Angry Armourer (WH40K)

Jarion had it pretty good for a techpriest on the front lines. The guardsmen kept their weapons and vehicles in as good a condition as they could. Even the Krieg Death Korps regiment that was assigned to fight here weren’t as suicidal as their reputation states. Because of the lack of need for mechanics, Jarion was the only techpriest on the front, but other than having only flesh-bound normalfags for company, life was good. However, this is the 41st millennium, and if “good times” can exist in the first place they sure as fuck don’t last long.
Jarion’s many mechanical appendages ran along the lasgun, fine-tuning and repairing the small nicks of damage on its casing. He promptly passed the rifle back to its owner and sent him on his way. next on the schedule is checking out some Ork weapons that the guardsmen had picked up. After a few minutes of convincing the guardsmens’ commissar that the Ork weaponry could be of some value and should not be destroyed immediately for its heretical xenos origins Jarion got to work. As Jarion began inspecting the pile of weaponry he saw a suit of what seems to be the Ork equivalent of power armour, though it was more like a dreadknight. He clambered inside the machine, ignoring the splattered Ork all over the interior. His extra mechanical arms examined the more retarded interfaces to figure out their purposes. After a short prayer to Omnissiah, he grabbed hold of the controls with all six of his arms and turned what he thought was the ignition.
The bright red mech got to its feet, much to the shock of the commissar, who almost BLAMMED the thing before Jarion found the loudspeaker just in time to calm down the trigger-happy officer. The commissar, now miffed that the techpriest would not only stop him from destroying the Ork tech but would dare to operate the stuff, threw up his arms in defeat and stormed off, leaving the smartass cogboy to his own devices.
Jarion made the machine do push-ups, some light boxing with a tree and a few other strength-gauging exercises and arrived at the conclusion that this mech was about as powerful as an Astartes scout. Now this wasn’t particularly great when compared to full-fledged space marine, but the fact that it could be piloted by a single human had massive potential for the Adeptus Militarum. If Jarion could build a more Emperor-approved version of this and got it back to Mars… the remaining organic parts of Jarion’s stomach got butterflies just thinking about the rewards that would inevitably flow his way, after he staved off the equally inevitable accusations of tech-heresy. he excitedly jumped out of the mech and rushed back to his workstation to get his dataslate to record this wonderful machine. On his way back, he noticed a fiery object hurtling from the sky, heading straight for the Ork tech stockpile.
“NO!” cried the techpriest, his panic levels going from -50 to 10,000 in that one second.
The poor cogboy tried to rush to the stockpile, but the object made planetfall before he could save the precious mech suit. He fell to his knees, the future that was so close, his very own forge, perhaps even forgeworld, all gone. A profound disappointment gripped his heart, which quickly transformed to white-hot rage. He whirled to face the crash site, vowing on his lost future and the Omnissiah that he would turn the culprits into boot-washing servitors. Through the dust cloud, his mechanical eye could make out a bright yellow and red Astartes drop pod. Two figures burst out of the pod.
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU AIMING AT, YOU CUM-GUZZLING JIZZ STAIN, YOU MISSED THE ORKS BY A FUCKING CONTINENT” Shouts one of the space marines.
The Astartes’ power armour was yellow and red, adorned with big red symbol that resembled an angry face and multiple crude doodles clearly done in permanent marker. The two space marines began a screaming match, using some swear words that Jarion had never even heard of. A group of guardsmen had gathered between Jarion and the mech-busting marines. Jarion simply picked them up, six at a time and threw them out of the way until he stood face to face with the marines. Not really face to face, they towered a good half metre over him, but this did nothing to faze the fuming Jarion.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT, TOASTERFUCKER?” screamed the marine
Jarion answered by punching the marine, right in his Groin, as hard as he possibly could, so hard in fact that his arm actually collapsed. He didn’t even flinch.
“YOU FUCKING RETARDS JUST BROKE MY ONE TICKET OUT OF THIS SHITHOLE OF AN ARMY” Jarion screeched at his vocal cords’ maximum capacity, assaulting the marine with his five remaining appendages.
Completely unfazed by the raging techpriest’s attacks, the marine simply laughed.
“I LIKE YOU, YOU LITTLE TOASTER-SCREWER, WELCOME TO THE FUCKING ANGRY MARINES” he shouted
Even though the words were positive, the volume and tone of his voice still made it seem that he was on the verge of bursting a blood vessel.
“what?” said the Angry Marine, picking up Jarion under one arm and running at a thunderhawk that was dropping out of the sky at a worrying angle.
“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU TAKING ME YOU GIGANTIC FAGGOT” screamed Jarion as he attempted to loosen everything he could on his kidnapper’s power armour.
“YOU’RE GONNA WORK FOR ME NOW, THE NAME’S QUARTERMASTER FUCKSHITTER, WELCOME TO THE CHAPTER” shouted Fuckshitter as they entered the thunderhawk.
Within an hour Jarion was in the angry marine battle barge ‘IDON’TKNOWYOUNAMETHEFUCKINGTHING’ and was introduced to the armoury where he would be working, and to three other techpriests who Jarion suspected were “recruited” in a similar fashion to him. His grand tour of the armoury consisted of Fuckshitter jabbing his gigantic finger at various pieces of equipment and different workstations and screaming their purpose at the top of the audible spectrum.
“AND THAT BENCH IS WHERE WE PUT THE FUCKED-UP BATS AND WRENCHES TO GET FIXED”
After the brief induction, Fuckshitter announced that its time for he and his battle-brothers to watch some “FUCKING QUALITY CARTOONS” the three other techpriests moved off of the floor panel they had been standing on the entire time and set about prying said panel off of its position, revealing a tunnel in the mass of pipes and wires.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” shouted Jarion
The three techpriests turn towards Jarion.
“s-sorry, man, the shuttle we built only has space for three and we can’t cope with a single extra day on this fucking ship” apologised the most augmented of the three, a priest with a mere two mechanical arms on his back.
The two other techpriests began their journey through the crawlspace. Jarion screeched in binary and raced at the deserting cogboys.
“DON’T YOU FAGGOTS DARE LEAVE ME HERE”
 However, Jarion tripped on something halfway through his charge.
“I’m sorry man, Omnissiah have mercy on me” the retreating techpriest muttered partly to Jarion, partly to himself. Jarion’s delay allowed the priests to escape and replace the floor panel, disappearing from sight and soon enough, from the battle barge.
“FUCK” screamed Jarion, as he got back to his feet, remembering painfully that one of his arms was broken.
With nothing better to do, Jarion surveyed the equipment that he had been provided with. It was to put it lightly, unsatisfactory, the tools were all very worn and on the verge of breaking, spare parts were few and outdated and most importantly the “FUCKED UP BATS” table was stacked with broken weapons. Growling to himself, Jarion got to work fixing his arm.
After about two hours of extremely painful and possibly heretical modifications to his appendage, it was functional enough to begin working on the broken weapons. He fished a relatively intact bolter from the pile and carried it over to the workbench. He carefully laid the bolter down on the bench and searched around for some holy incense to burn so the bolter’s machine spirit would let him fix it. He finally found some in a bag he suspected belonged to one of his treacherous brothers. He picked up the sticks and lit it with a multitool in his third right hand. The familiar scent of the holy incense washed over Jarion, calming his mind a little. It did very little to help his raging inferno of anger that he had acquired over the past day, but it was something. As he turned back to the bench to see someone sitting on it.
Had the techpriests come back? No the person before him was definitely not one of the priests, her augmentations were far too tame and she had considerably larger breasts than any member of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
“Hello there!” greeted the woman
“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU” shouted Jarion, the only thing he hated more than being kidnapped is being snuck up on.
The woman seemed a bit uneasy at the show of aggression. She hesitated and shifted uncomfortably for a second, a second Jarion used to get a good look at the intruder. She had Steel-grey hair, red eyes and was wearing what seems to be power armour crossed with. There was a large bandage covering her abdomen and a few small ones on her arms and knee.
“I’m the bolter” she said, getting more uncomfortable by the second under Jarion’s intense glare
“BULLSHIT, THAT’S FUCKING HERESY RIGHT THERE”
At the accusation of heresy, the woman attempted to get up from the table. Jarion did not let the potential heretic and confirmed sneaker-upper get very far. His four extra arms grabbed her arms and legs and pinned her to the bench.
“YOU’VE GOT ONE CHANCE TO TELL ME WHO YOU ARE OR…” he wasn’t too sure what he was going to do, but I was going to be bad.
“I-I’m telling you! I AM the bolter” she yelped.
If Jarion had enough face left to turn red, it would have, he looked desperately around the room for something to make her talk, anything, he didn’t give a fuck.
His eyes came to rest on the woman’s armour. He used his two free arms to make quick work of the suit’s bolts and pulled off the suit’s main plates. The woman yelped again as her squishy flesh body was exposed to the outside world. Jarion did not let himself get distracted by her breasts, barely contained in by an ill-fitting bra. The woman flinched He placed a cold steel hand on her stomach.
“YOU ARE GONNA TALK” he said, slowly inching his hand downwards.
The woman stared in abject horror as Jarion’s hand slid ever closer to her grey panties.
“Nooooo!” she squealed
“TOO LATE BITCH”
In the next second multiple things happened at once, Jarion slipped his hand under the womans panties, the woman disappeared and Fuckshitter kicked in the door to the armoury. Because of this unique combination of events Fuckshitter managed to walk in on Jarion aggressively fingering the trigger guard of a stripped-down bolter.
Jarion saw Fuckshitter. Fuckshitter saw Jarion. They stood frozen for a moment, staring in shock at each other. Even under his helmet, Jarion could tell that Fuckshitter was beaming at this scene. He quickly disappeared back through the door, slamming it so hard that it nearly came off its hinges. Even through the thick steel door Jarion could hear him scream.
“HEY FAGCRUNCHER, YOU OWE ME! THEY DO!”
A second set of marine feet thundered down the hallway
“BULLSHIT, YOU’RE JUST RIPPING ME OFF”
A few punches were thrown, and more screaming ensued before Fagcruncher’s head ploughed through the wall. Jarion, still trying to process the embarrassment, had not moved. He slowly turned to face Fagcruncher. Fagcruncher studied the scene in front of him.
“WHATS UP BOLTERFUCKER” the marine burst out laughing until his face was subjected to a hail of mechanical parts and tools.
The marine pulled his head out of the wall.
“WE GOTTA GO COLLECT THE OTHERS’ BETS”
The two marines thunder down the hallway, screaming about AdMechs and their machine-related fetishes.
Jarion tossed the bolter at the workbench. He slumped onto a nearby chair and glared at the ceiling, wondering how or if he was ever going to live this down.
“YOU PERVERT” shouts the Bolter-woman, swinging a piece of her own armour at Jarion.
The breastplate catches Jarion in the face, leaving a nice dent in the techpriest’s steel visage. The bolter-woman’s red eyes glow with rage, as one would expect of an Angry Marine’s weapon.
“NOW DO YOU BELIEVE ME?”
“Yes” muttered Jarion.
A few more slams with the breastplate ensured the techpriest would remember this lesson.
“Now, you’re going to put me back together properly, and seeing as your dumb ass disassembled me in my human form, you’re gonna need to reassemble me in human form”
Jarion grumbled something about “unnecessary force” and “you broke my fucking eye” and he set about picked up the scattered bits of armour. This proved slightly more difficult than usual because his lack of depth perception.
The woman hopped back onto the bench
“if you do anything else, I’ll get my marine to get down here and smash you to scrap metal” she states bluntly
“yes, I get it! by the emperor! What are you, some kind of demon weapon?”
“no, I’m a machine spirit, duh”
Accepting this as the least heretical answer (and not wanting to earn himself any more dents) Jarion got to work reattaching the armour plates to miss crazy machine spirit. After all the bits were reattached and were repaired up to her standards, she transformed into a bolter and was placed carefully on the “FIXED’ table.
One down, a gigantic fucking pile to go.
----NEW CONTENT----
Jarion decided it would be best to get a replacement for his busted eye. He stumbled out into the hall and looked around for a map or just general directions to the med-deck. Unfortunately, what these “Astartes” interpreted as maps are just poorly drawn male genitalia with rocket boosters attached. This only served to make Jarion even more enraged. He stormed down the hallway to the right, it was as better a direction as any after all. The dark, twisting hallways were surprisingly empty for a ship full of these moronic Astartes. He expected a whole lot more fighting and screaming from the Angry Marines. Jarion marched through numerous piles of broken servitors and a few minor gravity shifts that threw him into the roof. He began to hear cheering on booing up ahead. What in the Emperor’s name were they doing?
Jarion cautiously edged toward the source of noise. The cheering seemed to emanate from an open doorway just up ahead. Jarion quietly crept up on the door, sticking to the shadows and made himself as small a silhouette as possible. With his focus on the door, Jarion bumped into something. he recoiled in surprise. his organic eye struggled to see in the dimly lit hallway, he could just make out a human figure about a head and a half taller than him, though this wasn’t much to brag about as Jarion was not what one would call vertically gifted. Before Jarion could say anything, the figure clamped its hand over his mouth. Jarion saw the capital ‘I’ shape of an inquisitorial rosette briefly flash in the light streaming from the door.
“Shhhhhh!” hissed the Inquisitor “not a sound, or you’re dead, got it?”
Jarion quickly nodded and followed the Inquisitor as he poked his head around the door. The angry marines were watching an animated Tau Vidcast. The inquisitor mutters under his breath as he scribbles on a dataslate. Jarion just stared in confusion. The vidcast shows a group of tau soldiers in battlesuits facing a red and yellow Astartes drop pod. The pod opens, revealing an over-exaggerated darkness, pierced by two points of red light. Slowly a gigantic figure strode out of the darkness, clad in bright red and yellow armour. The angry marines went wild, shouts and cheers of “FUCK ‘EM UP” and “ALWAYS ANGRY!” filled the room. The Inquisitor looked confused and scribbled out some of his notes. The characters on the screen began their climatic battle, the lone angry marine wielding a power bat facing the group of Tau with battlesuits and a swarm of drones. The real angry marines were shouting and cheering like one would expect a child to do upon first being read the great deeds of the Primarchs, some were even fighting each other out of excitement for the Emperor’s sake! Jarion decided that they didn’t pay him enough to deal with this, or at all for that matter, so he wandered back off in search of whatever the Angry Marines qualify as a medical facility.
The inquisitor grabbed the back of his hood and angrily whispered “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’ve got more important things to do than watch these retards” Jarion whispered back
The Inquisitor fell silent for a moment, weighing up his options.
“fine, but if I hear an alarm, I will find you”
Jarion nodded and the inquisitor shoved him down the hallway before returning to spying on the Angry Marines. A disappointed bout of screaming erupted from the room.
“THAT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENED!”
“EMPRAH-DAMNED VAGINA-HEADED FISH SHOULD NOT MAKE CARTOONS!”
“THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP CAN’T BEAT ANGER!”
“ALWAYS ANGRY!”
Jarion simply quickened his pace.