Warhammer 40k fanfiction - Can I post it here?

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So, I basically am a huge night owl. I have read the entire Horus Heresy series, and numerous other short stories and novel's set in the Warhammer 40k universe. I'm just kinda bored, and was hoping to just write out this buzzing idea in my head. Fair warning, if you don't know Warhammer 40k, it's going to get dark, bloody, and grim.


In the grim dark future there is only war

"It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that he may never truly die. Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods."

It was night and the near perpetual rain wasn't helping visibility at all. He slid behind some debris and tried to slow his breathing. He peered over the top and quickly ducked when he heard the pop-pop of small arms fire and the wind up of a sentry's chaingun. Chips of stone and some type of adhesive bounced off his helmet, confirming that the enemy was in fact, still alive and well, far from the “Nothing but ash and charred bones!” the ship's captain had claimed. Still, the orbital barrage had allowed his team to infiltrate the city walls, and that was something.

Jeros checked his las rifles powercell then waited for the small arms fire to stop. Pulling a grenade, he let it cook for a few seconds before he threw it where his ears told him the hum of the chaingun had been coming from. Just before it hit the ground it exploded, and he was rewarded with cries of pain. Unfortunately, the hum of the automated sentry guns was still audible over they’re screams and he knew he hadn’t taken out the real threat. Cursing his luck he readied himself for a quick dash to the next source of cover when an even larger explosion made the stones under his feet tremble. Good, thought Jeros, at least those bastards from the 42nd were progressing.

Most of the landmass of FL-3679 was a mix of humid swamp, marsh, bog and rivers, with large seas and oceans seeming to overlap the two distinguishable continents, one of which was the planets rapidly diminishing southern polar region, accounting for approximately 5.7% of the planets surface landmass. The northern polar region was nothing but a vast ocean and FL-3679 had all the hallmarks of a planet whose northern icecap had been destroyed by an asteroid or other astral body and was now almost entirely covered in water. The few sporatic and isolated islands of land that rose out of the ocean served as tide markers for the planet that was, for the most part, now submerged. These islands provided an approximate 4.3% of the planets remaining surface landmass.

However, the continent that provided roughly 90% of the surface landmass of the planet was what had been of tactical significance. Intelligence had shown that of the 200 million indigenous humanoids, less then ten percent of them lived on the equatorial spanning continent. Supporting webbed hands, feet, gills and other mutations, most of this off shoot of the human genome lived under the water and remained blissfully unaware of the day to day surface life. However, being the only landmass to still reach the energizing solar rays reliably without the need to worry about the lunar tides, the populace had devised an ingenious method of photo-synthetic energy to try and preserve itself.

With the lighter gravity of the planet and the solidity of its surface somewhat questionable, it had been decided that armor would be a liability and that standard fortifications would take too long to build, due to the miraculous, or cursed, plant life’s resiliency and would provide minimal benefit at best. The Shi’Rin, as they called themselves, were not one to attack fortifications, preferring hit and run tactics to head on engagements. The problem with that style of guerrilla warfare was that they were an aquatic race, used to fighting and hunting underwater. With only one city above the waters to defend, even located in the center of a dormant volcano, they seemed unfamiliar with land based warfare and had unwittingly provided some of the best natural fortifications that the planet had to offer. What it had all boiled down to was manpower, infantry would be the only way to mount any realistic assault that wouldn't compromise the miraculous technology the tech adept's seemed to gibber about. They were the best, and only, option.

Diplomacy was out of the question with these creatures. Genetic mutation and they’re evolutionary tract had secured the race’s extinction, for the Emperor would suffer not the alien or heretic to live, and the Shi’Rin were both. The Shi’Rin may have once been human, but millennium away from the light of the Emperor and the unfortunate fate of their planet had put them too far outside of the acceptable norms for them to be integrated into the fold of the Empire. What was even worse, in the eyes of those few whom had conversed with them, was that they did not seem to speak vocally. Instead they communicated by a series of clicks, shrieks, body language and pheromones secreted through they’re skin.

First contact had lasted barely a scant hour when it had erupted into violence. Without warning the delegation had been murdered, to a man, in the span of six seconds.

Seven months later and the enemy were no less willing to surrender then they had been on the first day of fighting. Nine hundred thousand troops had been called on to bring this planet to compliance, and FL-3679, nicknamed “The Swamp” by the guardsmen tasked with bringing it into the fold of the Empire, had made minimal progress and High Marshall Demson was getting impatient with the task forces lack of progress. It did not matter to Demson that the planet’s surface could not support heavy armor. Nor did it matter that the planet was already inhabited by a race of indigenous humanoids that had a population of almost two hundred million. What did matter was that the planet was located in a sector of space that was to be the High Marshall’s staging area for his next phase of operation, and that was that.

Jeros waited to make sure that there wouldn’t be anymore stone shaking explosions before he dive rolled to the archway of some damn building he didn’t know the name of. Before he had fully stood up the ground he had just tumbled through was peppered with tiny metal bolts and he whispered a prayer thanking the Emperor for his protection. Waiting for the hum of the chaingun to whir down, Jeros risked a glance down the alley. What little light there was showed him an obstacle course that would of made the old man himself whistle in appreciation. These Shi’Rin are an aquatic species, thought Jeros, but they’re fast learners. The past 7 months had taught the Shi’Rin that they’re erstwhile genetic cousins were a force to be reckoned with, though at first it had been a bit of the other way around.

Jeros shuddered remembering the first time he and his squad-mates had seen one of them. The fact that they had only seen its eyes is what had cost them two comrades that night. When they had given chase, the bastards had been expecting it and they had lost Flin to a wickedly barbed plant, furiously growing into Flin’s skull, through his right eye socket. Flin hadn’t died easy; the plant had hooked into his skull and released a cloud of spores that had made breathing and seeing difficult. Flin had grabbed the spike while screaming when the damn thing had started to dig and grow itself further into his skull. The wet popping sound and the strangled gurgle were the last sounds Flin ever made before he shot himself in the head. The screams would haunt Jeros for month's afterwards, and he would never be able to look at a flower the same way again.

If it hadn’t been for ol Piter they probably all would of been dead that night. Piter, standing next to poor Flin, incinerated the plant with a blast of his flamer, killing the plant that had killed his buddy, but had paid the price. The plant’s spiked and lethally barbed limbs whipped back, and shot into Piter, impaling him over a dozen times. At least he had died quickly, Emperor be praised. Jeros hoped to be that lucky. That was the night they had learned to use flamers to clear a path of plant life. As wet as this world was, fire still burned.

Killer plants were one thing, but the way the Shi’Rin smelled was like a splinter in his throat and there were at least two dead ones less then ten yards from his position.

He heard the tell tale click of the chaingun powering down and counted to 5 before he leaned around the corner and fired off at full auto where he had seen the muzzle flashes of the sentry gun. Happily, before it could power back up, he hit its main power feed and was rewarded with a satisfyingly audible electrically charged jolt. He laughed to himself and ran back the way he had come.


I realize it's not as polished as I would like, but I figured it was a good way to introduce myself. For the Emperor!

Why the hell not? 40K it up, I love me some good ole warhamster. But it could be good to mention warhammer fantasy stuff here too because I doubt that there's enough love for warhammer here to warrant two threads and I imagine that you like you some fantasy warhamsters too like myself. I personally love to read stuff on vampire counts, and when it comes to 40k I'm all about the necrons and waagh! 40k Orks are hilarious, they are the some of the dumbest but most magical creatures in the 40k universe because all of their stuff works based on the sheer virtue that they think it does.

Have you ever assembled an army yourself? When I've got the time and money I enjoy painting necrons, grey knights, battle sisters, and orks. Just started painting a Death Company and it's looking every bit as grizzly as I had hoped. Yeah, 40k has to be one of the most grim fantasy universes out there. The Imperium just can't seem to stop the tau, nids, orks, and daemons. I guess the only question is who ends up on top of the scrap heap and when. Probably nids first and then finally the daemons. Either way the universe is utterly doomed because you can't do s**t about nids and demons, they are just endless. Necrons are my personal favorite though, very underrated I think by the table top community because if you can eyeball distances like a carpenter you can just sweep the table all the time with them, they aren't nearly as squishy as they seem when you use them right. It's just hilarious when you pump off two shots into a unit, charge it with just necron warriors so that they don't get to assault in to you. They of course slaughter you in melee but you just stand right back up, pump off two more shots into them and charge again. There was a time when people were pretty damn surprised if necros charged, good times...