NationStates Jolt Archive

IC: “WWWWAAAAAGGGHHHH!” The ork war cry was ripped from a thousand throats as the sea of green poured over the no mans land. Barbed wire entangled gaggles of them, bellowing in pain as they were silenced by the crushing foot steps of the other boyz, Now they hit the mines. Hollow thumps sounded at, as great amounts of dirt and bodie parts were tossed in the air as if god himself was playing. Here and there, and ork would “bounce”, setting off another mine. Some halves of them crawled foreward, but were soon pasted by the iron shod boots of the orks. Then they neared the last line, multiple craters slowed the boyz down as they fell in, some were impaled by punji traps, other simply broke their necks from the fall. But all heard the crack of heavy bolters and regular pattern bolters.

The 3rd space marine company were manning the lines. Their customary steel along with black designated this. A massive trench line cut through the earth as if done by the knife of a universal being. Bolter shell after bolter shell fell into the trench, making that sweet tinkling of brass. Their helmets betrayed no emotion, only the faces of seargents were visible. Permanent scowls of anger their as the leveled bolt pistols and snapped off shots.

The rounds hit the ork tide. Heavy bolter rounds made firecrackers out of orks, their dark blood spraying the others, making them appear more bestial, if possible. Bolter rounds left many without stomachs, heads, and other important body parts. It appeared the line faltered, but the tide was mearly drawing up its strength. Massive clanking abominations, now crushed the others to get their quicker. All they got for their ruthless friendly fire was a rocket. The smoking trail a signal of death as the Mobile garbage can erupted in flames, consuming other boyz nearby.

The craters had been cleared, they swept aside the last barbed wire, their numbers seemingly undiminished. Bolters were fired until over heating, they ahd already ripped out combat knives and chain swords. The growling of engines sounding like a beast begging to be let loose.

The tide crashed upon the rocks with a fury that not even nature could summon. A massive ork jumped down with a choppa, cleaving a space marines arm clear off. Another fired a bolt pistol point blank full auto, lifting the ork through the air and onto the ground with a smoking hole in its chest. One legionnaire head was smashed into his chest by a barrel-chested ork, who was shorn in half by the thirsting bite of a chain saw. An ork took a bayonet to the throat, and then ripped the gun arm off, dying from a disemboweling blow from the wounded marines combat knife. The officers fought at the forefront, many out of the trenches in combat with the biggest Nobs, but even bravery and skill is outweighed by numbers. Soon the marines were fighting to break out back to their HQ. Vehicles had been brought up, harassing them, felling many a battle-brother with massive bloody holes. Unable to retaliate back because of the swirling melee, they simply tried to reach the rally point. Who knew a half a mile could be such a massive distance…

OOC: Any good? Entrance post coming, this is simply to give an idea of what happened on the homeworld...

IC: One hour before…The slow shambling servitors, a fusion of flesh and machine, had left, leaving behind some fortifications, not the level they wanted, but it was what they could throw up quickly.

Sergeant Matiel was watching the inspiring figure of Chaplain Azreli. He was out there with the men, giving them confidence, relief, and promises of the emporer’s blessing if they should fall. He was nearly done with his rounds when he was seen and was about to begin the prayers of activation for his weapons, when Matiel sought the relief he knew he would not find.

“Was it worth it? Was the burning of nine of our worlds worth it?”

The chaplain sighed , as if expecting this, “Do you doubt the command of the high lords? Who bring the command of the immortal emperor, challenge his word again, and repercussions shall follow.”

“I do not challenge his command, I simply ask was the sacrifice worth it to slay the orks, the loss of all but the third, seventh, and eighth companies?”

“Any sacrifice in the name of the emperor is worth it, but our brothers have sacrificed themselves to beat the green-skins down to their current force. We have our third company in the strategic points outside urban areas, while the seventh is in the cities. Do not fear our chapters demise, even if we fall in duty, the eighth company is almost here. Now, attend to your men.”

It had been like this for nearly a year. From the outer reaches of the galactic plane itself, an ork WAAAAGH! Came, wielding unknown weaponry, foreign ships, and were themselves different. Fortunately, a freak warpstorm severed or destroyed nearly 70% of the ork force. But even then, they were numerous and powerful enough to take world after world. To deny the orks victory and kill millions of their numbers, the few remaining Steel legionnaire vessels would launch cyclonic torpedoes and burn the planet. Nine of the ten had been burned, only the home world of Gryth remained. Each company was crushed one by one, the first was destroyed in the first counter offensive, swallowed up by the nightmarish ships. The tenth company of scouts had either been recruited to battle brothers, dispersed to other companies, or killed. The third company remained to fill any gaps left over, while the seventh were given the honor of defending Gryth’s many planets. The eighth had the last strike fighters, so were assigned to be the navy. It seemed hopeless, but this was going to end on Gryth, and not in defeat…

Retreat!
Sergeant Matiel was determined not to sacrifice any more soldiers. The chaplain and the last squad of veterans had done that, and bought time to get away and alert the seventh company. Reports all over of the 3rd company position being over run, but apparently, the seventh were repelling the spill over.

His personal squads comm. Crackled and battle brother Jimmel alerted them to a new ork threat. “Sir, warp blasted contraption, eight-o-clock.”

He already knew the missile launcher had began to deal with the threat.

A large vehicle with crude rusty plates riveted over its frame, and tentacles swayed from it like hair on a hideous head. A massive lascannon like protrusion where the nose would be was locked onto the squad.

The resulting flash of green light was followed by the smell of flesh burning and screaming. No longer was the target a space marine, rather a mutated version of some nightmare. A quick bolt pistol round to the face silenced its mewling.

“Heavy weapons!” The iron beast was bearing down on their squad, the juggernaut all to eager to feast upon their flesh, he could smell the blood of his brothers upon its tires…

No sooner than the words left his mouth than the blessed sound of two rockets firing off happened. Not even the power hell could stop the fury of the emperor as the rockets slammed into the vehicle, detonating inside resulting in a spectacular explosion.

Then something was released, at first it looked like a winged angel, but soon bestiality took over as the thing took two massive sweeps with its claws, eviscerating a mob of orks and a lagging squad of marines. A soul clenching shriek heralded its exit. This more than anything caused the orks to fall back to reqroup. The rally point was close…


Things there were much better at the rally point. It appears the orks, overconfident, had pushed on and died in their millions upon the city walls. Fortifications bought with the lives of the 3rd company saved them all. The dead would not be forgotten, so they would not be lost…
The ork WAAAAGH! Was in shambles, all the boyz ground side were dead, or being rooted out. Only a handful of cruisers remained, they would retreat, now that the warpstorm had gone, but this galaxy was vastly different. They would come back with a vengeance…

Message to sentient beings of unknown space.
Greetings, I am High Lord Voulden, commander of the Gryth system, currently in command of the Steel Legionnaire chapter. We have suffered greatly at the hands of an ork invasion and are looking for any type of assistance.

Many questioned this, but not all xenos are declared Horribilus(yeah, that’s a real imperial term) and aid must be accepted for the survival of the chapter…

OOC: . Personally I think it's a solid intro. Tagged, so I can post something later.

It was a boring day, as exploration missions usually were. The destroyer Hell's Guard was one of the first ships sent out on an exploration mission in over 5 years. The civil war had made sure of that.

Captain Moris sat at his desk in his room, reading the latest best seller he bought before he left.

"Captain," came a voice from his comm link, "Requesting your presence on the bridge, sir. We're picking up a transmission."

"The source?" asked Moris a bit puzzled.

"Unknown, sir. It's from the system we've been sent to charter."

Standing up, Moris headed towards the door, "I'll be there shortly."

Arriving on the bridge, Captain Moris walked down to the communications section. "Report."

The woman sitting infront of one of the computers answered him, "Captain, the transmission wasn't coded, and didn't need translating. It was a distress call, sir."

Nodding, Moris replied, "Let's hear it."

Message to sentient beings of unknown space.
Greetings, I am High Lord Voulden, commander of the Gryth system, currently in command of the Steel Legionnaire chapter. We have suffered greatly at the hands of an ork invasion and are looking for any type of assistance.

"Do we have a lock on the source?" asked the Captain.

"Yes, sir. Co-ordinates locked and addressed."

Walking back up onto the upper level of the bridge, Moris walked to the end and looked out the window.

"Make the jump." he ordered.

Just like that, the stars in front of him became blurrs of light for a second before become stars again. But the stars were now not the only things in view, there was also a planet.

"Orders, Captain?" one of the crew asked.

Turning to face the rest of the bridge, Moris answered, "Send a reply."

Coded transmission to High Lord Voulden
This is the Taledonian Destroyer Hell's Guard of the Republic forces. We have intercepted your transmission, how may we be of assistance?

OOC: Mainly they’ll need transport to other worlds for reclamation…

IC: Relief washed over the battered form of the high lord, “Blessed be the emperor for he answers our prayers.” The command staff consisted of mostly guardsmen as the space marines were busy else where, but a chaplain was there ministering to faith as usual.

Have the servitors send this response, he was talking to a pair of machine adepts, writhing mechandrites(snake like mechanical appendages) swarmed over the cognator symbols striking the proper ones as they followed his words…

“Blessed be those who help the emperor’s chosen. We have need of ships to ferry our soldiers in the reclaiming of our system. We have few ships left. We also need raw materials, we have the factories and laborers, but not the materials. But we must ask…are you Xenos?.”

This alone could determine their survival or not. He prayed the emperor had delivered them salvation, not doom…

Pushing back the soft nano-lather furnishings of his favourite recliner, Kaptain Hergiv of the 7th Xenonian fleet let his head lilt in the ususal dozed manner he had come to adopt as a Xenonian officer. Ever since Xenoniers application to the ESUS had been passed, he had been given orders to gather reconnaisance about as much of the galaxy surrounding the Sol system as possible. After all, half the ESUS we xenophobic, so better the devil you knew ..

Even with the level of Technology present on the Miak Lineship, the process had taken weeks. All Hergiv could do was compete in the crew-wide Battle simulation tournaments and hope to find something capable of breaking up the monotomy.

Shame I always win Hergiv mused. Boredom was always his enemy. Screw the wraith and screw the filthy alani slavers. Boredom was indefatigble.

Hang on

A transmission screamed through the neuralink. Pausing a thought process, Hergiv converted the subconscious towards reading the message, even as the crew did the same.

Awesome. Always great to see action.

The miak materialised nearby the coordinates, Hergiv personally guiding it himslef. Turning towards the doors of the bridge, he saw two Xenonian marines were already waiting, Their powered armour applied and weapons charged. Smiling, Hergiv followed them out. If he was going to discuss diplomacy, he would do it while taking his "morning" walk.

Nevermind he hadn't had a regular day/night cycle for months.

Oookay. Whoever's out there, we got your signal. Kaptain Hergiv of the Xenonian Protectorate and the 7th fleet at your behest. Now, state your intentions quickly, I've got things to do.

He couldn't help but wonder if they would realise that the 7th "Fleet" was only one ship

The HMMS Relativity of the Royal Makaarian Stellar Navy glided through space. This week's epic mission: scan for signs of useable minerals in the Pygnus Cluster.

It was a tiny ship by Makaarian standards; measuring only 107 metres long, it was equipped with few weapons and low-power shields, and, unusually for a Makaarian ship, no fighters and only 1 unarmed landing shuttle.

The CO of the ship, Lieutenant Commander James Vickers, stared blankly at the screen. His science officer, Midshipman Jessica French, handed him a report.

"Sir," she said, "We've completed our scan of star Pygnus-C-5512." The captain quickly looked over the report on the datapad, before handing it back to her. "Summarise it for me," he ordered. She placed the datapad back on her desk. "Detectable mineral deposits on the first planet, and the second is Class-M, suitable to support life. There are plants there, and I believe there's probably oil and other felds there as well."

The captain nodded. "Carry on the scans," he ordered, before yawning inwardly.

"Er, sir," the communications officer said, "I'm picking up a transmission...audio only. It's not a Makaarian military signal."

"Condition yellow," the captain ordered, before standing and moving to the communications station. Yellow lights flashed across the bridge, and a single klaxon blast informed the crew that they had switched to condition yellow.

"It's coming from a small planet...a few lightyears away...I can't pinpoint exact co-ordinates, the signal's too weak," the communications officer said. The science officer spoke up; "Try patching in the sensor arrays, that should give our comms arrays a boost."

The comm officer nodded. "Signal strength has been increased by 18%, we have exact co-ordinates."

"Send them through to the helm. All hands, prepare for silent running mode. Activate the cloaking device and set a course for the co-ordinates, maximum warp."

The ship spun round and cloaked at the same time, providing a cool-looking visual effect from the outside and rendering the ship invisible to both sensors and the naked eye. It jumped to warp, the flash of light the only available recognition that it was still there.

"More remenants of the dead Imperium..." Remiel whirled to face his father; at his side were the two newest of the Primarchs; Radu Vykos, of the Rabid Seraphim, and Hakar Terethil, Master of the Blood Furies.

"Indeed; my child. They live; and they continue to live. Shards of a greater whole; a whole that can never again exist."

"What do you bid, my Lord?"

"Take your brothers; take a small battlegroup; investigate these....Steel Legionaires. And should they fail to see the glory of Chaos; then we shall leave them to their eventual fate. The great work draws near; the sacrifice is readied. All power, demands a certain sacrifice...We shall have our power soon enough. Go, my favored son; my newborn children...Let us see what they have to offer"

Countless ships tore through the warp towards the origin of the signal; at least 30 for each Primarch and his Legion. The three groups were headed straight for this world; to examine this new potential threat, and weigh its potential benefits.

"Greetings; Steel Legionaires....We are the Imperium; born of blood and Chaos; we are what remains. We were birthed through one mans dream, and perfected by Chaos...We come to aid you; if you will allow it."

tagged from interest

Tourettes
Aggrivates
Grandparents

The reply came as the ship headed towards the planet
We are not Xenos, or at least we do not believe we are. We do not know what a "Xenos" is. But we can ferry you to different worlds, and supplies can be made readily available...for the right price of course.

(OOC: Damn, I go away for 2 days and a bunch of other nations jump on the new guy to. Oh well, competition is good...I guess.)

OOC: Please Chronosia, you were/are my biggest concern before you joined. Please don’t eat my guys for not going over to chaos, I’ve been playing DoW, and felt like making some loyalist dogs “Faith is eternal” That...is...beautiful...

IC: Quickly, this system was becoming occupied, and the adeptus astartes did not have the strength to repel even the weakest of these foreigners...

Xenonian? Xenos? Quickly send an astropathic communication to these...xenornians...

“To Kaptain Hergiv, our intentions are simple, survival, we need to re arm ourselves before some random force comes to devour our chapter. Does your race or organization have any type of raw materials we could purchase?”

Hmm. The first who came...they seek to charge our holy warriors for doing their duties...

“We have our own supplies, but what would you want for transporting?”

Things were going okay, not terribly well, but not bad either, perhaps not as much vigilance was required...that is until they came...

He knew it before the Master Librarian confirmed it, “The foul servants of chaos have come, they’re numbers are great, we cannot win. But surrender is not an option in our duty to the emperor...”

“Perhaps ahnilation could be avoided?”

“High lord, surely you are not proposing accepting aid from them? That alone is heresy...”

“We might not accept, we shall find out what they offer, for it is not heresy if it is done for the good of the emperor.”

Most of the others were with the librarian, but the guardsmen were swayed by the high lords words, sadly though, the space marines were not going with it...

“Master Librarian, you are only meant to give advice, not enforce it, if this goes wrong, then execute me for my hertical practices, Astropaths, send another message...”

“Everything of chaos has a hidden cost, even a helping hand holds a dagger of one form. What is it you truly want being of the warp?”

Reply
Nothing much, just your assurance on an alliance with us, and trade agreements of course.

Hergiv leaned back ever so slightly in his chair before responding.

We don't actually sell things, so I can't give you a positive on that one. Although I don't see why you couldn't harvest raw minerals in some uncharted arm of our galaxy. It'd be a royal bitch to ship it back unless you possess nigh on instantaneous space travel though.

Heh, I see you've met Chronosia. Wonderful chaps. Don't be too worried about them.. They don't generally tend to force you into chaos worship at the barrels of their guns, unless you really ask for it. Reasonable, but just a tad insane. Trust me on that, we have to put up with their inane rhetoric far more than you ever will.
Even as he sent the message with a thought, another formed in his mind, the new data from the ships sensors giving new ... possibilities. A far better plan. Chronosia, what a lovely group of people they were. Still, Hergiv hoped they didn't strain relations anymore. While as ESUS members Xenonier and Chronosia were cordial, Xenonian ties to TFU had always put some tension on the table ...

OOC: Please Chronosia, you were/are my biggest concern before you joined. Please don’t eat my guys for not going over to chaos, I’ve been playing DoW, and felt like making some loyalist dogs “Faith is eternal” That...is...beautiful...

IC: Quickly, this system was becoming occupied, and the adeptus astartes did not have the strength to repel even the weakest of these foreigners...

Xenonian? Xenos? Quickly send an astropathic communication to these...xenornians...

“To Kaptain Hergiv, our intentions are simple, survival, we need to re arm ourselves before some random force comes to devour our chapter. Does your race or organization have any type of raw materials we could purchase?”

Hmm. The first who came...they seek to charge our holy warriors for doing their duties...

“We have our own supplies, but what would you want for transporting?”

Things were going okay, not terribly well, but not bad either, perhaps not as much vigilance was required...that is until they came...

He knew it before the Master Librarian confirmed it, “The foul servants of chaos have come, they’re numbers are great, we cannot win. But surrender is not an option in our duty to the emperor...”

“Perhaps ahnilation could be avoided?”

“High lord, surely you are not proposing accepting aid from them? That alone is heresy...”

“We might not accept, we shall find out what they offer, for it is not heresy if it is done for the good of the emperor.”

Most of the others were with the librarian, but the guardsmen were swayed by the high lords words, sadly though, the space marines were not going with it...

“Master Librarian, you are only meant to give advice, not enforce it, if this goes wrong, then execute me for my hertical practices, Astropaths, send another message...”

“Everything of chaos has a hidden cost, even a helping hand holds a dagger of one form. What is it you truly want being of the warp?”

OOC: Trust me; I can be good. So long as you don't attempt to aggitate me as other more zealous IoM Nations do :)

IC:

"Indeed the costs are often hidden, but I place my cards upon the table, for all to see. I am Remiel, Pleasurelord of the Imperium; Primarch of the Nelo Angelus. These are my brothers; Radu Vykos of the Rabid Seraphim, and Hakar Terethil of the Blood Furies. We come wih an offer of peace, and of aid. We were once as you; seeking to spread the Emperors light; but we were changed."

"We see nations such as you; and offer the hand of ancient and forgotten brotherhood. Others would make you hateful, zealous things; you would hate and fear us. But tell us, were the Radicals of the Inquisition to be feared? Do we not still cull the Xenos from the stars? Do we not still expand mans dominion?"

His beauty was sent forth across the vidscreens; his seductive and charismatic voice snaking its way through the voxcaster...Remiel smiled softly.

"You have heard our offer; we shall aid you in cleansing the Xenos filth; or we shall leave. Think of the Flame Falcons; in corruption, one can still serve the cause."

OOC: I'm so tired of being thought of as evil that will kill people at a whim. I have diplomacy! I have subtlety and tact and cunning...

*pout*

OOC: *overglorified but nessecary BUMP*

OOC: My guys do know the meaning of discretion over valor...well most of the time..

IC:
Damn me to whatever hell awaits me emperor, but let the chapter live...

“I propose an agreement, the Steel Legionaries themselves will not take aid from...you and your people, but I think it would be best if this ended in wind of good will. What is this ‘brotherhood’ you propose?”

......

Master Librarian Thixdor was not remotely fine with this turn of events.

The High Lord must have fallen under the sway of that heretic, but I shall do my best to fix things emperor...

He himself, along with help from the astropathic choir decided to send messages to the other, trying to do it to the benefit of the chapter...

Hell's Guard- The High Lord is currently busy at the moment, but he wishes to know what your alliance is and what it is you want in trade...

Kaptain Hergiv- We thank you for your offer, but we do not possess that kind of technology, but we would wonder, can these...chronosians be trusted?

"I say this; we need not be enemies; we need not stand apart and fight amongst ourselves like animals. We can be allies; friends; not divided or riven by ideology but united in common purpose." Remiel let his words slip forth, silvered words; gilded promises. "You need not fear us; for we mean no harm to those who do not mean harm to us. We are not random and insane barbarians; am I not a pleasing sight? A warrior and a diplomat?"

Hergiv was now wandering through the ship, flanked by guards and with beverage in hand. Even as he continued the lesuirely stroll, he composed another message, an answer this time.

Well, I spose that's a difficult question to answer. Their leader is certainly reasonable, although their followers can be mindless and foolish sometimes. But generally, Their emperor is a man of his word. Even the chaotic have some sense of ... honour.