name: Hive Fleet Behemoth (Warhammer 40,000) NOTE: I wrote this a couple years ago, and honestly I can't remember how much of it I plagerized. If you've ever heard of the game Warhammer 40,000, RTFM and you'll see many parallels (if not exact copies). I'm re-reading that fine manual myself to see how much I could get in trouble for should I ever work up the appetite to finish this. thx sp for the props ;-) UPDATE: It seems that perhaps i really was this good, so maybe i still am? (the Preface is taken word-for-word from 40k, but thats because it sounds so fucking cool) UPDATE 2: Now that i've re-read this a few times, i'm going to re-write it. I remember the story i was trying to make, and now i'm going to make it. If you've ever read Dune by Frank Herbert, this story will probably seem to have the same 'voice'. The preface, however, will remain Preface - 40,000 AD For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor 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 Imperium for whom a thousand souls die every day, for whom blood is drunk and human flesh - the stuff of which the Imperium is made. 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. This is the tale of those times. It is a universe you can live in today - if you dare - for this is a dark and terrible era where you will find little comfort or hope. If you want to take part in the adventure then prepare yourself now. Forget the power of technology, science, and common humanity. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for there is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter and the laughter of thirsting gods. But the universe is a big place and, whatever happens, you will not be missed... Chapter 1 - Boot Camp "Come on wimps!" yelled Sergeant Kryst. 13 year old Joseph Gast ran through the training course. His breathing was not hard, but he felt his heart pumping faster. This is easy he thought as he crawled under the barbed wire. When he had signed up for the Space Marines a month ago, he hadn't thought that he would have lasted a day, much less this long. He stood up after the barbed wire, and ran to the next obstacle. Basic training passed by quickly, mainly because Joseph didn't have time to think about time. About three-quarters of his company had been deemed unfit for the Space Marines, and Joseph hoped he wouldn't be the next one. To be a Space Marine meant a lifetime of war. It meant being a part of the Emperor's Elite, His Chosen. It was to be more than human, it was to be a demigod, a harbinger of death to the Imperium's enemies, wherever they may appear, whatever form they may take. This level of commitment is difficult to maintain, as the Horus Heresy had hammered into the minds of every human everywhere. To remain sane in these times is a challenge. To remain loyal to the Emperor after watching countless numbers of fellow soldiers die horrible and agonizing deaths takes something more. This "something more" is what every Space Marine must have. They must have the will and the courage to make the continuation of the human race their personal responsibility. It is no wonder then that only a few out of hundreds make it through the first weeks. Once he got through basic training, they would begin their genetic enhancing of his body. Then he would truly be super-human. He would be stronger and faster than a normal human. His senses would be enhanced a hundred fold. He would be immune to most poisons, and he would even be able to survive in vacuum for a short time. He would also be bound to his fellow marines. The organs that would be implanted in his body came at the sacrifice of another brave marine. The organs were harvested in the form of undeveloped gene-seeds, and would be implanted in Joseph's body to develop. Some memories and other extraneous genetic material would inevitable be transferred with it, and so he would sometimes remember things he had never done. He would truly be a brother to the Space Marines. He would truly be a son to the Emperor. Joseph looked at the bunk above him, his muscles unknotting themselves after an especially grueling day. Twenty plus mile runs, calisthenics before the break of dawn, and classes upon classes of mathematics, history, and xeno-biology, all taking their toll on his young system. He didn't much care. His body would adapt. * * * "As soon as the general anesthetic takes effect, we will begin." The apothecary's voice was cool and soothing, a calm spot in a raging universe. This was the day he would be transformed, his adolescent growth helping to fuel the development of the new organs his body would contain. He could feel himself slipping away, and at first tried to fight against it, but soon he could fight no longer. Besides, this is the last rest I'll get, he thought, now I am a space marine. He stayed in the infirmary for two weeks for observation. The apothecary had to make sure there was no organ rejection. When the doctor was certain there would be no rejection, Joseph was allowed to leave the infirmary and go back to his barracks. From there, he would have another week of mild training while he waited for the shuttle to take him to Macragge, ruling center of the Ultramar cluster, planetary base of the Ultramarines chapter of the Space Marines. He already felt super-human. This, of course, was merely psychosomatic. The organs had barely two weeks to start growing. It would be at least a year before they started working. Joseph knew this, but it didn't stop the feelings of invulnerability. His life, if not cut short by dying in battle, would last nearly a millennium. It was hard to grasp the concept of a millennium of life, but still the thought was intoxicating. His life as he knew it was officially over. His new life would begin in just seven day's time. That was the one thing he didn't think about. Chapter 2 - Genestealers Far from the Ultramar cluster lay the hive world of Ichar IV. Hive worlds are characterized by their massive, domed enclosures that protect the inhabitants from such things as a hostile atmosphere or a deadly star. These "hives" can house millions upon millions of people in a small amount of space. For this reason, the main portions of the hives are dank and ill kept. It goes without saying that many forms of life, some human, some no longer human, made their homes in the deep parts of the hive. It is these parts of the hives where the Genestealers mustered their forces. * * * It started as a new phenomenon, a new religion, if you will. Even though they knew they would certainly be burned as heretics by the Inquisition, thousands of people joined the growing sect. The promises of food and eternal bliss were too good to pass up, even if they were too good to be true. Koleb Oran, just a simple hive-dweller, knew better than to join a cult. There was no god but the Emperor, the savior of mankind. Still, he was fascinated by it, and his fascination festered and grew into fixation. He had to see what the fuss was all about. He gathered his cloak and his laspistol and left for the depths of the hive. The elevator deposited him on level 999, the second lowest level underground. The door opened, and he looked in on an entirely different world. Tens of thousands of people were walking in orderly lines, up and down the corridors. Each was cloaked in a white hooded tunic. In the center of the corridors, gray-clad (priests?) people were handing out vials of some green, glowing, viscous liquid, which the followers in white quickly consumed. He slowly moved closer to the somber lines of people. He noticed that each was garnishing a rifle. Some even had more extravagant weapons like chainswords and power fists. Quite an impressive array of weaponry for a religion, thought Koleb. One may be led to believe they have an alterior motive. Which in fact they did. "What are you doing here?" a voice whispered behind him. Koleb jumped about a meter in the air. The voice was soft yet sinister. "Are you here to join the Revolution?" "Well, uh... I... um..." started Koleb as he turned to face his interrogator. The familiar white cloak covered the man, but now Koleb could see inside. It didn't look... human. "N..n..no..." "Then you must die!" hissed the cloaked figure. Four clawed hands flew out of the white ropes and slashed Koleb across the abdomen. He screamed, a mixed scream of pain and grief. Nobody turned to look at the blood-curdling sound. Nobody turned to look as Koleb Oran's intestines spilled onto the ground. The final image burned onto his retinas was that of a snarling, purple-white face. The face of a monster. * * * Ichar IV kept rotating in the night. The genestealer cult grew more numerous. The humans who joined were changed into something not quite human, not quite genestealer. Genestealer hybrids, living only to serve the will of their Patriarch. The genestealers themselves were perfect killing machines. Unable to feel pain or fear, they were tough, resilient, and agile. Wars are most easily won when the enemy does not know he is fighting. And the humans on the planet didn't know a thing. Chapter 3 - Uprising on Ichar IV He would not panic, he promised himself. "Space Marine Control, this is Ichar IV, do you read?" Imperial Commander Paston looked down at the screens in front of him. Some had gone blank, but most showed gray-clad figures firing on the helpless denizens of the hive. His communication team was desperately trying to get anyone here to deal with this insurrection. "Space Marine Control, this is Ichar IV, Imperial Governor's Office, do you read?" The gray forces of the Genestealer cult seemed to be easily moving towards the higher, richer levels of the hive. "Concentrate our forces at the entrance to level 270. Be sure to get those lascannons down there." "But sir," said one technician, "what about the people on the lower levels." Governor Paston let out a deep sigh. "There's nothing we can do." * * * "...ace Mar......trol, this is Ichar IV, do you read?" Joseph Gast leapt out of his seat. When he'd signed on for night watch at the comm station, he hadn't expected anything to happen. Well, for the time being he was cured of that shortcoming. "Lieutenant? Incoming transmission on emergency channel!" "Put it on speakers," Lieutenant Criel called back. "Yes, sir," replied Gast and he hit the appropriate switch. "...his is Ichar IV, Imperial Governor's Office, do you read?" The transmission was a little distorted from its journey through the warp, and Joseph immediately began to clean it up. "Space Marine control, this is Ichar IV, do you..." "We read you Ichar IV. Lieutenant Aryan Criel, Ultramarines Chapter responding." Criel paused. "What is the emergency?" * * * "Let's move it people!" Sergeant Kryst called out. Joseph Gast was almost getting used to his yelling. Almost, but not quite. The call was in, and the Ultramarines were being mobilized. He was to report immediately to the shuttles to be ferried up to the huge carrier Pride of Ultramar. This would be his first combat experience, and he was a bit scared, but mostly he was exhilarated. He would be fighting against the bad guys for the safety of the human race. Quite an experience, he told himself. He watched the veterans, how they calmly and rationally jogged to their assigned shuttles. There was no emotion on their faces at all. They looked like they were etched in stone. So many battles they've seen, fought in, and survived. Captain Tireas Cort of the Ultramarine's first company stared back at the new recruit. Being a plebe, his genetic transformation was not yet complete, and he was assigned to the tenth company, also known as the scouts. It was their job to infiltrate the enemy lines, do some damage, and get out alive. The first company (which Cort belonged to) was the Veterans, and the only company with Tactical Dreadnought Armor, also known as Terminator Armor. These suits were so thick that only the most powerful weapons could even think about penetrating it. Terminator armor was also self-powered, so that the user would be able to move more easily in the massive suit. Most of the chapter's Terminator armor was very old, as the knowledge for making it has long since been forgotten. It was a great honor to be chosen for the first company, and Cort knew it. Cort stared at the scout for a while longer, then turned and headed for his shuttle. * * * The Pride of Ultramar, with dozens of smaller support craft, slipped into the Warp. On the ship, all rested easily. There was no anxiety, no fear of death. The Emperor's Will would see them through this battle, as it had for nigh unto ten thousand years. In the heart of the ship, a meeting was being held. Marneus Calgar, Lord Macragge, Ruler of Ultramar, and Leader of the Ultramarines Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes furled his brow. Little information was available about the uprising on Ichar IV, such as enemy numbers and weaponry. His Chief Librarian, Tigurius, greatest of the Psykers of the Ultramarines Chapter, stood opposite him. Arrayed around the table were the commanders of the ten companies, as well as some tech-priests and apothecaries. A proper strategy is needed to win any battle. The meeting continued for a long time. The Pride of Ultramar traveled on. Chapter 4 - Cauterize Real space twisted and contorted, and then it spit out the Pride of Ultramar. The ship, upon noticing no surface-to-space weapons fire, quickly assumed a high orbit around the hive world of Ichar IV. The battle on the ground raged on as the Pride of Ultramar began unloading its shuttles. Marneus Calgar, along with most of the Ultramarine's first company and a few squads of scouts, was in the first shuttle down. Joseph Gast openly stared at him, as did a few of his squad-mates. They hardly expected to see The Lord Macragge, let alone be in the same shuttle. They watched as he adjusted the settings on his powerfists, huge glove- like weapons that (when on) crackled with power. Embedded in each was a boltgun, standard armament of the Space Marines. The Gauntlets of Ultramar were rumored to have been wrested from a Chaos lord by Robute Gulliman, Primarch of the Ultramarines, himself. The techpriests were unable to pierce their armor to find the workings of them, and now the artifacts are worn by the Lord Macragge to bring purity to chaos. There was no talking at all as the shuttle descended into the deadly atmosphere of Ichar IV and docked at the level 50 airlock. Chapter 5 - Beyond the Astronomican "All stations report," called captain Thaird. He listened as his officers sounded off. Communications, Tactical, Navigation, Engineering, all stations reported green. "Prepare to leave Tyran orbit at one-quarter sub-warp." Navigation signaled affirmative. The Tyranus peeled up and away from the Tyran research facility. The astropath watched them go. He did not tell them of the slight buzzing he felt in his mind. It would pass in time. He sat, cross-legged on the clean, sterile chamber floor, and meditated. Captain Thaird checked his monitor again. Any minute now they would be far enough away from the planet to enter Warp space. "Navigator," he called, "how is the Warp today?" "Unusually calm, Captain. The Astronomican burns brightly." Captain Thaird smiled. It was about damn time something went right with these expeditions. The Astronomican is what makes travel through the Warp possible. It is a beacon, broadcasted by a team of psykers (beings with psychic powers). The Navigators use the Astronomican like a road map, to steer the ship in the correct direction. Even with the Astronomican, countless numbers of ships get lost in the Warp, their souls stolen by the Chaos gods. But the Astronomican has its limits. It is this limit and beyond that the Tyran research station was created to study. Tyran itself lies almost on the edge of the Astronomican. Once one reaches the end of the Astronomican, safe travel through the Warp is impossible, allowing only sub-light speeds to be attained. Captain Thaird felt that the whole thing was pointless. After all, if another sentient race is found, it can only inevitably become an enemy. He tapped his monitor. "All hands, this is the Captain." His voice reverberated throughout the ship. "Prepare to enter Warp Space." The Navigator nodded and closed his eyes. The Warp engines on the Tyranus twisted open the door to the Warp and pushed it through.] He told himself he was dreaming it, the cold clawing at his soul. The shields on the Tyranus were made to prevent the Chaos demons from gaining entry. He prayed to the Emperor that the shields were holding. He glanced at his Navigator and saw a look of concern on his face. Captain Thaird's stomach sank deeper as he glanced at his monitor. They were supposed to have exited the Warp by now. No sooner had the thought occurred, than his viewscreen changed from the black-blue of Warp space to the blackness at the end of the galaxy. The sigh from his lips was audible, and his Navigator looked back at him. "You doubt me?" he questioned. "With the Chaos gods clawing for your soul, even the best man will lose his nerve," the Captain replied with an air of grandeur. His Navigator just laughed. After many weeks at the highest sub-warp speed the Tyranus could attain, they reached their first destination, BA-0451, a planet not yet christened with a name. Appendix 1 - The Warp "It's not the best way to travel faster than light, it's just the only way." - Tech-Priest Agemen Trechel, Adeptus Mechanicus In the forty-first millennium, mankind is spread throughout the galaxy. Countless humans live on countless planets orbiting countless stars. Were it not for the Warp, the distances between these settlements would be all but impossible to traverse. The Warp is an alternate dimension of psychic matter. It is the place from which our consciousness is born, and to which our consciousness goes. It is the home of the Chaos gods and demons. It is also the reason that mankind can travel between the stars. A ship opens a gateway into the Warp, where it can travel upon energy currents to its destination in a fraction of the time. How small a fraction depends on the Warp. The Warp acts much like an ocean, with currents and eddies that can impede or aid travel. Only a special caste of humans known as the Navigators can safely pilot a ship through the tides and currents of the Warp. Their swollen cranium houses a mind extremely sensitive to the eccentricities of the Warp. There are many outright hazardous things that dwell in the realm of the immaterium. A proper Warp shield is supposed to protect against them, but even the slightest chink in the armor could allow a Chaos demon to reduce the entire crew to maniacal lunatics committing depraved acts of violence on their fellow crew. Then, there are also the Warp Storms, violent energy fluxes that can throw ships years off-course, or even destroy them outright. In spite of all these dangers, the Warp is the only way to travel between the stars, and as such, it is a necessary evil. There are also some places where real space and the Warp overlap. These overlaps create Dark Zones, places where Chaos rules, where demons can bathe in the light of hell worlds. The largest of these zones is called the Eye of Terror. The Space Wolves chapter of Space Marines, who make their home close to the Eye of Terror, have endured many raids from Chaos. The Warp also gives some humans psychic powers. The human can draw on the power of the Warp to do strange and frightening things. However, these humans are inherently dangerous, as each mind attuned to the Warp could potentially become a host for a demon. That is why there is the Adeptus Astra Telepathica. The Adeptus Astra Telepathica rounds up millions of unstable psykers in huge barges and ships them back to earth. There they are dumped into the Golden Throne of the Emperor, their souls feeding and sustaining him. Outline Prologue - 40,000 AD Boot Camp Genestealers Uprising on Ichar IV Cauterize Beyond the Astronomican Altros - Deserted Planet Destruction of Tyran Psychic Feedback Ultramar - Disturbance in the Warp Prandium - Jewel of Ultramar The Fleet of the Ultramarines The Tyranids Assault on Macragge Retreat North Pole The Return of the Fleet The Hive Tyrant Last Man Standing Epilogue - 40,000 AD APPENDICES The Warp The Imperium of Man The Chaos Gods