Bon alors voilà, un peu tard mea culpa mais le boulot, la famille, les Teutons...
Alors voilà, je me sens un peu seul parce que y a que moi qui ai fait un sondage, du coup j'ai l'impression de faire tâche au milieu des autres textes (complexe paranoïaque, quand tu nous tiens).
Bon, trève de bavardages, v'là le synopsis.
SYNOPSIS :
La lointaine Bordure Orientale est le berceau d’innombrables conflits pour la domination, car là s’entre-déchirent les protagonistes majeurs de la guerre galactique qui consume le 41e millénaire. Espace de contestation car libre de l’emprise des grands empires stellaires, les conquêtes y succèdent aux défaites alors que, diplomatie, ultimatums ou destruction pure et simple, tous les moyens sont bons pour prendre possession du territoire.
Lorsqu’un gouverneur planétaire rebelle décide de quitter le giron de l’Imperium pour rejoindre l’Empire Tau, une réponse sanglante est aussitôt envoyée par l’Administratum, et la Garde Impériale vient châtier les félons. Alors que ceux-ci affrontent leurs anciens frères sur des dizaines de fronts, un détachement de l’Ordo Xenos effectue une frappe chirurgicale au cœur du dispositif alien.
A la tête d’une équipe d’extermination de la Deathwatch, l’archiviste Lauvitz Engelson infiltre le centre de commandes des actions extra-terrestres, afin de décapiter l’appareil militaire Tau et de semer le chaos au sein des troupes xenos. Les méthodes de défense insolites mises en œuvre par la Caste du Feu, directement liées à la philosophie déroutante des aliens, transforment alors une simple opération de recherche et de destruction en véritable lutte psychologique.
Chaque pas vers l’objectif devient un choix crucial, et le sort d’une vie humaine se décide à chaque mètre franchi. Chaque bolt tiré résulte d’un dilemme engageant les valeurs mêmes de la psyché des hommes, en ébranlant des principes inscrits dans la chair de chacun. La gâchette pose une question vitale, à laquelle le canon beugle oui lorsque sa gueule s’embrase ; mais à l’index seul qui presse la détente est vraiment donné le choix de décider.
Le sacrifice des uns est-il l’unique garant de la survie des autres ?
______________________________________________________________________
Et ze extrait (il n'y en a qu'un, je sais pas si c'est le mieux choisi, faites-moi part de vos impressions bou-hou-hou-hou je suis triste je vais mourir ;__; )
EXTRAIT :
Le vacarme s’intensifiait à chaque pas.
Nous nous figeâmes.
Nous n’étions plus qu’à quelques mètres de cette source d’agitation inconnue et à présent, chacun de nous pouvait discerner des gémissements par-dessus les claquements de chaîne.
Des gémissements humains. Des gémissements de douleur.
Je me tournais vers mes frères et sentis que la tension qui croissait en moi montait aussi en eux. L’armure noircie de Cjain portait encore les marques de notre négligence, et nous redoublions de vigilance maintenant que les xenos avaient révélé toute l’étendue de leur fourberie.
Je fis un signe de tête à Shantar, et son bolter se leva. Si les aliens voulaient à nouveau nous confondre par le biais des sentiments, alors l’unique émotion que connaîtrait leur simulacre serait la haine.
Nous fîmes un pas de plus.
A présent, seul un angle de mur nous séparait des plaintes.
Prisonnier humain, ruse xenos ou autre cible non identifiée, la réponse se trouvait derrière le tournant.
Je savais que chacun de mes hommes était prêt à faire hurler la mort au moindre de mes gestes, et que la seconde qui allait suivre ferait l’objet d’un choix décisif et fatal.
Ami, et une erreur de ma part engendrerait un nouveau carnage – et peut-être même la perte d’un de mes frères.
Ennemi, et une même erreur tuerait un innocent.
Or, après ce qui s’était passé, je savais qu’il était hors de question que cela arrive, car la justesse de mon choix traduisait celle de mon commandement. Si j’échouais à nouveau, quelle confiance mes hommes pourraient-ils placer en moi ? L’autorité que je leur inspirais était garante de notre cohésion, et si le doute s’immisçait en eux, alors notre mission était vouée à l’échec. Son accomplissement nécessitait une unité infaillible, notre seule véritable arme pour achever notre objectif étant notre volonté. La confusion s’insinuerait en nous comme un cancer, elle nous rongerait de l’intérieur jusqu’à nous détruire.
Je réalisais que cette confusion était le but de la tactique Tau.
Leurs malices étaient destinées à semer la zizanie entre nous, nous affaiblissant pour mieux nous détruire.
Nous ne faillirons pas !
Stimulé par une brusque poussée d’adrénaline, je bondis à couvert, arme au poing, toute mon escouade m’obéissant aussitôt.
Azarshel brandit son bolter lourd, prêt à nourrir l’enfer ; et vint le funeste dilemme.
En moins d’une seconde, les senseurs de mon casque firent une analyse complète de la cible, devançant mes yeux, et mon cerveau génétiquement amélioré s’empressa de soupeser les informations ; j’avais une fraction de seconde.
Il était pendu au plafond.
Poignets ceints par d’épaisses chaînes de fer, il était suspendu à un mètre au-dessus du sol. Son uniforme lacéré portait les galons d’un officier supérieur de la Garde Impériale, et le sabre énergétique forgé de main de maître qui gisait près de lui témoignait de son rang.
Ses nobles traits étaient creusés de larmes et, même s’il ne pouvait ni parler, ni se mouvoir, son corps entier semblait implorer notre aide.
J’aurais alors du le désigner comme un allié, et ordonner son secours immédiat.
Cependant, certains détails me gênaient.
D’une part, s’il était réellement pendu, alors au cours des longues minutes durant lesquelles nous l’avions entendu se débattre, il aurait tout à fait eu le temps de mourir d’asphyxie. Pourtant, il était toujours en vie – peut-être était-ce là le fruit d’un miracle de volonté, d’un instinct de survie exacerbé, mais étrangement, cette solution ne me satisfaisait pas.
D’autre part, la position de ce sabre, posé à ses pieds, me déroutait. Si cet officier avait été pendu ici par les aliens, pourquoi se seraient-ils donnés la peine de déposer son arme ici ? Voulaient-ils que quelqu’un la trouve, que cette personne l’utilise pour défaire les liens du prisonnier ? Naturellement, cela n’avait pas de sens de fournir une arme à l’ennemi. Ce sabre avait-il ceint l’officier, et s’était-il décroché alors qu’il se démenait dans sa tentative désespérée de se libérer ? Cette hypothèse paraissait improbable, la ceinture du soldat devant logiquement pendre mollement, si l'objet en avait chu – ce qui, bien entendu, n’était pas le cas. Et en y réfléchissant, il n’était même pas sur que cette arme appartenait au garde.
Non, ce sabre était posé ici stratégiquement, de manière précise et dans un but précis, et je sentais la colère embrumer mes sens alors que je prenais pleinement connaissance de ce but : me faire douter.
Le délai était écoulé.
Je devais rendre ma sentence.
Ami ou ennemi, tout dépendait de ce choix crucial.
Je pris la mauvaise décision.
J’hésitais.
______________________________________________________________________
Sur ce, je m'en remets à vos critiques...
Full Version: [BL Contest] " Deathwatchers "
La Communauté Francophone du Wargame > Warhammer 40,000 > Warhammer 40,000 - Développement > Warhammer 40,000 - Fluff & Récits
A voté, rien à redire, très propre, très clair, vraiment du bel ouvrage.
Once, monoligneur averti (et du coup biligneur nah)
Once, monoligneur averti (et du coup biligneur nah)
Bien, sympathicos ce petit texte. J'aime beaucoup le côté hésitation et ses enjeux, très bien rendus. Je bosse sur une traduction valide en ce moment.
Belannaer
QUOTE
Ami, et une erreur de ma part engendrerait un nouveau carnage – et peut-être même la perte d’un de mes frères.
Ennemi, et une même erreur tuerait un innocent.
Ce serait pas le contraire ?Ennemi, et une même erreur tuerait un innocent.
Belannaer
QUOTE(Belannaer @ 29/02/08 , 18:55)
QUOTE
Ami, et une erreur de ma part engendrerait un nouveau carnage – et peut-être même la perte d’un de mes frères.
Ennemi, et une même erreur tuerait un innocent.
Ce serait pas le contraire ?Ennemi, et une même erreur tuerait un innocent.
Nenni, l'ordre est le bon...
Si Lauvitz (le personnage principal) déclare que le gars pendu est un ami, mais qu'il se trompe (bref si c'est un ennemi), alors ils vont essayer de le secourir, il se révèlera que c'était piégeux et ils vont tomber dans ledit piège (c'est justement ce qui leur arrive un peu avant, c'est pour ça qu'il doute du coup).
Si Lauvitz déclare que ce même gars est un ennemi, mais qu'il se trompe, alors ils vont le tuer mais alors ils auront tué un innocent ; et là ses hommes lui disent " Bon, Lauvitz, t'es bien gentil mais t'arrêtes pas de te planter depuis tout à l'heure alors ou bien tu fais un effort pour mieux réfléchir la prochaine fois, ou bien c'est la confusion dans l'escouade et on va louper notre mission. "
Donc bon, il a pas trop intérêt à se tromper...
Banana - merci.
Ah ok, les "ami et "ennemi" sont donc ce qu'il va déclarer et non ce qu'ils sont réellement. Faudrait peut-être préciser ou reformuler, c'est pas limpide pour le lecteur. En attendant voici une traduction possible de la première partie (sans reformulation 
) :
Belannaer
) :QUOTE
Racket was rising at each footstep. We came to a standstill.
Only a few meters separated us from this unknown source of turmoil. From this moment, each one of us could detect some moaning covering the chain cracking. Human moaning. Moaning caused by pain.
I turned to my Brothers and felt that the tension building inside me was building inside them too. Cjan’s blackened armour still bore marks from our carelessness, and since the Xenos had revealed the whole scale of their treachery, we were more vigilant than ever.
I nodded to Shantar, and he raised his bolter. If the aliens wanted to deceive us by sweet-talking again, then hatred would be the only feeling their enactment would know.
Another step forward. Now, there was only a corner of a wall between the moaning and us. Human prisoner, Xeno stratagem or another non-identified target ? The answer lay behind the bend.
I knew that each one of my men was ready to make his weapon at any gesture from me, and that the following jiffy would be fatefully decisive.
Friend, and an error would cause another massacre – and even the loss of one of my Brothers maybe.
Foe, and a same mistake would kill an innocent.
And yet, after which had occurred, I knew it was out of the question for this to happen, because the soundness of my choice reflected that of my command. If I failed again, which confidence could I expect from my men ? The authority I inspired them with guaranteed our cohesion, so if doubt interfered then our mission was doomed to failure. An infallible unit was necessary for its achievement : our willpower was our unique real weapon to reach our goal. Confusion would worm its way into us like a cancer, and gnaw us from the inside till our destruction.
I realized that this confusion was precisely the aim of the Tau tactic. Their deceits were intended to stir up ill-feeling between us, weakening us to destroy us more easily.
We will not fail !
Only a few meters separated us from this unknown source of turmoil. From this moment, each one of us could detect some moaning covering the chain cracking. Human moaning. Moaning caused by pain.
I turned to my Brothers and felt that the tension building inside me was building inside them too. Cjan’s blackened armour still bore marks from our carelessness, and since the Xenos had revealed the whole scale of their treachery, we were more vigilant than ever.
I nodded to Shantar, and he raised his bolter. If the aliens wanted to deceive us by sweet-talking again, then hatred would be the only feeling their enactment would know.
Another step forward. Now, there was only a corner of a wall between the moaning and us. Human prisoner, Xeno stratagem or another non-identified target ? The answer lay behind the bend.
I knew that each one of my men was ready to make his weapon at any gesture from me, and that the following jiffy would be fatefully decisive.
Friend, and an error would cause another massacre – and even the loss of one of my Brothers maybe.
Foe, and a same mistake would kill an innocent.
And yet, after which had occurred, I knew it was out of the question for this to happen, because the soundness of my choice reflected that of my command. If I failed again, which confidence could I expect from my men ? The authority I inspired them with guaranteed our cohesion, so if doubt interfered then our mission was doomed to failure. An infallible unit was necessary for its achievement : our willpower was our unique real weapon to reach our goal. Confusion would worm its way into us like a cancer, and gnaw us from the inside till our destruction.
I realized that this confusion was precisely the aim of the Tau tactic. Their deceits were intended to stir up ill-feeling between us, weakening us to destroy us more easily.
We will not fail !
Belannaer
Deuxième partie :
Etienne, si tu veux corriger ce qui te Titi-lle, il doit y avoir quelques fancicismes...
Belannaer
QUOTE
Spurred by a sudden burst of adrenaline, I rushed forward {? bondir à couvert, bizarre comme concept ^^}, weapon in hand, and all my squad followed me straightaway.
Azarshel brandished his heavy bolter, ready to feed Hell ; then the deathly dilemma appeared.
Within less than a second, the sensors on my helmet fully analyzed the target, faster than my eyes, and my genetically strengthened brain quickly judged the information ; I had a fraction of a second at my disposal.
He was suspended from the roof in mid-air, one meter over the ground. He had heavy iron chains around his wrists. His torn uniform bore the stripes of a Imperial Guard Field Officer, and the masterfully forged energetic sabre laying near him showed well his rank.
His noble features were furrowed with tears, and even if he couldn’t talk, nor move, his whole body seemed to implore us for help. Consequently I should have considered him as an ally, and order that to assist him immediately.
However, some details puzzled me.
On the one hand, if he was really hanging, then the long minutes when we had heard him struggle would have been enough to cause him dying of suffocation. Yet, he was still alive. Maybe it was due to a miraculous determination or a strong will to live, but strangely I wasn’t convinced by this solution.
On the other hand, I was disconcerted by the position of this sabre. If this officer had been suspended here by aliens, why should they have bothered to set his weapon down here ? Did they want somebody to find it, that this person use it to deliver the prisoner ? Of course giving the enemy a weapon didn’t make any sense. Was this sabre hanging on the Officer’s belt before it felt while he was wrestling, desperately willing to free himself ? This assumption seemed improbable : the belt should logically have been sluggishly hanging if the sabre had fallen from it – which was, of course, not the case. And with more reflection, that it was the Officer’s weapon was far from sure.
Definitely, the sabre had been set here for a tactic, in a precise way and in a precise goal. I felt anger fuddle my mind as I became aware of this goal : making me hesitate.
Time was over.
I had to pronounce my sentence.
Friend or foe, everything depended on this crucial choice.
I took the wrong decision.
I hesitated.
Azarshel brandished his heavy bolter, ready to feed Hell ; then the deathly dilemma appeared.
Within less than a second, the sensors on my helmet fully analyzed the target, faster than my eyes, and my genetically strengthened brain quickly judged the information ; I had a fraction of a second at my disposal.
He was suspended from the roof in mid-air, one meter over the ground. He had heavy iron chains around his wrists. His torn uniform bore the stripes of a Imperial Guard Field Officer, and the masterfully forged energetic sabre laying near him showed well his rank.
His noble features were furrowed with tears, and even if he couldn’t talk, nor move, his whole body seemed to implore us for help. Consequently I should have considered him as an ally, and order that to assist him immediately.
However, some details puzzled me.
On the one hand, if he was really hanging, then the long minutes when we had heard him struggle would have been enough to cause him dying of suffocation. Yet, he was still alive. Maybe it was due to a miraculous determination or a strong will to live, but strangely I wasn’t convinced by this solution.
On the other hand, I was disconcerted by the position of this sabre. If this officer had been suspended here by aliens, why should they have bothered to set his weapon down here ? Did they want somebody to find it, that this person use it to deliver the prisoner ? Of course giving the enemy a weapon didn’t make any sense. Was this sabre hanging on the Officer’s belt before it felt while he was wrestling, desperately willing to free himself ? This assumption seemed improbable : the belt should logically have been sluggishly hanging if the sabre had fallen from it – which was, of course, not the case. And with more reflection, that it was the Officer’s weapon was far from sure.
Definitely, the sabre had been set here for a tactic, in a precise way and in a precise goal. I felt anger fuddle my mind as I became aware of this goal : making me hesitate.
Time was over.
I had to pronounce my sentence.
Friend or foe, everything depended on this crucial choice.
I took the wrong decision.
I hesitated.
Etienne, si tu veux corriger ce qui te Titi-lle, il doit y avoir quelques fancicismes...
Belannaer
Hum hum, moins de 24h avant la date butoir(e?), le décompte final a commencé... 
Merci à toi Belannaer pour ton aide, ta trad' est bienvenue alors que le temps presse... Bon, cependant, pinailleur de première que je suis, j'ai trouvé certains passages qui rendaient pas vraiment l'effet que je voulais retranscrire...je les ai modifiés en conséquence.
Je sais que j'en demande beaucoup mais voilà ladite trad' revue et modifiée, à ceux qui sont les mieux placés de juger si les changements sont justifiés ou pas (et surtout s'ils tiennent la route côté linguistique). La culpabilité me fait rougir en demandant encore de l'assistance à la dernière minute mais une vie humaine étant en jeu, j'outrepasse ma honte...
Ze extrait revu :
Et, en passant, j'ai traduit le synopsis, si une âme généreuse voulait bien s'y pencher un peu pour voir ce qui ne va pas :
Merci à toi Belannaer pour ton aide, ta trad' est bienvenue alors que le temps presse... Bon, cependant, pinailleur de première que je suis, j'ai trouvé certains passages qui rendaient pas vraiment l'effet que je voulais retranscrire...je les ai modifiés en conséquence.
Je sais que j'en demande beaucoup mais voilà ladite trad' revue et modifiée, à ceux qui sont les mieux placés de juger si les changements sont justifiés ou pas (et surtout s'ils tiennent la route côté linguistique). La culpabilité me fait rougir en demandant encore de l'assistance à la dernière minute mais une vie humaine étant en jeu, j'outrepasse ma honte...
Ze extrait revu :
QUOTE
Racket was growing louder and louder at each footstep. We came to a standstill.
Only a few meters separated us from this unknown source of turmoil. From this moment, each one of us could detect some moaning over the chain cracking.
Human moaning. Moaning of agony.
I turned to my Brothers and felt that the tension building inside me was building inside them too. Cjain’s blackened armour still bore marks from our carelessness, and since the xenos had revealed the whole scale of their perfidy, we were ever more vigilant.
I nodded to Shantar, and he raised his bolter. If the aliens wanted to deceive us by sweet-talking again, then hatred would be the only feeling their enactment would know.
Another step forward.
Now there was only a corner of a wall between the noise and us. Human prisoner, xeno stratagem or another non-identified target? The answer laid{moi aussi je suis pinailleur ^^} behind the bend.
I knew that each one of my men was ready to make his weapon at any gesture from me, and that the following jiffy would be fatefully decisive. After this fatal second, I would have to know exactly what the target was.{reformulation pour clarifier le passage}
If it was to be a friend, then an error would kill an innocent.
If it was to be a foe, such a mistake would cause another massacre – and even the loss of one of my Brothers maybe.
After what had just occurred, I knew it was out of the question for this to happen, for the soundness of my choice reflected that of my command. If I failed again, what confidence could I expect from my men? The authority I inspired them with guaranteed our cohesion, so if doubt interfered then our mission was doomed to failure. An infallible harmony{ici, "unité" voulait dire "cohésion" } was necessary for its achievement, for our willpower was our unique real weapon to reach our goal. Confusion would worm its way into us like a cancer, and gnaw us from the inside till our destruction.
I realized that this confusion was precisely the aim of the Tau tactic. Their deceits were intended to stir up ill-feeling between us, weakening us to destroy us more easily.
We shall not fail!
Spurred by a sudden burst of adrenaline, I rushed forward, weapon in hand, and all my squad followed me straightaway.
Azarshel raised his heavy bolter, ready to unleash hell upon the enemy.
Then the dilemma came.
Within less than a second, the sensors on my helmet fully analyzed the target, faster than my eyes, and my genetically enhanced brain quickly judged the information. I had a fraction of a second at my disposal.
He was hanged.
Chains of iron tied his wrists and ankles, preventing him from freeing himself as he was suspended from the roof in mid-air, one meter over the ground. His uniform bore the stripes of an Imperial Guard field officer and a master-crafted power sword was lying on the ground, beneath him.
His noble features were furrowed with tears, and even if he couldn’t talk, nor move, his whole body seemed to beg us for salvation. Consequently, I should have considered him as an ally and order my men to help him immediately.
However, some details puzzled me.
On the one hand, if he was really hanging, then during the long minutes we had heard him struggle would have been enough to cause him dying of suffocation. Yet, he was still alive – maybe it was due to a miraculous determination but strangely, I wasn’t convinced by this solution.
On the other hand, I was disconcerted by the position of this sword. If this officer had been suspended here by the aliens, why would they have bothered to set his weapon down here? Did they want somebody to find it, that this person use it to deliver the prisoner? Of course giving the enemy a weapon didn’t make any sense. Was this sword hanging on the officer’s belt, then fell while he was desperately wrestling to free himself? This assumption seemed improbable: the belt should logically have been sluggishly hanging if the sword had fallen from it – which was, of course, not the case. And thinking about it, that it was the officer’s weapon was not even sure.
Definitely, the sword had been set here strategically, in a precise way and in a precise goal. I felt anger fuddle my mind as I became aware of this goal: making me hesitate.
Time was over.
I had to pronounce my judgment.
Friend or foe, everything depended on this crucial choice.
I took the wrong decision.
I hesitated.
Only a few meters separated us from this unknown source of turmoil. From this moment, each one of us could detect some moaning over the chain cracking.
Human moaning. Moaning of agony.
I turned to my Brothers and felt that the tension building inside me was building inside them too. Cjain’s blackened armour still bore marks from our carelessness, and since the xenos had revealed the whole scale of their perfidy, we were ever more vigilant.
I nodded to Shantar, and he raised his bolter. If the aliens wanted to deceive us by sweet-talking again, then hatred would be the only feeling their enactment would know.
Another step forward.
Now there was only a corner of a wall between the noise and us. Human prisoner, xeno stratagem or another non-identified target? The answer laid{moi aussi je suis pinailleur ^^} behind the bend.
I knew that each one of my men was ready to make his weapon at any gesture from me, and that the following jiffy would be fatefully decisive. After this fatal second, I would have to know exactly what the target was.{reformulation pour clarifier le passage}
If it was to be a friend, then an error would kill an innocent.
If it was to be a foe, such a mistake would cause another massacre – and even the loss of one of my Brothers maybe.
After what had just occurred, I knew it was out of the question for this to happen, for the soundness of my choice reflected that of my command. If I failed again, what confidence could I expect from my men? The authority I inspired them with guaranteed our cohesion, so if doubt interfered then our mission was doomed to failure. An infallible harmony{ici, "unité" voulait dire "cohésion" } was necessary for its achievement, for our willpower was our unique real weapon to reach our goal. Confusion would worm its way into us like a cancer, and gnaw us from the inside till our destruction.
I realized that this confusion was precisely the aim of the Tau tactic. Their deceits were intended to stir up ill-feeling between us, weakening us to destroy us more easily.
We shall not fail!
Spurred by a sudden burst of adrenaline, I rushed forward, weapon in hand, and all my squad followed me straightaway.
Azarshel raised his heavy bolter, ready to unleash hell upon the enemy.
Then the dilemma came.
Within less than a second, the sensors on my helmet fully analyzed the target, faster than my eyes, and my genetically enhanced brain quickly judged the information. I had a fraction of a second at my disposal.
He was hanged.
Chains of iron tied his wrists and ankles, preventing him from freeing himself as he was suspended from the roof in mid-air, one meter over the ground. His uniform bore the stripes of an Imperial Guard field officer and a master-crafted power sword was lying on the ground, beneath him.
His noble features were furrowed with tears, and even if he couldn’t talk, nor move, his whole body seemed to beg us for salvation. Consequently, I should have considered him as an ally and order my men to help him immediately.
However, some details puzzled me.
On the one hand, if he was really hanging, then during the long minutes we had heard him struggle would have been enough to cause him dying of suffocation. Yet, he was still alive – maybe it was due to a miraculous determination but strangely, I wasn’t convinced by this solution.
On the other hand, I was disconcerted by the position of this sword. If this officer had been suspended here by the aliens, why would they have bothered to set his weapon down here? Did they want somebody to find it, that this person use it to deliver the prisoner? Of course giving the enemy a weapon didn’t make any sense. Was this sword hanging on the officer’s belt, then fell while he was desperately wrestling to free himself? This assumption seemed improbable: the belt should logically have been sluggishly hanging if the sword had fallen from it – which was, of course, not the case. And thinking about it, that it was the officer’s weapon was not even sure.
Definitely, the sword had been set here strategically, in a precise way and in a precise goal. I felt anger fuddle my mind as I became aware of this goal: making me hesitate.
Time was over.
I had to pronounce my judgment.
Friend or foe, everything depended on this crucial choice.
I took the wrong decision.
I hesitated.
Et, en passant, j'ai traduit le synopsis, si une âme généreuse voulait bien s'y pencher un peu pour voir ce qui ne va pas :
QUOTE
The Eastern Fringe of the galaxy is the place of numerous conflicts for domination, for in this place do the main protagonists of the war that consumes the 41th Millenium tear one another, the hammer of their ambition crushing thousands of worlds on the bloody anvil of battle. Free from the supremacy of the great stellar empires, this is a place of contestation and conquests follow defeats as days follow nights. Diplomacy, persuasion or more simply, total annihilation, these are all ways to victory, for only the most ruthless and strong-willed spirits have the power to rule the stars.
When a planetary governor decides that he is no longer a servant of the Imperium and joins the Tau Empire, the Administratum immediately answers this deadly insult and sends the Imperial Guard to crush the traitors. As men fight against men on dozen of battlefronts, an Ordo Xenos detachment strikes the very heart of the xenos headquarters.
Leading a Deathwatch kill-team, the librarian Lauvitz Engelson infiltrates the center of command of the aliens in order to decapitate the Tau military system, and then bring confusion to the xenos. Yet, the troubling methods of defense used by the Fire Cast, linked directly with the disconcerting philosophy of the Tau, turn a simple mission of search and destroy into a psychological struggle.
Every step taken to the objective becomes a crucial choice, and the fate of a man is decided with every meter crossed. Every round fired is the result of a dilemma that shocks the very core of human mind, as the trigger asks a fatal question which is answered yes! by the gun when it shoots. However, it is not the place of the gun to decide, for this decision only belongs to the man who bears it.
Is the sacrifice of ones the only way for the others to survive?
When a planetary governor decides that he is no longer a servant of the Imperium and joins the Tau Empire, the Administratum immediately answers this deadly insult and sends the Imperial Guard to crush the traitors. As men fight against men on dozen of battlefronts, an Ordo Xenos detachment strikes the very heart of the xenos headquarters.
Leading a Deathwatch kill-team, the librarian Lauvitz Engelson infiltrates the center of command of the aliens in order to decapitate the Tau military system, and then bring confusion to the xenos. Yet, the troubling methods of defense used by the Fire Cast, linked directly with the disconcerting philosophy of the Tau, turn a simple mission of search and destroy into a psychological struggle.
Every step taken to the objective becomes a crucial choice, and the fate of a man is decided with every meter crossed. Every round fired is the result of a dilemma that shocks the very core of human mind, as the trigger asks a fatal question which is answered yes! by the gun when it shoots. However, it is not the place of the gun to decide, for this decision only belongs to the man who bears it.
Is the sacrifice of ones the only way for the others to survive?
Bon, déjà ma trad' revue par mon stylo correcteur modèle "bilingue" :
Après, euh... tu pourrais rougiser ce que tu as modifié stp ? Parce que tout détecter c'est long et fastidieux, pis on peut ne pas tout remarquer...
Belannaer
QUOTE
We could hear a racket which was increasing at every footstep. We came to a standstill.
Only a few meters separated us from this unknown source of turmoil. From this moment onward, we could all detect some moaning covering the clanging of the chain. Human moaning. Moaning caused by pain.
I turned to my Brothers and felt that the tension building inside me was building inside them too. Cjan's blackened armour still bore marks from our carelessness, and since the Xenos had revealed the whole scale of their treachery, we were more vigilant than ever.
I nodded to Shantar, and he raised his bolter. If the aliens wanted to deceive us by sweet-talking again, then hatred would be the only feeling their mockery would know.
Another step forward. There was now but an edge of a wall between the moaning and us. Was it a Human prisoner, Xeno stratagem or another non-identified target ? The answer lay behind the bend.
I knew that all of my men were ready to make their weapon roar at any gesture from me, and that the following jiffy would be fatefully decisive.
Friend, and an error would cause another massacre – and even the loss of one of my Brothers maybe.
Foe, and a same mistake would kill an innocent.
And yet, after which had occurred, I knew it was out of the question for this to happen, because the soundness of my choice reflected that of my command. If I failed again, which confidence could I expect from my men ? The authority I inspired them with guaranteed our cohesion, so if doubt interfered then our mission was doomed to failure. An infallible unit was necessary for its achievement : our willpower was our unique real weapon to reach our goal. Confusion would worm its way into us like a cancer, and gnaw us from the inside till our destruction.
I realized that this confusion was precisely the aim of the Tau tactic. Their deceits were intended to stir up ill-feeling between us, weakening us to destroy us more easily.
We will not fail !
Spurred by a sudden burst of adrenaline, I rushed forward, weapon in hand, and all my squad followed me straightaway.
Azarshel brandished his heavy bolter, ready to feed Hell ; then the deathly dilemma appeared.
Within less than a second, the sensors on my helmet fully analyzed the target, faster than my eyes, and my genetically strengthened brain quickly judged the information ; I had a fraction of a second at my disposal.
He was suspended from the roof in mid-air, one meter over the ground. He had heavy iron chains around his wrists. His torn uniform bore the stripes of a Imperial Guard Field Officer, and the masterfully forged energetic sabre laying near him showed well his rank.
His noble features were furrowed with tears, and even if he couldn't talk, nor move, his whole body seemed to implore us for help. Consequently I should have considered him as an ally, and order that to assist him immediately.
However, some details puzzled me.
On the one hand, if he was really hanging, then the long minutes when we had heard him struggle would have been enough to cause him dying of suffocation. Yet, he was still alive. Maybe it was due to a miraculous determination or a strong will to live, but strangely I wasn't convinced by this solution.
On the other hand, I was disconcerted by the position of this sabre. If this officer had been suspended here by aliens, why should they have bothered to set his weapon down here ? Did they want somebody to find it, that this person use it to deliver the prisoner ? Of course giving the enemy a weapon didn't make any sense. Was this sabre hanging on the Officer's belt before it felt while he was wrestling, desperately willing to free himself ? This assumption seemed improbable : the belt should logically have been sluggishly hanging if the sabre had fallen from it – which was, of course, not the case. And after some reflection, I was beginning to doubt that it was the Officer's weapon.
The sabre had definitely been set here for a tactic, in a precise way and in a precise goal. I felt anger fuddle my mind as I became aware of this goal : making me hesitate.
Time was over.
I had to pronounce my sentence.
Friend or foe, everything depended on this crucial choice.
I took the wrong decision.
I hesitated.
Only a few meters separated us from this unknown source of turmoil. From this moment onward, we could all detect some moaning covering the clanging of the chain. Human moaning. Moaning caused by pain.
I turned to my Brothers and felt that the tension building inside me was building inside them too. Cjan's blackened armour still bore marks from our carelessness, and since the Xenos had revealed the whole scale of their treachery, we were more vigilant than ever.
I nodded to Shantar, and he raised his bolter. If the aliens wanted to deceive us by sweet-talking again, then hatred would be the only feeling their mockery would know.
Another step forward. There was now but an edge of a wall between the moaning and us. Was it a Human prisoner, Xeno stratagem or another non-identified target ? The answer lay behind the bend.
I knew that all of my men were ready to make their weapon roar at any gesture from me, and that the following jiffy would be fatefully decisive.
Friend, and an error would cause another massacre – and even the loss of one of my Brothers maybe.
Foe, and a same mistake would kill an innocent.
And yet, after which had occurred, I knew it was out of the question for this to happen, because the soundness of my choice reflected that of my command. If I failed again, which confidence could I expect from my men ? The authority I inspired them with guaranteed our cohesion, so if doubt interfered then our mission was doomed to failure. An infallible unit was necessary for its achievement : our willpower was our unique real weapon to reach our goal. Confusion would worm its way into us like a cancer, and gnaw us from the inside till our destruction.
I realized that this confusion was precisely the aim of the Tau tactic. Their deceits were intended to stir up ill-feeling between us, weakening us to destroy us more easily.
We will not fail !
Spurred by a sudden burst of adrenaline, I rushed forward, weapon in hand, and all my squad followed me straightaway.
Azarshel brandished his heavy bolter, ready to feed Hell ; then the deathly dilemma appeared.
Within less than a second, the sensors on my helmet fully analyzed the target, faster than my eyes, and my genetically strengthened brain quickly judged the information ; I had a fraction of a second at my disposal.
He was suspended from the roof in mid-air, one meter over the ground. He had heavy iron chains around his wrists. His torn uniform bore the stripes of a Imperial Guard Field Officer, and the masterfully forged energetic sabre laying near him showed well his rank.
His noble features were furrowed with tears, and even if he couldn't talk, nor move, his whole body seemed to implore us for help. Consequently I should have considered him as an ally, and order that to assist him immediately.
However, some details puzzled me.
On the one hand, if he was really hanging, then the long minutes when we had heard him struggle would have been enough to cause him dying of suffocation. Yet, he was still alive. Maybe it was due to a miraculous determination or a strong will to live, but strangely I wasn't convinced by this solution.
On the other hand, I was disconcerted by the position of this sabre. If this officer had been suspended here by aliens, why should they have bothered to set his weapon down here ? Did they want somebody to find it, that this person use it to deliver the prisoner ? Of course giving the enemy a weapon didn't make any sense. Was this sabre hanging on the Officer's belt before it felt while he was wrestling, desperately willing to free himself ? This assumption seemed improbable : the belt should logically have been sluggishly hanging if the sabre had fallen from it – which was, of course, not the case. And after some reflection, I was beginning to doubt that it was the Officer's weapon.
The sabre had definitely been set here for a tactic, in a precise way and in a precise goal. I felt anger fuddle my mind as I became aware of this goal : making me hesitate.
Time was over.
I had to pronounce my sentence.
Friend or foe, everything depended on this crucial choice.
I took the wrong decision.
I hesitated.
Après, euh... tu pourrais rougiser ce que tu as modifié stp ? Parce que tout détecter c'est long et fastidieux, pis on peut ne pas tout remarquer...
Belannaer
Voilà...z'ai fait beaucoup de modifs en fait 
Merci à ton stylo magique pour la trad' =)
Juste...euh, est-ce qu'il y aurait une autre tournure possible pour la toute première phrase ? Non parce que " We could hear a racket which was increasing " c'est pas que c'est pas très léger mais... Enfin je dis ça, je dis rien, je me plie au savoir du tout-puissant stylo.
Banana - et mon synopsis
?
Merci à ton stylo magique pour la trad' =)
Juste...euh, est-ce qu'il y aurait une autre tournure possible pour la toute première phrase ? Non parce que " We could hear a racket which was increasing " c'est pas que c'est pas très léger mais... Enfin je dis ça, je dis rien, je me plie au savoir du tout-puissant stylo.
Banana - et mon synopsis
?
QUOTE
et mon synopsis ?
Il arrive ?.QUOTE
The faraway Eastern Fringe of the galaxy is the scene of numerous conflicts for domination : there, the main protagonists of the war consuming the 41th Millenium are tearing each other apart, the hammer of their ambition crushing thousands of worlds on the bloody anvil of battle. Free from the supremacy of the great stellar empires, this is a place of contesting and conquests follow defeats as days follow nights. Diplomacy, persuasion or more simply, total annihilation, all of these are ways to victory, for only the most ruthless and strong-willed spirits have the power to rule the stars.
When a planet governor decides that he is no longer a servant of the Imperium and joins the Tau Empire, the Administratum immediately answers this deadly insult and sends the Imperial Guard to crush the traitors. As men fight against men in dozens of battlefronts, an Ordo Xenos detachment strikes the very heart of the xenos headquarters.
Leading a Deathwatch extermination-team, the librarian Lauvitz Engelson infiltrates the alien center of command in order to neutralize the core of the Tau military system, and then bring confusion among the xenos. Then, the troubling methods of defense used by the Fire Caste, linked directly to the disconcerting Tau philosophy, turn a simple reconnaissance and destruction mission into a psychological struggle.
Every step towards the objective becomes a crucial choice, and for each meter covered, a human destiny is decided. Each ammo fired is the result of a dilemma that shocks the very core of human mind, as the trigger asks a fateful question which is answered "yes !" by the gun when it shoots. However, it is not up to the gun to decide, for this decision only belongs to the man who bears it.
Is the sacrifice of some people the only way for the others to survive ?
J'ai réussi à placer mon "up to" When a planet governor decides that he is no longer a servant of the Imperium and joins the Tau Empire, the Administratum immediately answers this deadly insult and sends the Imperial Guard to crush the traitors. As men fight against men in dozens of battlefronts, an Ordo Xenos detachment strikes the very heart of the xenos headquarters.
Leading a Deathwatch extermination-team, the librarian Lauvitz Engelson infiltrates the alien center of command in order to neutralize the core of the Tau military system, and then bring confusion among the xenos. Then, the troubling methods of defense used by the Fire Caste, linked directly to the disconcerting Tau philosophy, turn a simple reconnaissance and destruction mission into a psychological struggle.
Every step towards the objective becomes a crucial choice, and for each meter covered, a human destiny is decided. Each ammo fired is the result of a dilemma that shocks the very core of human mind, as the trigger asks a fateful question which is answered "yes !" by the gun when it shoots. However, it is not up to the gun to decide, for this decision only belongs to the man who bears it.
Is the sacrifice of some people the only way for the others to survive ?
.QUOTE
laid{moi aussi je suis pinailleur ^^}
Non, "lay" comme prétérit de "lie" (reposer, se trouver), qui est plus approprié.QUOTE
If it was to be a friend
If it was to be a foe
Je crois que c'est "if it were", comme on dit "If I were you". If it was to be a foe
QUOTE
He was hanged.
Hanging plutôt.QUOTE
Chains of iron
Iron chains ?QUOTE
And thinking about it, that it was the officer’s weapon was not even sure.
La nouvelle version est la meilleure, non ?QUOTE
Juste...euh, est-ce qu'il y aurait une autre tournure possible pour la toute première phrase ?
Faisons un mix... "We could hear a racket, growing louder and louder at every footstep" ?Sinon pas d'autre remarque quant à tes modifications (à part que tu aimes beaucoup le "for" à la place du "because"
. Ca donnerait :QUOTE
We could hear a racket, growing louder and louder at every footstep. We came to a standstill.
Only a few meters separated us from this unknown source of turmoil. From this moment onward, we could all detect some moaning covering the clanging of the chain. Human moaning. Moaning of agony.
I turned to my Brothers and felt that the tension building inside me was building inside them too. Cjan's blackened armour still bore marks from our carelessness, and since the Xenos had revealed the whole scale of their perfidy, we were ever more vigilant.
I nodded to Shantar, and he raised his bolter. If the aliens wanted to deceive us by sweet-talking again, then hatred would be the only feeling their mockery would know.
Another step forward. There was now but an edge of a wall between the moaning and us. Was it a Human prisoner, Xeno stratagem or another non-identified target ? The answer lay behind the bend.
I knew that all of my men were ready to make their weapon roar at any gesture from me, and that the following jiffy would be fatefully decisive. After this fatal second, I would have to know exactly what the target was.
If it were to be a friend, then an error would kill an innocent.
If it were to be a foe, such a mistake would cause another massacre – and even the loss of one of my Brothers maybe.
After which had just occurred, I knew it was out of the question for this to happen, for the soundness of my choice reflected that of my command. If I failed again, what confidence could I expect from my men ? The authority I inspired them with guaranteed our cohesion, so if doubt interfered then our mission was doomed to failure. An infallible harmony was necessary for its achievement, for our willpower was our unique real weapon to reach our goal. Confusion would worm its way into us like a cancer, and gnaw us from the inside till our destruction.
I realized that this confusion was precisely the aim of the Tau tactic. Their deceits were intended to stir up ill-feeling between us, weakening us to destroy us more easily.
We shall not fail !
Spurred by a sudden burst of adrenaline, I rushed forward, weapon in hand, and all my squad followed me straightaway.
Azarshel brandished his heavy bolter, ready unleash hell upon the enemy.
Then the dilemma came.
Within less than a second, the sensors on my helmet fully analyzed the target, faster than my eyes, and my genetically strengthened brain quickly judged the information ; I had a fraction of a second at my disposal.
He was hanging.
Iron chains tied his wrists and ankles, preventing him from freeing himself as he was suspended from the roof in mid-air, one meter over the ground. His uniform bore the stripes of an Imperial Guard field officer and a master-crafted power sword was lying on the ground, beneath him.
His noble features were furrowed with tears, and even if he couldn't talk, nor move, his whole body seemed to beg us for salvation. Consequently, I should have considered him as an ally and order my men to help him immediately.
However, some details puzzled me.
On the one hand, if he was really hanging, then the long minutes when we had heard him struggle would have been enough to cause him dying of suffocation. Yet, he was still alive. Maybe it was due to a miraculous determination or a strong will to live, but strangely I wasn't convinced by this solution.
On the other hand, I was disconcerted by the position of this sabre. If this officer had been suspended here by aliens, why should they have bothered to set his weapon down here ? Did they want somebody to find it, that this person use it to deliver the prisoner ? Of course giving the enemy a weapon didn't make any sense. Was this sabre hanging on the Officer's belt before it felt while he was wrestling, desperately willing to free himself ? This assumption seemed improbable : the belt should logically have been sluggishly hanging if the sabre had fallen from it – which was, of course, not the case. And after some reflection, I was beginning to doubt that it was the Officer's weapon.
The sabre had definitely been set here strategically, in a precise way and in a precise goal. I felt anger fuddle my mind as I became aware of this goal : making me hesitate.
Time was over.
I had to pronounce my judgment.
Friend or foe, everything depended on this crucial choice.
I took the wrong decision.
I hesitated.
Only a few meters separated us from this unknown source of turmoil. From this moment onward, we could all detect some moaning covering the clanging of the chain. Human moaning. Moaning of agony.
I turned to my Brothers and felt that the tension building inside me was building inside them too. Cjan's blackened armour still bore marks from our carelessness, and since the Xenos had revealed the whole scale of their perfidy, we were ever more vigilant.
I nodded to Shantar, and he raised his bolter. If the aliens wanted to deceive us by sweet-talking again, then hatred would be the only feeling their mockery would know.
Another step forward. There was now but an edge of a wall between the moaning and us. Was it a Human prisoner, Xeno stratagem or another non-identified target ? The answer lay behind the bend.
I knew that all of my men were ready to make their weapon roar at any gesture from me, and that the following jiffy would be fatefully decisive. After this fatal second, I would have to know exactly what the target was.
If it were to be a friend, then an error would kill an innocent.
If it were to be a foe, such a mistake would cause another massacre – and even the loss of one of my Brothers maybe.
After which had just occurred, I knew it was out of the question for this to happen, for the soundness of my choice reflected that of my command. If I failed again, what confidence could I expect from my men ? The authority I inspired them with guaranteed our cohesion, so if doubt interfered then our mission was doomed to failure. An infallible harmony was necessary for its achievement, for our willpower was our unique real weapon to reach our goal. Confusion would worm its way into us like a cancer, and gnaw us from the inside till our destruction.
I realized that this confusion was precisely the aim of the Tau tactic. Their deceits were intended to stir up ill-feeling between us, weakening us to destroy us more easily.
We shall not fail !
Spurred by a sudden burst of adrenaline, I rushed forward, weapon in hand, and all my squad followed me straightaway.
Azarshel brandished his heavy bolter, ready unleash hell upon the enemy.
Then the dilemma came.
Within less than a second, the sensors on my helmet fully analyzed the target, faster than my eyes, and my genetically strengthened brain quickly judged the information ; I had a fraction of a second at my disposal.
He was hanging.
Iron chains tied his wrists and ankles, preventing him from freeing himself as he was suspended from the roof in mid-air, one meter over the ground. His uniform bore the stripes of an Imperial Guard field officer and a master-crafted power sword was lying on the ground, beneath him.
His noble features were furrowed with tears, and even if he couldn't talk, nor move, his whole body seemed to beg us for salvation. Consequently, I should have considered him as an ally and order my men to help him immediately.
However, some details puzzled me.
On the one hand, if he was really hanging, then the long minutes when we had heard him struggle would have been enough to cause him dying of suffocation. Yet, he was still alive. Maybe it was due to a miraculous determination or a strong will to live, but strangely I wasn't convinced by this solution.
On the other hand, I was disconcerted by the position of this sabre. If this officer had been suspended here by aliens, why should they have bothered to set his weapon down here ? Did they want somebody to find it, that this person use it to deliver the prisoner ? Of course giving the enemy a weapon didn't make any sense. Was this sabre hanging on the Officer's belt before it felt while he was wrestling, desperately willing to free himself ? This assumption seemed improbable : the belt should logically have been sluggishly hanging if the sabre had fallen from it – which was, of course, not the case. And after some reflection, I was beginning to doubt that it was the Officer's weapon.
The sabre had definitely been set here strategically, in a precise way and in a precise goal. I felt anger fuddle my mind as I became aware of this goal : making me hesitate.
Time was over.
I had to pronounce my judgment.
Friend or foe, everything depended on this crucial choice.
I took the wrong decision.
I hesitated.
Belannaer
Our eyes widened at such a wondrous translation... I wanted to thank my Saviour, this god-like man who owned the power to turn french into nearly perfect english with nothing more than his brain and...er, a pen and...er, anyway the words died in my throat.
Bon, délire à part, merci encore pour ton aide, Belannaer
(je sais dire que ça) Je crois bien que tu viens d'écrire la version finale de la traduction
Merci encore pour ton précieux secours.
Banana - trois paragraphes pour paraphraser un mot...
Edit : En fait...euh...juste un dernier point ^^' Pour la trad du synopsis, la toute dernière phrase : " Is the sacrifice of some people the only way for the others to survive? " ... Ben en fait, c'est pas que c'est pas très classe en soi, mais en plus ça a pas trop le même effet que la phrase en français, ça fait un peu déclaration électorale annoncée aux infos de 20h je trouve...
Je vais peut-être donc la supprimer parce que ça gâche un peu la fin alors que c'est sensé offrir une chute classieuse.
Edit 2 : Voilà, c'est envoyé. Merci à tous, surtout Bel et Titi. Bonne chance à Once, evilsunz et Doom (et les autres on les connaît pas, donc mauvaise chance à eux ôo), et rendez-vous dans huit semaines...
Bon, délire à part, merci encore pour ton aide, Belannaer
(je sais dire que ça) Je crois bien que tu viens d'écrire la version finale de la traduction Merci encore pour ton précieux secours.
Banana - trois paragraphes pour paraphraser un mot...
Edit : En fait...euh...juste un dernier point ^^' Pour la trad du synopsis, la toute dernière phrase : " Is the sacrifice of some people the only way for the others to survive? " ... Ben en fait, c'est pas que c'est pas très classe en soi, mais en plus ça a pas trop le même effet que la phrase en français, ça fait un peu déclaration électorale annoncée aux infos de 20h je trouve...
Je vais peut-être donc la supprimer parce que ça gâche un peu la fin alors que c'est sensé offrir une chute classieuse.
Edit 2 : Voilà, c'est envoyé. Merci à tous, surtout Bel et Titi. Bonne chance à Once, evilsunz et Doom (et les autres on les connaît pas, donc mauvaise chance à eux ôo), et rendez-vous dans huit semaines...
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