>>12754527
That's not the worst of it, though. They don't tell you this in the action films, but it takes a good ten minutes of flight - or should I say fall? - to reach the ground from orbit. But you're not actually in free-fall, no. See, people on the ground usually know you're coming. They're generally trying their damnedest to kill you before you land. So the drop pod is built with that in mind. It's got thrusters built into the hull all over it, not just the braking jets at the wide end. It homes in on the preset landing location, but it maneuvers randomly within a certain range of flight paths. The effect of this, as you're coming down...

Well, I get ahead of myself. The thing is, as you come in through the upper atmosphere, your pod is wreathed in a halo of plasma fire. On the plus side, this makes it hard for anyone to get a solid radar lock on you. On the downside, the walls of the capsule are not that thick, and if the smallest tendril of flame manages to force itself in, the pod will instantly be filled with the fury of a star. You'll be burnt to a crisp. Plus, anyone with a good thermal tracker knows exactly where you are. But never mind that.

Down in the lower atmosphere, as the braking jets fire and the plasma flame dissipates, the gunners on the ground can get a solid radar lock. So the pod starts doing its crazy dance, dumping out chaff and thermal decoys, probably dodging tons of incoming ordnance. The shaking of reentry is nothing compared to this - you're rattled around so hard, you can't even think. And no Marine I know has ever been afraid to admit he wept, sobbed or screamed the first few times his squad came in loud and hard. It doesn't get any less frightening over time. You just learn to bite your tongue.

>>12754538
Why's this so terrible? Look, if you were flying an air-capable spacecraft down from orbit, that would be terrifying enough. But in a drop pod, it's all out of your control. You can't do a damned thing. You can only trust in your machine and in Grandfather's blessing. We don't have any training for it except meditation, and that's just another way of distracting yourself from the horrors of the world around you.

Look, I've fought against hordes of aliens. I've stalked the streets of burning cities while traitor snipers stalked the rooftops. I've even fought a god and lived to tell the tale. But there's nothing for giving this man a longing for home like a ride in a drop pod, and that's Grandfather's truth.

as usual plz feedback

I like it, for what that's worth.

That was actually not a bad read.

Very nice.

Got any more?

Since no one else seems to be paying attention, I'm archiving this.

Good stuff.

Makes me wonder how a guy in a Dread feels.

'twas cool.

adds personality.

keep it up.

OP is quoting starship troopers. Nothing original here. (Troll thread?)

Though I highly recommend the book. He (Rico) does talk at length about drop pods, their training, and what happens scant moments from embarkation.

>>12757992
OP is observing that Space Marine tactics in 40k are derived in large part from Starship Troopers...

>>12756494
You are the worst sort of faggot, and the reason sup/tg/ is turning into a pile of steaming shit. OP was barely modifying Starship Troopers, but your uneducated mind figured it was the most glorious original content around. Not only that, you archived a thread of FIVE fucking posts. I hope you're proud of yourself, dickweed.

>Grandfather's blessing

I didn't know Chaos marines used drop pods, I figured they just popped in out of the warp.

That said, you're a filthy heretic.

>>12757992
Watch your goddamned spacing. If they nuked you now, you'd both be dead. Godammit, don't they teach this shit in basic anymore.

>>12756540
He doesn't feel. He is entombed in a tank of preservative fluid, his body barely alive enough to keep his mind functioning. His nervous system is hard-wired into the adamantine and ceramite shell the techpriests built around him. Of course, he can sense when his power-claws are touching something, his visual scanners will register the reflections of light and feed them to his brain in place of sight. The cogitators in his sarcophagus can direct his attention to sounds that would be missed by you or I. Sensors might isolate and identify scents in the air, but he will never smell them. At best, the knowledge that trace amounts of chlorine are wafting in the breeze will summon the memory of a smell.

No, he feels nothing. Nothing that is real. Except perhaps regret.

>>12758832
>regret

You mean regret at falling in battle, and rapturous joy at the chance of fighting the Emperor's enemies again as a mighty dreadnought?

>>12758660
I think he means the Emperor.

"Father" would be the primarch, "Grandfather" would be, well, ol' Imperator Humanium himself.

> enestan irrigation

>>12756540
>>12758832
>>12758944
The brain attached to the shattered body contained in the sarcophagus is still working more or less normally. Otherwise, the Dreadnought would be... decommissioned in some way.

Remember, Dreadnoughts are usually kept in stasis-sleep except when their advice is required in council, for combat, or for certain ceremonial occasions (in which Dreadnoughts are often honored). A Dreadnought living like this has moments of confusion and disorientation before things are brought sharply into focus by the matter at hand.

A Dreadnought without the ability to go into stasis-sleep is a very different kind of person, though. Because of the limitations of his new body, and because of the lack of stimulation and food for thought required by a functioning human brain, such a Dreadnought will slowly succumb to a deep depression. Eventually this can turn into a fugue state in which the Dreadnought cannot be roused to do anything, even to participate in the technical rites of its own maintenance. It will die.

So in Marine facilities that lack stasis pods that can accommodate Dreadnoughts, the staff must find a way to keep visiting or resident Dreadnoughts from getting too bored. Whether that means running a data feed over from the station library or hooking the Dreadnought up to a servitor body to allow him to play card games with other soldiers, they have to do something.