The story that I entered in the tournament that won the 'best story' award.
Golden sunlight bathed Governor Jarmal’s private
stateroom. The sun just starting to dip lower in the sky was casting long
shadows across the room. Kiervan Jarmal stood, letting the warmth of the sun
fall across his face. A great many things troubled him, the arrival of the Ork
fleet most of all, with the woeful weakness in numbers of his PDF adding to his
worries. He reached down and picked up his cigar from the ashtray, raising it
to his lips and breathing in the wonderful taste deep into his chest. The heady
aroma and the almost sensual caress of the smoke going a little way to easing
the fears he harbored. True, Forlorn Hope’s own defense would not hold against
such a mighty foe but the impending arrival of the Emperor’s own warriors, the
astartes, made his hopes soar and his determination galvanize. Though he had
never seen any in action personally, he had heard many tales of their heroics
and deeds in battle. It would be the greatest honour of his life to be in the
presence of such mighty weapons of the Emperor’s might.