Once a loyal and faithful Commissar to the corpse throne Imperium of mankind, I led the Ironsides Inglorium 4th regiment to retake Basilum nine with only a few hundred men left. We were glorious, flaws were rarely stained on our record, a few losses at most. My regiment fought at the forefront of the battlefield with unflinching loyalty to my command.
I swore an oath to the “Emperor” to take worlds in the name of mankind, until the day of realisation dawned upon me as my men were atomised by incoming fire from our side. On Basilum nine my reputation went down the sink hole like a spider pulled down the drain. Fear took me unexpectedly as I reeked in horror at the loses all around me, life extinguished one by one in a space of microseconds.
It was when fall back to the trench where I hid below that I started to ponder to myself. There was no god of mankind, it was heresy to even think of it, but it was true. My oath was just words, my deeds meant nothing to those wretched men of high command. They decided to fire on friendly ground to tarnish my reputation out of jealousy and pride. My pride was on the line!
A mutiny was in order, when I survived the trench bombardments, I took it upon myself to gather anyone still alive and turn our own bombardment cannons towards high commands HQ. I doubt my actions at first, my thoughts were fuzzy like something was distracting me by controlling my own actions………. . But my drilling in the worship of the Emperor and the imperial laws was slipping away, revenge must be achieved for the sake of the men that I’ve lost. My pride was tarnished for this record of losses (not that the men will know that my revenge was done out of self preservation, rather than moral sympathy for the men lost).
The faces of high command that I saw on the balcony were as red as vermillion, as my lust for revenge consumed me, they looked with horror and fear as the cannon unleashed its payload into HQ. All that remained of high command was a blazing fireball impact that looked like a hellish nightmare.
That day all sense of loyalty was abandoned as me and my men were overcome by the promises of true glory and the sensations of achievement. A faint whisper in our ears told us to join our new master, Slannesh, and give our souls to her patronage.
I took it upon myself to be the first of her chosen, by sacrificing the weakest of my men (and traitors to our cause) on totem poles. Ah a sight to see, it was a divine sight to behold as they yelled for help while the Daemons took these unwilling fools as hosts. Now the netherborn had physical forms to cause material carnage to our former allies and foes, how blessed we were that day.
My cravings were just about full from this carnage, but I needed more. I must have more, my pride must be fulfilled!!!
– The fall of Commissar Tarin Brakem [999.41M]
Thank you for reading this post. If you have any questions, post a comment below and I’ll reply back as soon as I can. Thanks!