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Fan Fiction: Praeordinaris, Part One
How an attic find whizzed me back ten years in time.
written by Alex Woitalla, 25.11.08
reat Scott… Leafing through some really old stuff, I discovered a piece of fan fiction, that I wrote about ten years ago. I was playing Necromunda at that time, eager to flesh out the background story of my hive gang. I sat back and read it with a grin on my face and was surprised about the length of it, as it covered about eight pages. As far as I remember, I wrote it in one sleepless night and I think that now the time is right to make it public. Or isn't it? Who cares. I hope my English translation won’t kill the “literary quality” of it. More to follow soon. Sit back and enjoy! Part One.
The most delicate part of the plan was to exactly choose the perfect moment. Neither too early, nor too late. Kesh cowered even deeper into the dark corner. They had to appear soon. He wasn’t afraid. It was anticipation that made his body shiver, the calm before the storm. Slowly he lifted his makeshift weapon to his chin, checking the crude barrel from the corner of his eyes. There was always the possibility of a misfire and unfortunately he had to pay quite a sum to get this peace of junk. But it was the best one could get on the markets, here down in the lowest sectors of the hive. Kesh double checked his fellow gang members’ positions. Bog was squatting behind a heap of concrete, his sword held firmly in his right, staring at Kesh, waiting for the command. Darcides and Stella took their position even further to the left, hiding in the ruins of an old shack, ready to attack from behind. Kesh could not see them, but was absolutely sure, they would attack, as soon as they heard the command.Kesh was the leader of this gang. They were few in numbers, but they had that weapon and Kesh always was good for a crazy plan about how they could gain more territory in the Domes of their home sector. Most people living here were poor suckers, struggling on surviving every single day. Food and good water was the main issue. If one gains control over the two springs in the sector, he ruled. No discussion. Not that Keshs gang ever gained that power over the water, but they were close to it. And Kesh played a vital part in the campaign that was waged against the Jugger during the last thirty cycles. Before that, Kesh had been ordered to pick them off one at a time, stalking the South Dome for days, his fellow gangers by his side. They must have been killing about twenty Juggers, their influence on the Dome never had been weaker, so the Grand Master, as Kesh’s boss called himself, ordered an all out attack on the two Jugger domes. About fifty fellows infiltrated the enemy territory to deal the final blow, and Kesh, Bogs, Stella and Darcides played a vital role to being victorious. Hopefully, as they were the spearhead of this raid. For almost eight cycles they had been in the South Dome, not attracting too much attention, eating skinny rats, robbing some poor scumbags for their booze. During the night times, they sneaked in, past the old manufacturing facilities, hiding in ruins, always on the verge of being discovered by Jugger gangers.
Kesh allowed his thoughts to wander back in time. He remembered his childhood, not more than a hundred deca-circles ago. His father had been working in one of the bigger factories several sectors up. He didn’t know what his father manufactured but the work provided his family with proper housing, even clean water. Until the day Keshs father did not return from work. Heresy, they said, blasphemy his father was accused for. He never saw him again and soon after that, his mother threw herself into one of the great heat-ducts, to put an end to her miserable life, leaving Kesh alone in the streets. But he learned and adapted.
The alley was set for the ambush. The dim light of the Emperor’s Heart was the only source of luminance. Heavy and poisonous exhausts saturated the air, humid and damp, giving all things a shiny greasy appeal. The ever present noisy pulse of the factories was the conductor of the ballet of life and death that all beings in the underhive had to commit to.
Suddenly Kesh was wide awake, as his own pulse began to race, his heart beating so loudly, that he feared it could uncover is position.
Wake up! That voice.
Kesh had no time to think about the voice in his head.
They where coming. Fast.

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