"The Cost of Knowledge" - Boarding Actions Game - Narrative

Welcome back to The Art of Caesura!

A month or so ago, two friends and I played our very first game of Boarding Actions. As you know, I have been very excited about this game mode, it emphasizes all the things I love about Warhammer 40k: smaller scale, troop-heavy forces, strategic play, and it is dripping in atmosphere!

We used one of the multiplayer missions from the Boarding Actions tome, a free-for-all between my Black Templars vs. Tyranids vs. my friend's currently unnamed Space Marine Chapter (which I have created a place-holder name for for the purposes of this story). 

As I have done a few times in the past, I have had a blast writing a short story inspired by our game. Please enjoy!

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The Cost of Knowledge

The void-ship His Eternal Vigil drifted through the cold abyss, a shattered hulk of its former self. An ancient relic of the Dark Age of Technology, it had re-emerged from the warp with its hull cracked, engines dead, and augur arrays flickering like a dying candle. But the rumors of a complete Standard Template Construct had already spread like wildfire through the Imperium.
Three forces converged upon it.

The Black Templars, led by Emperor's Champion Rodrik, had come to purge the xenos and ensure no heretical knowledge fell into unworthy hands. The Cobalt Wardens, a newly formed Primaris Chapter decreed by Guilliman himself, sought the STC to further the Imperium’s technological might. And then there were the Tyranids, a tendril of Hive Fleet Leviathan, drawn to the vessel like vultures to carrion.

The boarding action was swift and merciless. The Black Templars stormed the corridors first, chainswords roaring as they carved through the first waves of Tyranid horrors infesting the ship. Pyre pistols incinerated scuttling Termagants, while Sword Brethren cut down leaping Hormagaunts with disciplined fury. The ship was a maze of flickering lumen-strips and rusted bulkheads, but the Templars advanced with zealous determination.

Deep within the hulk, the Cobalt Wardens fought their own war. Their Lieutenant, Solan Varrus, had been tasked with securing the STC at all costs. The Wardens moved with precision, bolt rifles methodically reaping a toll on anything in their path. They encountered the STC’s data core, buried within a shattered cogitator array. The moment they began interfacing with it, the Tyranids struck again.

A shrieking Winged Prime, The Terror of Vardenghast, burst from the shadows, its talons scything through power armor as it butchered its way into the Wardens’ ranks. Blade-armed Genestealers followed, moving like ghosts through the rusted wreckage, tearing into Primaris Marines with unnatural speed.

And then, the Black Templars arrived.

Rodrik led the charge, his Black Sword severing the limb of a lunging Genestealer as he smashed into the xenos swarm. The Templars fought with righteous fury, slaughtering Tyranids in a storm of blade and bolt. But the Cobalt Wardens did not welcome their arrival.

"This knowledge belongs to the Imperium!" Lieutenant Varrus bellowed, his armor drenched in ichor. "Stand down, Rodrik! Guilliman decreed this mission!"
Rodrik’s eyes burned with righteous scorn. "The High Marshal decrees the destruction of the unclean. Your folly in seeking forbidden relics has led these abominations here! The STC must be destroyed!"

Before Varrus could respond, The Terror of Vardenghast struck again, tearing through the last of the Wardens who were interfacing with the cogitators. The STC console flickered as the xenos’ presence corrupted the machine-spirit, bioelectric pulses crawling along the walls. A choice had to be made.

Rodrik made it.

With a grim nod, he signaled his Sword Brethren. The Templars unleashed meltabombs, the explosions consuming the STC and all knowledge it contained. The Cobalt Wardens roared in fury, their mission undone in an instant. But the Black Templars had no time for regret.

The xenos tide surged forward again. Templars and Wardens alike turned their bolters upon the advancing horrors, their battle-brothers now the only thing standing between them and annihilation. They fought as warriors of the Emperor should—side by side, not as enemies, but as brothers united against the Great Devourer.

When the last of them finally withdrew, leaving His Eternal Vigil to burn in the void, only silence remained. The STC was gone. The Tyranids were vanquished. But the bitter divide between the Black Templars and the Cobalt Wardens would not be so easily erased.

Some knowledge comes at too great a cost. 

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I hope you enjoyed that narrative about our free-for-all Boarding Actions game. Tune in next week for more of a gameplay look at our game. 

See you next Friday on The Art of Caesura!

Watching: The Day of the Jackal - last episode...eek!

Next Week:

The corridors of battle...