Techmarine Plexur Meinz, member of the Adeptus Astartes Iron Death Chapter, whose homeworld and birthplace were left overrun and uninhabitable after a recent Ork "Waaaagh!”, has been dispatched on a secret mission by the Chapter Command, in orbit over their homeworld, Ferrous V, in a last ditch effort to save their world. Having proved his mettle on both the battlefield and with the most notable and greatest of the Iron Death’s machine spirits, the Chapter Command knows no other than Meinz that could accomplish this mission. Plexur Meinz, his retinue of battle-servitors, servitor drones, and servo-skulls travel to the fringes of the Ferrous system onboard “His Known Wisdom” - an Astartes strike vessel specially fitted with archeotech granting faster than normal void-farring speed and maneuverability - in search of the Deadworld Ktrezea. His Chapter’s ancient lore speaks of a millennium-old research station lost amongst the outer fringes of the system. Some say it contained the work of an ancient, legendary ArchMagi - Iono - that could have meant unyielding power in the sector over all. Yet others speak of dangerous, xenos-contrived technology that was better left buried under his forges’ ruins. Meinz is to find the Deadworld Ktrezea, retrieve the ArchMagi relic, and return it to his chapter for their own use. Ork raiders, warp anomalies, forbidden xenos technology, and unanswered questions push Plexur and his crew to the limits. All the while, the movements and the actions of Meinz will be shadowed by the Black Ships of the Ordo Xenos of the sector and the Deathwatch.
Will Meinz be labeled a xenos tech-heretic and eliminated or an acolyte of the Holy Emperor of The Imperium of Man and spared?
Find out in this short story - "The Ferrous Event" - set in the Warhammer 40K Universe authored by Timothy S. Kaney.
First 500 Words:
The Adeptus Astartes of the Iron Death Space Marines Chapter retreated to their orbital stations and battle-barges high above their homeworld - Ferrous V. Many lives were lost during the confrontation with the Ork war party. Too many machines were detonated, looted, or sacrificed in the retreat from the planet surface during the Ork “Waaaagh!” These were machine spirits that he knew and revered. Greater servants of the Imperium of Man he had never ministered since he could remember. Now, they were in the hands of the defiling Ork hordes. He pitied what new, tortured lives they would find in the hands of their keepers. The Ork, he had known, had ways of using machine spirits in ways that would make a Chaos Warlord blush.
To be sure, he valued the lives of his fallen battle-brothers, but not as he so valued the spirits of those machines, chapter artifacts, and weapons that were abandoned. How could they have asked him to sacrifice so many children of the Omnissiah – The Great Machine-God? How could they expect him to abandon his flock with such haste? Was it not worth every effort and opportunity to mount an offensive to retake the planet and retrieve those spirits left suffering at the hands of the Orks now residing on Ferrous V? Then again, if he had openly questioned them, he would be labeled insubordinate, would he not?
Sitting cloaked in gloom and shadows within his quarters aboard “His Known Wisdom" his thoughts turned mournful. Several Mechanicus implants were betraying his emotions with a characteristic slumping. He sensed this and attempted to govern his passions. That psycho-surgery removing all emotion wasn't looking so bad at the moment.
From behind him came a subtle, two-tone signal. It was the code-language of one of his servitor-drones. A man-machine construct, he was, with trundling tracks for locomotion and robotic appendages for utilitarian purposes. This one had been a smuggler in a previous life, he thought he recalled, and this was his new fate. He was now stripped of memory and independent thought with his human form in perpetual servitude of the Omnissiah. A vox caster grafted to its face in place of a mouth allowed for communication. It usually rattled a bit when it "spoke". He would need to commune with it later to stabilize it. Truth was: he found the rattle amusing.
He knew from the frequency it was his number three servitor. In a way droll, and often gazing with ever-open, seemingly seeking eyes. He also knew the message.
The Chapter Command of The Iron Death Space Marines had summoned him for council aboard their flagship “The Ferroustine”. With a long breath, he hefted his Omnissiah-Pattern power axe and erected his imposing frame. The metal grating underfoot creaked and groaned under his massive stature.
Tech Marine Plexur Meinz made for the teleportarium of his vessel - four passages directly stern-ward and two port-side. 432 steps. 356 rivets. 7 minutes. They would listen to him this time.
Thanks for reading my Warhammer 40,000 Fan Fiction. Sadly, this submission was not accepted. On I go and try, try again.