genetic manipulation covered in a bloodstained industrial apron, its pockets filled with incomprehensible but certainly painful tools, crude bionics adorning its body. The most terrifying thing, however was its head. A glowing headlamp that served as its right eye, because the Orks, with their bizarre latent telekinetic and reality-altering abilities believed it could work as such, pulsed in time with its breathing. Its moss-colored face was lined and hateful.

But worst of all was its mouth.

In place of the monstrous teeth and tusks of the typical greenskin, the lower half of the abomination's head was a mass of jagged, glistening metal, held together by crooked, misassembled hydraulics that never should have allowed them to gnash the way they did. Not in any sane universe. Eldritch energies crackled through the metal of the jaws and from out of the depths of the Warp, a strange, hypnotic melody could just barely be heard over the cacophony that Orks were wont to produce.

"Oh no!" Angelica squealed, "The Emperor is punishing us for our sins!"

"Wot? Don't FLATTER yourselves!" the creature said in a staccato voice that reminded the space marine of a commissar he had once fought alongside, "I ain't here for you PANSIE GITS! Though, nows I fink about it, your THICK SKULLS would look good on me BOSSPOLL! Naw, I's here to loots yer shipment o' SHOOTY STUFF! My WAAAUGH's low on supplies and..."

'''"DA BOYZ JUST WANNA HAVE GUNS!"'''

[[Category: Warhammer 40,000]][[Category: Stories]] [[Category:Stories/Warhammer 40,000]]