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Author Topic: The Black Widows Female Space Marines  (Read 27552 times)

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Offline Doctor Thunder

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #20 on: June 13, 2008, 01:05:22 AM »
Okay, got the next two Terminator Squads to show off.  :)
As before, click on the pics to see a larger version.

First up, Terminator Squad Hisa



Veteran Sister Ayame



Sister Kaede



Sister Machiko



Sister Miine



Sister Nami






Then we have Treminator Squad Rinako



Sister Tori



Sister Yayoi



Veteran Sister Takako



Sister Suma



Sister Shoko




Stay tuned for more updates.  I should have pics of the Power Armored Marinettes early next week.
Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up. See this?
This is my BOOMSTICK! It's a twelve gauge double barreled Remington, S-Mart's top-of-the-line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids Michigan. Retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop Smart. Shop S-mart. Ya got that?!
Now I swear, the next one of you primates, even touches me...
Ya! (BOOM) (BOOM)

Offline Jehan-Reznor

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    • The Dude in Japan
Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #21 on: June 13, 2008, 07:46:23 AM »
well Irandrura is very conservative when it comes to fluff. it is your army so you can do anything with it.
Some people even says that my Hello Kitty marines are not possible :P

The only gripe i have is the monochromatic colors of the cloth.
Keep posting!
"this can't be happening, Man!"
my projects;
http://www.40konline.com/community/index.php?topic=169427.0 budhhist space marines
http://www.40konline.com/community/index.php?topic=163611.0 Doombringer my space marine chapter
http://www.40konline.com/community/index.php?topic=150109.0 Hello Kitty Space Marine Army

Offline Doctor Thunder

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #22 on: June 13, 2008, 11:28:51 PM »
Okay, I got some more blackground fluff for you guys, as well as a fantasic illustration done by Goatboy. 

Enjoy.



INDEX ASTARTES: THE BLACK WIDOWS
+Further to your order (AF/992.D5532674/058666.M41/9283) I have transferred this final copy of my analysis prior to Epsilon-level data purge, including hard copies and original source materials.
Index Astartes Entry 89F41699.D2941

THE BLACK WIDOWS

Seeding Stage:
   This broad category covers the time period when Black Widows are first introduced onto a target world.  The exact methods and dates are cause for significant wasteful speculation amongst my staff, but most reverse-predictions based on infestation levels point to a general time period beginning as early as 75 years prior to the 13th black crusade.  Covert planet-drops would leave behind landing craft remains and residual landing-site ion evidence, and victims of human-trafficking normally undergo medical inquiries sufficient enough to reveal a widow for what she is.  Indeed, it is the lack of evidence in this area that we find most disturbing, and pray for The Emperor’s light to bring this sin to comprehension.
   Widows quickly breed with men from the local population.  Normally they remain in the lower castes of society, where larger families are commonplace and the chances for detection are minimal, but occasionally one will seek out and seduce a man of particular importance on that world, a magistrate or an admiral.  When this happens it is particularly troublesome because it compromises the world’s security at very high levels, and if left undiscovered on worlds with hereditary titles, can even lead to the planetary leaders themselves being descendants of a Widow.
   Before they awaken, Widows display no knowledge of their inhuman nature and dark purpose.  They are normally faithful members of The Church of the Emperor, and accounted as being hard-working and diligent parents. 
Awakening Stage:
   Although the mechanism behind it is not understood, when an infected world comes under attack by chaos forces, Black Widows will leave their families and workplace and begin an aggressive and devastating guerilla campaign against the world’s defenders.  Depending on the level of infestation, this can vary between light to heavy raiding all the way to complete revolt and planet-wide chaos, as was the case on Falcurno.  Their intimate knowledge of local cities, terrain, and populace, allows them to strike strategic targets with devastating effect.  Prime among their initial targets will be weapons and ammunition caches to arm themselves more heavily, which is occasionally made simple if some of their number were formally part of the planetary defense force, using their authority to infiltrate such installations with greater ease.
   Upon meeting up with the chaos invasion forces, they begin acting as advisors, leading small raiding parties and providing priceless information about terrain and defensive layouts.  If their numbers are high enough, they will be organized into their own armed forces, utilizing whatever weapons and armor they can acquire.  When suits of Power Armor become available due to casualties, both friendly and enemy, the plug-in points for The Widow’s Black Carapace are completed, providing a large and eager pool of recipients to don the armor as soon as it becomes available.  Thus Black Widow fighting formations slowly evolve over time from what would be comparable to a planetary defense regiment into a fully-equipped marine force.  Normally this takes place rather slowly, even over the course of several campaigns, but occasionally power armored suits are specifically provided to the Widows by the Dark Mechanicus.
Final Stage:   
   Once a group of Widows reaches the final stage of its maturity, they will be a full-fledged chaos marine force.  Battle-hardened and fully-equipped, they will form their own command structure and become somewhat autonomous from the legion they originally joined.  Black Widows are known to capture the finest of the enemy soldiers they fight against, using them as breeders to create the next generation of super-human warriors.  Black Widow armies tend to be rather small compared to other legions, but occasionally several smaller groups will find each other and merge into a much larger force.

Combat Doctrine:
   “When we move left they hit out right, when we move right they hit our left.  They flow around us like water leaving us to shoot at shadows, all the while sapping our strength and will to fight.”
–Unattributed vox recording from Taroi.
   Black Widows grow more sophisticated as their equipment and armor improves during their development stages, but they never abandon the guerilla style warefare they begin once they have awoken.  Black Widows are slow and methodical, using elaborate feints and dozens of coordinated raids in collusion.  Small groups will engage the enemy, using stealth to infiltrate a position and launching a devastating attack at close range, then withdrawing before enemy forces can coordinate a proper defense.  Enemy forces sent to pursue them as they withdraw are drawn into carefully laid ambush points, usually accompanied by remote-detonated radiation minefields or plague-ridden punji pits.  Dozens of such raids will be used to draw enemy reserves away from the Widow’s actual target.  Only once a target is sufficiently exposed will the Widows attack it.
   Lightning raids and orbital insertions against enemy communications grids, munitions and arms manufactorium, power network nodes, water purification installations, and ration caches are all preferred targets.  In the final stages before an all-out attack, The Black Widows will begin an elaborate pattern of shelling and raiding, designed to force their enemy to constantly fight or redeploy, denying them rest or relief and depleting their remaining ammunition reserves.  The effect of these days without food or sleep is a complete collapse of enemy morale.
   Only once an enemy is depleted of food water and ammunition, cutoff from communications, and exhausted from ceaseless raids, will The Widows finally attack.  When they do finally strike, Widows use overwhelming force, attempting to shock their besieged opponents into a quick surrender.  Where possible, this is accomplished by allied chaos forces, as The Widows have no qualms in sacrificing their allies to achieve victory.
   Black Widows never voluntarily attack an enemy able to withstand them.  When fighting alongside other chaos forces whose sense of martial pride demands an all-out attack, The Black Widows will use the opportunity to attack enemy installations left lightly defended as the chaos advance is countered.
   Unlike many forces of Chaos, Widows prefer to take their enemies alive, and while there is no current explanation for this phenomenon, we have unconfirmed reports from Taroi and Ganatas of enormous burial mounds filled with husks drained of all bodily fluid. 
   Black Widows normally eschew the Dreadclaw Lander used by other chaos forces, preferring the Epsilon Mark VIII Pattern Drop Pod, which is normally associated with loyal astartes forces.  The source of these pods is unknown, but we have several confirmed vid-logs of Widow’s Drop Pods each trailing a single silver strand of monofilament wire behind them as they descend to a planet from orbiting spacecraft.  What purpose or function this strand serves we cannot say at this time.
   Most unusually, Widows have been shown on several occasions a willingness to enter battle without their armor in order to infiltrate a target.  On Ganatas a group of twenty Widows masqueraded as traveling gypsies, and used contacts within the gypsy black market to enter the lower hive city through secret underwater entrances.  On Alucant, several Widows in civilian clothing managed to mix themselves in among hundreds of refugees being shuttled from the surface up to the remaining orbital defense bastion.

Beliefs:
   Reports of sexual debauchery among The Black Widows are commonplace, but no definitive link has been established to Slaanesh worship.  In fact, there are no accounts at this time of The Black Widows making any kind of gesture to the Dark Gods whatsoever.  They do not fight for honor or glory or to gain the praise of a precocious deity.  They fight because it is their nature to do so, and because it pleases them.  They do what they were created to do.  Still, they retain their memories from the life they had prior to their awakening, and it causes them great pain in moments of solitude, like a splinter in their minds.  This guilt leads them to be extremely active between campaigns.  Widows personalize and adorn their armor, and engage in riotous entertainment, anything to numb them to the shame of the people they betrayed and the life they once had. 
   Every Widow must eventually come to terms with their status in the universe.  They are monsters.  Damned souls, created by evil hands and flooded by the darkness of the void before they were even born.  Inhuman, immoral, irredeemable.  For some, they eventually come to embrace their inhuman nature and wallow in the debauchery the universe offers.  For others, they seek death in battle to end their misery.  For still others, there are whispers of Widows falling upon their own swords rather than countenance the depths of their damnation.

Geneseed:
   It is quite likely that The Black Widows geneseed was originally developed from Alpha Legion stock, although this conclusion is based almost entirely on circumstantial evidence.  Black Widow infestations on Imperial worlds have been followed by attacks including Alpha Legion forces at least 76.2% of instances, which could indicate a close working relationship between the two.
During our examination of a partial-corpse that was obtained from a failed raid on Listening Post Pan-9T420.259 (see attached file and photos ref. #3A54808GG464) High-Priest Duvanilite of the Mechanicus commented during the autopsy that the additional internal organs displayed a genetic neutrality that was similar to the Primogenitor geneseed, or what he called “original geneseed.”  The following day High-Priest Duvanilite was aggressively reassigned to another sector, and all attempts to locate his current assignment have gone unanswered, so I am unable to provide further details at this time.
   Black Widows lack Phase 3 and 18 Implants.  Phase 3, Biscopea, stimulates muscle tissue growth, which is why Black Widows are no physically stronger then normal human females.  They are therefore, perhaps intentionally, externally indistinguishable from normal human females.  Phase 18, Progenoids, are the implants by which geneseed zygotes are normally harvested.  Black Widows are able to pass on, through an unidentified process, their modifications to their female offspring.

Battlecry:
“The Thirst of Drak’Nal has come!” (it is unknown what this refers to)

++End transmission++
Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up. See this?
This is my BOOMSTICK! It's a twelve gauge double barreled Remington, S-Mart's top-of-the-line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids Michigan. Retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop Smart. Shop S-mart. Ya got that?!
Now I swear, the next one of you primates, even touches me...
Ya! (BOOM) (BOOM)

Offline ChrisCummins

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #23 on: June 15, 2008, 11:43:15 AM »
This army has been a labor of love for the last two years

This is all the justification needed for any justifications on realism, fluff, or in this case, bra size. :P

This is a fantastic project, I love the imaginative color scheme, and you're a very competent sculptor.

My entry for the sister's tagline competition
In the dark future of the 41st Millenium, there is only cellulite...

Chris

Offline Doctor Thunder

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #24 on: June 20, 2008, 05:37:26 PM »
Okay, I've got two more excellent illustrations by Goatboy and two more pieces of fluff for you guys to check out.  I'm currently gathering together enough fluff and pics to make a Codex: Black Widows to print out.  I think that will be really fun for people at the LAGD to be able to pick up a codex to go along with the army.



Incoming Message.....
Transmitter - Station Oriationem 8A57H10-Omicron-5B-Theta…
Receiver – Station Audentia 83645-12B…
Author identified as Senior Santicas Genetor Harkoy…
Beginning Audio Feed…
Beginning Video Feed…
Beginning Holo Feed…
Displaying now…

Puertia Class Autopsy Report #93472-J.40
Ardura Primus-Steiermark-Polizeirevier Sechste
15/09/11668

1930 Local Standard Time:  Subject corpse delivered under attendant polizei guard operating under Lentus clearance 234.754-H.  Subjects clothing and gear removed with some difficulty due to cauterized blood around torsal wounds and delivered to Junior Santicas Joseph Kileman for examination.  (Reference #93472-J.43 examination report) 1 (one) set of civilian clothes; 1 (one) mesh-material under-suit, materials identified as local make normally issued to standing guard, small power-supply unit, heavily damaged during removal process; 2 (two) pistols, make and design identified as autobaugn reuger 22’s; 17 (seventeen) pieces of jewelry and personal artifacts discovered, among them imperial dog tags from private Fraun Ultren.  Datum Servitor Y3.64-D beginning tabulae search but cautions that complete search of all imperial worlds will require 14.66 standard years without further search refinements.

2010 LST:  Initial visual investigation leaves no doubt to the cause of death.  Subject suffered complete circulatory-system failure, consistent with the reported method of termination, having received a direct hit from a Triplex Pattern Plasma Gun during a peace demonstration, burning a hole .32 meters into the chest cavity, destroying the primary heart, and the left ventricle of the secondary heart, and cauterizing the primary lobe arteries.  Presence of secondary heart in female frame indicates high-functioning levels of mutation, mandating a Secunduas-level internal autopsy to follow.

2014 LST:  Subjects vital statistics measured as follows:  Height: 6’2”, (93rd percentile for standard human female), weight 168 pounds, hair color black-22.  Eye color, green-16.  Spectral analysis indicates hair and skin pigmentation with altering bio-dermal compounds normally associated with the Melanochrome gland found in adeptus astartes.  Mammory glands noted to be unusually large for frame (89th percentile for standard human female).  Singular example of ritualistic scarring consistent with the Yparah peace-movement detected.  Large symbol discovered on the back of subject’s neck, bearing unidentified markings.  Unable to determine if mark is brand or tattoo.  No other scars or birthmarks noted.  Fingernails, Toenails, and face of subject were painted with various pigmentations to alter their color.  Data Servitor 823.X53 could not correlate colors and patterns to any known cult, but suggests a 91% possibility that the markings are linked to Arduran courtship and dance customs.  Skin type 2-C showing a consistent tone with no blemishes.  Subject appears to lack body hair except for head and eyebrows.  Epidermal analysis indicates that hair growth appears to have been deactivated at the cellular level.  No explanation currently available.

2039 LST:  The chest cavity proved difficult to open, requiring the strength of two Servitors with Tygor pattern servo-meds.  Ribcage displayed ossification and inter-laced bone plates consistent with Ossmodula organ modifications, but required 28% less force then standard, possibly due to smaller frame.  Remnants of secondary heart indicate reduced capacity and size, again, possibly due to smaller chest cavity.  Datum Servitor Y3.64-D calculates 71% probability that secondary heart acts merely as a supplement to primary heart, and would be unable to sustain sufficient diastolic pressure independently.

2210 LST:  Examination of internal organs progressing.  Unable to locate anticipated scarring, internal or external, from implantation of additional organs.  Biscopea not present, which is consistent with muscle mass and distribution, both of which are within normal human ranges.  Both Preomnor and Multi-Lung exist not as separate organs, but as integrated chambers of stomache and lung respectively.  Both Progenoid Glands completely absent, and appear to have never existed, meaning that there would be no way to harvest gene-seed from subject and create additional ones.  If more abominations like this one, cannot be created, this would indicate a finite threat.

2341 LST:  Skull has been opened and examination progressing.  Catalepsean Node and Sus-an Membrane are completely integrated into surrounding tissues.  Genetic sampling indicates lack of genetic neutrality.  Datum Servitor Y3.64-D calculates 82.1% probability that additional organs present since birth or possibly conception, but offers no explanation on how such a thing could be achieved.   Lyman’s Ear also shows lack of scarring nor shows genetic neutrality, and appears to be the natural inner ear developed from conception.
Occulobe organ appears to be heavily altered and presents itself as a large hemispherical organ integrated directly onto the brain’s sensory centers.  Effect unknown, although Data Servitor 495.X43 noted an unusual distribution of the different regions of the subject’s brain.  The subject’s brain’s pleasure center is approximately 38% larger then in found in standard human females, and has far more connections to the sensory areas of the brain then is normal.

2417 LST:  Servus M-433.S reports completion of genetic analysis.  Analysis indicates that subject is genetically female, making possibility of surgical alteration now .2%.  Serves reports heavy presence of non-mamillian chromosomal sequences and possible presence of fifth base pair.  Servus M-433.S deactivated and scheduled for incineration to prevent possible taint of witchcraft.  Servus M-317.S tasked with repeating genetic sequencing to verify findings.  Station Oriationem instructed to stand by to relay verified findings to Inquisitional Center at Pars-Oriens Datatarium (Reference # 93472-J.41) 

0116 LST:  Epidural layers on torso have been peeled back, revealing the presence of invasive neural bundles consistent with Black Carapace organ.  However, no neural sensors or transfusion points have been fitted, masking it’s presence until now.  Without plug-in points the implant serves no purpose, leading to speculation if plug-in points were intended to be fitted at some future time.  Data Servitor 823.X53 observes that without the plug-in points, there is no external variation between subject and a normal human female.

0122 LST:  Servus M-494.T reports completion of blood analysis. No sign of viral, bacteriological or toxicological contamination has been detected, and the hormonal patterns are only marginally consistent with standard human female, with estrogen and glycogen 23% higher then normal, and three unknown hormonal types present, making possibility of surgical alteration now .005%.  Levels of HCG, Human Corionic Gonadotine detected, indicating pregnancy.

0235 LST:  Opening of uterus revealed unborn fetus, which appears to have died some short time after the subject.  Calcium dating and cellular differentiation indicate that the fetus has been developing for eight weeks.  This is inconsistent with visual examinations, which place the fetus well into the second trimester.  Servus M-494.T estimates 4 month gestation period, but unable to confirm with available data.

0251 LST:  Internal autopsy of fetus has revealed presence of additional organs in development, patterns identical to the mother subject.  Rather than being implanted, they seems to have been hard-wired into the genetic code, although no known craft could achieve such a thing.  It is highly inappropriate for me to inject personal commentary into this report, but for the sheer shock in which I find myself I feel I must.  By The God-Emperor this creature is abhorrent to me, and I cannot in good faith proceed without fear of tainting my own soul.  It makes my skin crawl just to look at it, and my soul shakes to consider the purpose of such a thing.  I am ordering a hault to this autopsy, and will contact my superiors at…

Message feed interrupt.....
Transmitter - Station Inquisit-J25321 666 Location blocked…
Message redirect without tracer authorized – Clearance Level Ultraviolet…
Immediate execution by lethal weapons fire of Senior Santicas Genetor Harkoy and attendant staff commanded of attendant polizei guard…
Subject corpse and attendant Servitors to be placed in stasis immediately until further notice.
Puertia Class AutopsyReport #93472-J.40 No longer found
Transmission Ends…





   Lord Ustin Michka had only two regrets in his life.  The first was that in his youth, he was possessed of an unquenchable ambition.  He wanted power.  Not the meaningless power that his peers sought, the kind of power that enjoys titles and ceremony, but real power.  The power to make decisions that affect the lives of trillions of people.  He wanted the power to guide the course of humanity, and change it for the better.  He wanted the power to triumph over the enemies of the Imperium, and keep safe the lives of its citizens.  This ambition had lead him to create many alliances with questionable individuals over the years, and had lead him to break many promises to people of integrity.
   His second regret was that he had achieved his goals.  In front of him lay an incredibly detailed three-dimensional map of Segmentum Ultima, which covered a large portion of the northern part of the galaxy.  More than three-hundred-thousand inhabited planets, united under a single banner of The Emperor. 
   Without asking leave, Ustin’s attaché Miskyla Valkashin entered the room.  There was no need to stand on ceremony when it was just the two of them.  Ustin trusted her completely, and added a third regret to his mind.  After so many years sharing duty and bed, he should have taken her to wife long ago.  Miskyla did not know that Ustin had already appointed her as his successor, instead of that idiot Valkiev, but it was doubtful that anything would be different between them if she knew, for in addition to her stunning beauty, she had a mind like a razor, partnered with a terrible patience, which Ustin knew would make her a very dangerous leader for anyone to contend with. 
   A saucer of rassolnik stew was placed down along with a shot glass of uralite vodka, which would go un-drunk, just like all of the others.  In his youth, Ustin had been a heavy drinker, but now he could not touch the stuff.  He needed both eyes open to make the decisions that were his burden to make.  Ustin took in a few spoonfuls of the hearty stew, before pushing the bowl away from him.  He could not remember the last time he’d had an appetite.
   In a recess built into the floor, sat a ring of mysterious figures, hooded and cloaked.  Wires and cables spilled out from where their arms should have been, connecting to the base of the projector which created the display in front of Ustin and Miskyla.  Some of the higher-ranking members of the cult of the machine, who had voluntarily given up their humanity to become the most perfect expression of their faith.  Cyberneticly altered to such a huge degree that their will had been completely swallowed up in their function.  In fulfillment of ancient oaths, they served Ustin as they had his successors, as the core of his intelligence network.  Their minds touched every ghost of the Machine God, on every planet under his supervision.  Their eyes saw through every machine-eye and auger on countless worlds, and their minds perceived every message and command.
   Ustin had ordered them hooded and cloaked, for they were horrible to look upon, with cables and machinery bursting forth from grey necrotic flesh, and small clicking mechanical mandibles which twitched and flexed grotesquely with a will all of their own.
   With a simple command, the projection spread and passed around Ustin and Miskyla as it enlarged, highlighting the center of the Tyrant Cordon, where the fighting was most fierce.  The latest reports from Tridia indicated that Gual’Du’Har’s Legionnaires controlled nearly sixty percent of the surface, and nearby Ural was faring no better.  The battle for the space lanes over Tridia, which had been the only part of the campaign going well for them, had been reversed by the arrival of several Ork fleets.
   Ustin wished that he could go back in time and speak with himself as a young man.  There was no glamour in command.  There was no glory or honor.  To be in command is to be a butcher, not of the enemy, but of your own men.  To be in command is to send men to their death, and it was not something that anyone should aspire to achieve.  It was a horrible numbers game.  You kill ten men, in the hopes that it will save twenty, but it does not change the fact that you are the one sending those ten to die.  Trade a thousand lives to save a billion and you are a hero…to everyone except the thousand that die, that is.
   “Battle group Omera is to disengage from Ural immediately, and reinforce Battlegroup Nepena at Tridia,” Ustin commanded, with some difficulty.
   “Estimate complete loss of Ural system within sixteen days of Battlegroup withdrawal,” came the cold reply from a priest.
   “Execute,” Ustin ordered coarsely.  The decision was wrenching, but he had to make a dozen such decisions each and every day.  This decision, in particular, had been acutely difficult.  If he did nothing, both systems would be destroyed, but Ural was his homeland, and most of his family still lived there.  Ustin put his aged hands up to his face.  He would kill every man, woman, and child on Ural, in the hope of saving Tridia, which was, unfortunately, more important strategically. 
   “I am a butcher,” he said as he thought about his nieces and nephews.  At that moment they were probably playing in the backyard of his brother’s estate in the nekov mountains, blissfully unaware that their uncle had just condemned them to die, or worse.
   Ustin felt a pain in his chest, but it was not brought on by the burden of his office.  He clutched feebly at his heart and doubled over in pain.  He moved to scream, but his throat was on fire, and he could barely squeak out a whisper.
   “Miskyla…Valkiev…anybody, please call an apotheacry in here,” he choked out.
   “I’m afraid Mister Valkiev has been dead for some time now,” came the cold reply from the woman standing over him.
   Ustin tried to reach out to tap the control runes on his console, but his strength gave out and he fell out of his chair to the ground, knocking over the bowl of stew that she had brought in.
   His vision blurring with pain, Ustin could feel his heart stop beating.  As he lay there dying, he could only watch helplessly as Miskyla lowered herself down into the recess with the machine priests.  Pulling out a small ceramic dagger, the woman began cutting the cables and tubes coming out from their backs, one by one.  The priests could do nothing to defend themselves, their decaying bodies having lost the ability to move centuries before.  With their nourishment cut off, the clicking of their mandibles became slower and slower, and then finally stopped.
   The projection of the Tyrant Cordon flickered a few times before dying, and the room went dark.
Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up. See this?
This is my BOOMSTICK! It's a twelve gauge double barreled Remington, S-Mart's top-of-the-line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids Michigan. Retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop Smart. Shop S-mart. Ya got that?!
Now I swear, the next one of you primates, even touches me...
Ya! (BOOM) (BOOM)

Offline Doctor Thunder

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #25 on: June 24, 2008, 03:44:43 PM »
Okay, I got the final illustration from Goatboy and another fluff story.  Now we have everything we need to make our own codex.







Roberte Limeman coughed another lung full of stale dry air as he thumbed through the dim data-slates before him, adding his thumbprint where necessary.  He tried as best he could to ignore the vibrations coming up through the floor and into his chair.  Distant artillery fire thrummed rhythmically, causing ripples in the cup of caf on his desk.  The raids had drawn out farther and farther to the west in the past few days, leaving him far from the fighting, but try as he might he could not force himself to calm down.  He wiped the beading sweat off his brow with the cuff of his sleeve as he sent off yet another request for immediate transfer.
Three deliberate clacks rang out on his office door from the guards outside.  Roberte coughed again and walked over as fast as his portly body would allow, tapping the rune on the doorframe.
“Mister Limeman, The Union Leaders from the lower hive are here to see you about the water rationing.”
“Union Leaders?” Roberte repeated in confusion.  “I moved their appointment to tomorrow.”
Through the door, Roberte heard the crack of gunfire and a terrible scream.  His eyes grew wide with fear and he turned around, struggling back towards his desk.
The sounds of scuffle subsided, then there was a sound like thunder and the door to his office blew inward, propelled by a gout of flame that drove it across the room where it embedded itself into the stone shrine of Saint Augusta on the far end.
Roberte rummaged clumsily through his drawer.  Everything was eerily silent as he pulled the desk drawer free and emptied its contents onto the floor before him.  His hearing shocked by the blast, he heard strange clattering noises as he located his autopistol and chambered a round.
Roberte turned around and saw a young woman entering his office through the ruined doorway.  She wore the long rough clothing of the lower hive, but her stance was strong and her eyes burned with lethal vigor and purpose.
No words were wasted as Roberte leveled his pistol and fired as best he could.  The woman stepped sideways like lightning, his shot passing harmlessly past her as she leapt forward.  Adjusting his aim he fired again.  This time she made no effort to dodge, allowing his poorly aimed bullet to tear through the sleeve of her robes as if she knew that was where it would pass.
She rushed towards him, and he lowered his aim for another shot, but she closed the final feet before he could fire.  Now inside his defenses, she grabbed a hold of his forearm wither her delicate fingers, and it fell limp at his side, the gun falling from his grasp and clattering to the floor. 
Unable to move his arm, he attempted a clumsy punch with his other arm, but she ducked beneath it and grabbed it as well.  Her fingers jammed into the pressure points of his muscles, and that arm fell as limp and useless as the first.
Roberte lost his balance and fell backwards.  Unable to catch himself, the back of his head slammed against the cold dusty floor.  His vision blurred in and out of darkness.  Distantly, he could hear the thrum of more gunfire in the hallway outside his office, and the vibration of distant artillery fire.
When his vision cleared, he saw the beautiful face of the young woman looking over him.
“I’m sorry, precious,” she said in low sultry tones, “But I don’t have time for anything else.”
Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him passionately.  His eyes rolled back into his head, then disintegrated.  His face and body followed, reduced in seconds to a dried black husk lying on the floor.
“Stop wasting time,” Chiaki rebuked as she walked into the room, a guard’s autogun slung over her shoulder.  The weaken skull of the husk shattered beneath her foot as she confidently strode over to the blast door behind his desk and pulled the release lever.  Akina sighed and wiped a trickle of spittle from her lips.  Chiaki had only recently joined them, and her time spent among the Black Legion had muddied her thinking.   
The rusted locks creaked in protest, then gave way and the doors slowly slid open.  A gust of pure moist air rushed into the room, fanning the leathery dress that Chiaki wore as she looked on in displeasure.
The room beyond was a stark contrast to the one they were in.  The walls were thick with wet grey moss that clung to the pipe fittings and weld-lines.  Light played off the surface of cool clear water as it permeated through the final bio-filters before being fed into the pumping systems beyond.
A trio of pallid servitors stood motionless, their arms dissolving into a tangle of rusted cables and wires that plugged into the control surfaces before them.
The servitors made no response to their presence.  Their environmental awareness having long ago been deemed unnecessary by the template of their bio-programming.  Nevertheless, Chiaki shouldered her autogun and emptied the clip into their heads, spraying the area with soft tissue and bone.
“You seem troubled by this mission, even irritable I’d say,” Akina observed as she stepped into the room and stretched in the moist air.
“No, Madam Sergeant,” Chiaki said steadily as she followed.  “I do not consider this to be a proper use of military resources.” 
“Don’t you mean a proper use of your skills?” Akina asked, leaning over to look at the water tanks below.  “You’ve picked up a lust for glory and it’s tainted your thinking.”
“A water treatment plant is at best a low-priority civilian target,” Chiaki asserted.
“Emperor’s teeth, you even talk like the Legionaries,” Akina complained as she removed a vial from her pocket.  “This facility has been our primary target for the last three weeks, we just had to displace a few regiments and a couple of titans before we could get to it.”
Akina snapped the vial in half and poured the silver contents into the water below.
“Killing the civilian population will have no impact on the planetary garrisons,” Chiaki commented.  “They have their own recycling systems.”
“This is no poison,” Akina corrected, licking her fingers.  “This is Bhanemold.”
Chiak’s eyes widened. 
“By the end of the week,” Akina explained, placing a vox caster on her ear, “The planetary defense militia will have The Black Legion in front of them, and seven billion starving cannibals behind them.”
Chiaki stepped back, considering the implications. 
“Com-Sat recall order, prep dust-off one hour,” Akina ordered into the vox.
“Madam Sergeant, we’re leaving planetside?” Chiaki asked.
“This planet is already dead.  They just don’t know it yet.”
Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up. See this?
This is my BOOMSTICK! It's a twelve gauge double barreled Remington, S-Mart's top-of-the-line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids Michigan. Retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop Smart. Shop S-mart. Ya got that?!
Now I swear, the next one of you primates, even touches me...
Ya! (BOOM) (BOOM)

Offline Doctor Thunder

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #26 on: June 26, 2008, 06:02:38 PM »
Okay, I got some close up pics of one of the Drop Pods and the first pics of the Femarines in Power Armor.  As before, click on a thumbnail to see a larger pic.

Enjoy. 














Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up. See this?
This is my BOOMSTICK! It's a twelve gauge double barreled Remington, S-Mart's top-of-the-line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids Michigan. Retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop Smart. Shop S-mart. Ya got that?!
Now I swear, the next one of you primates, even touches me...
Ya! (BOOM) (BOOM)

Offline Jehan-Reznor

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #27 on: June 26, 2008, 06:30:23 PM »
the pigtails are a great idea!
"this can't be happening, Man!"
my projects;
http://www.40konline.com/community/index.php?topic=169427.0 budhhist space marines
http://www.40konline.com/community/index.php?topic=163611.0 Doombringer my space marine chapter
http://www.40konline.com/community/index.php?topic=150109.0 Hello Kitty Space Marine Army

Offline XCrusaderguy01

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #28 on: June 26, 2008, 11:54:43 PM »
I am happy to see the caution striping on your chainswords! I adopted a similar convention for my marines. Some people (myself included) think its awesome. Some don't like it, but don't ask me why (a friend of mine said something about tollbooth gates...). I think the thing I am most impressed with is the individual conversion of each model. :o

I haven't read through your fluff as I am very tired, though I intend to later on. There's a lot of negativity out there towards a female chapter (as I'm sure you're well aware), but whether or not the idea meshes perfectly with established "official" fluff is neither here nor there. You've clearly put a monumental effort into making your army unique, and you've done a fantastic job from what I've seen. I'd tip my hat to you if I wore a hat.  :)

Offline Doctor Thunder

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #29 on: June 27, 2008, 12:08:31 AM »
You've clearly put a monumental effort into making your army unique, and you've done a fantastic job from what I've seen. I'd tip my hat to you if I wore a hat.  :)
Thanks, bro.  :)
Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up. See this?
This is my BOOMSTICK! It's a twelve gauge double barreled Remington, S-Mart's top-of-the-line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids Michigan. Retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop Smart. Shop S-mart. Ya got that?!
Now I swear, the next one of you primates, even touches me...
Ya! (BOOM) (BOOM)

Offline Zyfiel

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #30 on: June 27, 2008, 03:41:13 AM »
Wow.  Usually attempts to legitimize female Astartes fall flat on their face, but this is very well thought out.  The lore and details are actually very inticing, and if I were to abandon my current armies, this would be one I would enjoy, were it actually official.  God knows I wouldn't touch an unofficial army list with the crowd I play with.  We get into arguments about the fairness of official rules.

I know they'll probably reject it out of hand (they can't have their glory boys as anything but) but I would even send a draft to Games Workshop just to see what their response is.  With a little luck, you might get an obscure mention in White Dwarf, or a notation for excellent konversion work.  Almost certainly not - seeing as how they've never done anything to support any form of female space marines - but still worth a try.  Why not?
"Burn the witch.  Burn the heretic.  Burn the traitor.  Burn their memory, and then burn the burning.  For the Emperor!"

Offline Doctor Thunder

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #31 on: June 27, 2008, 10:56:18 AM »
I would even send a draft to Games Workshop just to see what their response is.  With a little luck, you might get an obscure mention in White Dwarf, or a notation for excellent konversion work. 
Thanks.  I think I will take your advice and send them a copy of the Codex: Black Widows once it is done.  :)
I can think of no better revenge to the haters out there then if The Black Widows were actually mentioned in a future codex and made official.  That would be awesome.  ;D
Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up. See this?
This is my BOOMSTICK! It's a twelve gauge double barreled Remington, S-Mart's top-of-the-line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids Michigan. Retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop Smart. Shop S-mart. Ya got that?!
Now I swear, the next one of you primates, even touches me...
Ya! (BOOM) (BOOM)

Offline Dr. Ravingburger

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #32 on: June 27, 2008, 04:30:30 PM »
Those are amazing, you really should show them to GW. The conversions are amazing, and I love the paint scheme. About how long does it take you for every marine?

Offline Doctor Thunder

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #33 on: June 27, 2008, 11:15:47 PM »
About how long does it take you for every marine?
About five hours.
Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up. See this?
This is my BOOMSTICK! It's a twelve gauge double barreled Remington, S-Mart's top-of-the-line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids Michigan. Retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop Smart. Shop S-mart. Ya got that?!
Now I swear, the next one of you primates, even touches me...
Ya! (BOOM) (BOOM)

Offline XCrusaderguy01

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #34 on: June 28, 2008, 12:12:49 PM »
About how long does it take you for every marine?
About five hours.

Wow. I am very slow then. I take about 3-5 hours per marine with many fewer conversions than yours. My heavily converted (for me anyways..) marines take upwards of ten hours and aren't nearly as impressive.  :-\

Offline Doctor Thunder

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #35 on: June 29, 2008, 10:54:57 PM »
I've had a lot of requests for more fluff, even some requests for a mini-novel, and that sounded like a fun idea, so here we go.  Here is the first chapter for you guys to read.

Chapter One: Lure

   To an average person, the long spacious tunnels of the cities pneumatic transit system were nothing more then a roar of rushing air and scraping metal as the ancient passenger lines followed the routes set down thousands of years before.  To Nui, however, that was only the first layer of a symphony of sounds and smells.  The drip-drop of running water over rotting stone, the scratching of rodents gnawing on the cera-casing of the brass power lines, and the tart scent of fear and adrenaline emanating from the cadets around her could all be filtered and enhanced at will. 
   As the halo lights of an unused checkpoint flickered rapidly through the car, Nui focused her olfactory senses on the young man seated next to her as a way to pass the time.  Although his face and body showed the bony signs of malnutrition, his hair still gave off the unmistakable flakiness of a regular diet of barley.  This marked him as a definite off-worlder, probably one of the earliest reserves called up from the core systems when this hive world first came under attack ten years before.
   What was the name of this world?  It struck Nui as odd that she could not instantly recall it.  Normally her memory was flawless when it came to mission details, but try as she might, the information just wasn’t there.
   Nui sighed audibly, although no one but her could hear it over the roar of the air that motivated the cylindrical transport cars.  Hive worlds all felt the same after a while.  Endless ferracrete corridors, pavilions, and towers all following the same ceremonial building constructs.  It occurred to her that the only way to really distinguish them from one another was the preferential treatment of one or more local saints in the santuarials.
   Her thoughts were interrupted by a new scent.  Drill Sergeant Kuppmine slid a hand along the overhead handle bar as he walked down the center isle, inspecting each of the young cadets with his stone cold eyes.  When he reached Nui’s squad he paused and looked them over.  His leathery face was a mask of distant disapproval, but his scent told her another story.  His body gave off the tart scent of desire as her looked her over. 
   Nui resisted the urge to spit.  Her body had been designed to be flawlessly attractive to the men of this world, and while it occasionally served a purpose it was more often then not a liability.  Nui considered the option of intentionally scarring her own face to avoid future complications as she raised her gaze and met his eyes with a stare as cold and dark as his was.
   “Arrival time, two minutes,” Sergeant Kuppmine yelled out, and the formerly passive passenger car became a flurry of activity.

   
   There were 9 men in the transport with Mikial Breech.  Jacoby and Smithson had pulled an ammunition crate to the center of the transport area, directly under the top hatch, and were poking their heads out of the top, keeping watch on their rear quarter.  The enemy forces had been completely pushed out of this district by a combined attack from the 455th, 230th, and 243rd.  Rumor had it that an entire Demi-Legion of Adeptus Titanicus had managed to support the battle as well.  Confident as they were, they were still watchful as they moved though the ruined and deserted streets.  The civilian population had not yet rturned to rebuild, and there were persistent rumors of cadet patrols disappearing over the last few days.

   Breech had been promoted to squad sergeant because, unlike most Questani, he had been stationed off-planet for a brief time during his service to the Emperor.  It was supposed that this gave him a greater breadth of experience, which marked him out for leadership.  Breech didn’t really consider guarding the shrine of the Martyr of Casadrin, and memorizing the legends of her life to have given him much in the way of useful combat experience, but he would serve wherever he was called, regardless of the post.  From his viewing slit, he could see the decaying bodies of hundreds of humans, dressed in ragged and bizarre robes, adorned with symbols that burned his eyes to look at them.  In his youth, Breech had been quite the promising student of Imperial history.  He had never come across any mention of such humans anywhere in the annals of any librarium he had visited, and it often made him wonder how the most complete compilations of knowledge could have such obvious and gaping holes in them.
   The smell of decaying flesh was unlike anything else a person could smell.  The foul bodies Breech saw lay undisturbed where they had fallen, stripped of nothing.  It was customary among other regiments to take weapons, ammunition, and trophies when moving through a site such as this, but Questani were far too wary for that, for they knew that only by refusing any contact with the impure could one truly be protected from their influence.  When time permitted, areas such as this would be purified with thermal charges, reducing them to ash.  It was the surest way, the Questani way.
   As the last three tanks moved past the center point of a trench network, no one noticed as a small metallic cylinder roll out from amongst the twisted wreckage.  The cylinder disappeared underneath the tank tracks of the Chimera as it rolled over the device.  For a moment nothing happened, then there was a small thud, and arcs of blue fire shot up the side of the transport and washed over it, like water rolling over rocks in a stream.  It would actually have been quite lovely, were it not for the havock it wrought on the vehicle.  Headlights and signal runes flashed red-hot and then burnt out, the vehicle’s vox array fizzled white-hot and melted down to a little black stump, Jackoby and Smithson dropped back down into the tank, clutching their charred faces with ruined and burnt hands, their screams muffled by the screeching protests of the tank as it ground to a halt.
Mikial grabbed ensign Byron by the collar.
   “Rev-up your vox, tell them that we need to get a medic out here right now. We’ve got two men down.”  Breech raised up his fist, and his squad opened the rear hatch and deployed around the rear quarter of the motionless tank.  Their weapons trained and scanning for any signs of an attacking force.  Quick and fearless they were, professional servants of the Emperor.
   Byron nodded unconsciously to the responses coming in through his vox and then raised up his head.  “The Colonel is on the line, sir.”
   “Put it on speaker,” ordered Breech. 
   The gruff voice of the Colonel came through.  Even through the static reduction of his voice through the vox system, Breech could tell he was irritated.
   “Breech, what the warp happened back there?”
   “Not sure yet.  Could have been a mine, but it looked like sorcery to me.  The tank stopped cold,” Breech reported.  Another voice could be heard talking to the colonel in rasping metallic tones.
   “You have angered the war-spirits, and they refuse to work under your command, Crandall.  As I told you before, the rituals cannot be, as you put it, ‘rushed’.”
   Colonel Crandall could be heard retorting to the adept, “Let me ask you a question, are you able to speak to me without any loss of efficiency as you consult them augers for enemy forces?” 
   There was a pause.
   “No, I am not,” responded the metallic voice.
   “Then why do you seek to fail in the duty which you were given while at the same time attempting to perform a duty which you have not been given?”
   Breech was delighted that he could listen in on this particular conversation, and his admiration for the colonel increased a bit more.
   “I received word from the 230th, they have pushed back the enemy forces here all the back back to Sendicus Hive, if they can receive enough reinforcements within the next 24 terran hours, they can route the enemy there before they can be reinforced themselves,” the colonel explained.  “You know what I’m asking.”
   Breech felt a tinge of fear, for they would be quite on their own for some time.  The value of the confrontation far outweighed their personal lives, and the detachment couldn’t wait for their tank to be repaired. 
   “We will do our duty,” Breech stated.  “Go on without us.”
   “That is all The Emperor asks, my boy.”  There was a pause before Crandall added, “But, don’t worry, you won’t be alone.”


   Engineseer Voeck stared at the colum of tanks disappearing into the distance with a sort to detachment, as if he was watching a dream.  That was a ridiculous notion, of course, since his cybernetic augmentations made it impossible for him to dream.  Dreams were physical manifestations of the weakness inherent in all creations of the flesh.  Creations of the Machine God were far stronger, closer to the perfection of the Machine God itself.  To be left behind to attend to this damaged transport was an inexcusable waste of time and resources.  A second circle, third tier adept of the Omnisiah would be far more useful during the coming battle, where he could aid the spirits of dozens of the fighting vehicles, not tending a single sick war-spirit. 
   This will be reported as quickly as possible and Colonel Crandall shall be stripped of his command Voeck thought, his cybernetic face mandibles clicking in irritation.  He turned around to look at the squad of Questani efficiently building defensive barricades from the wreckage of nearby tanks and buildings.  ‘Efficient’ by their understanding perhaps.  Using the remains of dead machine-creatures without properly appeasing their former war-spirits was akin to grave robbing, and would certainly bring bad fortune to them all.  The cybernetic voicebox in Voeck’s throat created a faint high-pitched rumble, which only another adept of the Machine God would recognize as a sigh.  8 flesh creatures and two machine creatures.  At least he would have the tank to keep him company.


   The sun had already set when Sergeant Breech took his turn on the watch.  Voeck had not said a word to anyone else for the last five hours, grumbling after the manner of his kind as he worked on the damaged tank, and that suited them both just fine.  Their position was known to central command, although that offered little comfort to them as the wind howled, bayed, and sometimes spoke whispers of death as it played over the surfaces of the dead bodies nearby.  Such were the ways of this strange new enemy of dark humans, and Breech his men were unimpressed.  Four times over the last decade they had fought off these strange attackers, and each time they had been driven back, nearly to their drop sites.  This time would be no different.
   They risked no fire, but rather activated a heat-plate, which gave off the heat of a regular campfire, but no visible light.  This gave them the benefit of not loosing their night-vision, for tonight was going to be especially dark.  Michaels and Jet also stood watch, Helfter was using the latrine, and the rest of his squad stood around the heat-plate, consuming their rations and quietly chanting the litany of peace to themselves.  Breech was no poet, but even he could recognize the meaningful image of a few faithful men chanting their faith to The Emperor in the middle of this warped garbage heap. 
   Far above, Breech could make out the shadowy outlines of the bony superstructure of the hive, it’s monitor lights twinkling faintly as if they were starlight.  Out of the corner of his eye, Breech recognized the silhouette of Helfter returning from the latrine.  Breech took another bite out of his ration bar, and noticed that Helfter was walking a little oddly.  Breech chuckled to himself.  He had told Helfter that those caff tablets were past the expiration date.  Now he probably had Walton’s Revenge.
   Breech stopped chewing as the silhouette of Helfter got within a few meters of him and he realized that the silhouette and gait were all wrong to be Helfter.  It was a female in cadet battle fatigues.
   Breech dropped his ration bar to the ground and raised his autogun, but the figure was already on top of him.  He fired a shot uselessly and tried to scream, but the woman had already plunged a piece of metal into his throat.  A horrible gurgle left his body as she removed the blade, and quick as lightning, fired a drawn pistol with a horrible crack into his chest. 
   The impact of the shot sent Breech flying, his body landing on top of the heat-plate with a dead thud.  The men around him scattered to take cover and begin laying down covering fire as they had been trained.  The shadow of the figure that had shot Breech ducked behind a piece of ferro-crete.  True to their training, four men kept up a stead rate of fire as Jet and Michaels moved around to flank the now pinned assailant.  A small black object shot up into the air and burst into a blinding flash of light.  Men screamed and covered their eyes.  Above the screams, two loud shots rang out, and when their vision clearer two men lay dead on the ground.  The men trained their weapons carefully, their eyes straining to readjust to the darkness.
   Michaels and Jet took cover behind a large boulder.  They could hear the horrible sizzle from the heat-plate where Breech’s flesh was now cooking.  A shot rang out and Jet took it in the chest, his body thrown back into a rations crate.  Michaels instinctively ducked down, hiding behind the boulder. 
   Startled by the commotion, Voeck scuttled out from the back of the transport, his artificial limbs twitching this way and that as he stumbled across the loose ground.  The young woman landed behind him and swept his legs out from under him.  She dug a dagger into the ground beneath him, then moved on without stopping to watch as Voeck’s face came down on the blade, passing through the organic parts of his brain before breaking out the other end.
   Michaels tracked her as she moved, letting off a few wild shots into the dark, before feeling a tight jerk backwards as a bullet tore through his knee.  He could hear screaming as he fell backwards, and it took him a moment to realize that it was him.  Two more shots rang out, each one tearing through his elbows. 

   Nui placed a final shot in the man’s other knee and kicked his weapon free for good measure before allowing herself to relax.  Already a black pool of blood was forming underneath him as he gasped for breath, his eyes wild with fear.  She dug the heel of her boot into his injured knee, and he screamed even louder, his head arching back in agony. 
   Slowly, Nui crouched down and took the man’s cheeks in her hands. 
   “Show it to me,” she demanded cruelly.  “I want to see that moment in your eyes, when you look into the abyss, and realize that no one awaits you there.”
   “The Emperor is my light,” the man gurgled, blood spilling down his chin.  His eyes began to close, but she forced them back open with her thumbs.
   “No!” Nui shouted.  “Don’t lie to me.  Tell me what you see!  Show me that there is no warmth in the void!”
   “The Emperor is my life,” he whispered as his eyes grew dark. 
   Nui cursed and threw him aside.  She couldn’t stand the look believers had on their face when they died.  That look of quiet contentment and relief made her blood boil.  She knew the truth, and that these fools would perpetrate their lies even at the moment of death was infuriating.
   Nui took a few moments to pile all of the bodies onto the heat plate, like some sort of sickly barbecue.  It was little touches like this that made her work more enjoyable and took her mind off other things.  Pulling out the entrails of one of the men, she ornamentally hung them off of stiff fingers and protruding limbs.  This certainly wasn’t worthy of the craftsmanship of the Night Lords, but it was a start.  She grabbed a large piece of sheet metal and laid it out in front of the pile of bodies.  Using a chuck of metal, she scratched in the words, “We are the children of Nal’Tret reborn, none shall escape our wrath.”
   She found the phrase a bit pedantic, but then again cultists always did have an overdramatic streak in them.  Taking out a data slate, Nui double-checked the positions of the thirteen other pyres she had created over the past few days, perfectly arrayed along the cardinal points of a summoning circle nearly a kilometer in diameter
   The sound of a heartbeat caught Nui attention and she crouched down, reholstering her slate and drawing her sidearm as silently as she could.  Had she missed one of the squad members?  She cursed herself at the possibility of it.  Her mission parameters demanded that there be zero witnesses.
   Drawing closer to the source of the noise, Nui replayed her actions over the last weeks in her mind, earmarking the unacceptable number of mistakes and mentally chastising herself.  She was definitely losing her edge, and if she didn’t get it back the whole mission could be in jepordy.
   Nui kicked a crate aside and trained her pistol on the small crouching figure.  It was a child, filthy and ragged, picking through the spilled contents of the rations crate.  It looked up at her with the startled eyes of a wild animal.  The child’s muscles were taught, ready to flee, but she kept shoving the ration bars, wrapper and all, into her mouth as quickly as she could.
   Nui’s muscles relaxed as she rebuked herself.  She should have easily been able to distinguish a child’s heartbeat from an adult’s.  Nui raised the pistol and pointed it at the child’s head.
   The child gave no reaction, and gulped down the half-chewed contents of her mouth as if the only thing she truly feared was to have them torn away from her mouth before she had a chance to swallow.
   Nui commanded her hand to pull the trigger, but no shot rang out.  Nui attempted to fire again, but nothing happened.  Sensing it’s chance, the child grabbed two handfuls of rations and fled.
   For several moments Nui stood motionless, compelling her body to move as the child scuttled away, but her body was frozen in place.
   What is wrong with me?
   It was the chime of her vox-comm that broke her from her trance.  She bought a hand up to her ear and clicked twice to signal reception.
   “Mission stat-rep, Corporal?” came the earnest voice of Sergeant Tae over the communicator.
   “Mission complete, ready to receive evac-coordinates,” Nui responded, forcing her voice to remain steady.
   “Did you create the sacrificial pyres as you were instructed?” Tae asked.
   “Aye, Madam Sergeant,” Nui responded steadily.  “There were no witnesses.”
   “Excellent work, Corporal,” Tae praised.  “When the local Commissaratt investigates the scene, they will be convinced that Nal’Tret cultists have begun another reign of blood on this world.”
   “And that will lead Inquisitor Zukovich here,” Nui added.
   “The bait is set.”
Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up. See this?
This is my BOOMSTICK! It's a twelve gauge double barreled Remington, S-Mart's top-of-the-line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids Michigan. Retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop Smart. Shop S-mart. Ya got that?!
Now I swear, the next one of you primates, even touches me...
Ya! (BOOM) (BOOM)

Offline tryanotherone - smurfernating

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #36 on: July 8, 2008, 03:36:24 PM »
This project is definately one of the most unique I have seen. For thinking beyond the bounds, it belongs in the same league with the Hello-Kitty SMs project.

I also saw the BWFSM scouts in the conversion thread.
Fantastic!!!

Good work and great fluff.

Btw, my compliments to Goatboy. He is doing great work.
« Last Edit: July 9, 2008, 05:01:47 AM by tryanotherone »
Taking a very long break.

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Remember Brimstone - legends live forever

Offline DJ-of-E

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #37 on: July 8, 2008, 03:44:36 PM »
I've been lurking this thread for a while...

...and you know what?

I would love to have my painted Sisters of Battle go against your Black Widow Marines.  It would be an f'in epic battle.

Offline Doctor Thunder

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #38 on: July 8, 2008, 05:20:20 PM »
I would love to have my painted Sisters of Battle go against your Black Widow Marines.  It would be an f'in epic battle.
That would be really fun.  One of the house rules I have for this army is that Black Widows and Sisters of Battle get Preferred Enemy against each other.   ;D
Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up. See this?
This is my BOOMSTICK! It's a twelve gauge double barreled Remington, S-Mart's top-of-the-line. You can find this in the sporting goods department. That's right this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids Michigan. Retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel and a hair trigger. That's right. Shop Smart. Shop S-mart. Ya got that?!
Now I swear, the next one of you primates, even touches me...
Ya! (BOOM) (BOOM)

Offline dustermaker

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Re: The Black Widows Female Space Marines
« Reply #39 on: July 8, 2008, 05:26:19 PM »
when I first saw this thread i was like.....no way....but it acutally looks very good with a great story.  Congrats on doing what I thought wasnt possible!
HURRY MAN BEFORE THERE IS STILL TIME!!!!

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/List_of_Space_Marine_Chapters
Link to chaos/loyal chapters with fluff/pics/color schemes etc...

 


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