Diary of a Space Marine, a Warhammer fanfic - FanFiction.Net
Dumb humor about a Non-Astartes chapter ahead, you have been warned.
Spelling and grammar isn't perfect because the guy who wrote this is dyslexic.
"Day 30
Brother Simonium Fisk the first company Tech-marine suffered the same fate as brother Sinost Baal for the ‘crime’ of techno-heresy. Have bad feeling about today’s trial.
For dinner was beef. Real beef, not the protein synthesised crud. And some sort of poisonous seaweed. The Big-I demanded to sit at the Head Table. Very hard as we don’t have a head table. We all threw beef bones at him and his cronies.
After dinner the squad went to the sparing room to practice fighting with power claws. Got beaten repeatedly by my fellow scouts. Don’t care that we don’t age, I still sometimes feel old.
Trial declared the two Marines guilty and sentenced to execution. Immediately. Just as the standard issue execution rifle was brought forth to the Inquisitor the Chapter Master spoke up. Can’t remember exactly what he said but it went something like this:
“Don’t you dare touch my lads Inquisitor.”
“You wouldn’t dare commit the ultimate heresy by trying to stop me.”
“There’s something you should know ‘Inquisitor’, we here look after our own. And I know these two. They may be unorthodox and prone to excessive bouts of inappropriate humour, but they are good men of the Imperium and if you so much as look at them threateningly again you will die.”
“You would not dare and strike a servant of His highest order.”
It was about this time that the Chapter Master broke the Inquisitors right arm.
“You are a long way from sympathetic ears ‘Inquisitor’, and if you do not leave now things will go very bad for you.”
“Men Attack!” possibly the last thing you should shout in a room full of Adepts of the Astrates.
We buried the inquisitor and his henchmen in the orchard. We will say that he never arrived. The warp can be very treacherous at times."
"Day 39
Snuck into the high security storage area early this morning (as if that word even applies in space), with the help of Tech-Priest Kwith. Big battle banner all in gold and black with the words ‘Burn The Unclean’ in purest white. It now reads ‘Wash The Unclean’.
The Black Retards* have just seen their new banner. You should have seen their faces. Apparently it was a holy relic once belonging to the First Chapter Master or whatever title they give him.
If I can get away with it I’m going to paint all terminator armour pink. Just have to find some red paint. But that’s the thing about being on a Cog-head ship; they are obsessed with the colour red. Think it’s the colour of an important forge world or something.
Spent the rest of the day playing cards with the Dreads. They have started telling light bulb jokes as they play cards now.
How many Cog-heads does it take to change a lamp wick?
Oh no, they’ve forgotten how to make light bulbs again.
How many Imperial Guard troopers does it take to change a light bulb?
Just one. Basic training. Reloading a lass-gun.
How many Tyranids does it take to change a light bulb?
None, they just ate the person trying to change it.
How many Slaanashii cultists does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Two. But how did they get in the light bulb?
How many Emperors of all mankind does it take to change a light bulb?
Just one. And it shall be so bright that you can use it to navigate the warp by."
"Day 75
Still no sign of a ship. I have given up the idea of climbing the mountain; I will watch the xenos and see if a ship ever lands.
Everything on this planet tastes foul. If it is not on the charts already I’m going to name the planet ‘Celery’.
Day 76
Thrown stones in the lake for a laugh.
They threw the stones back, ow.
Day 77
It’s raining again.
Suddenly realized I am standing under a tree in wet adamantine armour. Took armour of for duration of storm.
Day 78
Still raining.
Comm. system got wet. No more music.
Very rainy.
Its like the sea is trying to re-take the land by airdrop."
"Day 106
Was woken up in the universal manner of being kicked in the kidneys. Managed to stand up on the second attempt. Mouth tastes of fermented carpet.
I think that the ship is here.
Large crowd of people in the square. The Lemon Russ tank is still there, but it is now the right way up.
Trying to mingle with the crowd. This is not an easy task when you are more than a foot taller than everyone else, are made up of scar tissue and have fangs.
Crowd walking to ship. Going with the crowd.
Got shown to what look like the barracks. Got given a soup-bowl helmet and a las-rifle. CRAP! I have this horrible feeling that I may have been drafted. This should so not happen to an Astrates.
Really, really, REALLY wish I had not followed those pointy-eared sado-hedonists into the webway.
Everyone thinks I’m some sort of a half-ogyrn.
Day 107
After being shouted at by the Hangman to wake up we were given a very brief briefing. We are currently on route to the far galactic west for some chaos bashing. Hope the Traitor Astrates don’t turn up for this one. You really can’t do much to power armour with a glorified torch unless it’s at point blank range, and if you are that close the one thing you can rely on is the occupant of that armour beating you to death with your own spine.
Got given a flack vest (who am I kidding, its a T-shirt) with XXXXL written on it. It’s going under the scout armour.
Tried to get a bit more info on the Chaos from the Hangman. Got shouted at and told not to ask pointless and heretical questions. Got told to read the instruction manual on the las-weapon. Have now mastered this weapon. Point the narrow end at someone you don’t like and pull the trigger. But if you actually want to hurt someone with it your best bet is to use it as a club.
Day 108
Snuck into the kitchen this morning (that is, what my body is telling me morning is). Got three big mean looking knives and long length of cheese wire.
Borrowed someone else’s las-gun for a while. Used it as a welding torch. My las-rifle now has a bayonet. Found a supply room and ‘acquired’ some long screws. Melted four of them together to make caltrops.
Dinner was soup and bread. Not sure what was in the soup. Its one of them thing that life is so full of. If you are going to ask what is in it then you aren’t hungry enough to actually want to eat it when you find out.
Still have no idea where we are acutely going. Knowing my luck we’ve probably been sent to Angron’s welcome back party on Armageddon. Decided to ask the Hangman again. Got shouted at again.
Day 109
The rest of the regiment has seen the bayonet thing I did. The kitchens are now devoid of large knives and various other things like meat cleavers. Everyone has spent the day fixing knives and pointy objects to their guns. I swear I saw one idiot with a spoon on his gun, I don’t think that would do much even if he sharpened it.
Boring! So mind numbingly bored. Going to wander the ship.
Found where they keep the tacks. And the paint.
Painted the Lemon Russ in garish colours with the word ‘Pimp mobile’ on the side.
Day 110
Wrote on the side of another vehicle ‘My Other Ride Is Your Sister!’
Oooooooh, shiny Baneblade. Now has, in bright electric blue, the words ‘The Owner Of This Vehicle Is Compensating For His Tiny Weapon’
Dinner was some sort of broth. Didn’t taste to bad.
The Engineseer took one look at the tanks and started mumbling about angered machine-spirits.
Decided to ask one of the ships crew where it is we are going. She did not know.
The Hangman found out that I asked where it is we were going. Tried to make an example of me in front of the regiment. Regrettably punching a Space Marine in the jawbone, knuckle duster’s or not, is only going to lead to broken knuckles."
"Day122
The ship we are going on is ours, the Sharp Blade. Taking into account how the ship Unbreakable Shield got broken last century it’s also our only ship. It’s just about big enough to carry the entire Chapter if we are prepared to share rooms and sleep in the corridors and not take the armour of to save oxygen.
One of the dreads came along. He is in the storage bay. Going to see if he is OK.
Its Dread Strappel AKA The Tin Man, the oldest dread in the entire Chapter. Counting the time he spent with the Raven Guard he is about 8,000ish.
Going to play chess with the dread, you need at least three for a decent game of cards."
"Day 150
Found a las-pistol in a locker. Tried firing it underwater. All it did was heat the water around it extremely quickly and give me scalded hands. Taking it for if we end up fighting in one of the bubbles.
Everyone else looking for las-weapons in disused lockers.
Found a melta-gun. Sarge took it of me before I could roll down to the water tanks. He told me that there were things that humanity was not yet ready to learn and one of them is what happens to the user of a melta-gun that is discharged underwater.
Got back to turning spare metal sheeting into harpoons.
Its actually quite nice in a therapeutic way is the making of the harpoons."
*Being Non-Astartes, they're constantly insulted by Astartes Chapters and investigated by the Inquisition.
Ultramarines A.K.A Ultra-Smurfs due to their poor choice of colour.
Black Templars A.K.A Black Retards and such due to their devotion.
I own none of the above material and I'm not making money from it yadda yadda yadda...
Dawn of War: Dark Crusade General Yib-Yab (Off Topic) 
Excerpts from 'Diary of a Space Marine' 
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