Daedren’s integration into the squad was smoother than he’d anticipated. After the initial introductions, the assault brothers had welcomed him with open arms, eager to see how this newly minted Astartes would fare among them. His days quickly settled into a steady rhythm: rigorous training sessions in the morning, followed by hours in the forge, crafting and repairing small components his squad needed. Despite his limited combat experience, Daedren soon earned the respect of his brothers through his skill at the forge.
Each member of his squad had little quirks with their armor, and Daedren enjoyed customizing parts to suit their needs. He started with minor repairs, reinforcing worn sections of armor, tweaking bolt pistols for smoother fire, and adding personalized touches like grips, reinforced joints, and trigger enhancements that suited each brother’s preferences. The squad quickly grew accustomed to his habit of asking detailed questions about their weapons, always intent on understanding what they needed in battle.
After training one day, Caldon handed Daedren his bolt pistol, a weapon that had seen countless battles, its casing scarred from clashes and singed from plasma bursts. “Think you can give her a bit of an upgrade? Feels like the trigger’s lost its bite.”
Daedren examined the pistol, nodding with a practiced eye. “I can reinforce the trigger mechanism and fine-tune the firing pin. Should make it more responsive.”
He took the pistol back to the forge and set to work, stripping down the weapon with precision, noting every slight imperfection from wear. His hands moved almost automatically, his thoughts already cataloging parts he would need for the task.
As time passed, his squad mates started coming to him with small requests, each one pushing his creativity and precision further. Berus brought him a damaged vambrace with a broken interface, which actually needed the help of a techpriest, as Daedren was not that proficient in electrical and informatic... yet. Thran asked if he could reinforce his shoulder plate with a new alloy overlay for better impact resistance. Each request allowed Daedren to explore and practice, strengthening his bond with each brother, his pride swelling as he saw his craftsmanship in action on the training grounds.
One evening, after a particularly intense training session, Daedren was sitting in the forge, wiping the soot from his face when an idea struck him. He’d seen how each member of his squad relied on their chainswords, the weapons tearing through enemy armor with the brutal efficiency of serrated teeth. But the standard design had its limitations. Watching his squad in training, Daedren had observed that their chainswords often jammed if they hit solid, armored plating. That was when inspiration struck.
He approached Caldon the next day, excitement barely contained in his voice. “What would you think of a chainsword that didn’t rotate?” Daedren asked, earning a confused look.
“A chainsword without rotation?” Caldon raised an eyebrow. “How would it work?”
Daedren held up a rough sketch he’d drawn the night before. “I’m thinking of a design where the teeth don’t rotate around the blade but instead vibrate back and forth at high speed. Like a saw, but with rapid reciprocation instead of circular motion. This way, it would create a shearing effect without getting stuck as easily.”
Caldon leaned in, examining the sketch, his interest piqued. “I like the sound of that. You think you could pull it off?”
“I’d need a few trials, but I’m confident. Plus, with this mechanism, the blade could handle denser armor without compromising on cutting power.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Daedren said, eyes gleaming. The design wouldn’t just tear; it would slice with precision, preventing jamming and maximizing control.
He began by sketching out his idea, marking where he would make adjustments to the weapon’s mechanism. The heart of his design was a reciprocating motion, achieved through a crankshaft or cam mechanism driven by a motor. This would convert rotational energy into linear, back-and-forth motion, a technique he had read about but never seen implemented in a weapon. He envisioned this motion powering a double-edged blade, finely spaced with angled teeth that would shear through material smoothly in both directions.
Caldon was intrigued. “So, you’re saying this thing won’t get stuck?”
Daedren nodded. “With this setup, the teeth will move back and forth at high speed, giving a clean cut without the risk of binding. The oscillation also makes it safer, no kickback when you’re up against something dense. You’ll feel the control in every stroke.”
With Caldon’s approval, Daedren began building. The process was painstaking, as he carefully modified each component of the chainsword to handle the new reciprocating mechanism. The crankshaft required extreme precision, translating the motor’s energy into smooth linear motion. Each component had to withstand the stresses of constant, rapid oscillation while maintaining the integrity of the blade.
The blade design itself was a critical piece of the project. Instead of standard rotating teeth, Daedren crafted a double-edged, high-density blade with rows of angled teeth. Each tooth was positioned to optimize shearing in both directions, increasing cutting efficiency while minimizing the chances of binding. The result was a fine, precise action that felt less like the tearing of a traditional chainsword and more like the slicing of a finely tuned saw. The teeth were carefully spaced to allow for smooth transitions between strokes, creating an efficient, almost rhythmic cutting action.
To maintain stability and ensure precision, Daedren incorporated a guide rail system. This feature prevented lateral movement, allowing the blade to remain steady even under the force of impact. With each stroke, the rail kept the blade aligned, reducing the risk of jarring or bouncing off the target. He installed a stabilization system to minimize vibrations, a crucial feature to prevent the weapon from “jumping” during intense combat.
Heat management posed another challenge. The friction generated by the back-and-forth motion produced considerable heat, especially under extended use. To address this, Daedren included small vents along the blade’s casing and micro-etched channels run throughout the inner core of the blade, strategically layered with thermally conductive ceramics, which are impervious to high-impact stress. These channels transfer heat from the blade's core to the weapon’s outer layers, where it dissipates through advanced fins. These fins are housed in a high-tensile, carbon-nanofiber mesh that resists warping even under extreme temperature fluctuations.
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It took months of painstaking labor, testing, and adjustments, but finally, Daedren held the finished product in his hands, a reciprocating chainsword that represented the pinnacle of his forging skills and his dedication to his squad.
When he presented it to Caldon, the warrior’s face lit up with a mix of curiosity and excitement. “That looks like a beast,” he muttered, eyeing the reinforced blade and its sleek design.
Daedren grinned, passing it to him. “Give it a try.”
In the training yard, Caldon swung the blade, testing its balance. He engaged the motor, and the blade sprang to life with a rapid back-and-forth motion, emitting a low, thrumming hum. The squad watched in awe as Caldon drove the blade into a reinforced target dummy, and, as Daedren had intended, the weapon cut through with astonishing ease. The reciprocating motion allowed for a controlled, smooth cut that avoided the snags and resistance typical of traditional chainswords.
Thran, one of Daedren’s close brothers-in-arms, marveled at the performance. “It’s like watching a thunderstorm in his hands,” he said with a laugh, clearly impressed.
Even Caldon seemed momentarily taken aback by the sheer power and control of the weapon. “It doesn’t just cut, it feels…precise.” He looked at Daedren with newfound respect. “You’re onto something here, brother.”
With Caldon’s enthusiastic endorsement, more of Daedren’s squadmates came to him, each eager for a weapon of similar design. Thran requested a slightly longer version, suited to his reach, while Berus wanted a compact model for close-quarters combat. Daedren took each request seriously, customizing the weapon’s size, weight, and balance to match the individual combat styles of his brothers.
Each chainsword was forged with the same meticulous attention to detail. Daedren became more adept with each iteration, fine-tuning the mechanisms and adjusting the blade length and tooth angles to suit the specific requirements of each brother. His workshop became a place of constant activity, as he labored day and night to perfect his creations.
The squad’s new weapons soon became a source of pride, not just for Daedren but for the entire team. When they took the field for training drills, the power of Daedren’s craftsmanship was evident. The reciprocating chainswords performed flawlessly, slicing through reinforced targets with ease. Each strike felt controlled and deliberate, the vibration and stabilization systems allowing the brothers to maintain accuracy and balance even in the heat of simulated battle.
Caldon turned to Daedren, a gleam in his eye. “This thing’s a beast. Feels like it’s alive in my hands.”
As he continued crafting, Daedren found his purpose within the squad deepening. He wasn’t just another assault brother; he was becoming the one they turned to for innovation, for customizations that gave them an edge in battle. He felt a kinship with the forge that extended beyond the metal and flames; it was his way of caring for his squad, ensuring that every piece he made would protect and empower them.
The final test came during a rigorous training exercise, simulating close-quarters combat with mechanized targets. Caldon and the others wielded Daedren’s vibrating chainswords, each blow sending reverberations through the battlefield as they tore through steel and armor with newfound ease. Watching his brothers fight with weapons he had crafted himself, Daedren felt a profound sense of accomplishment. He had given them tools that reflected not just his skill, but his dedication to their shared purpose.
By the end of the training, Caldon clasped Daedren on the shoulder. “You’ve made us stronger, Daedren. These weapons…they’re incredible. They’re a part of us now.”
_____
Bonus part
In the rare quiet moments between forging the vibrating sword and combat drills, Daedren’s mind turned over the idea of a new innovation, one that could push the boundaries of the reciprocating chainsword even further. The thought had struck him one evening while watching the intense heat generated by the friction of the blade’s motion as it ground into reinforced practice dummies during testing. The excess energy was currently dissipated, mostly as heat, but what if he could harness that power?
The concept seemed straightforward in his mind: convert the excess heat from the blade’s friction into energy that could be redirected to the cutting edges, enhancing each strike with intense heat or even flames. Such a weapon could become not just a cutting tool but a blazing force of destruction, capable of slicing through armor with molten ease. He imagined the blade sparking with intense heat, the teeth glowing as they moved, each stroke a controlled burst of fire and force.
However, translating this concept into reality was far more challenging than he anticipated. He began experimenting during his breaks, sketching out designs and thinking through various mechanisms that might work. His first attempts involved integrating heat-conductive mixed with heat-resistant materials into the blade structure itself, but they couldn’t withstand the oscillation and intense friction without breaking down.
Undeterred, Daedren switched his approach. If he couldn’t use the heat to ignite the blade’s edges, maybe he could redirect the energy into a secondary system. This idea led him to experiment with an intricate system of heat-absorbing coils embedded into the blade. These coils would store excess thermal energy, transferring it into a small power cell nestled within the weapon's hilt. He imagined this stored energy could then be unleashed in a powerful, single burst, a strike that would deliver a potent wave of force capable of pulverizing even light adamantium plating. It was an ambitious idea, but if he succeeded, it would grant him an edge in combat that few other Astartes possessed.
Yet, the path was fraught with challenges. The first prototypes proved disappointing. The heat coils worked in theory but generated too much resistance, affecting the blade's oscillation speed and making the weapon unwieldy. The energy stored in the power cell was far less than he anticipated, and instead of delivering a cataclysmic strike, his test runs barely managed a mild shock. Adding to the difficulties, the coils made the blade heavier than expected. With each test, he realized how close he was to the edge of what was possible, both with the materials and his own understanding of the technology.
Despite these setbacks, Daedren found himself obsessed with perfecting the design. He tried reinforcing the coils, embedding them more deeply within the blade, and adjusting the frequency of the vibration to maximize energy transfer. Hours bled into days, days turned into weeks, as he tinkered, recalibrated, and tested, each attempt bringing a mixture of frustration and hope. The power move, the decisive, energy-fueled strike he envisioned, remained elusive, just beyond his reach.
On more than one occasion, he considered setting the project aside, returning to the tried and true designs he knew would serve him well in the field. But the idea lingered, a spark in the back of his mind. Each failed attempt only fueled his determination, the promise of that final, unstoppable blow spurring him on. The blade might have been heavy, unwieldy, even impractical by some standards, but the potential it represented, of harnessing the raw energy of battle and turning it against his foes, was too tantalizing to abandon.
For now, Daedren stored the unfinished blade in a special corner of the forge, its dark metal glinting in the dim light, a reminder of the challenge he had yet to conquer. The weapon, half-finished and filled with potential, was more than just a project. It was a test, a measure of his growth as both a warrior and a forgemaster. Though he hadn’t yet solved the mysteries of heat and power, he knew one thing for certain: he would return to this blade, and when he did, he would be ready to turn it into something that would echo through the legends of the Salamanders.
For now, the power of fire and force would wait.