MidHammer 40,000

[BY ORDER OF THE EMPEROR: THIS PAGE IS CURRENTLY A WORK IN PROGRESS.]

There is no true peace amongst the stars, yet it is not all carnage and slaughter. Thirsting gods laugh as they send their minions to work evil, but their laughter is drowned out by the defiant battle cry of the loyal - for the Emperor! His Will be done!

MidHammer 40,000 is a /tg/ rewrite of the Warhammer 40,000 universe, trying to strike a balance between the grimdark original and BrightHammer. It aims for a grimbright or 'grimlight' feeling; barring the Emperor and the Primarchs, plus maybe a lucky few exceptional people, a single individual is unlikely to alter the state of the galaxy meaningfully, being but a single drop on the platter of history. Yet together, the people of the Imperium stand, each doing their part, pooling their single drops into an unstoppable tide that washes away the darkness. Many die, and they shall sadly not be remembered, but their deeds shall forever be honoured.

Thread links:

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/59185788/

So what's different?

Whereas OriginalHammer is grimdark - shit's fucked and it's not going to get better - and BrightHammer is noblebright - shit's grand and it's only gonna get better - MidHammer takes a different approach. We aim for a grimbright or 'grimlight' feeling; sure, it looks like we're fairly boned now, but we all know that if we hold on a little longer, a brighter tomorrow shall be our fate.

Lore-Wise, the Lorgar Letdown wasn't as succesful as the OriginalHammer Horus Heresy. Whereas some things went better than in OH, with the Space Wolves Legion (though not Russ, who is now a *ahem* lone wolf, crusading through the IoM) falling to Chaos and the Alpha Legion driven to Tzeentch by their obsession with plots within plots, these victories are outweighed by the increased loyalist sentiments in the Primarchs and their Legions; Fulgrim, BROS FOR LIFE with Ferrus Manus, Horus, THE GOODEST BOY, and Magnus, RED MAGIC SPACE MAN, staying loyal, with Lorgar taking over as Heresiarch. This leads to the Lorgar Letdown being far less damaging than the Horus Heresy, with the most important distinction being that Big E, while still receiving a devastating wound that binds him to the Golden Throne, it is not so bad that he has been slowly dying for the past ten millenia. Instead, he has ever-so-slowly been recovering, communicating more and more frequently with his people and his surviving sons as he regains his strength. Though the threats from without and within are manifold, the people of the Imperium stand resolute, knowing that their Emperor shall soon lead them again.

Writefaggotry

The Dawn of Hades Hive

Sergeant Iastus - no, Lieutenant Iastus, he corrected himself - of the Hades Hive XVIth Militia Platoon surveyed the men and women under his command. Civvies, mostly, though a couple Arbites were mixed in - he’d put those to work as sargeants. A lot of his troopers looked hungry. Most looked tired. All were clearly afraid. Iastus shared that sentiment; he’d fought the Orks before, and it wasn’t something he enjoyed. He winced and reflexively ran his finger over the scar on his leg left there by one of the brutes.

Still, the Hive needed its defenders; the XVIth would have to do. He clutched the Imperial Aquila hanging around his neck, thinking of his home, his wife, and his son.

“Men,” he said, his voice shaky, “on this day, the world of Armageddon stands in the dark of night. Ghazghkull Thraka has returned to plague this noble world once again, and his armies are banging on the gates as we speak.” Several of his troopers went a couple shades paler as he spoke. “Today, the Emperor calls upon you to fight, and perhaps die, for the Imperium.” His voice grew quieter; he’d never been the best at inspiring speeches, and it was showing. He frantically cast around for anything to say that might inspire the civilians under his command to hold the line when the time came. His eye fell on a little girl, holding her mother’s hand, standing next to the parade square at which the XVIth had assembled.

“You there, little one,” he said softly, his vox-amplifier ensuring everyone could hear him.

“Please, join me.”

Looking at her mother, then back at him, the little girl trotted up to the stage, nervously. He noticed she kept glancing into the masses of troops on the field.

“What is your name, little one?” Iastus rested a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. The girl looked down at her shoes as she muttered her response.

“R-Rasa, sir. Rasa Halen.” At once, her furtive looks at the troops made sense.

“Trooper Halen! Step forward.” Iastus barked an order in his stern Sergeant voice. Speeches weren’t his forte, but orders... orders he could do.

A wiry man dressed in the uniform of the Arbites nervously stepped forward. “I-I’m sorry, sir, I told her to stay home today but-”

“Trooper Halen! This is your daughter, correct?” The man stood shaking in his boots, unsure as to where this was going

“Y-yes, sir.”

Iastus put on a friendly smile. He had no idea where he was going with this, but for once, his tongue seemed to have found him. He clutched his Aquila a little tighter and patted Rasa’s head.

“She’s got guts to come here today. Got that from her dad, for sure.” He turned his gaze towards the assembled Hive Militia platoon.

“Men! Before you, you see the daughter of one of your own. You might have come to know Trooper Halen during our training together, or perhaps in the cafetarium. Perhaps you knew him from before this mess, perhaps this is the first time you’ve heard his name. It matters not. He comes from our Hive, from our planet - he’s one of ours!” His voice grew steady, taking on volume as Iastus’ confidence grew.

“Trooper Halen! Would you let any green-skinned barbarian near little Rasa?”

The soldier, who had relaxed a little now the Lieutenant’s attention was no longer on him, snapped back into attention. “Never, sir! They’d have to go through me!”

“Excellent. I would expect nothing less. Those Orks out there, though, seem eager to spill the blood of your daughter and your wife. Are you going to let that happen?” Trooper Halen’s earlier fear seemed to ebb away as righteous anger asserted itself. “Frak that, boss! I’ll fight ‘em all with my bare hands if I need to - they ain’t gettin’ Rasa and Eleanne!” Some troopers cheered at this, though it quickly died down.

“Men, before you you see Trooper Halen - not one of the Emperor’s Avenging Angels, not one of his fine Guardsmen, nor a PDF soldier. Trooper Halen is just a citizen of the Imperium, one amongst trillions. Yet, he is so much more than that. Through him, and all others like him, the Imperium is made manifest! Through him, and those like him, the tides of treason and bloodshed have been turned back time and time again! Together with him, we shall turn it back once more! These savages come to butcher our friends, our sons, our daughters - will we let them?”

“NO!” A resounding echo resonated through the square. The cheers returned, stronger this time.

“Men - nay, soldiers, HEROES of the Imperium! Today, we stand against carnage! We stand against the darkness, bearing the light that our Emperor has spread through the galaxy since He has led Humanity to claim its destiny! ‘Tis true, night has fallen on Armageddon, but every night must give way to dawn - today, WE end the night! TODAY, MEN, WE ARE THE DAWN, AND THESE FOUL SAVAGES SHALL KNOW IT!”

Like a volcanic eruption to rival the fiercest volcano on Nocturne, defiant cheers erupted from the men and women of the XVIth. Shouts of “We are the dawn!” “They ain’t getting my son!” and

“His Will Be Done!” filled the air. Little Rana, confused and scared by all the shouting, began to cry and hugged her dad, still standing out of rank. Iastus patted her on the back.

“It will be alright, little one. Dawn has broken today.”