It’s been one year since we started. One year of all of you reading the seventy-five reviews written in that time. Between joining Paranerds.com, branching out into other areas such as comics and refining reviews to be more focused upon the meat of whatever they are looking at; we’re come a long way.
To thank you all for following me in that time, and to sort of celebrate Warhammer 40K’s 6th edition, I’ve decided to choose something particularly entertaining to look at. A novel so infamous that the author has become a byword amongst many science fiction groups for utter tripe. Today ladies and gentlemen we will be looking into C.S. Goto’s Warrior Brood.
Now,
his other more infamous work on the Dawn of War novelisations could be considered
worse. It certainly ran for far longer and managed to find entirely new ways to
break the canon which if Matt Ward read he would have been furious he’d not
thought of them first. Warrior Brood however is where people started to realise
he had no idea what he was talking about and was the cause of his nickname
“C.S. multilaser”. This is a novel so bad that this review will not cover the
whole thing. Trying to comment upon every failure as it comes would likely make
this review longer than the novel itself. Instead we’re just going to look in
detail into the first chapter, and believe me it’s clear to see where things
start to unravel.
The
book opens up on the astartes of the Mantis Warriors chapter engaging a tyranid
swarm. There’s no listed reason to why they’re there, no comment upon their
motivations, no introduction, nothing to flesh out or give substance to the
conflict, it’s just BOOM! BUG
WAR!!!
The
Mantis Warriors themselves were one of the book’s biggest selling points: A chapter
with a dark history, dwindling in numbers and a successor of the White Scars;
something not often seen in 40K. They were a point of genuine interest, a good
focus to be fleshed out and a reason for many to pick up the book. To those
people: you have my sympathies.
It
quickly becomes clear that the author had little to no idea of what he was
writing about. While there are some details which were gotten right, there were
vast numbers which were either gotten hilariously wrong or acts of such
stupidity that I’m surprised none of the marines stopped and announced “you
have to be fething kidding me!”
Take
for example a few minor details like this: The battlefield is described as “nothing but arachnid forms, barbed scales, dripping
claws and the glint of sharp teeth.” With the Mantis Warriors themselves
being clad in “adamantite
armour”, their entire company loosing endless streams of hellfire rounds in
support from veteran Devastators who were “discharging volleys of laserfire from
their multilasers.”
To
save you a long winded rant: The author has given the marines en mass
specialist equipment, guns their armoury doesn’t stock, armour of a
non-existent material and made the world devouring alien horde a race of
spiders. Even though there is little to nothing the tyranids have which has
eight legs and on the same page winged gargoyles are mentioned flying around.
And all this is told with the same narrative skill which produced these lines: “Theirs were the last human feet on Herodian IV, and
theirs were barely human.” “[…] like glorious green and gold avenging angels.”
Within
five pages this is beginning to make Mass Effect: Deception look like genuinely good storytelling.
There are a total of twenty-nine pages in this first chapter.
The
biggest crime of Warrior Brood is its presentation of the space
marines. While the Mantis Warriors themselves aren’t using tactics they are
known for, prolonged attrition tactics through multiple guerrilla strikes, that
can be forgiven due to who they are facing. The tyranids would just overrun via
sheer numbers if they tried it. What can’t be forgiven is the fact these just
aren’t astartes. They also seem to have arrived on the battlefield drunk.
There’s no skill to their actions, no discipline to their attacks and no strategy.
One point specifically notes that the big creatures the tyranids are sending
are effectively shrugging off bolter shells, yet the Devastator squads armed
with tank killing weapons are blasting away at the fragile
flapping gargoyles. No, really, they are:
“Gargoyles fell from the sky, where lascannon
fire had ruined them or deformed into molten lumps were the squad’s
multi-meltas had cooked them.”
“The Mantis Warriors, captain ducked under the claws of a swooping beast, firing off a volley of bolts into the advancing ground swarm as he did so. As the gargoyle overshot, Audin slashed blindly behind him with his power sword and rent the creature cleanly in two.”
This
is the sort of unorthodox stunt which would be expected of a trainee at the
most. In any normal book if this were seen, it would have the nearest marine
slapping him over the head and taking away his weapon until he went through
weeks of penance and learned to use it properly. Blindly slashing about with
what is effectively a lightsaber, amongst a crowded group of allies at a flying
enemy, when you have perfectly good bolters nearby, is an act of such sheer
stupidity it is simply amazing it got past the editors. Then again that goes
for this whole book. As if this weren’t enough, the best hope for humanity
apparently can’t even remember basic mission details as we get one noting this:
“he could
vaguely recall moments of Audin's briefing before the Mantis Warriors made
planet-fall only a day earlier. Something about giant warriors and psychic
nodes. Ruinus had not paid a great deal of attention - he had just been eager
to get down onto the surface and start devastating some aliens.”
There’s
also a scene in which a hormagaunt successfully pins one marine, causing him
enough trouble to require help from others. Ignoring the mechanics of the game,
which nerf and enhance the skills of factions to create a general balance
between armies, usually anyway, this should be an easy fight. Instead the
hundreds of years old power armoured doom bringer who can punch through
reinforced metal is having trouble with one unassisted cannon fodder the size
of a great dane. For the record, this is like a crocodile trying to pin down a
full grown psychotic bull elephant in a fight and succeeding.
Now,
admittedly the tyranids in this book are far more powerful than they should be.
They utterly ream the marines with little effort with many units like the
zoanthropes (called “tyranid sorcerors” argh!) being borderline
unstoppable. The most notable part of this is where even the tyranid suicide
bombers stop taking the Mantis Warriors as a serious threat and apparently
start trying to have fun. A spore mine is fired into the midst of the marines’
command squad but rather than exploding it instead grabs the standard bearer’s leg, then
drags him away. Despite being struck
by multiple hellfire shells, stabbed and hit repeatedly, it successfully pulls
him out of cover and into the swarm. Doing so with enough force to crush his
“adamantite” armour.
However, this
is quickly overshadowed by the two dumbest actions ever seen in 40K. Winning the
Mantis Warriors the much touted “Least Tactical Sense In A Science Fiction Setting”
award.
After
finally turning their guns on the big monsters, yes there is dialog telling
them “Use the lascannon!” and “bring that thing down!”,
the Devastators turn their attention to the things they should have been
shooting at to begin with. For some reason the Devastators can’t get a line of
sight on it. Instead the Devastator squad heroically sprints away from their
barely holding defensive lines. Rather than using the large heavy weapons which
could have killed it with some concentrated fire, they charge into the
massive tyranid swarm. Then we learn that they all so heroically died to buy
time for their sergeant, who kills one biovore with a bundle of grenades and a
chainsword.
This
would likely be the dumbest moment in the chapter, for more reasons than can be
counted, were it not for what follows it.
A
group of Mantis Warriors in tactical dreadnought armour die fighting against a
carnifex. This isn’t too surprising as even the elite of the first company
would have trouble with a twenty meter tall death machine which is the living
definition of “the last thing you want to meet in a dark alley”. Except, despite both being far better at close combat than they are shooting, they
choose to enter a gun battle with one another. This is also despite only a few pages ago the novel itself stating bolters were having no effect
on the bigger creatures. Were this not ludicrous enough, the carnifex is
initially winning with a barbed
strangler. A weapon which wraps around the Terminators, starts to break through
their heavy armour and is so strong that matter
splitting power weapons cannot cut through it!
Oh,
but all this results in heroic sacrifice with the sergeant winning at the last
moment. Again. Out of nowhere he produces a cyclone
missile launcher and
insta-kills the beast. No mention of this, no hint of him carrying the massive
weapon, and suddenly he has it. Does he use it when they’re fighting anything
else? No. Does he use it before his entire squad dies when they’re fighting at
long range? No. What’s more is that this thing has
supposedly has the force of a small nuclear device:
“Hoenir ducked his head towards the monster
and activated the cyclone missile launcher on his back.
In a flurry of power, the missiles seared over his head, punching deeply into the flesh of the carnifex. They burrowed their way deep inside, like giant maggots, before detonating. With an immense convulsion, the massive creature exploded outwards, sending chunks of sizzling flesh raining into the swarm. A huge fire ball erupted from the heart of the beast, blasting outwards in a wide radius, incinerating dozens of broods of tyranids and reducing the barbed tendrils to ashes, cleansing the dead bodies of the Terminators.”
In a flurry of power, the missiles seared over his head, punching deeply into the flesh of the carnifex. They burrowed their way deep inside, like giant maggots, before detonating. With an immense convulsion, the massive creature exploded outwards, sending chunks of sizzling flesh raining into the swarm. A huge fire ball erupted from the heart of the beast, blasting outwards in a wide radius, incinerating dozens of broods of tyranids and reducing the barbed tendrils to ashes, cleansing the dead bodies of the Terminators.”
And
no, there’s been no hint of it ever being this powerful in any other material.
Admittedly
the stupidity doesn’t get any worse than that in the first chapter’s final
moments. We get lasers, apparently of the multi kind, mounted on a Thunderhawk
gunship, some bad dialog, forced exposition and a visibly forecasted plot hook
but nothing that quite exceeds those two moments. Bear in mind however, this is
only the first chapter and that things
get progressively worse as you read further into the book.
One
small spoiler of an example of just how bad things get: Why is the great
devourer seemingly unstoppable in this? Because of a chair made of tyranids.
So
is it really as bad as fans think? Yes! It really is!
Avoid
anything with Goto’s name on it at all costs. Having been reading Warhammer fluff and the Black Library for over a
decade I can safely say C.S. Goto is definitely the worst person to have
written a novel for the 40K universe. Worst writer overall? Perhaps not, unlike
the other defiler of fluff he at least didn’t write codexes and his stuff could
be ignored.
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