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by NoPoet

[40K] Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: Calgar’s Kidney Stone (part 2)

25/12/2014 in Warhammer 40K

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“Where’s that bloody tech marine?”

Dick had had to enlist three other Ultramarines to help him give a chair-lift to Marneus Calgar. The fat, complaining Chapter Master had point-blank refused to strip out of his armour for the journey. He was paranoid about “That new girl seeing my nipples”.

They’d worked up a fine sweat by the time they reached the transport bay. Unfortunately the bay, which was more of a circular, open-air arena which perpetually stank of promethium, was almost empty. The floor of the bay was streaked with black stains. Above them, the winter sky was a brooding presence.

“He’s uninstalling Firefox from all our computer systems, sir, and loading Opera in their place.”

“Why in the name of Bob Hoskins did I ask him to do that?”

“You need to work harder on those memory tests, sir. The Inquisition declared Firefox to be more bloated than Nurgle’s colon and you were sick of having your computer freeze for five minutes every time you started Firefox up. Said the waiting made your bollocks retract into your hips.”

“Tech-Priest Nerdingham is the laziest, most unmotivated slob in the region,” said Calgar without irony. “The first time he ever does anything I ask him to is the day my kidney goes kamikaze. He was supposed to be working on the Rhinos today!”

“You put the fear of Guilliman into him, my Lord, by threatening him thus: ‘I don’t give a flying feth about the tanks, mate, you either install Opera or spend five minutes in the nerve glove, pain level ‘watching the European intro to Gran Turismo 5.'”

“That’s quite a good impression of me,” Calgar said, not sure whether to be impressed or go into one of his tantrums. “You even pronounced our Primarch’s name correctly. Hardly anybody does that.”

(Unfortunately, dear reader, even I don’t know how to pronounce that name, and I’ve been taking it in vein for more than a decade!)

There was a familiar buzzing crack; not of the lord Calgar’s flatulence for a delightful change, but an incoming lasgun shot.

“Look out, sir!” Dick yelled, almost flipping the Chapter Master out of their grasp as he tumbled the group of Ultramarines sideways.

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by NoPoet

[40K] Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: Calgar’s Kidney Stone (part 1)

23/12/2014 in Warhammer 40K

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Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: Calgar’s Kidney Stone

A Warhammer 40,000 parody by NoPoet

Synopsis: Gasp and vomit your way through this insulting, lavatory-humour farce in which the Lord Calgar, whom my Windows Surface tablet thinks should be called “Marines Calgary”, is menaced by a nasty kidney stone… oh, and an invasion of Nurgle. All Calgar wanted to do was use the toilet…

The Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army Official Anthem

With special thanks to the track author, Dummy, and OC ReMix

==||==

Calgar’s Kidney Stone

-or-

Calgar’s Discomfitting Kidney Mishap

-or-

Marneus Calgar: A Profane, Blasphemous and Intelligence-Insulting Anecdote of One Man’s Unfortunate Circumstance

==||==

PART ONE – THE MADNESS BEGINS… AGAIN

Welcome to Macragge, home to the most pious Imperial servants: an entire Chapter of devout warrior-monks, heroic noblemen whose lives are constantly on the line so trillions of robe-wearing minions can scribe things that someone else chucks in the bin. Macragge is a rocky and cold world, a place where dwell men of legend… and their glorious leader, Marneus Calgar.

“OW!” roared Lord Calgar from his uncompromising squat on the Crapper of Macragge. “My fething piles are playing up. They’re throbbing like alien brains in a B-movie.”

“Then stop sitting down with a thump, sir!” Dick called from outside the door. “Remember what the apothecary said: don’t provoke the piles!

“I’ll provoke the little bastards when I pop them with a power sword and cauterise them with a hand flamer! Even if it itches like a fething bitch, it will be a blessed relief compared to this! I feel like I stuck my arse in a nerve glove set to ‘exterminatus’. Or maybe ‘exterminanus’.”

“My Lord?”

“It was bawdy lavatory humour, Bannerman. You can feel free to laugh.”

“Oh,” Dick said. “Ha. Ha.”

“Nobody ever gets my jokes,” said Marneus Calgar as the toilet strained beneath his podgy rolls. “You know something, Number Two? These aren’t just piles. They’re rancid visitations. Every time I try to push, I get a stabbing pain in my lower back.”

“You might be wiping too hard, sir,” Dick offered. “We can hear bog roll tearing and shuffling in there for twenty minutes every time you have a crap. It’s bound to play havoc with your ring region.”

“You may be right, Number Two,” Calgar conceded. “Oh, speaking of bog roll, some silly tosser used the last of my Andrex. Fetch us a couple of rolls, will you?”

“Which kind, my Lord?”

“Er… natural pebble, because their marketing executives called it that with a straight face. Fair play to them, their will is clearly stronger than mine. And tell the lads to stop pinching it, I’m supposed to be the only person who comes in here at stopping-off time.”

“You are the only person who goes in there, you big fat bog-roll wasting bell end,” Dick muttered as he headed for the pantry, where Calgar hid his Andrex.

“Oh, and Number Two?” Calgar said.

“You shouldn’t really use that nickname when you’re in there, sir,” Bannerman said, coming back. “I never actually know if it’s me you’re talking to.”

“I do apologise, Dick. I’m only the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, who am I to address my underlings in the manner of my choosing?”

“What is it, sir?” said Dick, wisely changing tack.

“Can you explain to me the function of Lyman’s ear?”

“Er, no, to be honest. Do you still want that toilet roll? Only, Milo and I are organising a Forza tournament -”

“The Lyman’s Ear, you great blasphemous tit, allows me to hear everything you say within a football field’s radius, even above the constant, squeaking, gaseous emanation of my ablutions. So the next time you accuse me of wasting toilet roll, get ready for the nerve glove, pain level ‘Listening to the theme tune of classic British sitcom Dear John through headphones, on constant repeat, for five hours, without alcohol or other anaesthetic’.”

“Anything but that!” Dick cried. “My apologies, Lord Calgar. I’ll attend to your toilet roll emergency at once.”

TOOT! replied the Lord Calgar’s arsehole. It echoed for some seconds, trapped between a clogged u-bend and Calgar’s fat, spotty backside.

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by NoPoet

[20K] Revised 20K Timeline (updated April 2013)

17/03/2013 in 20K, Imp Lit News

5.00 avg. rating (97% score) - 3 votes


20K is the unofficial Warhammer 40,000 prequel series which I have been working on for a number of years. There are two “phases” to 20K and three “series” of stories.

PHASE ONE
The early stages of 20K, where humanity is emerging from its safe bases in Solar Segment and beginning to explore the galaxy, hoping to make contact with the fabled One Hundred Worlds. Human technology is limited and humanity begins to learn that alien races are generally hostile and untrustworthy.

PHASE TWO
A more confident and technically proficient

The following is a rough timeline including every 20K story that I am writing or plan to write. I have tried to remove as many spoilers as possible. Note that the timeline is subject to change and is undergoing constant revision.
This is “phase one” of 20K, a desperate time of derring-do. Phase 2, if I ever get that far, has a more mature and more adventurous tone with less of the grimness and grittiness of some of the earlier stories. Look for the crossovers and in-jokes as they appear. Fans of 40K as well as fans of general science fiction should find lots to be happy about.
Please ignore any repetitions or minor mistakes, this is the beta version and I already have the events right in my mind.
20K PHASE 1
40K’s mysterious and exciting history finally comes to life in tales of terror and adventure. Join the brave human pioneers of the Terran Empire as they begin their expansion into a galaxy where anything is possible.
KEY:
FRL = Fearless series
EW = Earthwatch series
SOL = Solstice series
Stories which do not have a series designation are independent stories (in TV parlance they would be “bottle shows”)
NOTE: Significant information is (deliberately) missing from the following timeline! Dates and events are subject to change.
===
20K Date Timeline
Pre-M21
Date Unknown – The Eldar race has become factionalised by hedonism and decadence. Illegal fighting contests and worship of the proscribed god Khaine slowly overtake the fabled city-state of Commoranth, the City of Souls.
Date Unknown – A Chinasian colony receives human visitors who claim to be from the future. These visitors, mighty warriors who say their home planet was destroyed in a cataclysmic war, lend their efforts to the colony’s Human Genhancement Project – with horrific results. (“Faithless”)-[NOTE: This story is currently in progress as of August 2013]
M21
975.M21 – Starships of the Alneran Republic, a hostile alien species whose territory lies within Solar Segment, encounter a mysterious alien being and take him prisoner. The strange hostage escapes when a Terran Navy ship attacks the Alnerans; the being will later turn up in Terran space, where his strange behaviour confounds his human rescuers. (“The Man Without A Past”)-[NOTE: This story is currently in progress as of March 2013]
978.M21 – XMS Southern Cross encounters R’Shan, a member of an unidentified alien species who has been conducting unknown warp experiments within Terran space. (“The Man From Nowhere”)
978.M21 – The Fireblade prototype fighter begins its initial tests, intended to replace the Saxon class fighter. While on combat manoeuvres, a squadron of Fireblades falls foul of a renegade Eldar space fighter. (“Flight of the Fireblade”)
985.M21 – The Centaur class light cruiser is commissioned, intended as a gradual replacement for the legendary Canyon class.
985.M21 – The Terran Empire discovers the first known Warp Gate within Solar Segment.
986.M21 – XMS Ontario and XMS Lexington are sent to investigate the Warp Gate. During the mission, a previously unknown problem with the Ontario’s Gellar Shield hurls the ship into a time-travelling, galaxy-spanning adventure, during which humanity makes first contact with followers of the daemon god Nurgle. (“Ghostwalkers”) [NOTE: This story is currently being revised as of March 2013]
986.M21 – An expedition team of the Pan-Pacific Treaty, a coalition of coporations and nation-states who wish to remain independent of the Terran Empire, discovers a world belonging to the long-vanished Chinasian Bloc. The world has long been abandoned, but the expedition discovers disturbing evidence that the colonists had been conducting genetic experiments influenced by men who claimed to have travelled from the distant future – a time of terrible civil war. (“Legacy of the Future”)
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Brothers

06/11/2009 in Warhammer 40K

2.00 avg. rating (65% score) - 1 vote

BROTHERS
The tale of One Platoon, Charlie Company, First Battalion, Median IV

Prologue: In the Field
A blast of heat brushed by William Palmer’s cheek, as he took a quick look around the tree he hid behind. He brought his head back quickly, quick enough to see the shot that almost grazed his face impact on a tree not four yards away, sending splinters flying.

He checked the ammunition on his autorifle. Less than half in the clip, but he had fresh clips in his pack. He pressed his back to the tree, his heart pounding so loud he swore he could hear it in his ears. Then he jumped out from behind the tree, swinging his autorifle down to his hip.

He squeezed the trigger so hard he thought he might break it, and swung the rifle in a wide arc so that it sprayed bullets. A few aliens fell to the spray of bullets. Others were saved by their large shoulder pads, and returned fire.

William dropped down in the grass, rolling toward another tree. There he ran into someone. Looking up, his pulse quickening, he was relieved to see Robert Oliver, a fellow Guardsman.

Robert grabbed his webbing and yanked him behind the tree he was using for cover. It was wide, like all the other trees in the area. William scrambled to a kneeling position. He looked around.

Men were running, firing at aliens, taking return fire. Screams of pain came as some men were hit and killed by pulses of energy. Cries of anguish came from other men, men who had seen their best friend cut down by merciless fire. Others cursed the Emperor for not giving them the protection they needed.

This was what hell was truly like, William thought.

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by Sholto

Matroyshka

13/09/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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“I’m here to shoot someone.”

Siffering’s next question froze on his lips as his drink-soaked mind processed that last and unexpected response. He frantically hunted through his memory for anything bad he had done, and then quickly shifted to anything bad he had done that other people knew about, in order to narrow the field.

“What? What? Who?”

The oddly-uniformed man still didn’t look at him, his eyes hunting here and there amongst the press of troopers. He spoke in an almost off-hand fashion, as if enjoying a private joke. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him. Please excuse me, trooper.”

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Navy Eagles

23/07/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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Isely felt like he had been punched in the stomach as he yanked back on the stick, wrenching the Kestrel’s nose up. The small fighter shot up through the clouds, half rolled, and then followed through the loop to resume the attack. The targets loomed up in front of him: a vic of unescorted Marauder bombers.
‘Are you still with me, Hurricane Two?’ Isely asked, looking frantically over his right shoulder.
‘Affirm, Hurricane Leader, left and a little low.’
‘Follow me in.’
Isely throttled back slightly and smiled as his targeting computer hummed, signifying a lock. His sights turned red, and he thumbed the fire button. Blue laser bolts streaked out, hissing through the air, and raking the right wing of the lead Marauder. Its number three engine burst into flames, the explosion flashing back to number four engine and then ripping the wing off.
The large craft fell sluggishly earthwards. Isely pulled a max rate turn to the right to avoid the return fire which came criss-crossing back towards him from the two surviving bombers.
‘Leader: Hurricane Two. Bandits, seven o’clock high, strength five.’
Isely cursed. It had started so well, and now they were outnumbered by more than two to one. He knew he could take them, but his instructors would mark him down for being reckless – again.
‘Ok Hurricane Two, form on my wing, we’re out of here.’
Isely saw Tanati’s craft nudge up behind his right wing. The formation of two Kestrel training jets dived through the clouds and back towards Imperial Naval Air Station Somerset.

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The Mutant Child

12/07/2009 in Warhammer Fantasy

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+++

THE MUTANT CHILD
Book One of The Price of Hope,
To be followed by The Vengeful Father

+++

Chapter One

+++

Poc had gone quiet again–that wasn’t good. It never was.  Somehow, he always knew when trouble was coming.

“Poc?”  asked Ghuto.  “Is something bothering you?”

The little boy looked up at him.  “It’s too quiet…”

The dry, dusty road stretched out ahead, coiling like a fat, lazy serpent.  On either side, the fading leaves of the summer-baked trees rustled quietly.

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Steel and Ashes

21/05/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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The Shadow Gallery is renowned across a dozen systems as a work of art. It acts as the council chambers of this world, the seat of power for its Hive-lords and magi, the room where men and women make the decisions that rule the lives of millions in this hive alone. A large amphitheatre of marble and steel, decorated in an old Terran style of scrollwork and fluted columns, it is roofed by a great psyk-reactive crystal dome that resembled shadow-haunted diamond. The acoustics are reputed to be perfect and it is said on a silent day in these vaunted chambers you can hear the shadows dance and flicker from one facet of the crystal to another.

I shattered that silence quite nicely by kicking the doors off their hinges.

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Black Out

17/05/2009 in Original

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$100 Contest Entry by Rufus Sparkfire

———

I walked outside and stood there, in the rain and the wind, staring at nothing. Now that the heat was gone, everything felt different. I was cold and tired, as though I’d woken up from a long and wearying dream. I had rough stubble on my face and tears in my eyes. I realised that I had no idea what I was going to do now, now that everything was over, now that I was past everything I’d ever planned for.

It was a sad feeling, but not bitter exactly. It felt like I’d dug my way out of my own grave to find there was still a long walk before safety. It felt like there was a struggle ahead, and while it might be painful it would never be desperate. It felt like life.

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The Reaper’s Toll

27/10/2008 in Warhammer 40K

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Sector: Varseeni

System: Anturii

Vessel ID: Annihilator, Gothic Class

Task Force: Delta-921

For the glory and future of the Imperium of Man

There before him was the beauty of the universe. A veil of dust and planetary debris spread across the heavens, pinpricked with the glowing light of the stars within it. An entire rainbow of colours lay before his gaze and for a moment he was lost in it. All of this wonder had been the reason he had joined the Imperial naval academy – to explore the glories of a universe beyond his cold and frigid homeworld.

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