I'm happy to announce Dark Omega, my first novel in my Warhammer 40,000 trilogy (it's around 140k words/500 pages). The trilogy is influenced by way the Imperium and the Inquisition are portrayed in Dan Abnett’s Eisenhorn/Ravenor series and the Warhammer 40,000 Roleplay game lines (the bulk of the action actually takes place in and around the official Calixis sector setting). Although the trilogy focuses on Inquisition-affiliated characters, there are plenty of other elements from the 40k setting in there, ranging from Space Marines, via Rogue Trader and Guardsmen, to foul Chaos heretics.

Hope you enjoy it!

B.

DIRECT DOWNLOAD (.pdf format)

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Read it on Wattpad.com (handy for mobile devices)

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In the grim darkness of the far future there is only war. Beset on all side by multitudes of malefic enemies, Mankind tethers on the brink of destruction. Only the guiding light of the immortal God-Emperor, and the selfless sacrifices made in his name, keeps the horrors of the final night at bay. You are Marcus Aurelian, prodigal Interrogator of the Holy Orders of the Inquisition. Your master wields the absolute and inviolable authority of an Inquisitor. You are his sworn servant and trusted confidante. Recruited for your skills as an investigator and prowess as a warrior, it is your fate to stand on the front lines of a great and secret war. It is a conflict that has raged unabated for more than ten thousand years, beginning when Warmaster Horus raised his banners in rebellion against his Father and Emperor. It is your solemn duty is to root out the foul stench of heresy, hunt down the vile alien, and expunge the twisted influence of Chaos. You will tread where others fear go: You will venture to distant worlds filled with xenos abominations, you will walk through ancient space hulks best left undisturbed, and you will savour both the cruel depths of the under-hive and the wicked world of the high-born in their spire-top mansions. You will face enemies that would steal the courage from lesser men, you will see things that will scar your mind and soul forever, and you will come to face you own dark desires. You will never know fame nor reward, yet if you stand resolute, you will die knowing that you did so serving a higher purpose, and that your name and deeds will be carried to Holy Terra in darkness and silence, there to be whispered to the God-Emperor himself, who will know and remember for all eternity...

Teaser from the book (this is from one of the most 'Only War-esque' parts of the novel):

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I got bored waiting in the stairwell. Lasar looked like he wasn’t going anywhere, so I slipped up the stairs and up to the roof. The new sniper didn’t look very pleased, but Jons waved me over and I slipped down next to him.

“I remember hearing Sarge tell you to stay with Lasar in the stairwell,” he whispered.

“New orders,” I said.

Jons just chuckled.

More men had gathered in the ruins around out location, close to two hundred, according to Jons. He figured it had to represent the bulk of the fighting men available to the Kiones. I think he was a bit surprised by the large turnout. I had heard him and Sarge discussing enemy numbers earlier, and Sarge believed the Kiones couldn’t have more than a hundred men under their banner.

Gathering together like this would be a very bad course of action for insurgents. It was by avoiding stand-up fights with the IG they had been able to grow. They usually operated in small groups, struck from hiding, and then faded away. They engaged in sniping and used improvised explosives to make movement difficult for the Guard.

But this wasn’t a normal situation. We had – again – taken a long good piss at whatever authority Preacher Maxentius had managed to build up, both with his own men and with the locals. If he didn’t act quickly and decisively, neither his men nor anyone else, would ever take him seriously.

Jons eventually chased me off the roof. I wandered down the stairs again. I checked on Lasar, but he’d fallen asleep. I went to check on Mazzo’s team. They weren’t doing much except waiting. None of them wanted me around, so I went back up to the fourth floor to see what Roverto was up to.

Rat and Owan had persuaded Roverto to make some improvised barricades to protect their flanks and rear. Both men seemed convinced the enemy would find an alternate route into the building and fall us in the back. Roverto didn’t share their concerns, but had agreed to put the other two at ease. They didn’t seem to mind my presence – Rat even called me ‘his little canary’ – so I curled up behind one of the barricades and fell asleep.

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They came at us right before dusk. Whatever passed for their officers must not have believed them to be sufficiently skilled to carry out a coordinated night-time strike. They compensated for the lack of darkness with a liberal dose of suppressive fire and home-made smoke bombs, plus a fully functional Chimera. I wondered where they’d scrounged it up from; it looked well maintained and still had its Imperial Guard markings intact.

The presence of an armoured vehicle was an added complication. The enemy infantry could advance in relative safety behind the Chimera’s heavily armoured body, while the vehicle’s multilas provided accurate covering fire. I knew from personal experience just how dangerous such a weapon could be. The one mounted on the Chimera was even more potent than the one Rovo lugged about. It had superior rate of fire and higher energy output. Plus it had an effectively unlimited ammo supply; it drew power from huge energy stacks that were, in turn, recharged by the Chimera’s powerful engine.

The vehicle got to about eighty meters from the main entrance before Mazzo managed to put a missile into it. The Chimera survived the hit – damnably resilient machines Chimeras are – and started peppering the upper stories with lasfire. Mazzo’s fireteam relocated to the other side of the building and he tried again. This time he went for the gun cupola rather than the main body. The missile struck true, and the gun fell silent. The Chimera continued to lumber forward, but at least we didn’t have to worry about the multi anymore.

I backed away from my observation post, scurried over to the stairwell, and went down to check on Lasar. He was awake, but seemed a little unfocused.

Down on the ground floor I could hear the first directional charges going off. There were sounds of automatic shotgun and autogun fire, interspersed with more irregular booms whenever Vincenzo fired his melta gun. Sarge had placed his charges well, and for a few confusing minutes the first enemy push was halted in the entrance hall.

Lasar looked at me encouragingly. “It’ll be all right kid. They are just where we want them.”

I could see he was in pain; his eyes were kind of hazy and his skin looked feverish. “I know,” I replied curtly.

I dug out his canteen for him and made him take a sip.

“Thanks, kid,” he said and handed back the canteen. “I’m just a little tired, is all.”

“**** tired,” I replied. “Soon those assholes will be coming up those stairs. We gonna need that pistol of yours.”

“I guess you’re right,” he began. He shook his head a bit to clear his mind, and then prodded around his trauma pouch for a while. “Go find Ivo, see if he has some more stimms. I’m all out,” he concluded.

I spun around and headed for Ivo’s position.

‘“Friendly,” I screamed at the top of my lungs, “coming through!”

None of the soldiers turned to look at me. They kept their eyes on the enemy and their hands on their guns. Now that the Chimaera’s gun had been taken out they were able to fire to good effect at targets in the streets below.

I skidded over to Ivo. “Lasar needs stimms,” I shouted.

“Right back pocket, green auto-syringes,” he shouted back at me, continuing to fire all the while.

I grabbed two and closed the pouch after me. I didn’t get more than two meters before something exploded inside and adjoining room. The force of the blast was considerable. I was thrown to the floor, and my ears began ringing like crazy.

When I got my breath back I twisted and looked around. Ivo was down, but like me he had been shield from the brunt of the blast by a low wall. Ribaldo wasn’t as fortunate. He lay there, motionless, covered in dust specked with red. Several of his limbs looked like they had acquired new joints. I was sure he was dead, until I heard him moan.

Mazzo appeared from somewhere. “Get the **** out!” he shouted at me. So I did. I got up and ran crouched for the stairwell. Behind me I could hear him shouting to the rest of the fireteam, for Ivo to help him drag Ribaldo and for Cresside to keep firing.

Having tested and breached our defences, the enemy launched several consecutive waves of attackers across the Esplanade and the Champs. They were fairly well organized and quick about it. There was no way we could hold so many of them back. Any attempt to fire at them was met by volumes of suppressive fire, including a multiple-launch missile system, the very one that had just screwed fireteam Mazzo.

I got back to Lasar. He lay there, slumped on the bench where I had left him. He was dead. I couldn’t figure out how he’d died. Maybe he had been hit by something? Maybe his injuries had been more severe than we had believed? I shrugged and put the stimms in my satchel.

While I was standing there, undecided, Mazzo and Ivo appeared, dragging Ribaldo after them. Cresside was not with them, and I realized her gun had fallen silent. That didn’t bode well for our female gunner.

“What happened,” Mazzo asked me, indicating Lasar’ body.

Ivo briefly checked Lasar for lifesigns, but found none.

“I dunno,” I said. “He was lying like that when I got back.”

Ivo bent down to examine Ribaldo.

“Too bad,” Mazzo replied, “we also lost the *****. Got her ugly face blown off by a sniper – I think Jons got him in return though. And Ribaldo here is looking none too good.”

“Actually,” Ivo interjected, “he’s not as badly wounded as I feared. He’s got a broken arm and two broken legs, but his vital signs are decent, so I think he’s voided serious internal injury.”

“Well, keep him sedated then,” Mazzo replied. “We’ll drag him upstairs. He can be evacuated from the roof – if we survive this.”

Ivo grabbed a blue syringe from his medicae kit and pressed it against Ribaldo’s neck. Then both men took hold of the unconscious soldier’s webbing and made ready to drag him up to the 4th floor.

“You wanna be useful kid?” Mazzo said while hunched over Ribaldo’s body.

I looked over at him and was immediately pinned by his gaze. “Sure,” I said, somewhat reluctantly.

“Then get your tiny little ass down to Sarge and tell him to get his big fat ass up to the fourth. You got that?” he asked for good measure.

I nodded, rechecked Jons’ sliver pistol, and ran down the stairs.

Now that the enemy had fully committed himself the rain began. Not an ordinary rain, but a rain of anti-personnel submunitions, scattered by cargo shells bursting overhead. Commissar Joaquin had sent Major Burness over to the 10th Laskin Artillery to coordinate. Now they were conducting a fire mission with their Basilisk batteries on our behalf, Jons acting as a spotter and Hash voxing in corrections.

Those of the enemy out on the Esplanade suffered horribly, but those on the Champs fared a little better, on account of having more cover relative to the trajectory of the incoming shells.

The survivors from both streets quickly crossed the remaining distance and got into the relative safety out the building. They joined the squads that were already struggling to get past Sarge and his explosives. It was impossible to say exactly how many were inside the building, but I guessed there might be somewhere between six and eight squads. Meaning it was now nine men and one boy against sixty or so enemies.

Plus the enemy had at least two squads providing covering fire on each side of the building. They packed a handful of heavy support autos, which were a lot more powerful than anything we had, except Rovo’s gun. The only saving grace was that the damned missile launcher had fallen silent. I was certain our snipers were responsible for that blessing.

Better odds than before, but still pretty badly stacked against us.

Sarge and Vincenzo had backed up to the first floor after the first firefight. Coming down from the third floor I caught them beating a hasty retreat up to the second floor.

Sarge was dusty and covered in soot, but otherwise looked fine. His weapon smelled strongly of burnt propellant. I vividly recalled the two insurgents I had seen torn to shreds the last time I had seen the weapon in action.

Vincenzo was covering the stairwell, but no enemies appeared. Suddenly there was movement, almost too fast for the eye to follow. Vincenzo shouted, “ripper drones!” then fired his melta gun in the wide dispersal mode.

A dozen or so thumb-sized drones were vaporized by the blast, but he hadn’t caught all of them. The rest of the swarm came racing for us. Vincenzo managed another shot before they were upon him, but a good handful avoided the blast and sliced into his body. He didn’t so much scream as gurgle.

Sarge shoved me out of the way and towards the stairs. As I scrambled to get away from the razor-sharp drones, he stood there, calm as a rock, swatting the few remaining drones with his shotgun as they tried to chew him up. Sarge got some superficial cuts, and his shotgun came away with two drones bored into the stock, but he didn’t look seriously injured.

We hauled ass up to the fourth floor. Mazzo and Ivo had come through already, on their way to the roof with Ribaldo. Sarge lobbed his last charge – held in reserve for just such an occasion – down the stairwell. There was a loud satisfying bang, followed by even more satisfying screams of pain.

Rovo’s team – all of them were still alive at this point – joined us in the stairwell, and we made a fighting withdrawal up to the fifth floor. Guardsman First Class Roverto deftly used the gun-mount’s servo-arm and suspensors to full effect, covering us every step of the way without slowing us down noticeably. The enemy seemed extremely reluctant to come after us as long as the lascannon had power remaining.

But all clips eventually run dry, and Rovo was forced to discard his main weapon and rely on his hand cannon. A useful self-defence weapon to be sure, but nothing like the multi in terms of firepower. Mazzo and Ivo returned from their trip to the roof, tipping the power balance in our favour. The enemy renewed their assault, but we held them off.

There was a lull in the fighting. Rat and Owan were convinced the enemy was working their way around our position. It seemed a reasonable assumption, so Mazzo ordered the two men to watch the flanks.

Lo and behold – no pun intended – the insurgents made a three-pronged attack on our position, from the stairwell and from our own floor. They had indeed found an alternate route up. Owan fell back to join the rest of us, but Rat was cut off by the enemy.

We had no choice. We had to retreat once more, up to the sixth and final floor. On the way up I shot a particularly eager fellow who tried to throw as sticky-grenade after us. The sliver pistol wasn’t quite as powerful as my late autopistol, but it was exceptionally accurate. I purposefully shot him in the arm, foiling his throw. The sticky went off at the poor fellow’s feet. He screamed for a while, until blood loss from his missing legs silenced him. To me his screams felt soothing.

Jons joined us shortly thereafter. There was nothing for him to do on the roof. His sniper buddy was up there, manning the vox and keeping an eye on Ribaldo. Together the rest of us would hold the sixth floor until the enemy gave up, or we were all dead.

Below us we could hear the insurgents gathering strength for a final push. When the offensive came it was short lived. Mazzo launched his second-to-last grenade down the stairwell – the last being the traditional starshell – and to our relief it turned out to be a real plasma grenade, rather than the prophesized confetti.

It filled the entire area with hellish fire. Those that didn’t die suffered horrible burn wounds or were set on fire. Some of them screamed for a long time. The sounds were sweet in my ears.

My penchant for the screams of the wounded and dying aside: A great cacophony of wind and dust followed in the wake of all this screaming. The Valkyries were here. With heavy bolters pouring out a steady stream of fire to keep any insurgents from popping shots at them, they deposited their precious cargo of Guardsmen on the rooftop before peeling off. Now the remaining insurgents, probably no more than thirty or forty of them, faced twice that number of heavily armed, veteran Guardsmen. The balance of power had shifted entirely in our favour.

The insurgents providing cover from hiding places in the surrounding cityscape fared no better. Heavily armoured Chimeras, bristling with guns and loaded with the remaining men of the 57 ^th Lo, came racing in to close the trap.

I was told the enemy put up an unusually spirited, almost fanatical, fight. Only when faced with two promethium-spitting Chimera variants they had finally lost heart, tried to flee, and run right into the men of November and Lima companies, who had been deployed to counter just such an eventuality. And, like I said, you can’t dodge or outrun lasfire.

The insurgents trapped inside the building with us proved equally resilient. They put up a very spirited, if a little unpolished fight, keeping it going until they ran out of space and ammunition. We only got six of them alive, including their leader, the preacher I had so vividly seen directing the abuse of my mother.

We had learned the name of our enemy a few weeks prior: Preacher Maxentius. What little intelligence the 57th had on him indicated he had wandered in from the wilds one day, and immediately set about organizing a resistance movement in Thira.

My squadmates and I did not participate in the final clean-up. I guess you could say that we were generally just worn out and beat up. Rovo was out of ammo, but uninjured. Sarge had taken a nasty shrapnel wound to the scalp – his mates helpfully pointed out it could have been avoided by wearing a helmet – plus he had lots of cuts and bruises. Mazzo had been hit several times. He wasn’t seriously injured, but not exactly fit for another running battle. Ivo was pretty much in one piece, but busy vomiting his guts out. It was his way of coping with the downer that follows an adrenaline high.

Ribaldo was doing good, all things considered. He got airlifted out once the enemy had been neutralized. Jons, Owan, and the other sniper weren’t injured at all, and all three of them looked surprisingly fit, all things considered. The medics recovered the bodies of Vincenzo, Cresside, and poor Lasar. The big surprise was Rat; he was found all the way down on the second floor, severely injured, but still alive. For my own part I was uninjured. I had a few scrapes, but that was all. I was also feeling the aftereffects of too much adrenalin; it made me shake like a leaf, but I didn’t puke.

When we got down to the ground the Commissar was there, in his tall black cap and black flak stormcoat. He ordered five of the insurgents flayed on the spot. When the screaming died down, they were hung from light posts in the streets outside as a reminder to other potential insurgents: This is what happens to those that raise arms against the Imperium. Arrayed so they looked eerily similar to Mother.

Commissar Joaquin looked down at me, then over at the preacher who was being held down by two IGs. “This is the man responsible for your mother’s torture and subsequent death. He is also a rebel and a traitor to the God-Emperor of Mankind. There can only be one punishment for that. You may carry out the sentence.”

And with that he pulled out his bolt pistol, removed the magazine, leaving only a single shell in the launch chamber, and handed me the weapon.

I looked at the gun. I looked at the Commissar. He looked right back at me. I realized with a start that he knew. He knew I blamed him. He knew I had vengeance in my heart. That’s why he gave me a pistol with a single shot. Take your shot boy, his eyes were saying, make it count. Do it now, or forever keep your peace.

I looked at Jons. Then I looked at the preacher. He had long since stopped screaming obscenities about the false, Corpse-God Emperor; the IGs had simply smashed his head into the ground until he shut up. I looked at the red ruin that was the man’s face. I looked into his eyes, returning hate for hate. I looked at the gun again; I’d scraped up my arm again and red droplets were oozing down my fingers, smearing Joaquin’s immaculately polished weapon.

I whipped the gun up and around, and shot the preacher squarely between the eyes. The distance was only five paces, but it was still a nice shot. His head exploded like an overripe fruit in a spray of brains, bone, blood, and gore.

The Commissar retrieved his bolt pistol. The preacher’s headless corpse was strung up with the rest of the insurgents. “Another fine victory for the Emperor, another laurel for the 57th. Gather up, were moving out in fifteen minutes.”

Jons had a few words with Commissar Joaquin, then came over and took me aside. “We’re returning to the compound now. Your mother is dead and I’m sorry for that, but she has a grave, and vengeance has well and truly been served. Go to your sister and wait for me there. My offer still stands; the Commissar has given the go.”

I tried to speak, but I couldn’t find the words, so I just nodded. I could still feel that bolt pistol in my hand. The weight of it. The kick when the bolt fired. The majestic effect in the target. There are weapons far more advanced and deadly, but there is something about the bolter that appeals to me. I’ve always strived hard never to be without at least one bolt pistol – preferably two.

“Now get going, you don’t want to be hanging around here. Keep the sliver for protection. I can have it back when we move.”

I considered giving Jons a hug, just to seal the deal so to speak. But I’ve never been good at hugging, so I dropped the idea. Maybe it would also be too much, too soon. So instead I turned and started walking towards home.

That the Commissar suspected my true feelings was troubling, but I had obviously weathered that one. I needed to be more careful in the future. I clearly wasn’t as good an actor as I had believed.

But what really gnawed was the fact that I hadn’t seen Jax among the dead. The Kiones insurgents had been wiped out, but there was no sign of my brother. Some of the corpses had been too badly damaged or burnt to be recognizable, but still…I knew in my heart Jax was still alive. Had he not been trusted to take part in the attack? Or had he been present but somehow survived? I suspected the latter was the case. Abaddon be damned!

Now also available on wattpad.com (much easier to read on mobile devices than the usual .pdf format).

Read it!

I'm yet to finish it, as I only started a little earlier tonight, but it seems very good. Great work!

I'm yet to finish it, as I only started a little earlier tonight, but it seems very good. Great work!

Thanks!

Keep reading, it only gets better

I finished it yesterday, and I quite like it. I'm intrigued, although there were a few places (I'll have to find them again) where it did feel a bit longish.

I like the framing and storytelling style, though.

I finished it yesterday, and I quite like it. I'm intrigued, although there were a few places (I'll have to find them again) where it did feel a bit longish.

I like the framing and storytelling style, though.

Thanks, glad you liked it!

I suppose it can feel a bit longish. Especially the first part. If I had the time/energy for a third revision, it would have been spent tightening up things, cutting down on non-essential passages and generally making the story flow quicker and better. Long is not always better. Unfortunately cutting/compressing is much more difficult than adding more

For book 2 I'll definitely try to keep this in mind.

Personally, I like the length. It adds a sense of detail and it's not like i've got anywhere to be today. Haxtes the gatekeeper is the only bit that's a bit long but since I haven't finished that section, I'm assuming it comes to be important later on.

Personally, I like the length. It adds a sense of detail and it's not like i've got anywhere to be today. Haxtes the gatekeeper is the only bit that's a bit long but since I haven't finished that section, I'm assuming it comes to be important later on.

Good to know! I wasn't talking about cutting away anything important, just tidying a bit

Haxtes the gatekeeper is VERY important to the story...

I've decided to make some short story collections based upon the Dark Omega interludes. Essentially I'm recycling the interludes, but adding some new pieces to make a chronological collection that fits together.

The first chapters of the first collection is already out:

Battle Angels of the Imperium , Featuring Librarian Kaminsky and Sister Salt. For now the only really new part is Sister-Palatine , but more will be added.

Next will be the Chaos version, which focuses on the Preacher and his travails.

I also have one collection featuring Rogue Trader Corben and his ship, the Maiden of Golgenna, but it will be a while until it's ready for publishing.

For now the short story collections are only available on wattpad.com

I just finished it, and I really enjoyed it. Better than most Black Library stories, especially considering I'm sure I heard somewhere that English isn't your first language. (Even more impressive if true.). I really like Haxtes, and look forward to the next book. Keep at it!

I just finished it, and I really enjoyed it. Better than most Black Library stories, especially considering I'm sure I heard somewhere that English isn't your first language. (Even more impressive if true.). I really like Haxtes, and look forward to the next book. Keep at it!

Glad you liked it so much, and took the time to let me know - makes writing all the more worthwhile!

Haxtes is a nice character...qell, let's be honest, he's pretty far from nice! Let's call him interesting instead

(I'm from someplace called 'Norway', where people speak a weird language called 'Norwegian', which sort of sucks if you want to have an audience - which is why I write in English)

I just finished it, and I really enjoyed it. Better than most Black Library stories, especially considering I'm sure I heard somewhere that English isn't your first language. (Even more impressive if true.). I really like Haxtes, and look forward to the next book. Keep at it!

Glad you liked it so much, and took the time to let me know - makes writing all the more worthwhile!

Haxtes is a nice character...qell, let's be honest, he's pretty far from nice! Let's call him interesting instead

(I'm from someplace called 'Norway', where people speak a weird language called 'Norwegian', which sort of sucks if you want to have an audience - which is why I write in English)

Makes sense. Also, Haxtes isn't that nasty overall. Just enjoys messing with peoples heads alot.

Makes sense. Also, Haxtes isn't that nasty overall. Just enjoys messing with peoples heads alot.

That is very true!

Great book, I'm impressed! I dabble in a bit of writing and I love reading, but this is... words cannot express how much I like this book! I like the foreward. Which is really good because I also rate books from the forward. Sigh, reminds me of the good old days. I recommend this book to others. A great read!

In fact I'm so inspired I think I will write a book of my own!

Great book, I'm impressed! I dabble in a bit of writing and I love reading, but this is... words cannot express how much I like this book! I like the foreward. Which is really good because I also rate books from the forward. Sigh, reminds me of the good old days. I recommend this book to others. A great read!

In fact I'm so inspired I think I will write a book of my own!

Thanks for the kind words

Long story made short:

I'm doing a revised edition of Dark Omega, using a more traditional storytelling technique (no 2nd person POV for example). I kind of liked how my experiemntal use of techniques turned out, but overall the feedback was negative.

The plot is largely the same, but there are numerous additions, alterations, etc. Overall a more gripping story, with several more interesting characters and secens added.

Currently this is WIP and only found here: http://www.wattpad.com/story/32263185-dark-omega-revised-ed

Could be I post it to https://www.fanfiction.net/ as well, time permitting.

Once I have the revised ed done it will go up on my blog as a pdf download, but that is some time into the future.