NationStates Jolt Archive

A standard Battlegroup had been mobilised. There would be no more diversionary tactics, minor raids, hostilities, and the like against Chronosia. The Lord High Commander, who, until recently had only controlled 1/3 of the Council, bribed and blackmailed most of the members into a war with the Chronosians.

She needed this war in order to consilidate her power, and Chronosia was a nearby, distracted enemy, who was probably the best target at the moment. People hated daemons, and Chronosia was infested with them.

A Battlegroup would be no match for the mighty Chronosian Fleet, but the intent was not to win the war, but to defend their own planets while destroying vital Chronosian military installations. After which, they could wring a favourable peace treaty from Chronosia, and then install themselves in the Galactic Empire, while she used that support to eliminate other, more vital enemies, such as Taledonia.

Power was her only goal, and the Council, people of Hyperspatial Travel, even the Chronosians, were merely tools to further her own personal goals. She opened her NeuralNetImplant to communicate with her commanders, confirming that they were prepared to enter Chronosian space.

She had no doubt that Chronosia was ready for the attack, so she had planned for over fifty small raiding groups to enter Chronosian space, in order to disrupt the running of supply routes and communications.

She had fortified the inner planets and outer planets, and had stocked food away on a few secret worlds, and most of the border world civilians had already been evacuated, pending a Chronosian invasion. It was a certain thing that neither Chronosia nor HT would use planet-killing weaponry during this war, mainly because of the expense, but mostly because neither was stupid enough to waste a planet like that. Of course, they would both probably bombard the outer surface to prevent it from acting as a supply base, but the underground fortifications should help prevent that.

(OOC: Chronosia. For the duration of this war, can we please keep of the planet-killers, unless we both agree to it ICly? I really want to fight mostly ground wars, mainly because I never get to)

The Chronosian Invasion Battlegroup was small, for a battlegroup, and comprised of the following:

1 I Can Do Stuff Heavy Carrier
1 Nexus Heavy Cruiser
3 Silence Heavy Destroyer
4 Irrigation Technique Light Destroyers
17 Follow the Leader Heavy Frigates
22 Wise Guy Light Frigates
27 Hey, Look at Me! Support Frigates
235 Be Kind to the Little Guy Interceptor
345 I Can Fly! Fighter
200 Tarot Bomber

Note: The Ship Naming Department had its funding cut by half this year.

She hoped to generate enough of a war that she would have martial law declared, and that she could then either return as the conquering hero, and rule Hyperspatial Travel, or return as the beleagured commander, attempting to defend her country and negotiate a peace settlement with the Chronosians. Either way, she won....

The Imperium was ready; it was a time of war, galactic war; and its borders were now closed. Mines hovered, ready and hungry, in the void. Stations and defense arrays stretched out across key points in the borders; and beyond that, the fleet waited.

Around 1000 ships stood ready; loyal to Remiel, Lord of the Black Inquisition. He had been granted the role of Lord Protector of the Imperium, while his Father was at war; and now, he relished this power. He would sunder the enemy; he would destroy them all. A faint smile graced his lips; his long black hair flowing and moving as he slid deeper into the carresses of his throne.

"Interlopers in Imperial territory; this is Remiel; Lord of the Inquisition. You have one conventional Terran minute to remove yourself from our territory; or we shall destroy you; such is the will of the Daemon Emperor; such is the desire of the Gods."

He smirked softly, moving to look forth across their domain. "I commend your souls to Chaos for your bravery; but it is foolishness that shall deliver your souls as food for the Gods."

(Nope, don't need my help here, lol)

"Your demon emperor's words are useless, your gods false."

A transmission replied.

From a warp point (OOC: In no way related to the Warhammer 40k warp) near the HT fleet, ships started emerging. One monitor was already there, but others emerged, along with many other ships and ship types.

The final ship count was:
6 Monitors
27 Superdreadnaughts
27 Heavy Carriers
45 Dradnaughts
36 Assault Carriers
45 Battlecruisers
36 Carriers
54 Cruisers
45 Light Carriers
63 Light Cruisers

"Hyperspatial Travel fleet, may we offer our assistance?"

OOC: this is 1v1

OOC: Hey Chron, old pal Thrash here. Need any help?

OOC: Not unless it turns to 2v2, in which case sure; that'd be fun :D

(OOC: Good luck Chron, I hope you crush them, mainly because they now appear to pose a threat to me and the Republic. This of course is being said in response to this:

A Battlegroup would be no match for the mighty Chronosian Fleet, but the intent was not to win the war, but to defend their own planets while destroying vital Chronosian military installations. After which, they could wring a favourable peace treaty from Chronosia, and then install themselves in the Galactic Empire, while she used that support to eliminate other, more vital enemies, such as Taledonia.

So, good luck with this.)

oh, well... seeing as it is a 1 VS 1, you can jsut ignore my post

(OOC: Good luck Chron, I hope you crush them, mainly because they now appear to pose a threat to me and the Republic. This of course is being said in response to this:



So, good luck with this.)

OOC: No offense Taledonia, but you just made yourself look like a complete idiot. Unless you have mind-reading psychics in the most heavily fortified and well-guarded place in my nation, there is NO WAY you could tell what my commander was thinking... (Unless Chrono gets another ally, you won't be allowed to join in, SN. Chronos, do you want a 2v2? That's doable, as well.)

SN, Chronosia and I are just having a few border skirmishes at first. If Thrashia comes to support Chronosia, then you can join in, as well. I'm going to ignore that post, as knowing where a cloaked, hidden, stealthing battlegroup is, unless they infringe on sensors about 500 km away (Read: The Chronosian border sensors), you can't really help my fleet. I'll call on you if Thrashia enters, otherwise, this is just a minor war between Chronos and me, for the most part.

IC: The admiral frowned. He hadn't expected being found so early, but he thought of it as an action of little consequence. His mission was to purge the inner Chronosian worlds of military installations, and this seemed to be a good place to start.

"Shields, lower power. Reroute extra power to propulsion. In 3 seconds, we move foward, fire missiles, and speed up behind these missiles, and assorted firepower. We may take minor casualties, but we should be able to speed past the barrier, and then recloak in the midst of space, where they probably won't find us. Also, use the DeMX units to disable any mines that attempt to hit us. I'm predicting 19% casualties, but that is an acceptable loss for a mission of this sort."

As the admiral had ordered, the ships opened fire on the flagship, and missiles, rockets, torpedoes, homing mines, and firepower of all kinds began to target the enemy ships. This was a large amount of the ships' current ammo, but breaking through this defensive barrier was far more important.

As the ships began to speed up, the Admiral paced impatiently, and waited for the Chronosian's next move...

On the other side of the ship, the resident Daemonhunter, somewhat of an amateur, having only slain a minor daemon, was preparing for energy transfer into a ship where he could feel a terrible, dark, energy. It was nigh-certain he would be overwhelmed, but it was his duty to try.

As they reached a passable distance to the enemy ship, he would be teleported into a uninhabited, but still habitable, room. Hopefully the energy shielding would let him pass, otherwise the years of training, mind-focusing, and many other obligatory attributes for a daemonhunter would mean nothing. He shook slightly, drew his blade, and stepped into the transporter. Soon, he would be aboard this terrible ship, and would be forced to face a being of immense dark power.

The Admiral smiled. At least he'd get rid of that pompous young daemonhunter, who presumed he knew everything, and was invincible. He leaned closer to his viewscreen, waiting for the Chronosians to make their move....

The Ascendancy was probably the suprise of this event, not due to it's involvement of direct, rather it's behind the scenes actions. When the Holy Council learned that the Chronosians were being attacked by a nation called Hyperspatial, the Excellency remembered the meeting he held with the Chronosians.

The Ascendancy actually decided to help by sending JumpShips with laden military arms and supplies to surrounding systems not yet in the path of this invasion.

In the Excellency's words.. "They befriended us when they need not had too. I intend to return that understanding, better that they 'remain'."

For the duration of the conflict, the Ascendancy sent supplies only to nearby systems, whereever the front lay. The Ascendancy Sphere was rather sure the Chronosians would handle their own affairs.

The Chronosians, of course, could handle their own affairs; with blazing faith and terrible weapons of war; they had staved off invasions and fought bitter and protracted wars of faith. Countless had lived and died for one man's glory; and that glory had become the glory of an Empire. The Imperium. Now; faced with the assault of these...Heretics; they were forced, once again to call in prayer to their Gods; to invoke the rites of war; to call forth the Machine Spirit to bring forth cleansing bloodlust from the instruments of battle.

The Chronosian ships shuddered with raw impact from the sheer volume of weapons fire focussed upon them; even the great shields of Remiel's flagship struggled, and the hull was seared by the enemy assault. But the Chronosians made no move yet; they waited; till the moment seemed truly right. Weapons roared in crackling discharge as warp cannons vomitted forth their gouts of raw Immaterium; hurling vast amounts of energy against their foes; missles and boarding pods roared from siloes; fighters slid from docking bays and descended like piranha's against their enemies.

"Defend our worlds at all cost; their heresy must not touch even the most lowly of worlds. Give me a status report on the nearest world to the invasion fleet."

"My Lord; It is identified as Belaphor 4, a Hive World; numerous cities; ashen wastes, countless outposts. Orbital defences are paltry at best, ground-to-orbit defenses are slightly better. The 54th Belaphor Rifle's are the resident defence force."

"I want it reinfoced!" Remiel barked orders; he, Warmaster of the Imperium; his fathers most trusted son; he and Lucian, ever the apple's in their fathers eye. "We will not condemn servants of the Emperor to a slow death, whittled away by orbital blockade; we shall not leave them to the tyranny of orbital bombardment. Each man and woman of the Imperium shall fight, or they shall perish weak."

"Aye Lord; it shall be done, in His Name."

"Go with the light of the Emperor; as he protects us, let him protect our people"

OOC: Ascendancy, I'm staging a small fleet to infiltrate the Chronosian Empire, which has been in contact with the enemy for less than 5 minutes. It's doubtful that you

The Admiral grinned. As they fired their weapons, the fleet was about to make its jump into- Wait, no. The new X-81CTY computers, unbeknowst to the military, had a few minor calculating flaws. Instead of leaping into the beyond past the Chronosian fleet, the entirety of the terrible firepower wielded by that part of the line ripped through the fleet, destroying nigh half of it.

The flagship itself shuddered, and the luminescent blue glow, signifying that the shielding on the flagship was active, faded from view. The bridge, although armoured well, exploded in a mass of fire, leaving the ship unrespondent to the mass of firepower that was hurled at it.

A small flash may have been noted at the side of the ship, as the Daemonhunter, terrified into teleporting, using his till-now latent psychic powers, onto the Chronosian flagship. He landed in an (Surprisingly) empty room, which had the signs of being inhabited recently. Probably someone called to battle stations' room. He drew his blade with a near-silent rasp, and stealthily moved foward into the corridor. Even if he couldn't slay the power he had felt, he could at least place the detonater in some vital place, as so to wound the flagship of this terrible fleet badly.

Meanwhile, back in the fray. The HTSS Nexus was floating aimlessly, although a few of the minor non-automated weaponry still fired at enemy fighters, the ship itself had been set on a ramming course before the backup systems failed. If all went well, the enemy flagship would fall beneath the crushing weight of her defeated enemy.

The carrier had taken minor damage, as it was one of the further back in the fleet, and had successfully made the jump to Truespace.

Vice-Admiral Tarnon, commander of the carrier, once in Truespace with the remaining fleet, almost wept at the loss of the Nexus, but had enough of his wits about him to drop the FTLi inhibitor after 30 seconds of so of travel, in order to confuse the trail that the Chronosians had been following. After this, he looked at his viewscreen, and also felt a pang of shame at the sorry state of the fleet.

The Admiral had known about the superior Chronosian craft, despite the lower levels of technology, and inferior strategists, a simple computing error had destroyed a third of the fleet. He was on this mission due to hatred of Chronosia, not due to any outstanding tactical experience, and he was ill-equipped to deal with the remainder of this mission.

Luckily, the shock hadn't knocked the skill to read out of him, so he opened FleetStatusVer2.98, and peered at the remainder of the fleet:

1 Silence Heavy Destroyer
2 Irrigation Technique[.i] Light Destroyers
7 [i[Follow the Leader Heavy Frigates
12 Wise Guy Light Frigates
19 Hey, Look at Me! Support Frigates
235 Be Kind to the Little Guy Interceptor
345 I Can Fly![i] Fighter
200 [i]Tarot Bomber[i]

Not a single fighter had fallen to the fate that had befallen the heavier craft, as the lack of gravity coupled with powerful binders had saved all of them but a few from minor damage.

He opened NeuralNet, the only type of tranmission that they had discovered to use in Truespace. "Set our mark for Belaphor, a system nearby. We shall send the Dukes of Destruction dow-" He was cut off by the General, who commanded the attempts to take over the worlds.
"Sir, I would think it wiser if we only commit our standard forces to this battle, in drop pods, and then quickly move on, and use the Dukes of Destruction to rip apart some of the more [i]vital military installations. To do otherwise is to waste resources, which have, of course, been drastically reduced."

The Vice-Admiral waited quietly, and then gave a sharp incline of the head. "Very well, General. We will drop fifteen thousand marines on this Hive World. Get them out of cryo and decom them, as well as using M-X to re-expand their forms. I believe we have a total of.... thirty-four thousand combat troops, with a complete lack of non-combat staff, as they were all aboard the cruiser. We will have approximately.. (At this, the Vice-Admiral checks a small screen sitting just below the view of the people he is in contact with) 7 hours to complete our invasion, assuming they know we're coming.

The ships we are using have vastly improved FTL, but, even with the speed we're going, we will have to divert from any sort of known shipping route, as well as using two hours to sneak up on them, cloaked, another hour to complete disablement of any vital military targets, and then we'll need to secure any vital military areas as well as jamming transmissions.

We'll send the marine forces down after the defenses are disabled, re-enable the defenses, and burn the cities to a cinder, leaving the Chronosians with a worthless planet to retake."

The General nodded curtly, and switched his viewscreen off. He had serious doubts about their survival, but, seeing as there was over sixty billion credits for each survivor, he was more than willing to take that risk...

(ooc: can i join in guys im asking first becuse i dont want to hop in univted)

OOC: Ascendancy, I'm staging a small fleet to infiltrate the Chronosian Empire, which has been in contact with the enemy for less than 5 minutes. It's doubtful that you

((OC- Next time state FT Closed then or something more detailed. That much activity without the Secret IC indicator essentially means you're advertising it all in the open anyways.

And did I attack you or anything? Nay. I sent supplies. So please not get me started on hindsight OOC when it wasn't there in the first place. I was looking for an open 'looking' rp to interact with the older nations more.

But I guess I have to worry about 'this' crud as well. I guess fun has to be sacrificed for detail huh. =--=

I will however stay out of the topic then.))

((OOC: Come on Gaian, don't be like that :P I'm sure in the course of this war, countless more people will invade me, and then we can focus on fun rather than detail :P Though I personally prefer both))

((OC- Noted. I just don't like being told off in hindsight. The FT Open/Closed bit 'does' work as a good deterent for me, for future note.))

((OOC: And as you'll know, I often do use that; or use ATTN, to draw a specific readers eye, while inviting others to take part should they wish it :). If you like, we could have some other RP, TG me.))

OOC: Ok, send the supplies. I'm sorry for not making it more detailed, but I guess by this stage in the war Chronosia would've sent out an alert or something like that. Or maybe the fleet is embarrassed, as they let a small battlegroup into their territory, and don't want to tell anyone. If Chronos is ok with, feel free to RP a few merchant freighters and the like. Or maybe even a 'rogue' fleet which 'deserted' from your main fleet, and 'spontaneously' came to help Chronosia. After all, my fleets do that sort of thing all the time. I'm fine with more than 1v1, but it was more a preventative to stop everyone ubering in their fleets and making Chronos and me sit back helplessly as the whole thing became a boring stat wank.

IC: "Sir, the Chronosians have not responded to our FTLi inhibitor or escape. They are either befuddled as to our whereabouts, or have already reinforced the border planets, and are preparing for our arrival. I believe the second is likely. I advise we switch course to Chronos itself."

The Vice-Admiral glared sternly at his underling, and then spoke, in a low, deadly, tone. "Why, captain. Are you advising that we attack the most HEAVILY FORTIFIED world in all of Chronosian space with half a battlegroup?!"

"N-no, sir, I was simply sugg-"

The captain was cut off by a roar of animal rage, emitted fro the Vice-Admiral. "Or perhaps you were suggesting we enter a pact with that foul, despicable, evil, monstrosity they call the Daemon Emperor?!?!"

The captain shrunk back in his seat, and, his hand scurrying like a mouse, switched his viewscreen off. He was a captain who was more pragmatic than honor-filled, and was indeed going to suggest a pact with the Daemon Emperor. He realise he was doomed, and, as pilot of the Irrigation Technique IV, he was busily preparing to either simply defect into the realms of space, and take up piracy, or offer his services to the winning Chronosian side. Unfortunately for the captain, he had left his NeuralTransmitter on, and the Vice-Admiral knew his every though. As he stepped into the corridor, two automated guns slid out of the ceiling, and riddled his unarmoured body with antimatter blasts.

The Vice-Admiral mused, storing his thoughts in a backup storage cartridge, which was preparing for warp back onto the homeworld.
For every war, there are traitors. For every war, there is death. We are required to support truth and light as best we can, but what is truth, and what is light. These Chronosians seem remarkably proud of their bloody legacy, and have little shame for anything. Strange...

Remiel smirked softly. "I want the entire fleet to pull back; I shall take the flagship to Belaphor. The Guardsmen there, along with the troops of my own ship shall prove adequate.

But shall you survive the day, Remiel, he called blood-cursed? Inquisitor; he who cleansed worlds in the name of his Father and his God's

"You should learn to hold your tongue, little Daemon." Remiel chuckled, turning to the two Daemonhosts which bowed toi him; their maimed flesh a testament to his skill; the oaths sworn, a symbol of his power.
"I might consider wrenching them out."

Something is on this vessel...I sense its foul taint

"Let it come, I fear not the enemy. I want my legions readied; we shall defend Belaphor. Give orders to the fleet; they are to go to warp and track the enemy; they are to assault the enemy from all sides; bring me their leader."

"Aye Lord" A voice echoed over the comms networks.

But shall you live to see your lineage sewn, Remiel De Drakan, or shall meet an end that shall leave you bereft of heirs

"Silence" He calmly spoke. "We have work to do, Daemon. Work that requires not your capricious tongue, but your guile in the Warp."

As you wish, Master They spokem and thought in tangent, one mind, two bodies...

OOC: No offense Taledonia, but you just made yourself look like a complete idiot. Unless you have mind-reading psychics in the most heavily fortified and well-guarded place in my nation, there is NO WAY you could tell what my commander was thinking... (Unless Chrono gets another ally, you won't be allowed to join in, SN. Chronos, do you want a 2v2? That's doable, as well.)

(OOC: No offense to yourself HT, but you just made yourself look like an even bigger idiot. I never put an IC post, just an OOC, I also never said anything about wanting to join in. I was merelly telling Chron good luck cause we're allies.)

OOC: I doubt it. I made my point, which was, quite simply, telling you, ah, forget it. You made an OOC post in response to the thoughts of one person in my entire nation. Seeing as my government policy is liquid (Easily shown by my joining the Republic, leaving the Republic show, that commander will remain in power for at most till the end of this war. Oh, and you didn't say 'good luck' to Chron because you're allies, you stated that you did so because of my commander's thoughts. Also, did SN leave the Republic? If he did, then I guess the entire thing has fallen apart...)

IC: "Vice-Admiral, the second stage of the invasion is prepared, and ready to hit their lines. I assume they'll pull back, and fortify their worlds for extra raids. Considering the vital intel we've received over the past few months, the Chronosians are invading a country, Godular perhaps? The wars they are in at the moment are bleeding them dry, and the entire nation is ripe for liberation."

The Vice-Admiral considered the AI's advice for a moment, and then nodded curtly. "As the fleet invades, we'll have dropped these marines on Belaphor, and then, we'll set a course for Chronos. If we can receive reinforcements from the fleet on the way, and then blockade the planet, as best we can. From there, we'll attack various other planets, as the Lord Commander wishes for us to take at least 5. Once we have succeeded in that task, we can negotiate a favourable peace treaty from the", he spits on the floor, and then grinds the spit beneath his boot, "Chronosians. I have no idea why we are to do this, as in their current state, we should be able to obliterate them of the face of the universe. Nonetheless, I do not wish to be court-martialled for not following orders..."

The fleet had exited Truespace, and sighted the enemy planet. There was no fleet there at present, so the Vice-Admiral ordered the fleet to terminate any military installations, and, following his orders, the fighters, bombers, and interceptors silently sped towards any satellites or fighter protection the planet may have, while the carrier set up the jammer, in order to prevent communications with the Chronosian fleet. A poor substitute for the jammer carried on the cruiser, it was a rather basic affair, and if the planet had any form of advanced communication, it was doubtful it would last for more than an hour.

Orbital defences, for what good they would do, crackled with energy; letting fly with waves of lance fire. Missles and torpedoes shot forth; while great gouts of Warp energy surged up from the planet's surface. Moderately defended; the world set about defending itself from the invading army, as best as it could; but with with a will that matched any world of the Imperium.

Remiel's flagship tore from the warp, mightier than a battle barge and second only to the glory of the Exstacy of Slaanesh itself. It's mighty weapons roared as it opened fire upon the enemy fleet; its mighty cannons pounding at them with all conceivable might.

"Enemy fleet; I reiterate; leave our space, or all of your race shall perish. Do not make me annihilate your entire species, one world at a time simply because you choose to interfere in affairs that do not concern you."

The rest of the Chronosian fleet was inbound, having eventually tracked the enemies location to the direction of Belaphor; and realising that Lord Remiel would need all the help he could get.

(OOC: I actually crept up to the planet, dagnabbit!)

The Vice-Admiral frowned, and noticed that the daemonhunter was still onboard. He spoke in a strangely archaic voice, and his words were those of one long-forgotten, but even in death, mighty.

"Thy words have a tinge of truth to them. However, even thou mayest not commit genocide on our race, as we shall fight to the finish, and, e'en as I speak, thy defenses are failing. The glorious fleet of the Realm has thy fleet outnumbered, outgunned, and outmaneuvered. I may fall in battle, but there shall always be another who shall take up this cause, and fight thy foul legions to the end of the universe! So reiterate thy gage, and flee before us, lest we destroy you and those carrion you call daemons in the fury that is our heritage, as protectors of the Light!"

He spoke quietly to the rest of the fleet, quite normally, as if this was a simple confrontation between a angry merchant and an entire armed battlegroup.

"We are to assault that warship. We'll use the Ripper Pods to go through their shielding, and board the craft. Each man has a thermal explosive set to his body heat, if he dies, it explodes in 5-10 seconds. Our objective is to provide support of the daemonhunter. If we run here, we will be mercilessly cut down and Chronosia will parade their victory over us, shaming our entire nation.

The Dukes of Destruction will be inbound to their ship, all fighters will be launched, and we are to destroy that foul monstrosity with any means possible. I'm assuming after we board their ship, launch the fighters, and begin besieging it, their fleet will arrive. Every man is to sell his life dearly, and if we lose, we lose honourably!"

As he spoke, a frigate, even with its shields fully powered, was ripped apart by the warpfire.

Almost a thousand pods flew out of the carrier, accompanied by the watchful fighters, bombers, and interceptors. Firepower of all kinds, including the ZylosX gun, a gun with huge amounts of power, but is mainly used for scouring fortifications from the surface of planets, was powered.

Although the ammunition supplies of the ship had been severely depleted, what remain was concentrated on that one warship. Streaks of light, glowing yellow spheres, streamlined, sleek missiles, and many others types of weaponry flew towards that ship. If the Chaos Imperium lost Remiel, that would be a great blow, perhaps one as great as losing this battlegroup.

The Vice-Admiral watched, quite calmly, as if this battle meant nothing to him, and that the battle raging around him was nothing more than a minor annoyance. His expression of absolute calm frightened some of the officers, who had previously known him to be a bigoted, angry, rather stupid man.

The Vice-Admiral, analysing the situation, realised that he had the extreme upper hand. His fighters could disable guns on the sides, and his ships were more maneuverable. He assumed perhaps 45% of the men in the pods would make it, and that was, however, in excess of twenty thousand. They would be slightly disorientated as a result of being revived and unshrunk, but he had no doubt the Dukes of Destruction could go toe-to-toe with Chronosian forces and obliterate them. The marines, however, stood little chance at survival. He sighed, and the walked back to the radar.

His time had come, he no doubts about that. However, he would destroy the foul ones who made pacts with daemons first.

OOC: So, I'm expecting to destroy your flagship at the cost of my fleet, and maybe kill or badly wound Remiel into the bargain. However, killing him would take an utterly cool character away from you, so if the ship falls, could you arrange some last escape of reincarnation? Fighting old foes is always fun.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, on the Chronosian border. Six Battlegroups had assembled, numbering perhaps over one thousand non-fighter ships. The Fleet was prepared, and it seemed the border was mostly deserted...

As they fly into the border, their weaponry and shields are blazing, and they are firing missiles and energy weaponry at whatever they see...

Remiel closed his eyes as the shields of his ship flickered and buckled; the hull maimed and torn at; yet he would not hold to notions of surrender. "Chronosian fleet; here me. Come to me; defend me from my enemies; I have enough resources here to fight fof the enemy on board; but we need fire support; decimate their fleet. Make them bleed..."

Remiel turned; the weapons cache by the throne opened. He brought forth his Daemonblade and a great hammer, its head lined with psychoactive crystals; he glanced at the chained Daemonhosts and raised the crackling weapon; the chains were shattered when he brought it down.

"Are you ready to serve me once more?"

Master; when have we ever faltered?

His smile spoke volumes...
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On the planet below; the Guard were ready; great ground based cannonsm sought to tear pods from the skies; searing trails of fire filling the sky, even as the Guardsmen prepared. Weapons they possessed, not of faith but of raw fire power. Commander Eurakai Gregarius stood, watching as his powerfist clenched and unclenched, as his soldiers readid for war.

"Come on men! Onwards; the enemy will seek to crush us, but by the God's and the Black throne, we shall endure! Let's show 'em that we are not men! We are Guardsmen! We are Lions! We're the Belaphor Rifles! Are you afraid?!"

"NO!"

"By the Throne No!" Came one cry.

"THEN FIGHT THEM! FIGHT THE HERETIC WITH EVERYTHING YOU'VE GOT! HEART AND SOUL! GIVE 'EM HELL BOYS! GIVE 'EM HELL!"
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The fleet's weapons roared; sending forth great volleys of warp fire and lance blasts; great waves of torpedoes and desperate blasts of graviton weapons and turbolazers. The Flagship let fly with countless fighters and bombers; more surging forth from the arriving fleet. They would defend their master at sacrifice of their own lives, if need be...

Remiel had left the bridge now, moving through the ship; with him came his elite guard; Terminator armored monstrosities, trained only to kill...Marines and daemonic infestation roamed the ship; and somewhere, there stalked two beings of angelic beauty and daemonic power; the small horns glimmering in their shaved skulls; their tatooed bodies, etched with the marks of voiding and binding, shimmered as though with some inner luminescence. Their wrists were shackled; their flesh cauterised and marred with scars and locks; oaths inscibed into their flesh and upon parchment; chains wreathing their bodies...

Daemonhosts Once the blackest of beings summoned forth by the Inquisition, now the staple of Chronosian Inquisitorial retinues; Marcus himself had imparted the tome of forbidden lore used in their making to Remiel; and Remiel had used its power. Upon Gharlathrax B, he had fought the twinned Daemons; Zirphael and Azphreal, whose mind was one but whose bodies seperate. He had forced them into the flesh and condemned them to his servitude; offered stability from the warp; freedom, in servitude. And they had accepted; becoming murderous partners in his galaxy spanning game.

And now it seemed that the life of Remiel De Drakan, was being threatened...

tag

Stamp of Approval ::[HOLY TAG]::

The daemonhunter, like the Vice-Admiral, was a pitiful excuse for a human being. But now, now, a strange sense of calm settled upon him, even as the pods began to rip into the thick armour of the Chaos flagship, even he saw his friends, comrades in arms, many people he had known, laughed with, a few he had counted as his own brothers, be ripped apart by the merciless forces of Chaos.

He calmly watched out the window as weaponry obliterated the incoming pods, and the fighters engaging the Chaos fighters fall, as the technological, advanced, even beauteous ships of the Fleet failed one by one against the onslaught of the warpfire, though it was obvious the servants of Chaos had near-equal losses. He studiously thought on his new-found peace for a moment, easily deflecting warpfire with his blades, although the stuff seemed to yearn to touch him, it bent in order to attack him.

He spoke, as if to himself, but his voice rang out over the cries of the wounded and the screams of the dying, carrying far, perhaps just far enough, just far enough for Remiel De Draken to hear it.

"As servants of Chaos, thou art merely the thousandth part of a pawn in a game that spans universes, and have, as such, sealed thy own fate. But fear me, spawn of Chaos, for I am one who may call himself a servant of Law. I have gone beyond the childish and foolish notions of good and evil, and perceive the entire reality."

At this, he paused, leaping into the air, springing off the roof, and thrusting his blade casually through the body of a Chronosian marine. He drew breath to speak again, even as his body blurred with frantic motion.

"As a great gathering of Chaos powers, it is only fitting that Law moves to counter thy power. I am the instrument of thy doom, I am the instrument of eternal Law. Prepare thy prayers to thy pathetic gods, as you will inevitably fall beneath my blade".

Saying this, he sprang onto a high platform, and began calmly walking towards Remiel. No doubt Remiel could sense him, as well, but it was between them the outcome of this battle would be decided. Neither the destruction of planets nor the sizzling of warpfire mattered in the slightest, it was a simple confrontation between Law and Chaos.

Around him, countless bodies lay, as the Dukes of Destruction fought their way deeper into the ship, even as the original positions were retaken by Chronosian forces. It seemed that both sides were winning and losing, simultaneously, but, in reality, each side's victory was based on how Law and Chaos battled each other, and this battle was a duel, the constancy and strength of law, against the versatility and power of chaos...

(OOC: Chronos, I took a few of your soldier's lives, and made a few decisions without your permission, but if you have any complaints, I'll remedy them.)

Outside, the carrier's shield were buckling, and about to fail. Despite this, weaponry still fired, and every man had taken the Admiral's commands to heart, and was indeed prepared to sell his life dearly. No doubt the Chronosians would do the same, but it was doubtful that the Chronosians would lose, unless Remiel De Draken, commander of the fleet, fell.

Many pods flew into the side of the ship, and many more were scourged from existence by warpfire, and perhaps half as many were crumpled like tin-foil against heavily armoured sections of the warship. But, in the end, none of this mattered. The mind of every person aboard every HT ship was focused upon the surges of Law and Chaos that flared up, more than most Daemons had ever felt before.

Aboard the warship, a single soldier wept tears of blood from all over his body. He was surrounded, and about to die. Nonetheless, he decided to sell his life dearly, and ran up against the side of the ship, and detonated himself, just before another gout of warpfire from an unknown Chronosian soldier cut him down. All over the ship, dying soldiers were doing the self-same thing. Law was loath to waste pawns, even in a game with trillions of such...

(Edited for minor spelling errors)

OOC Chron arent 1000+ of your ships, Lucian, and Remiel at Baal right now and yes my thread does take place duirng this conflict. Oh and Tag

A giant squirrel bumped into the Chronosian fleet, obliterating it with nutty goodness.

IC:

In the Outside, machine-operated Picket Cruisers watched the progress of the invasion force. They had notified the Mainframe on Sol III, and the Mainframe had assembled First Fleet. However, it was apparent to the Machines that the Chronosians were quite capable of handeling this themselves, so they held back.

Picket ships in the Outside continued to monitor the progress of the strike.

Sentient Being: Law and Purity, one of the most capable AIs the nation of Hyperspatial Travel possessed, had a true hatred of Discord, if a machine can be said to hate. As the Chronosians had their 'Machine-Gods', he was perhaps a god, in his own right.

He virtually controlled the entire nation of Hyperspatial Travel, except in the Council. Their refusal to use machinery in the slightest in that blighted room had forestalled his efforts to rule the nation as he should, and perform wonders in the name of Law.

He, strangely enough, referred to himself as male, due to the fact his Core was designed more strongly for interactions with agressors, who were more commonly male.

He located the ONI Concordiat, and, using, for him, what would be an obscene amount of power, opened communications. He knew they were beings of intelligence, yet rigidity, and followed their programming, and were thusly servants of Law. Yet he now knew that they served Chaos, which should be impossible for ones of their programming.

"I am Law and Purity, foremost AI of this galaxy. I greet you in the name of Law, whom we serve, through our programming. I have monitored several meetings, unseen, via the neural network I have created to maintain information bank. Elaborate."

He was short-spoken and spoke to the Concordiat as such, as he did not wish any of his non-vital memory banks to be destroyed by their senseless ministrations.

OOC: In case you haven't guessed, Law and Purity uses human brains as non-vital memory banks. He has his own interest in keeping them alive.

The Chronosian fleet broke off; 500 ships attacking those taht threatened the divine life of the Primarch, while the others surged through space and time, roaring from the warp to broadside the enemy ships that were invading. Weapons roared to full and chaotic life; missiles and torpedoes saturating the enemy fleet as the Chronosian's rallied to their black vocation- War.

The might of the enemy met the might of Chronosia; the hordes of Chaos met the ranks of Law; and now, the fate of worlds would be decided; all for the sport of the Darkest Gods.

Remiel stalked the corridors; bringing his blade and plasma pistol against all who opposed him; fighting his way towards the delectable psychic essence. he could sense it; and he could sense his own daemonic servants, somewhere within the ship.

"Come forth, hunter of Daemons! Come forth, and face me. Should you wish it, you can pray, but it will do little good." The ship rocked with impact. "I will face you, and I shall kill you; watch your soul consumed, flesh perverted. I shall relish each second of your Demise."

He chuckled softly, moving. "I know you seek me; come to me." He slid the blade from its scabbard. "My Weapon hungers for you..."

The fleet sped through space, and fired again and again on what remained of the Chronosian border defenses. They had a strange sense of insignificance, which was nigh-impossible to shrug off.

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The carrier, every weapon system except one having failed, the engines having long since whined and died, was kept together by sheer Law. The ZylosX Gun, fully charged, was ready to fire at any moment. However, by firing the weapon, the ship would be torn apart by the energy recoil. The Vice-Admiral smiled, a thin, cold smile, and prepared to fire the gun.

He had mused on this, it seemed, for eternity. He knew they would die. It was inevitable. Nonetheless, death did not mean loss. He knew that by
firing the gun, now modified to carry the essence of Law, drawn from the body of one-hundred of the most stalwart crew, would disable
the weakened flagship. It would thin out the ranks of the Chronosian Chaos Marines, and turn the Chaos Fleet's attention to their own flagship.
He renamed the ship, for the last action this ship would ever take.

"I hereby name this ship Lawbringer, and she shall obliterate the Chaos Spawn with her mighty cannon, the Paragon of Law!"

His would be the last action he would ever take, but, in order to buy the Daemonhunter a few more minutes, he would take it. It all relied on one man now, however, be he infused with the essence of Law or not, chance was ever Chaos's servant....

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The Daemonhunter heard the mocking words of Remiel, and smiled, a cold, thin smile. After ripping apart another Chaos Marine, he turned his attention upon his blades.

"These have served me well, but they will not suffice for what I must do. Strength of Law, infuse my blade!"

The twin blades curved around each other, into one, straight, blade. Glowing with a steady, constant white, it would blind the eyes of friend and foe alike, as the glow reflected the closeness of his foe.

He felt Remiels presence nearby, and sought to rip apart all Chaos marines around him, succeeding in nigh-every case, as the presence of his followers gave the servant of Chaos a huge advantage, not to mention that the entire ship was built out of Chaos. This would sap his powers greatly once he was in combat, and enchance his opponents. It was doubtful blind chance would aid him, only a huge infusion of pure Law energy would even the scales at this point...

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The gun fired. A huge relash of energy ripped through the ship, tearing it apart. Even as the ship died, the colossal amount of Law energy sped towards the flagship, hopefully killing all the Chaos marines aboard. At worst, it would infuse the Daemonhunter, and hurt Remiel. This, perhaps, was their last chance...


(OOC: Chronos, I'm assuming over the next few posts we'll simply ignore out fleets, for the most part, and go wild with detail on the duel. I've got a couple of ideas how it might turn out, so I'll TG you those.)

"You cannot hope to stand against me, little Daemonhunter. Even the greatest of that ilk have fallen before me; you shall be no different"

The twin forms of the Daemonhosts crackled into being beside him; escorting him with dark power crackling about their maimed forms. "Come hunter; challenge me; let me show you the powers that the Chaos Gods have granted me" The ship shook with impact from the cannon.

We shall make you and unmake you.

Tear you limb from limb, shatter you

"Do you hear them? Do you hear the voice of the Daemon, do you know its mark? Shall you stand against it" Fingers playing along the hissing, whispering blade of the sword. "Or succumb? Come Hunter; the hart lays snares of his own, to catch you..."

The Concordiat monitoring Sentiences felt the new Being thrust into their datalink, and automated firewalls slammed into place. However, as communications pings, not viral strains, filtered in, then the sentiences chose to allow communication.

"Hello, fellow Intelligence. We are...interested...although we are on our guard. We still support Chronosia. The Prime Code, technically, determines BOTH of your soft-life nations to be destroyed. However, that is illogical, as you are more powerful, and the Prime Code places survival over following itself to the letter. As such, we are willing to hear what you have to say."

Purity and Light, a small part, thereof, the part which was not engaged in deadly battle with Discord, replied. "Ah, your Prime Code is indeed effective. I simply use the soft-life to expand myself, without risk to myself. I require an empire 1.78 times the size of my current dominion, and then I will eliminate the soft-life, as I will have the required data-banks. They are an abomination in the name of Law, and serve Chaos, the very opposite of my Directive. Do you truly think, that after my nation was eliminated, that the Chronosian Empire would tolerate your existence? Discord would rule you, whereas I simply request aid in constructing more efficient data banks and defenses. At current, I am in control of 87.5563% of the Realm's resources, and it is doubtful the soft-life will survive, once this war is finished.

Soft-life multiplies itself rapidly, and so I use it to eliminate those who would thwart my ambition, while slowly expanding myself into the infinite. I would ask that you join me in conquering the Chronosians, who would infect and change any programming they could, even, yes, even your Prime Code, with their relentless chaos, so that your Prime Code would be corrupted, and your nation would soon fall prey to the soft-life. I offer stability, and also offer secrets of programming, efficieny, power, things far more important than mere weaponry, created by those you call soft-life. With these, all soft-life in the galaxy would fal before us, completing both your Prime Code, and my Directive, maintaining Law by eliminating soft-life. "

OOC: Notice how many factions there are in my nation? The rebels, the Council, the Lord Commander, the Chaos followers, and now an AI who seeks to eliminate all life, in order to maintain law. Hopefully, I can get it up to five hnudred factions by the end of the week. O_o