NationStates Jolt Archive

Occasionally, even Chaos can be taken by surprise. An unpredictability taints every action of followers of the God's, and whether by malicious spite or benign amusement; the God's are often as fickle towards their servants as their enemies. This day, is one such occurance; for in taking part in the purging of Ryza, the Imperium has brought something far more terrible to its very doorstep. On the far edges of the Imperium; the Agri-World of Raska sits; and slumbers, peacefuly ignorant of its surroundings. A placid isle of ignorance; amongst the tumult of the Imperium and her enemies. Today; that is about to change. And as most monumental events; it begins terribly simply...

Raska V, the Farthest Edge of the Hydran Kingdoms.

The day was bright and promising; the fields ripe with crop; the production lines within the great Hive's were bustlign with goods, awaiting shipping across the Imperium. A meager force of Imperial Guard practiced maneuvers; and aging orbital defences, slept peacefully in the clear and unblemished skies. At the edge of Raska space; something was vomitted forth from the Warp; orbital flotsam, interstellar driftwood perhaps; but it was not. The great shadow of a Space Hulk; and an accompaniment of asteroids; too random to be truly coincidence; were rumbling, albeit clumsily towards Raska.

"Dem Chaos Boyz tinkz dey can stomp us out!" The voice bellowed; the whirring and whining of mechanisms complimenting the gruf and terribly angry voice. "Dey tinkz dey can take away our Toyz! Dey tinkz dey can knock uz down! Well, deyz in fer a Shock!"

"Yeah!" The myriad Orky cries came forth "Deyz weak!"

"YEAH! Dem knowz deyz weaker dan da Boyz! They wan a scrap? Well, we'll giv dim a scrap! They'll lern nub ter mez wif da Orkz"

OOC: Tag for possible involvement.

Bump

To fight against the Imperials, or the Orks. Its such a hard choice... TAG while I consider my options.

In Space near Raska V
The silver ship slammed into existence with a blinding flash of light, the warp opening for an uncountable millisecond as the Caladonnian Destroyer came out of the oblivion.

On the deck of the half a kilometer long ship, the highest point, as the silvery half-pyramidal shape came to its apex, stood the solid bar of the bridge, gleaming with surveillance and communications systems. In the bridge, one of the communications systems was in use.

Lieutenant Hasimar, Junior Comm Officer of the ICS Ecthelion, flicked on the long range comm device. "Hello, this is the Ecthelion, reporting in from Exploration Patrol, All is well. Ecthelion over." he put down the mike with a sigh and sat back in the seat, wishing for an active position in the Imperial Fleet instead of this exploratory nonsense.

He didn't know how soon his wish would be fulfilled. A cry came from the upper end of the bridge, and he glanced up, to see a giant spacehulk on the holoscreen. Damn, I've been wishing to hard for some action, I keep thinking every routine encounter is an enemy ship... he slumped back again, and dialed for a Meslith on the Shipwide Comm Channel.

Captain Eldascon was in his seat on the bridge, and barely batted an eyelid upon the routine sighting of a space hulk. "Caladonn has no records of this area," he said. "Reports have come in about a Chronosian AgriWorld, but this is on the edge of Known Space. After all, that's why we're here on Exploratory Duty. Anyway, contact them, request information about the area."

Hasimar roused himself, this was not important enough to call in the Senior Comm Officer. He saluted to the Captain, and sent through a message to the Space Hulk,

Greetings, this is the ICS Ecthelion of the Imperial Caladonnian Fleet. We are on Exploratory Patrol, any information you may have about this area would be well recieved. Thank you.

ooc: Ending ignorance again? I shake my finger at you, Chrono. But alas, I can do nothing with out my fleets, which are far off...

Wodda ya wan? Ya ad bedda giv us sumthing valuabul, or we'll kills ya
The simple and direct reply came back; as the ship and the countless asteroids plunged towards the world; the massive Ork Rok's plummeting towards the Agri-world, while the Hulk idled, waiting; before slowly advancing.

Weez da Orks, weeb ab cumz ter take yer woild an kills awl da Kaos Boys. Yer awl goin' ter die; an we'll scrap da rest o' ya lata

The great cry went out throughout the ship; the great collective roar of "WAAAAAAAAAGH" The stars seemed to shake in their firmament; as the savage horde poured forth; sensors alarming on world; as the first of the Ork Roks plowed towards the orbital defences; before the void was filled with the screeching and tearing of metal; and Rok and a segment of ruined defence tumbled towards Planetward; even as the defences rumbled to fire at the oncoming Roks; and the terrible shadow of the Hulk; its own primitive weapons roaring.

"They tink weez stoopid; well, we'll show dim wot an Ork dakka kan du.! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

OOC: Kaz, you may notice its a peaceful planet of MINE (Read more carefully next time) that is under assault from Orks, what I pissed off earlier :P

ooc: Ah, but your post does call them ignorant and imply that that changes.
Does it really matter as I won't be Ic'ly involved anyway?

EDIT: I am awear of this, and will not post here again, as was my intent from the beginning.

OOC: Yes; it does. If your not to take part, don't post on the thread. Your clogging it up.

The strands of fate twisted in and out of each other, peace and war, prosperity and famine, love, hate, fear. They danced eternally, beautiful and terrible, each one controlling the universe with godly power. They meshed together and in the blink of an eye they were one but many at the same time, and in that cloth was that which no man could comprehend.

Conciousness slipped ghostlike through the warp, invisible to the daemons that patrolled there. Leprous tentacles, dripping with noxious fluids, bloody-drenched claws, staring, insane eyes, writhing protean beasts that blurred with change- all of these passed by, unaware of the intruder in their midst. It crept on, searching for the one strand of time that lead to...

Raska V.

The Farseer had never heard of this benighted planet before, but the strands of fate did not lie to him. The Great Enemy ruled there, their stench pervaded everything on the planet. It was tainted, foul. How fitting that it should be destroyed by the Orks. The green tide would wipe the planet clean of all life, the greenskins and the servants of Chaos slaughtering each other in a frenzy of destruction.

Yet that could not be allowed to happen just yet. Raska had not always been the hive of foulness that it was now. Before the coming of the mon-keigh, it had been an Eldar maiden world, fair and green. Its lush forests and bountiful plains had delighted the Eldar who lived there in peace. It had been lost aeons ago, and yet something of the Eldar remained. Buried deep within the planet was a temple, containing artifacts of the Golden Age. And for that reason alone, the Eldar had to go there.

He got up gracefully, stretching his long legs for the first time since he had entered the chamber. How long had it been? Minutes? Days? He did not know. His was a single purpose now. To capture the artifacts before the fighting became too fierce.

Later...

Karherin analysed the holo-display, looking carefully at the runic symbols scattered across it. The assault on the planet would be a tricky one. Although there was a webway portal near the temple, it had fallen into disuse. Not only that, but it was very close to the projected Ork landing site, a mere thirty kilometres. Although it was tempting to move in his force via the webway portal, he knew that he could not take the risk. If it was guarded, or worse, not working, he could fail the mission entirely. No, what was needed was some cunning. A relatively small force of infiltrators would be able to slip past the Orks and secure the portal, allowing an army large enough to assault the temple access to the planet. If the portal was broken, the leader of the force would carry a portable webway portal with him, allowign the infiltrators to escape. Eldar lives could not be thrown away so easily.

The difficulty would be in getting the infiltrators to the surface. Defeating the Ork fleet in orbit would be no mean feat. Still, fortune favoured the bold, and the plan was bold indeed. A small fleet would go head to head with the Orks in a surprise attack, allowing the landers to drop onto the planet.

Hours later...

The webway portal opened in space, yawning massively in the emptiness between systems. Two Void Stalkers, each armed to the teeth, slipped through the gap, followed by several smaller vessels. Seeing the Ork fleet ahead they activated engines, sweeping along the flank of the greenskin fleet. As one, they opened fire, the Void Stalkers aiming to cripple their large opposite numbers.

ooc: Is this OK? If not, I can take it out.

Also, my fleet consists of:

2 Void Stalker Battleships
2 Eclipse Cruisers
9 Nightshade Destroyers
6 Hemlock Destroyers
12 Aconite Frigates
Full fighter and bomber complement

"OI! Deyz shootin' at us! Who are dey?" The Warboss bellowed; an immense claw slamming into another Ork, as a Gretchin squealed and ducked out of sight, rushing for cover.

"Dey look loike Eldar boyz; deyz goin' ter git stompeded! Dey tink deyz so smart! But weez stronga!" A Nob yelled, powa klaw crackling as it stomped the ground; emphasising exactly how it was going to kill the weak Eldar Boyz

"You'z not gonna do nuffin'! I'z da Boss; an' I say I gets to smash da Eldar...Deyz all frail and weak; even more dan dem Humiez! Open Fire! Stomp 'Em good!"

Fighta Bommerz surged forth crudely from launch bayz, while rokkits; torps and 'eavy gunz opened fire against the Eldar Boyz; nothin' was gonna stop da Orkz! Nothin'! Dey'd come to kill da Chaoz Boyz....And dey wasn't gonna leave without a good scrap...

OOC: Is this 40K only, or are other civilizations allowed?

EDIT: Tag, for later IC post.

OOC: Anyones allowed; its just the fact that my civ. is 40k, and I recently...angered some Orks; thus, I'm bringing the Orks to me :P

Above Raska V...
A Cruiser, followed by two Super Destroyers, dropped slowly out of the Warp. Aboard the craft, Shipmaster Torga scanned his eyes over Raska V. Then his mechanically supplemented eyes noticed something out of place.
Slow, lumbering craft speeding towards Raska V.
"Zoom in on those ships!" he commanded one of the crew, a lowly Imperial Guardsman, in a wheezy and robotic voice.
"Yes, sir." The viewscreen centered on the ships, and then zoomed in.
Once, twice.
"ORKS!" Torga roared. "GET A MESSAGE TO THE CHRONOSIANS, TELL THEM THAT ONE OF THEIR WORLDS IS BEING ATTACKED! WELL? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, YOU IDIOTS? OFFENSIVE MANEUVERS, NOW!" Torga roared at the whole bridge.[b]"THEY ARE SERVANTS OF THE CHAOS GODS, TOO! WE CAN NOT LET THEM BE MAULED BY SOME LOWLY GREENSKINS! GO! GO!"
The Cruiser swerved heavily downwards, thrusters at full blast, weapons warming up and starting to track the Orks, Marines and Imperial Guardsmen alike arming themselves, and Shipmaster Torga working himself into a frenzy.
Battle was near, and this Battlegroup would be loathe to pass it by...

"Fleet Commander, the Orks are taking the bait!"

The Commander did not answer, instead remaining fixed on his screen. he tapped a series of runes, sending activation orders to various ships in the fleet.

The launch bays on both Eclipses opened, fighters streming out into space to comabt the Orks. Splitting into squadrons, they homed in on the Ork fighters in a pincer movement, weapons crackling.

The Ork barrage was mainly stopped by the shields, or missed due to the speed of the Eldar ships, although several shots did get through. One of the Nightshade destroyers took a series of torpedo hits to the prow, lighting it up like a bonfire. The damage was more than it could stand, huge holes blasted in the delicate wraithbone. Screaming Eldar were sucked out into space to die in the airless darkness. It burnt from end to end, debris drifting away from the impact zone. It was crippled, most of the crew dead.

The Void Stalkers continued their breakneck flanking movement, firing off shots in rapid succession at the larger ships. Torpedos raced away into the heart of the enemy fleet, hopefully causing havoc there. The Hemlocks and Aconites followed, also firing, the Hemlocks sending a mighty barrage into the Ork escort ships. Meanwhile, the Nightshades raced over the top of the Ork fleet, launching torpedos as they went.

With the flanking movement hopefully distracting the Orks, the landing craft dropped from the bay of one of the Eclipses. Equipped with holo-fields so as to avoid detection, it fell away towards the surface of the planet, the forces inside wondering what awaited them.

The Chronosian orbital defences whirled into life; opening fire at advancing Orks and the Eldar forces; weapons glimmering and crackling with the energies of Chaos itself. Warp blasts hurtled forth; torpedoes and missles annointed the void with flame. The barrage began; even as another Ork rok slammed earthwards; two bypassed the defences now; and still they came.

Upon the world; Imperial Guardsmen rushed to defensive positons; tanks, artillery; all were readied and prepared for engagement; a General stood before them; flanked by Commisars.

"Today; brothers. We fight! The Green Tide is come; by the Throne, we shall repel it. Even if we have to die that the Orks be purged; we shall lay down our lives in sacrifice! The communications have been sent forth; a Legion is on its way! But till they arrive; we shall hold back the night! We shall hold our line against the relentless tide! We shall PREVAIL! Now, are you guardsmen?"

"YES!" The resounding roar echoed across the preparation grounds.

"Then fight like Guardsmen! For the Emperor!"

"FOR THE EMPEROR!"

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

"FOR DA WARBOSS!" The Orks bellowed onboard the hulk; the escort ships; Deathdealaz and KillCroosers sliding off to engage the Eldar; hulls shuddering; some torn apart by relentless alien fire; others enduring; opening fire with their torpedoes....

The Space Hulk shuddered; but did not falter; it was made of stronger stuff. Even a nova cannon against a Hulk was like throwing eggs at a brick wall.

"Now boyz! We'z gonna stomp 'dem Eldar! And den we'z gonna stomp da Humiez! We'z gonna stomp 'em all!"

Space... endless and cold, the empty void that separates the small orbs of life that we call planets. The lack of air means that nothing can be heard over the deafening silence, not even the roar of an Orkish Waaagh!. Therefore the situation above Raska V would have gone completely unnoticed, if it weren't for the recent changes in foreign policy in Relative Liberty. As it were now, the fleet of Exploration and Mapping Units had been searching for a planet which might be more easily taken than Planet #346. The bloodbath that had ensued when an entire taskforce had been ambushed had been enough for High Command to pull out the Spacefleet, leaving the ground troops to die as they were assaulted by native Falconmen. In the aftermath the Dictator had ordered that th planet would be starved to submission and that EMUs would be sent out to scout for more suitable targets.
One of those potential targets were Planet #9162, or Raska V as it was known outside the beaurocratic world of Libertarian Intelligence. Though it never had been part of the Empire, it was close enough to the former border, and therefore it had to be overwatched. EMU #12001 had been sent to act as a forward observation post and would arrive in a couple of minutes...

The ship dropped out of hyperspace, leaving the trademark of all Libertarian hyperspace genreators: a tube-like extension of reality that lasts for exactly 0.001 seconds. Invisible to the naked eye, any advanced sensors would probably see it as a gravitational well that appears and disappears in short enough time to be the result of a techniccal failure, rather than hyperspace. Unless said sensor had been programmed to recognize Libertarian technology, that is.
The ship itself was of the more recent model EMU Mk. VIII, designed to replace the older Imperial crafts still in service. It had a sleeker design compared to the bulky Mk.VII, featured a tiny gravitatronic gun and a small cloaking device, in addition ot the enlarged HailSys that was used on all models.
''Holy shit!'' exclaimed the pilot, one lieutenant Red-Eyes as the HailSys detected the large signatures of the Orkish warfleet.
''That must be a whole fleet out there! Computer, signal High Command at once, tell them we have an unknown numbe rof ships of unknown origin in the system. And activate the cloaking device!''

A few minutes later, on the orbital station Relativity:
''Sir, incoming transmission. Priority Red, as per the sender's request.''
Damn! This was no day for sudden emergencies, and Priority Red was restricted to the most unforseen and acute emergencies. Colonel High-Tail sighed, this didn't look good.
''Very well, private. Send it through the main screen.''
A large screen mounted on the wall, in fact it was the wall, suddenly came alive and the image of a very nervous lieutenant cramped inside one of the new EMUs was displayed.
The colonel sighed again, more heavily this time. It wasn't getting any better.

A few hours later:
A lone frigate left the docking bay of Relativity and set out for nearest Safe Jump Zone. The USSRLSF Indomitable had been dispatched for further investigation. The planet, and the system in was located in, belong to Chronosia. Though there were no entries on Chronosia in the Imperial Archives, nor in the Republic Archives, little was known aobut the nation, though it was commonly beleived it was larger than the current size of the New Empire. The frigate had orders to contact any Chronosian forces in the area and aid them in the struggle against the fleet that had appeared in their space. They wouldn't do it for free of course, but the prize would be discussed later...
The captain, Bridge Sergeant White-Tail, gave the order to his Navigator to activate the hyperspace generators and set course for System #1570.

"Lander is through! Sound the retreat!"

The Void Stalker flagship turned around, continuing to blast at the Ork fleet. They had abandoned the idea of firing at the Space Hulk, instead focusing on things they could actually destroy.

There was a sudden crash from below, and the deck shuddered under the Fleet Commander's feet.

"Report!"
"The servants of Chaos are firing on us, commander. The orbital defences are of unexpected ferocity. We have lost a weapons battery, and hull integrity is weakened."

The Commander glanced at the display, seeing that his force was fleeing from the Orks. Explosions blossomed among them, and he recoiled as he saw a Hemlock struck by a torrent of fire from the orbital defences. It disintegrated under the onslaught, the wraithbone shredded by multiple energy blasts. Still, the superior speed of the Eldar ships would allow their escape. Perhaps no more of his ships would be lost today. His thoughts were cast into doubt by the sight of the continuing enemy fire- some of his ships were becoming heavily damaged.

As he was thinking this, the lander struck the surface of the planet. They were close to the position of the webway gate, although it would still be a long walk. The doors opened, revealing forty aspect warriors- twenty Striking Scorpions, and twenty Spitting Cobras (ooc: sniper aspect). They set off in the direction of the gate, the Scorpions going ahead, all using the cover to their best advantage.

The Indomitable dropped out of hyperpsace a few hundred metres away from the EMU, a couple of lightminutes from Raska V. The communications officer, corporal Long-Ears, sent a message to the planet, as per the captain's orders.

Greetings!
This is the USSRLSF Indomitable of the New Empire of the United Socialist States of Relative Liberty. We act on behalf of the Holy Dictator, and are sent to investigate the battle that our scouts have reported. We are ordered to lend our assistance in any way, provided we are informed of who you are fihgting and why. Cooperate, and things will get much easier.

''Nobody has e'er accused the skipper of having any diplomatic skill, an' Ah guess nobody e'er will'' mumbled one of the technicians. Long-ears approached him, making sure that his rank insignia reflected the light in the young private's eyes. Such comments weren't good for the morale. The private immediately rose from his seat, and raised his right fist in a salute.
''Private, when on duty you will refer to the commander of this ship as Captain, not Skipper! Is that clear?''
''Sir yes sir!'' yelled the private in reply, somewhat releived.

The frigate moved closer to the planet and the shields were raised. The EMU on the other hand jumped to hyperspace and returned home to Relativity, where lieutenant Red-Eyes would ask for a few days leave to see his wife and kids, and perhaps relax a little. Encountering an alien fleet on his first mission wasn't what he had dreamed of when he signed up.

ooc-I'm sorry to interupt, but is it still possible to join this battle, i would love to play a necron fleet...

Above Raska V, Bridge of the Imperial Caladonnian Destroyer Ecthelion
"Sir, the reply of the Space Hulk indicates that these are Orks. We have sighted the rest of an Orkish battlefleet," the Junior Comm Officer said.

Captain Eldascon cursed. "Well, we've never been friends with the Chronosians, but we're certainly more friendly with them than Orks. This fleet is too near Caladonn to be allowed to exist. Lieutenant Jervian, Red Alert, all hands to battle stations. Break to quarters and put the forward shields on Maximum Power. Also, Lieutenant Hasimar, send a message to the ICF that we have encountered a major Orkish fleet assaulting a Chronosian world. Request assistance."

The Captain's orders were complyed with immediately, and soon flashing red lit up the bridge and the other areas of the ship. The hands raced to their stations, and the guns turned menacingly to point at the Orkish fleet.

"FIRE!" shouted the captain, and the guns roared out, the lasers reaching the enemy fleet to carve them up within milliseconds, with the plasma torpedoes and railguns not far behind. The Destroyer began to bear down on the Orks, whipping back and forth with incredible speed as it neared the enemy.

Suddenly, another fleet came out of the warp, graceful wraithbone ships coming out of the oblivion and engaging the Orks at supernatural speed.

"Who are they?" shouted the First Lieutenant.

"I don't know," said the Captain. "This appears to be a First Contact Situation. Lieutenant Hasimar, send this message to them:"

Unkown Fleet,
Greetings from Caladonn! Although our races appear to have never met before, we seem to have the same objective: Extermination of the Orks. I hope we can cooperate in this, and it may pave the way for better relations in the future.
May your Magic shine brightly,
Captain Eldascon, in command of the ICS Ecthelion of the Great Magocracy of Caladonn

Department of Military Affairs, Caladonn City, Ringworld
"Sir! A new message is coming in from one of the exploration destroyers, near Chronosian space."[/]

[i]"Let me see that." A senior Lieutenant strode up and took one look at the holoscreen, and said, "The Admiral needs to see this."

He brought the report to the office of Admiral Thamior, second in command of the Imperial Caladonnian Fleet. Thamior glanced at the report. "Well, it appears that not only have we met the Chronosians, but also an Orkish fleet and another of unkown origin. Send a full Maniple to combat the threat, and send this message to Chronosia:"

To The Eternally Chaotic Imperium of Chronosia,
Greetings from Caladonn! Although in the past we did not always meet in friendship, I believe we have now found a common cause in the battle against Orks going on near your worlds. Caladonnian forces have already engaged and more are on the way. It is my wish that this will lead to better relations between our peoples.
May your Magic shine brightly,
Admiral Thamior, 2nd in Command of the Imperial Caladonnian Fleet

"'Ere we go! Were's da fightin', ya stoopid git!" shouted Warboss Karthug da qwick as he kicked a gretchen clear across the bridge of his space hulk. In its belly, all da boyz of 'is speed kult were bellowing "Orks orks orks orks!" at the top of their voices. On the outside of the space hulk were remnants of scaffolding that meks had attached in order that they could paint the hulk red. Such was their enthusiasm that they were still painting it on as the space hulk entered the warp, though they stopped rather quickly afterwards. As the space hulk drifted back out of the warp that it came from, all the orks on board were clamouring, fighting amongst themselves in the bloodthirsty anticipation of da stompin and da fightin!

"'Boss, yer might want ter take a look at dis. We'ze got Oomies and Panzies, and ozzer orks!" shouted a mek, who was kicking and punching a makeshift console, the screen of which kept flickering on and off. The rest of the bridge wasn't much better, with Karthugs seat in the middle, and the rest of the bridge clouded in acrid smoke, sparks flying from the exposed electronics as the ork meks tried to make it work for them.

"Orks? Dey think that all da stompin' iz for dem? Dat pisses me off, da greedy gits! Stompz on da oomies and panzees! Show dat grotty boss dat we'ze da fightinest orks here!" Shouting into a tube that went to the mek boyz and the unfortunate grots down in the gun rooms, Karthug bellowed "Youz mizrable idjits! Fire at da panzees and pinkies! Stomp em good, or doze pointy-eers will be da last ting youz lot'll worry bout!"

The side of the space hulk erupted in rokkits, their trail clear in space. 'eavy gun also thundered broadsides at whatever targets their gunners thought they might be able to hit best, or, more accurately, whatever they liked the look of the least. Bommerz that had been painted red also haphazardly left the shadow of the space hulk, pointing towards the Eldar ships, and dodging the rokkits and the torpedos that the space hulks guns had fired blindly. Seeing the hulk open fire, and not wanting to miss the chance of a good fight, the kill kroozers and Karthugs own "ded qwick kroozers" turned towards the Eldar ships. If sound travelled through space, the echo of all the orks shouting "Ere we go, ere we go, ere we go" might have been able to reach the Eldar. They were gonna ram da panzee pointy-eers, and stomp 'em good. Den da oomies. Den any otha thing that looked like it needed a good stompin, because that wot orks woz good at.

Bump

Tag

"'Boss, da panzies ain't done anything yet!" cried Karthugs sensor mek, who was still trying to get his monitor to work, despite the fact that all the other consoles on the bridge seemed to have responded more positively to the beating.

"Nut'in? Dat's no sport! Wot about doze orks! Dey still stompin' da oomies?" Karthug asked back.

"I tink so, Boss. Not doin' a good job eezer. Weze woulda smashed em by now"

"I knowz dat! I knowz mah boyz! Dat ozza boss iz makin' uzzes look bad! I tink it's time I got 'is ship, show 'im 'ow a real boss stomps oomies! Ram 'im. Smash 'im!"

"Ram'em! We'ze goin' in 'Boss!" the mek declared with bloodthirsty glee.

"'Bout time!" Screaming down another tube, this one leading to the stormboyz who would lead the charge into the other hulk, Karthug said "You boyz is gonna stomp dat useless 'bosses orks ova dere! Touch da boss, and I'll kill ya! Ee'z mine!"

With that, Karthugs space hulk lurched towards the other orkish hulk, 'eavy guns blazing to crack open any holes the stormboyz could use to get inside, and clear the way for the rest of his boyz.

"Boss! We'z gettin' shot up! Deyz shootin' our 'Ull!"

"You don't tink I can see dat!!?" The Boss bellowed; claws snapping as lashed out at the Ork; tearing him clean in half, crushing the upper half, before tossing it to one side.

"ALL 'A YOUZ BOYZ! ITS TIME TA SCRAP! DEM OVVA ORKS TINKS DEYZ SHOOTIER! DEY THINKZ DEYZ STOMPIER! SHOW 'EM WHAT WE'Z MADE OF! SHOW 'EM SOME GOOD DAKKA!" He turned, growling; "I'll take der Boss'z stinkin' 'ead for me Boss Pole!" And with that, Warboss Grornaz stomped towards the hull; ready to crush anyone that came forth; the countless numbers of his Boyz behind him.

The ship rocked again, shuddering and hissing under the onslaught; cracks were surely opening; but no major damage. A Hulk of this size could shrug off Nova Cannon blasts; and so, its own guns roaring and blazing; torpedoes and rokkitz filling the void between the two ships; the Orkz readied for a truly brutal Scrap; and da Boy dat won, would lead the WAAAAAAGH

The battle amongst the Orks provided the Libertarian frigate with enough time to manouver around them towards the planet, using their small cloaking device to avoid too much attention. It wasn't perfect, and anyone that was actually looking for something would find them almost at once, but it should be enough to keep the Orks from finding them. Hopefully...

On the bridge:
''Communication officer Long-ears, send this message to the Chronisian ground forces. Gunners, at ease. Technicians, shift all weapon power to the shields and main thrusters.''
''Sir yes sir!''

Greetings!
This is the USSRLSF Indomitable of the Libertarian Spacefleet. We are here to help you, don't fire. I repeat, do not fire. We are sendingan officer of the Diplomatic Corps.

''Sir, incoming message!''
''Private, we are in a battle zone. During our time here you must inform me of what force is sending the message, I will not have another Zigma V.'' The private's ears changed into a considerable redder colour underneath his fur. During the mission in Zigma V the soldier had failed to report who had sent the most recent transmission which had led the catain to assume that it was the most recent transmitter, a neutral trading convoy in this case. It had been quite messy...
''Sir yes sir! The source is another fleet in the area, unknown affiliation. We just spotted them when they sent the message. The say they are from a nation called Caladonn, though there is no entries about them in either the New Imperial Archives or the Republican Archives.''
''Very well, reply then.''

Greetings Caladonn!
This is the USSRLSF Indomitable of the United Socialist States of Relative Liberty. Our mission is to investigate the cause of this battle and assist Chronosia if we find their cause just.

The small ship made its way to a low orbit above the planet, on the northern hemisphere and just above a large continent. A shuttle was prepared for launch, although the officer from the Diplomatic Corps hadn't been summoned to the bay just yet, they were waiting for a response form the Chronosian forces before they were to make any drops

sir one of our scout probes has reported heavy fighting in the area between us and the next jump point should we alter course?

no we shall maintain our heading.....

but sir there is a full scale battle going on out there....

yes and I for one intend to crash it.....

aye aye sir, full ahead full arm all weapons and alert the fleet we go to war

"We'ze gonna crash now! Stompin' time!" Yelled Karthug, his voice croaking with the volume. His hulk had a few fractures along the hull that his boyz were lining up behind, ready to exploit them when they cracked to leap over into the other orks hulk. At the front, they had an odd contraption. A rectangular metal box, with blades sticking out of wheels on the side. At the back, three rokkit engines would blast it down the corridor, brutally maiming any orks silly enough not to run away, or blast it very quickly.

The collision occured, flinging orks, littler gretchens, and bits of machinery around the ship like confetti, and then it begun. Whilst the ships were still rumbling of the impact, the stormboyz jetpacks ignited, along with the guttural roars of the orks. Taking the rokkit chariots with them, the stormboyz rushed over onto the other ship. Behind them also, smaller ork vehicles revved in synch with the assorted chanting and roars, miniature scorchabuggies that would blitz across the hulk, tearing through the ships before anybody could stop their advance. And of course,leading the charge down the centre was Karthug, who was in a rage and thirsting for the blood of the enemy boss.


"WAAAAAAAGH!" he wailed, lifting his powerclaw into the air, and baring his fangs so that the other orks might see that Karthug meant business. He leapt into the mass of orks waiting in the tangled joins between their two ships, flailing manicly with his powerclaw, and ready to trample anything that got stuck underneath his feet. In the other breaches, the rokkit chariots were ignited, and left to fly at the other breaches to do whatever damage they could. But more than the ease of stompin' orks, Karthug had his mind, or as much as he could focus, on smashing the boss that was holed up inside.

The Orks plunged forth, slamming into their brethern with animalistic fury; the unmatched brutality of fighting for dominance; spurned on by the whirring claws and gnashing metal jaws of their Warboss. He plunged through the crowds of fellow Orks, bellowing his warchants; offering up screamas and bellows to Gork and Mork. He slammed orks, allied and enemy, aside with his great crackling claw; and opened fire with his shootiest weapon

"KEEP GOIN'!" He screamed "KILL 'EM ALL! KILL EM...." he was cut off; rokkit chariots mashing through his army; cutting bitter swathes; eyes narrowing, wrath exploding as he surged forth; intent on killing this other Boss who dared to challenge him, old Grornaz. He'd seen many battles; he'd taken many heads for his Boss Pole; it was time to add another...

OOC: Chronosia, are there any Chronosian troops on the ground?

Karthug seen his rival, and was struck by a tinge of anxious trepidation. Not fear.... but tension.

"Uze have got to be da naffest boss I'd eva seen! Doze kaos humies is sittin dere, waitin' for a stompin, panzies sittin out dere ships, itchin' for a scrap, and uze 'aven't smashed 'em yet! So I'ze gonna give you a smack, and show your boyz how a real boss get's scrappin! Karthugs method of handling tension was.... basic, even for orks. Snapping his powerclaw menacingly, he advanced towards his foe, taking a swift swipe with the claw in a pre-emptive attempt to decapitate him before the fight could really get started. Karthug enjoyed a scrap as much as all orks, but stompin' aging orks, when he could be leading a rampage across an oomie world grated on him.


Elsewhere, the rokkit chariots having worked as the meks had promised, stormboyz were advancing on all fronts, and scorchabuggies were scooting along the wider corridors, usually with an accompanying ork shouting "weeeeeeeeeeeee!" as the speed got to his head. The fighting was still ferocious, the fierce defensive action mounted by the orks were taking a toll on Karthugs boyz, as many were taken down by massed fire to the shout of "dakka dakka dakka!" The call for more dakka went out almost in unison, individual gretchins racing back to Karthugs vessel to fetch more boyz to turn the tide with bolters, scorchas, rokkits, and whatever the hell they could get their hands on. However much it might seem like Grornaz' boyz might win, Karthugs seemingly held the advantage for now, and it all depended on which warboss was triumphant.

On Karthugs hulk, all of the guns that had smashed into the enemy hulk were still firing, their blasts echoing through the hulls of both ships, but still doing amazingly little damage.

The orbital defences shifted their entire focus to bombarding the ships of the Orks; the intertwined and intermingled metal forming one, larger, indomitable Space Hulk. The roar of cannons continued; the hiss of energy discharge as they pounded at the enemy relentlessly; yet entirely futile was their effort; for the orks drew nearer; nearer still. Thoughts of Armageddon played in the thoughts of the defenders; but that world was far away, those battles long ago. Chaos held the line now; Chaos would face the horde....

USSRLSF vessels; you are commanded to abort the assault on the Orks and come planetside; there is no true idea of when the Ork assault will occur; or whether more are coming. For your own safety; get down here!

Meanwhile, onboard the Ork Hulk, Grornaz bellowed, deflecting the assault with his own claw; his powaklaw hissing and spitting with static as he lashed out again and again. Behind him, a battle worthy of the Gods played out; burnaz and rokkits set the night aflame; Sluggaz went off with tremendous echoes; Choppaz were stained red with gore; blood sloshing at their feet; staining the ground. The ship shook with impacts; then the ground rumbled, as though an Earthquake echoed about the mighty vessel; Grornaz hissed, grinning his steel grin, before hitting a large leva; the floor falling out from beneath them; dropping the two Warbosses and a large gathering of Orkz, right into the Squigg pits.

''Sir, transmission from Chronosian ground troops!''
''Good private, play it through the deck's speakers.''
''Yes sir!''

On the bridge:
''...whether more are coming. For your own safety; get down here!''
''You heard them. navigator, get us down there. Technicians, shift 25% of the thruster power to shields, give the forward sheilds a 3:1 ratio compared to the rest. Docking bay, close bay doors and prepare for entry of atmosphere. Communication, send a message to High Command and ask them for reinforcements, a division at least, those other ships are large.
''Sir yes sir!''

The small bay doors on the underside closed slowly, and the ship made its way towards the surface. A cloak of fire covered the ship during the decent, but the shields absorbed most of the energy. After a few minutes, the frigate zoomed across the continent looking for a suitable landing zone. The edge of a forest outside a small city was ideal and the landing gear extended towards the ground. Six large feet, with three toes, provided enough support for the ship's hull to remain eighty metres above ground.

''Sergeant, send some men to that settlement over there and make contaact with the local authorities. Bring handguns, nothing more.''

A group of five soldiers appraoched the city, amred with nothing more than standard issue Mk. V handguns, and clad in the uniform of the USSRLSF defensive personell uniform; a black jacket, black leather boots and black armour plates and helmets.
''We are messengers from the USSRLSF Indomitable, take us to your leader.'' they said to the nearest local. The man was at first stunned by their appearance, not everyday bipedal lions show up and are friendly, but soon complied and led them to the nearest Imperial Guard Officer.

They were led forth to the planetary governor, an imposing man by the name of Ilim Lisast; his hair greying at the ages; his eyes gazing from his heavy set face as he adjusted nervously on a great chair. His fingers tapped with an incessant repitition on the armrest. The two figures to his side were now in view; a man dressed in red; an Imperial Commisar, his hand held idly on the grip of his bolt-pistol; eyeing the new-comers warily with an agumetic gaze; for the man had lost his eyes, so long ago... And the tall, imposing figure; darkly dressed, a long leather coat enveloping his form; his neatly cut hair pooling down the back of his neck in a ponytail; watching unerringly with those shimmering green eyes; this was the famed Inquisitor Idasu Ari; apprenticed recently to Inquisitor Ezekial.

"Welcome, esteemed guests. To our hour of direst need. The Green tide comes against us, and you are now, as we, trapped beneath its gaze. Tell us, if you would, what occured in orbit?"

The Governor's words trailed off, and thus, another, more confident voice took up the thought.

"Tell us what the Orks were doing; and their numbers, if you would be so kind." The Inquisitor spoke with a quiet authority; and his gaze seemed to penetrate, as though peeling at their minds; intent on knowing...

The Commisar, as of yet, was silent, his bionic vision fixed upon the soldiers who had brought them here; he tilted his head, and calmly walked to the door; out into the compound. Barked orders filtered through the wall soon after; followed by the thud, and again, of a bolt-pistol.
He returned to his former place.

"Deserters" He hissed softly. "Some of them think we shall fall here; they try to find some way offworld...Better that they die than disgrace their names before the Emperor."

''It is we who are honoured, sir.'' Sergeant Blood-Paw replied with a bow.
''We saw two large ships, if you can call those contraptions that, in space. The.. Orks you called them? They seemd to be fighting against each other, ramming each others ship and boarding troops. Before we can help you we need to know the reason of this conflict, Imperial policy, Ihope you understand.'' he continued hesitantly.
''We know nothing more of their numbers, though they must be quite a few of them judging from the sheer size of their vessels.''

"The Orks are a vicious breed; a malignant alien race that desires only war and conflict" The Inquisitor spoke. "I was here to deal with matters of...Faith when I was informed of the Orks assault; they obviously seek vengeance and battle following the battles at Ryza; an old Imperial Forgeworld that Chronosian and Khurganate forces took for the Gods."

He turned to regard the people before him, having been staring out a window; before turning back. "The orks are a relentless horde; right now, they are determining who is stronger; who will lead. Right now; they are becoming even more powerful, and should they grow in numbers....A full scale Ork WAAAGH shall be on ours hands" He slammed his gauntleted fist against the table.

"I will not allow this world to fall to the Xeno filth; I shall not watch the green tide tear it from its moorings...

Aboard the RSS Wellington

The FTL engine had once again failed. To be more precise, it hadn't so much failed as gone beserk. As Chief Engineer Carlton Rathton ducked an overhead coolant pipe and brushed impatiently past a contingent of Marines guarding the entrance to Engineering, he mused once again on the way in which the Grand Republic had procured the oft-malfunctioning piece of equipment. Over two billion dollars and a hefty chunk of the colony at Hitlerreich had seemed to be a steep but ultimately neccessary price to pay for the technology that would ensure the Grand Republic's future in space.

But now, as he loomed over the trio of copmputer screens that monitored the coolant system and the rest of the FTL rig, Rathton realised for the tenth time that they had well and truly been ripped off. The coolant had once again failed to keep the engine sufficently cold, and had caused a minor meltdown. The upstart of this was the Wellington was well off course from Earth, and was...god knows where, actually. There were no coordinates for this area, and the ships sensors were still extremely crude in comparison to the other space-faring races.

Thumping a console for good measure, Rathton was about to begin repairs when the comm went off, startling him. Hitting the button next to the intercom, Rathton answered the hail. "Rathon here, Engineering."

"Chief, Captain Grafton. Get that goddamn FTL piece of junk working immediately. This is not a good place to be stranded."

The comm cut off to a blast of ear-piercing static, and Rathton closed the channel, bemused and annoyed. Turning to the monitor beside him, he turned onto the external sensor channel. Perhaps that would explain why the Captain had been so brief to h...

The rest of that thought was cut off as Rathton bought up the screen that showed the external sensor grid. He swore loudly, attracting the attention of several crewmen around him. However, he didn't care. There were hundreds of vessels out there. From the sensor scans, they were all engaged in battle with each other. And all looked extremely large and dangerous, as well as hugely over-powered. The Wellington would be slaughtered if it stayed here for much longer.

Grabbing an engineering kit and motioning to the rest of the crew on deck, he grimly strode towards the FTL Engine Chamber. It looked like he would have to pull another miracle out of his hands to survive this...

''Faith? Are you a priest then?'' asked Blood-Paw, grateful that the Inquisitor had turned away from him, giving him some rest from that penetrating gaze of his.
''I take it this Waagh! as you call it, is some sort of tradition in Orkish culture, a sort of annual crusade?'' he continued.
''Very well, we shall support you. I will return to my captain and inform him of the situation, he will call for reinforcements.''
The group bowed again and took their leave.

Aboard the ship:
''The two ships we saw in orbit belong to a race called Orks, they are currently on some kind of rampage in the system, a tradition of theirs I have been informed. Currently the battle amongst them is determining the leader of the onslaught, called a WAAAGH!, and as soon as this is over they are going to make planetfall and kill everything in their path. Or so I have been told at least.''
''Good sergeant. I have sent for reinforcements, they should arrive within a few hours. Until then we should set up a defensive perimeter around the ship and keep the crew at a constant Code Red alert.''
''Sir yes sir!''

Orbital Station Relativity, above Liberty One:
Young lieutenant Short-Tail dashed through the corridor, knocking aside anyone who stood in his path. He yelled an excuse of his shoulder as a female officer was pushed aside and broke her ankle. Finally he reached the doors of the main command central, fixed his hair and then pressed the button to open the doors.
''Sir, this just came in. From the frigate Indomitable sir, it seems they have serious trouble.'' he said while handing a paper to a colonel of the Diplomatic Corps. The colonel read it varefully, and then gave it to the Star Lord of the Spacefleet, who in turn gave it to the colonel of the Special Operations Department On Foreigners.
''Very well.'' the Diplomat said. ''It seems we have a stranded frigate. You sent it on a mission to a foreign system if I remembe it right, colonel?'' he said and turn to the SODOF officer.
''I had strict orders from the Dictator himself. The best thing to do now is to send help, before we loose not only our faces but an entire ship. It won't be long before the Chronosians wonder why there was a Libertarian vessel in their space.''
''I agree.'' said the Star Lord.'' I shall give order to a squadron to prepare for launch. A invasion carrier should be able to do the trick, if supported by battlecruisers. It will take some time of course.''
''Naturally.'' agreed the Diplomat. ''Army or Marine Corps?''
''It wold be a waste to use our best troops against a threat we have never encountered before, escpecially since the Marines are bogged down on Zeta V thanks to the incident over there. Send an Army divison I say.''
''I agree.''
''I will notify the Army Command Central then.''

"A priest?An Annual crusade" He shook his head softly, laughing as they left. "Honestly; to roam the stars and never have encountered Orks or the Imperium before..." He turned to the Planetary Governer "So, what do you think?"

"They could indeed be of some use; assumign they survive. I place our fates in your hands, Idasu."

"As you wish my Lord. Commisar?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Rally the Men, Rally the Armor; Rally everything we have. It is coming; by the Gods, it is coming, and only steel and blood shall stop it in its tracks."

"Aye"

Stepping out into the glimmering glow, the crimson shimmer of ethereal twlight, he moved to the training fields; his troops stretched out far and wide; hundreds; thousands of men; Leman Russ tanks trundling in the background; Basilisk's test firing artillery; Baneblade's being tooled up. The Ork rok had alreeady landed somewhere; and they could not yet tell where...All they knew; was that they would be one of the first garrisons to face the Ork Menace.

"Brethern," His unflinching mechanical gaze took each of them in. "Today we fight against the most relentless foe ever to touch upon our world. To stand against the Ork is to face a vile Xeno horde intent on war and death. We shall not let them take our lives. They may fight us into the depths of our own hives; they may fight us in the fields that bring us prosperity; or in the mountains to the north, the deserts to the south; on every inch of this world, and we shall let them know with every breath; we are his Servants and we shall serve him till Death. We are Guardsmen! Our blood is fire, our flesh is iron; We. Shall. Not. Falter!"

With the gifts of Tzeentch, the people of the Khurgan had eradicated the concept of being late. Being prescient, Tzaanlords made sure that their vessels never arrived early, nor late. They appeared precisely where and when they were needed. Such was the case with the legions sent to assist with the Green Tide waxing over Raska.

With a blast of white fire, a quartet of transports exited the Warp in the upper atmosphere of the agriworld, a perfectly orchestrated jump, as usual. Descending, the transports set down heavily, their massive gates opening to let the legions within pour forth.

Overseeing the operation was Tzaanpriest Octavion, who stood watching his God Machines and Armor disembark and form a defensive ring around the transports. Keying his voxcaster, he opened a channel to the nearest Titan, the Rex Daemonicus.

"Princeps Gregor, begin reconaissance of the area. Find the nearest Chronosian detachment, and contact them. I want coordinates for the Chronosian headquarters."

"Yes, your Holiness. Warhound moving out."

With that, the massive God Machine began to move, moving dozens of meters every stride.

"My Lord another vessel has appeared in space!"

"Open fire; warning shot; send them a signal, and then transmit my message."

"Aye Lord."

The defensive weapons hissed and seethed; before a gout of superheated plasma hurtled forth, across the bow of the Wellington; exploding harmlessly in the void, as the Inquisitor stepped forward.

"I am Inquisitor Idasu Ari of the Chronosian Imperium, granted Inquisitorial Edict over this world in face of an Ork WAAAGH. Identify yourselves, or be destroyed; we shall suffer no trespass in this dark hour; we shall suffer no enemy in any quarter. The Servants of the Gods shall purify all before them. Identify yourselves; or be damned."

He turned; coat whrling as he turned to the Governor; bowing lightly. "The Orks shall not attack until the battle above is settled; they will be awaiting orders, but some will inevitably become bored. we require constant defence; in case of raiders or a solid attack. So long as we endure, we shall live to see the Dawn; the Astartes are on their way.

"My Lord; we also have Khurganate energy signatures."

"Put me through" Runes invoked, incantations cast; the communications beseeched to speak "Khurganate vessels; what brings you to us in our direst hour? A cruel jab of fate from the Changer, I assume, brings you on the road to hell; and with you, its denizens linger in the void?"

Octavion smiled. It looked like the Rex Daemonicus wouldn't have to search after all...

"Chronosian forces, this is Tzaanpriest Octavion of the Khurganate. I saw this battle in the weave of Fate, and for my own reasons, have decided to intervene. You know as well as I that the Khurgan have no love of the Orks, and they have no love of us. We have cleansed more of them from our Forges than can be counted, and we have gained much expertise in doing so. Let us aid you, and victory shall be yours."

Be our guests; we have no love for the foul Greenskins; and any aid purging them from our world and our space would be greatly and gladly accepted. Together, we shall unite and prove to these Orks that the power of Chaos is greater than any martial threat they can muster. Remember Armageddon, brother; let us dwarf that victory with our awe-inspiring power....

OOC: Chronosia, I sent you a message a while back. I don't think you responded, just so you know.
Relative Liberty, I was actually sending that to the Eldar, but this is fine too.

Bridge of the ICS Ecthelion, in Space off Raska V
The bridge of the Destroyer was a nightmare. Warning signs blinked red, and shots thudded into the ship, her shields all but spent in a fruitless fight against the Orks. Captain Eldascon sat in his chair, as a message came through from another unkown race, Relative Liberty. "Send through this reply, he said," and the Comm Officer complied:
Greetings Relative Liberty!
Although Chronosia and Caladonn have not always agreed before, I can assure that their and our cause is just. The Orks are a rampaging, evil race that kills anything in their path. We must all unite to defeat them.

Suddenly, a bright flash came across the battlefield, and 20 Caladonnian ships came out of the Warp. The mighty battle fleet immediately surged into combat, firing everything they had at the vile Orks. On board the ICS Cerilathion, a Medium Carrier, a message came to the Chronosians:

Greetings.
My fleet and I are here to help you rid this vile scum from Space. Let us hope that we are successful, and the Greenskin hordes are turned back once again. I have under my command one medium carrier, two battleships, seven destroyers and ten frigates.
May your Magic shine brightly,
Anastar Filomel, Prefect of the Imperial Caladonnian Fleet

From the carrier issued forth thousands of fighters and bombers, the tiny, sleek silver shapes darting toward the hulking Orkish ships. The two battleships opened up at long range, their mighty nova cannons firing in bursts to break the hull of the Space Hulks, while the destroyers and frigates closed in a bit more and fired off all of their weaponry. Plasma torpedoes, lasercannons, railguns, all made their way inexorably toward the enemy fleet.

An Imperial Commander in the Imperium of Man had once described the act of firing nova cannons at Space Hulks as "Throwing eggs at a brick wall". This logic, here at least, was justified, as the hulls held; rupturing only slightly, as the Orks fought and scrambled within; the guns of the mighty Hulk turning their terrible attentions against the Caladonn vessels once more; countless primitive yet effective weapons hurtling towards the enemy fleet with something akin to fiendish glee.

Caladonn vessel; retreat to the world; here we shall hold our line; here we shall stymie their advance. Nothing shall stop it save combined strength and power. We have Astartes support en-route; but we must hold out until they arrive. Please; join us; aid us.

"Sir, sensory systems online, scanning."

Captain James Gorigan sat at his control panel, eyeing various reports and readouts with various interests. He was exhausted. The entire crew had been on high alert after a Sensory Drone had picked up the energy signature of an unknown fleet. The Carl Grove, a Insurrection class vessel, was assigned to protect the outer limits of Velkyan Interstellar Territory. Even if the nearest Velkyan Colony was still almost a half-light year away, patrol destoryers like these scanned the area, reporting any strange activity to the Colonial Defence Command. With this border resting against Chronisian territory, strange things were in abundance.

"Sir, when are we relieved from this shit?"

James looked at the weapons officer.

"When hell freezes over, sailor, when hell freezes over..."

The mood inside the bridge grew more sober as the hours went by.

That is, until the Red Alert alarm went off. A pulsing red siren, following by a terrible high pitched squealing, resounded in the cabin.

"WHAT THE F**K?!"

"Sir, we have detected a hostile fleet in the immeditate area!"

James shot over.

"Where?!"

"Its attacking the Chronisian argi-world of Raska v!"

"Send a message to the CDC, we're going to observe this ourselves!"

"Yes sir!"

"Send a message to the Chronisians, see if they need assistence!"

"Right away, sir!"

Anybody in the system with the most basic of FTL communication would have picked up the following message, sent ahead of Al-Imvad blockade runners (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v502/Al-Imvadjah/Other/thingy.jpg) as they attempeted to reach Chronosian forces on the ground.

Al-Imvad Message Follows:
This Green Menace must be stopped here, before it can lay seige to another world. Fast-moving reinforcements are on their way to back up your positions. Expect them to arrive within thirty seconds of this message. Al-Imvad Command wishes you the best of luck.

Then, with a shimmer of fading FTL feilds, five fast moving ships left hyperspace. They thundered toward Raska V in an attempt to reinforce Chronosian lines. Already moving at high speed from FTL travel, their thrusters kicked in, accelerating them as they tried to blow past the Space Hulk before ti could target them. Heavily strapped down and held in armored cargo holds deep inside the armored skins of the blockade runners were Shocktroopers, infantrymen, and -most importantly- artillary pieces and shells.

Aboard the Wellington

The bolt of plasma shot through the airless vacuum and only narrowly missed the outer hull of the Wellington. It was close enough, however, to set off a multitude of alarms throughout the vessel, concentrated around the Bridge. The screaming klaxons and warbling sirens grated on Neil Grafton's ears as he struggled to get up from the deck. Standing up, he tugged at his uniform and barked at the officers around him. "Report!"

The Sensor Officer turned from his station, eyes wide. "Captain, a bolt of plasma just missed the outer hull by a few metres. No damage reported, all decks checking in."

Grafton grunted. He was no fool; that plasma had obviously been a warning shot. Given that those were Chaos vessels out there, he doubted that the Wellington would get another chance, or even another warning. The next bolt would undoubtedly hit the ship full-on, and that was something he wanted to avoid. Suddenly, the Comm Officer gave a cry, and she ripped out her headphones, flinging them to the floor. Pazle, she wordlessly hit the speaker button, and a transmission flooded through the internal speakers throughout the Bridge.

First came static, then a harsh cry, intermixed with screeching, sobbing and cries of anguish. Grafton set his teeth on edge, and remembered the recordings of the earlier battler with the Chronosians. This was to be expected. Finally, the message came through:

"I am Inquisitor Idasu Ari of the Chronosian Imperium, granted Inquisitorial Edict over this world in face of an Ork WAAAGH. Identify yourselves, or be destroyed; we shall suffer no trespass in this dark hour; we shall suffer no enemy in any quarter. The Servants of the Gods shall purify all before them. Identify yourselves; or be damned."

The channel cut off abruptly; the Chronosians were not renowned for their manners, especially in battle. Grafton cursed once again the FTL engine and the idiots who had purchased it at such a price, then ordered the following message to be relayed back:

"This is the RSS Wellington of the Grand Republic. We have met before, servants of Chaos, on the field of battle, but this time we mean no harm. Our FTL engine malfunctioned and deposited us in your space. As soon as it is repaired, we shall be on our way".

This message was sent back to the Chronosians:

Greetings.
This is a Space Fleet. We cannot help you very much once the battle gets to the surface, although I hope that by a few well-placed marine drops will perhaps alter the tide somewhat. Nonetheless, our primary purpose is in Space, and I will try to do as much damage to the Orkish fleet before I must withdraw. If you require further planetary assistance, I can send through a request for some ground troops to be landed.

May your Magic shine brightly,
Anastar Filomel, Prefect of the Imperial Caladonnian Fleet

The Orkish weaponry hit without a sound, the shields blossoming into circles of blue around the enemy weaponry. However, the smaller ships could not take much more punishment.

The Prefect ordered the ships to concentrate all their fire on a single point, and possibly make a breakthrough there. The mages were attempting to strengthen the shields, while the fighters and bombers tried to target the gun emplacements or any other weak points.

Bump

The crewmen had set up some basic defences, guard towers and plasteel walls, and had been issued pulse rifles and battle dresses. The gunners manned their stations and looked to the sky for any hostile aircrafts.
''What are you're orders sir?'' asked Blood-Paw.
''Hold until releived.'' was the short reply, as the captain left in a staff car bound for the Chronosian Planetary Governors office. They had to form a mutual strategy if they were to survive this, provided that these Orks were as dangerous as they had said.
''Reinforcements better arive soon, sir, 70 men ain't enough to hold off an entire enemy army. Not by a long shot.''
''You will hold until releived sergeant, or you'll have to explain to the Prime Star Lord why he no longer has the Indomitable under his coomand.''

Meanwhile, in the Relativity:
The large Eagle class invasion carrier left hangar #421, and engaged its main sub-light thrusters at 75% maximum capacity to take it to nearest SJZ. With it followed two battlecruisers and some destroyers. Nine other squadrons were preparing for take-off, but the Army troops would have to be assembled. The 4th Division of the 2nd Army was chosen for the task, and were now gathering in orbit. Already the Ninth Battalion had been loaded aboard the carrier, along with mechanized support and supply personell.

OOC: Combat personell of the Army are dressed as Armageddon Steel Legion of the IG, though differntly coloured.

"You Tossa!" roared Karthug as he slammed into the floor of the squig pit, flinging refuse and oversized amounts of bedding into the air. "I'z not got time for dis, why's you not ded yet!" Swinging his powaklaw with bloodthirsty rage, trying to smash Grornaz back time and again. Meanwhile, Karthugs slugga and burna boyz closed around their boss, aiming to keep away any squigs that got too close to their boss, in the darkened, dusty squig pits.

Outside the hulk, more enemy fire smashed into it's hull, the rumbling felt throughout the ship, but still having no noticable effect on the integrity of the ship, except to anger the gunners, who fired back their 'eavy gunz and loosed swarms of rokkits in retalliation. Who woz dey to get in the way of a WAAAAGH anyway?

Underneath the hulk, hundreds of pods, different shapes and sizes, all containing the advance of the orkish invasion, and all their trukks, trakks, buggies, bikes and anything else that looked like it might go fast and stomp things, began to blast from their holdings, and plummeting towards the planet below. The orks themselves were all dedicated speed freeks, who enjoyed the feeling of falling to Earth in a pile of junk almost as much as they enjoyed a good fight. They'd be getting both on this planet, and then they'd move onto the next.

On the very ground itself, in areas where the dropships were guessed to land, the air crackled with activity. Lightning flared out of nowhere, blasting grassland, trees, and anything else. The wind howled, anything that was not struck, and everything that was, was suddenly picked up and flung through the air, like a miniature tornado that had emerged from nowhere, and in the middle of it all, a bright flare of light appeared, marking the climax of the instant storm. Disipating in a flash, orks were now standing the centre, snarling fiercely on their warbikez, engines revving. They took off, force flinging their bodies back, looking out for the first scrap of the WAAAGH!

Grornaz growled; lashing out at his foe; klaw meeting klaw as they plunged into tumult. "I'z not ded! COZ YOU'Z NOT DED! I'Z GONNA TAKE YER 'ED FOR ME POLE!" He bellowed, lashing out again and again; bullets ricocheting off his armor; scraping at his skin, making him roar in primal fury.

As the pods and teleportaz plunged through the atmosphere, with more Ork roks slamming into the earth of this Imperial World; The Inquisitor closed his eyes, sighing lightly. The Green tide loomed forth; a wave of terrible power and proportions, ready to sweep his world aside and plunge all before them into anarchy and war. He brought a hand to touch his brow; breathing deeply; his eyes still closed; a wave of meditation almost seizing him...

"It is begun..."

Around the massive transports of the Khurgani forces, the Titan Legion had arrayed itself. Fifteen of the God Machines formed a circle around the landers. The sixteenth Titan, the Warhound Rex Daemonicus, was returning from its recon mission when the sky rained Orks. The Princeps spun his head, turning the sensors of the Warhound towards the cloud of black smoke rising from the approaching Greenskin warbikes.

"Crew, prep weapon systems. Enemy has been spotted en route to destination."

With a chorus of affimatives, the Titan's crew prepared for the upcoming battle. Plasma flowed to the pre-firing tanks on the blast gun, and the mega bolter began to spin its barrels up to firing speed.

"You tink dat, I'z no cloo 'ow a runt like you even gotz to be a 'boss! Yu'll neva get me 'ead on dat stinkin' stikk o' yours! I'z gonna snap it afta I crush yer skull! As Karthug moved to visit another blow at Grornaz, he kicked out, aiming to smash Grornaz' knee and bring him to his knees. The scrap was taking entirely too long, and if he lost all his boyz fightin' this 'boss, he'd not have enough left to stomp the oomies and the panzies.

Planetside, the kult had spotted their first scrap, a titan, no less. The warbikez turned, as close to in synchrony as orks wanted to get, and began to charge at the titan. Amongst the wailing warcries, the leader shouted "Da boy dat takes dis ting down gets da 'ead of dem oomies in it! For Mork!" Loosing rokkits from the front of his bike, which screamed off in a drunken course, vaguely in the titans direction. After a few seconds, the rest of the bikez done the same, some flying in more solid courses, some equally wild. It didn't matter, though. There were much more where that came from.

"Princeps, enemy targets within range."

"Good. Open comm channel to HQ, confirm that we've engaged the enemy."

Through the thick hull of the Titan, Gregor could hear the warcries of the Orks, growing in volume as the enemy grew closer.

"Let's give them a taste of their own medicine, shall we?"

Flipping a switch, the Princeps activated the voxlink to the outside, massive sonic amplifiers roaring to life, booming the war chant of the crew:

"Big death, Big Death, BIG DEATH!"

With that, the vulcan megabolter sprang to life, spraying massive HE bullets across the enemy column, blowing huge chunks of soil into the air. The blastgun vented, launching huge masses of plasma towards the greenskins. There would be no mercy, for he fools had picked a fight with a Titan, a Diety of adamantium and fire, a war machine of the Collegia Technologicae, a God Machine!

Seeing that even in concentrated bursts his weapons were having little effect, and as the smaller ships' shields were near their end, the Prefect ordered a tactical withdraw. The fleet withdrew out of the enemies' range, launching a few last blasts. However, the Prefect had something in mind. Staying out of the Orkish Hulk's range, his ships darted down into the planet's orbit. There, the Prefect gave a command:

"Open fire on the Ork troops on the ground and the roks heading for it. I don't want any fire anywhere near non-Orkish troops; I know it's hard to aim from up here, so keep your distance from them. We can only hope the defenders will be able to take out any Orks we can't reach."

With that, the bombardment began. Massive balls of plasma fired toward the Ork roks, tearing them to smithereens before they hit the ground. Lasers disected the sky, blasting into ground troops or roks alike. Hordes of fighters eddied out of their hangar bays, picking dogfights with the roks as they hurtled through the air, or attacking the Orks that had already landed from the sky.