NationStates Jolt Archive

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar


Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;


Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.



Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.


Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer --


Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom



This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.


Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.



The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms


In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river


Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.



Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.


Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow


For Thine is the Kingdom


Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow


Life is very long


Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom


For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the


This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

''Not with a bang, but with a whimper.'' Alas, if it would only end that way. But nay, the mighty empire of Chronosia and the empire of Relative Liberty are now in a state of war.

IC:

The EMU disappeared in a puff of smoke and vapour after a mere microsecond, its shields unable to protect it from the massive bombardment of the Chronosian navy.

Around Liberty #27:
The Warrior battlecruiser had been launched, and the sscreen of fighters once again protected the station from any attack. Automated wepaonry on the station locked on to everything that appeared on the radar scrren, and would fire unless a security clearance code was received within a second. The mighty battlecruiser moved towards the nearest jump zone, prepared to retreat if the station was overrun.

In orbit over Liberty One:
''Gentlemen, I have just been informed that the EMU has been destroyed. Shall we then send a declaration of war to the realm of Chronosia?''
''I vote for declaring the heretics, and thus targets for the Inqusition.''
''I also vote for a declaration of war and heresy.''
''We agree then that a state of war should exist between the realm of Chronosia and the Empire of the United Socialist States of Relative Liberty?
''Aye,'' the other said in unison.
''I shall inform the Dictator,'' said the Diplomatic Corps officer.
''I shall scramble the Fleet.''
''And I shall order draft and the full mobilization of our armed forces.''

Throughout the Empire:
Citizens on every planet were taken away form their families and their homes, and made part of the glorious Army. They were issued a rifle and a flack jacket, and would then complete two weeks of basic training, ten weeks in elite companies. The standing divisons were put on full alert and told to hold ground until they received further orders. The Fleet would be activated and assembled at Relativity Prime, and the Marine Corps would be sent to the Outer Worlds to repell any enemy attack.

In space, around Relativity Prime:
The taskforce, consisting of two battleships, six carriers, two invasion carriers and a hundred escort ships were making their way to the designated jump zone. They were part of the standing armed forces of Relative Liberty, and always carried the 525th and 241st Marine Crops Force. Two prestigous forces, they had served in almost every armed conflict in the history of Relative Liberty, distinguished themselves on battlefields such as Zeta V and Karonna Prime, slaughtered entire worlds of Falconmen and rebels and had purged innummerable foes in the service of the Dictator. They were commanded by colonel One-Eye and his second-in-command colonel Blood-Fang. One-Eye had lead the battle of Nocturna IV, a victory that had earned him the most prestigious award in Relative Liberty, the Dictator's Iron Star with Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds First Class, and made him the highest ranking Army commander in Relative Liberty. Blood-Fang had served as a grunt in the Second Falconmen war, and had been granted the Drops of Blood Second Class after taking out several entrenched positions, and after that as a captain during the Third Reptilian Wars. After that he had continued to rise in ranks and had even been promoted to colonel. This would be the fifth war he participated in, and there was a chance he would experience his 927th battle before he retired.
Now they were heading to Liberty #42, an almost unpopulated planet on the edge of the Empire. It had strategic value only because it was the last major planet-based dock on the Libertarian side of the border.

“Wars are not won by leaders; but by the men who fight for them. Give me a thousand Space Marines; give me a Million Guardsmen, and I shall bring the enemy to their knees. It shall not be I alone who does this deed; but the warriors in my command. We are his Children! Dare we embrace death in his name? Dare we fall in his service?”
- Remiel De Drakan, Imperial Primarch, High Lord of the Inquisition, Reflections of a relentless void; a Memoir, Book of War

Death exists in every shape and form within the Imperium. Upon a thousand soverign worlds, the Imperial Citizens offer up their lives to whim of the Emperor and the capricious Gods of Chaos. Now, the Imperium is plunged once again into war; an art that has been honed and focused in the long millennia of it’s existence; and the black days of human evolution. Here stands the Psyker, the Mutant, the Superhuman and the Cultitst; here stands Primarch, shoulder to shoulder with Guardsmen. Here stands the united might of an Empire that has defied war-mongers and fools before. Here stands the might of Chronosia.

Within the Imperial palace; where great banners proclaim victory over death and power everlasting; of glory to Gods and Emperor; of War and Death venerated as killing arts. Here; upon his throne of Basalt and Bone; he sits; the Emperor of all that lies before him. Marcus De Drakan; and his council of war.
Wheezing, breathing through largely augmetic respiratory systems, the Fabricator General of Hydran speaks in a hushed tone.

“We must ready ourselves entirely; within and without; steeled as the warriors of the Imperium should be. The Legios Titanicus can be ready to move-“

“Make it so, my friend” Marcus speaks with the allure of an age old politician, the words sliding easily from his lips as he surveys this being, more machine than man, given over entirely to the Mechanicus; gazing at his Emperor with augmetic eyes, flesh traded for metal and gears. Perfection over failure.

“Father; I ask only that I be allowed to serve you.” It is Remiel who speaks, Lord of the Inquisition, Master of the Imperium’s Armies; he deemed as Heir and Warmaster.

“And you shall, my Son. You shall lead my legions forth. How fare your brothers?”

“Lucian and Cabot hunger for carnage; Severino is as always, manipulative and proud. Gabriel prowls the Imperium in defensive glory; Radu and Hakar are abroad at our borders, old and new. Archon rallies the Inquisitorial fleet forth in our first line of assault.”

“Then let it begin; this war of Faith is granted it’s course. Go forth; let hell be rained upon our enemies.”

Upon a hundred worlds the call goes out; Guard Regiments called up to serve in the name of the Imperium. With thme come their weapons of war; the proud Baneblade, the mighty Basilisk; the steadfast Leman Russ. Thousands of men pour into transport ships, with little more than a lasgun, flak jacket and blind faith in the Emperor; off to fight on distant battlefields, to spill blood.

On forgeworlds countless; the Mechanicus prepare the Titan Legions; mighty God Machines, for their divine rites of War; annointing them, making the nessecary connections between man and Machine.

Space Marine Legions equip and ready; from the battle-crazed servants of Khorne to the lusting disciples of Slaanesh; the Plague Marines of Nurgle to the Sorcerors of Tzeentch; all are readied; all are willing. They will set out; and the very galaxy will burn in the fires of their tumult. By steel and flame; it shall be purged...

The task force reached its target: the small planet of Liberty #42. Aboard the invasion carrier Genocide the marines of the 525th looked down upon the barren world, the entire planet was a desert where storms lasted for centuries and where the air was unbreathable. Great volcanoes spat ash and fire, looking like hordes of illuminated spots from orbit. And then the drop began.
The dropships resembled 20th century storage containers with wings, almost cubic and sporting small gravitronic guns mounted in ball turrets on the sides. They were launched from the invasion carriers Indomtable and Genocide in scores, but it would still take time to deploy the 6250 men of the 525th and the 241st Forces, not including support personell. As the dropships landed outside the bandoned outpost, the soldiers hurried to man the station and set a temporary camp on a nearby hill. Mechanized support would arrive later, along with the rest of the troops. And thus, the 525th and the 241st prepared for war...

Relativity Prime:
''Sir, I have received news that the 525th and 241st have reached their target and are about to construct temporary defences.''
''Good lieutenent. You may leave,'' the colonel replied.
''Gentlemen, you heard the news: our forward forces are almost ready. Now for phase two,'' he continued.
''I will give the order to launch the operators,'' said the SODIF officer.
''Good. When will the mobilization of the Army be finished, and more importantly, when will the draft be finished? We need all the troops were can spare.''
''Latest reports indicate between two to three weeks. Longer for the elites such as 501st and 406th. They will be ready in time.''
''I do not dpubt your zeal or your faith colonel, but we need those troops ASAP.''
''I guess I could give the order to shorten the training fro the troops in the Outer Worlds, but they will have drastically reduced combat effectiveness.''
''Issue the order then, colonel.''

Outer Worlds:
The planetary defences were online, shields were raised and the population organized into home defence forces. On the most loyal planets at least, on a few worlds the goverments announced that they left the Empire and declared independance. On other worlds the draft continued as every man able to hold a rifle was ordered to report ot nearest recruitng station and complete basic training.

In space:
The tiny craft docked with the supply buoy. As the food was brought aboard by small drones, the operator received a message on his HailSys, thorugh a secure channel. He read his orders, re-read them and jettisoned the food. The craft left the buoy and set forth through space, boldly going where no lion has gone before. Throughout the Empire, several operators received the same orders: they were activated to serve in the name of the Dictator. They all donned their space suits, lowered the shields and got a rifle. They climbed out into the empty void and fired a few shots on their own vessel, and then returning. Raising shields and making sure that nothing important had ben hit, they activated the hyperspace engine and set course for Chronosia.

The borders of the Imperium stretched out like an impregnable wall; defence stations and border stations fortified; mines and drones littering the void; as ships gathered and amassed; readying for the vast endeavor that this war would be. Ships stretched forth in each and every direction, thousands of vessels gathered for transport or war; the immense fleets of the Imperium brought here; to ready in defence or war. Faster than Light Inhibitor fields littered the systems; notably the borders.

"Let them come" The Warmaster had proclaimed "We shall set forth and show them the face of their own mortality; we shall bring them death and Chaos; we shall show them the face of the gods; as we liberate eyes from skulls; and skulls from bodies" And so they had went forth; the entire Imperium, readied for war.

Opening Blows, Libertarian Borders

The vast god machines had appear as though from nowhere; the mighty Titans of the Titan Legions; designated as Cruor Vult model Khornate Titans; an immense Volcano cannon dwarfed its right arm; while the left held a plasma cannon; the shoulders and back gleaming with missle pods. As the three Titans began their primary attack run; they set their sights on menacing one of the outer worlds; readying their weapons for combat; already firing off the first shots; while they advanced; the immense War-Machines wishing nothing more than to plunge through the atmosphere and unleash Hell; as they had undoubtedly done for Millennia.

The powerful barrage of the Titans smashed into the ground a kilometre south of the base. The OPs spotted several gargantuan mechs appearing over the horizon, and reported their position to Forward Command before they were obliterated by the rain of fire.

White founts falling in the courts of the sun
And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run

The assault caught Forward Command off-guard, and the shields were raised just in time to intercept most of the second salvo. One shot got through and slammed into a group of structures, and a group of communications officers were vaporized, and a nearby barrack was razed to the ground as the shockwave proved too much for the hastily constructed building.

There is laughter like the fountains in that face of all men feared
It stirs the forest darkness, the darkness of his beard
It curls the blood-red crescent, the crescent of his lips
For the inmost sea of all the Earth is shaken with his ships.
They have dared the white republics up the capes of Italy
They have dashed the Adriatic round the Lion of the Sea

The marines, although shaken by this sudden display of power, manned their stations. Political comissars made sure that no man tried to leave his post, or run for cover like a weak heretic. Counter-battery fire was ordered by One-Eye, and the Mk. VI MLRSs rallied to form up in formation and triangulating the positions of the Titans. Within seconds over a thousand warheads rocketed to the sky, propelled by Comet rockets and guided by an onboard computer. A few seconds later they would hit their target, and hopefully annihilate them in the name of the Holy Dictator of the United Socialist States of Relative Liberty.

And the Pope has cast his arms abroad for agony and loss
And called the kings of Christendom for swords about the Cross

1st Task Force, consisting of the battleships Harbinger and Doom, the carriers Juvenile, Warrior, Crusader, Dictator, Relative Liberty and Warspite, the invasion carriers Indomtiable and Genocide and hundreds of escort craft, were in orbit around the planet when the Titans attacked. They had not formed up in a geo-synchronized formation, but instead orbiting around the planet to guard against surprise attacks. Unfortunately they had been on the far side of the planet when the attack happened, and thus the loss of radio contact with the base did not come as a surprise. When they had cleared the dark side and once again were about to establish communications with the base, the planetary shields blocked any attempts to communicate. Blood-Fang ordered the task force to break formation and the individual ships would take the closest route to a geo-synchronized orbit above the marines' base. The attack had been a complete surprise, and they had to react fast if the enemy was to be stopped from overwhelming them with a whole invasion force, now that the Chronosians had discovered their location.

The cold queen of negland is looking in the glass
The shadow of the Valois is yawning at the mass
From evening isles fantastical rings faint the Spanish guns
And the Lord upon the Golden Horne is laughing in the sun

Meanwhile the SODOF operatives had reached the Chronosian border, in groups of two to three or alone. They had their orders and had made the necessary preparations; their ships carried the scars of battle, and they did not fly the colours of the Libertarian Space Fleet. Instead they were matt red and white, the colours of the damned rebels that fought the Dictator in Relative Liberty. The rebels had been formed by the remnants of the Council after the Dictator's revolution, and had employed geurilla warfare to liberate system after system in the northern provinces,but had always been kept at bay by the might of the Space Fleet.
''Chronosian border guards, this is sergeant White-eye of the Democratic People's Army, the resistance in Relative Liberty. Take us to your leader.''
This message was repeated, with slight modifications so that every rebel had his own name and number, throughout Chronosian space.

Dim drums throbbing, in the hills half heard
Where only on a nameless throne a crownless prince has stirred
Where, risen from a doubtful seat and half attainted stall,
The last knight of Europe takes weapons from the wall
The last and lingering troubadour to whom the bird has sung
That once went singing southward when all the world was young

Back on Relativity Prime the High Command had been notified of the surprise attack.
''The Chronosians have proved capable of penetrating our border defences and mounting a surpsise attack against our forward forces. Our entire operational doctrine relies on the assumption that our forces are alerted well before any enemies can come to them. We must resort to unconventional warfare if we are to win this, they have the advantage in numbers now.''
''I disagree, this was only an isolated incident. It would be foolish to suggest that we change our operational doctrine because a minor enemy force was lucky enough to attack when the fleet was on the far side of the planet.''
''I agree with the colonel of the Army. There is little chance the enemy can repeat this feat now that we are aware of their cowardly tactic.''
''Gentlemen, you are in majority and your decision will be final. Though I am bound to do as you say for now, I am convinced that we will lose this war if we rely on ancient tactics.''
''Tactics that have been proven to be right over and over agian, throughout the eons. Who are you to question what our finest military thinkers have devloped over thousands of years?''
''Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the war room!''
''Excuse me, colonel. I overeacted.''
''Excuse me, colonel. I were wrong to question the doctrine based on one single incident.''
''Very well, we still need to decide what to do next,'' stated the SODOF officer.
''I vote for sending reinforcements. Use the marine Corps to stall enemy advancement by holding key positions, and then deploy the Army to push the enemy back.''
''I agree with my comrade.''
''The military council then decides to continue according to protocol, paragraph #27.''

In that enormous silence, tiny and unafraid,
Comes up a winding road the noise of the Crusade
Strong gongs groaning as the guns boom far
Don John of Austria is going to the war
Stiff flags straining in the night-blasts cold
In the gloom black-purple, in the glint old-gold,
Torchlight crimson on the copper kettle-drums, Then the tuckets, then the trumpets, then the cannon, and he comes.
Don John laughing in the brave beard curled,
Spurning of his stirrups like the thrones of all the world,
Holding his head up for a flag of all the free.
Love-light of Spain—hurrah!
Death-light of Africa!
Don John of Austria is riding to the sea.

OOC: Bump

The Titans continued their barrage; even as the missles truck; void shields flaring as the explosions rocked about them, energy surging through the fray; as countless more missles were torn asunder by Titan fire; but not all of them could endure. One knelt, leg faltering beneath it's weight; and fell; slumping, energy crackling through it's ruined hull; the Machine Spirits and Daemon conciousness within dying out in the infinite fires of Libertarian Wrath. The other two endured, lashign out with full fury; weapons howling like the hounds of Hell; missiles hurtling forth in righteous fury and vengence. The Imperium would not be denied; not would it stop at so small an onslaught

Chronosian border defences whirled into action; FTLi fields opening and closing like nets around their prey; warp cannons, missile siloes and torpedo tubes roaring to life; trained upon these infidels in their space; no chances would be taken, no mercy shown; only death to their enemies. Their arrogant, blasphemous foes, who would now burn in the fires of the Warp.

Above the war torn world where the Titan's were fighting, 500 ships tore free from the Immaterium; their hulls gleaming with weapons and eldritch runes; their weapons turning to fire upon the fleet that was circling round from the far side. Upon the deck of the largest vessel; stood Lucian, Primarch; Servant of Nurgle and bringer of Death. He chuckled, a gurgling rising in his throat as he reached out to cup the world image in one clawed, ornate gauntlet, power claw. "Bring it to it's knees" He hissed.

Weapons roared to life once more; not only missles and blasts destined for the fleet; but barrages of viral bombs, hurtling towards the world. Through the armageddon rain there came Dreadclaw assault pods; searing the skies as they slammed towards the Earth; containing their tainted Cargo of Plague Marines; their phlegm laiden bellows echoing through the void as they readed for Combat. Nurgle's taint would ruin this world; and all upon it; they would bring the opening blows of this terrible war. None would survive.

Lucian chuckled again; a gurgling, hissing sound that rang out as though he were choking, instead of laughing. He moved forward, his great Scythe in hand; the shaft hitting the ground as he watched the horror now unfolding; still choke-laughing...

It did not stop for some time.

The troopers cheered as one of the Titans were destroyed by the rain of missiles fired by the Mk. VI (A3) MLRS, and fought with renewed strength. Stationary defences, as well as MBTs and SPATGs opened fire as the Titans came closer, aiming at the hips and cockpits of the giant mechs.

The fleet in orbit turned to face this new threat, and formed a crued battle formation. The carriers in the middle, with the two battleships on the diagonals and the escort craft forming a protective sphere around them. More than three thousand fighter/bombers circled around the ships, and almost eight hundred boarding craft were preparing to rush at the enemy capital ships.
Gravitronic guns came to bear, creating huge gravitational anomalies right next to the enemy ships to tear them apart. The mighty super-heavy guns of the battleships trageted what looked like the enemy flagship and fired. Battlecruisers and light cruisers laid down covering fire, while the two wings of fighters sped forward to attack the enemy flanks. Missile cruisers jumped to hyperspace, appearing behind the enemy fleet and firing their deadly cargo at the enemy's escort craft.

The enemy drop pods were met with AA fire from the SPAAs of the 525th and 241st, but many yet came through. The planetary shields were unable to resist the might of the Chronosian orbital bombardment and soon faltered. Fire and brimstone came raining down on the marines, who sought cover in bunkers and underground shelters. Many didn't make it, and were vaporized as the enemy barrage continued, or killed by the deadly cargo of the viral bombs.


The operatives begged for mercy, telling the Chronosians that they were not there to fight but to help them destroy the Dictator. Many of them fled, but some stayed to tell the Chronosians of the underground resistance, that they were sent to help them vanquish the Spacefleet.
They were annihilated.

Marines roared in bestial triumph; their weapons caked in mud and blood and foul ichors of their own bodies as they plunged against the enemies; their bolters whirring, firing on and on and on; a ceaseless legacy of brutality and pain. They fell, some of them faltering; others firing, on and on till enemy fire cut them down; even as the world was lain to waste; a helmet torn aside; revealing the pestilant, pustule marred face of a Plague Marine; spitting disease ridden phlegm at his enemies. The skies rained fire; to the left, a drop pod exploded in firey debris; while bombs sundered the earth itself to the right; an immense explosion all about them; as a world became terraformed to Hell...

The fleet rocked; some drawn into the gravitational anomolies; others torn asunder by the edges; while many still endured; their hulls ready; their weapons primed; moving swiftly into a standard defensive pattern about the flagship; weapons fire tearing into them as they sought to save their great Master; and bring Nurgle's wrath upon their foul enemies. The first wave of counter offence came like a sundering blow; lightning from a clear sky; graviton warheads discharged into the midst of the enemy fleet; fusion bombs let fly in blackest hatred; warp cannons hurtling forth in immense waves of coruscating Warp Energy; nothing would stop them; not here; not even with horrific losses. They would endure; they were the Imperium...They would know no fear.

The defence stations ignored the piteous cries; firing on and on; they needed no rebel dogs to aid them; they needed no heretics amongst heretics; they would fight on, and Chaos would win this day. The Libertarians would rue the day they crossed the Imperium; and weep at the futility of their overblown arrogance; the supposition of ruling the galaxy would lead to the death of so many.

And the Imperium cherished that thought

Relativity:
''Sir, we've lost contact with the operatives. It seems as if the Chronoisans were unwilling to reive aid.''
''What now?''
''We'll have to act swiftly if we are to survive. All SODOF operations need to be cancelled in favour of fighting the Chronoisans.''
''Impossible! It has taken us years to infilitrate the resistance, even longer to gain the trust of the Falconmen. we cannot abort all of those mission now!''
''Yet you have to cancel those operations. If you do not, I'll have to take this to the Dictator himself.''
The colonel opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again.
''Very well. Operations shall be cancelled, and the Omega force activated. I hope you know what you're doing.''

Throughout the Empire operatives of the SODOF abandoned their posts to rally in Relativity. Operatives who had spent years, even decades, to infiltrate the resistance were called back, agents who had been stationed on Falcon planets were withdrawn, leaving the Falconmen alone to face the might of the Lizards.
They would gather and regroup, to function according to Protocol §125:5.


On the planet's surface, the marines began to fire out of their bunkers, trying to stay in cover. Heavy machine guns were brought to bear, and assault guns were fired at the scores of enemy infantry. MBTs turned to face this new threat, and they were joined by mechanized walkers sporting flamethrowers and automatic guns.
Sergeant Blue-Tooth mounted a counter-attack and the twenty-five marines under his command charged out of their bunker, and towards the enemy. Pulse rifles spat fire at the enemy and underbarrel greande launchers were fired intop the midst of the attackers. As the plasma grenades detonated, the marines drew their force swords and closed in to engage the enemy hand-to-hand. Machine gun fire cut into the enemy horde as the infantry charged home, grenades detonated and the crack of rifle fire was deafening. Artillery pounded the earth outside the walls, hoping to inflict some casualties on any Chronosian forces there, MBTs fired shrapnel rounds at the enemy and mechs advanced to outflank them.

Light cruisers were torn apart by the firepower of the Chronosian fleet, and a battlecruiser exploded into a fire ball the size of an average city as the shields fell and the hull was cracked open by the enemy barrage. Retaliation was swift and mecriless; the fighter wings attacked the enemy in a classic pincer move, the battleships fired their super-heavy guns once again and battlecruisers engaged the enemy escorts. Boarding craft were launched and, protected by heavy covering fire, advanced towards the Chronosian flagship. The missile cruisers jumped back into hyperspace, to appear within the protective sphere of the Libertarian fleet.

Bullets richoceted off of ceramite armor with no more than a scratch; warriors tore through walls of blinding flame, and the hellish heat of orbital bombardment; green armored juggernauts through the firestorm; lighted to look like devils by the raging infernoes. Many more fell, torn asunder by the sheer force of the Emperor's foes; but they would never falter. Predator tanks and the screaming armored sarcophagi of Dreadnaughts tore through the fray; autocannon and lascannon roaring in primal lust for death and battle. All about them; bodies stank and smoldered; Nurgle-marked plague flies annointed the bodies. All drew silent as a great warrior materialised amongst the carnage.

Lucian.

Lucian De Drakan, left hand of the Emperor; deemed Servant of Nurgle; blessed of the Plague God; PlagueLord of the Imperium. His great armor gleamed in sickly grandeur; annointed in blood and ichor and pus; he strode forward, swinging the crackling, warp-tainted scythe; it's edge seeping with rot and disease; his foul laughter upon the wind; as countless flies and insects spilled forth from his Armor; he, the Avatar of the consuming Destroyer.

All about the world; death unfolded like charnel flowers; blood nurturing their fetid roots. All about them; hell was loosed by mortal hands; the Gods would not be denied their prize.

High above; the fleets of the Master of Mankind fought onwards; weapons roaring, as shields flared and then tore asunder; ships falling into void and shadow. The boarding pods were being shot down; fighters dotting the void in suicidal maneuvers; tearing forth against the enemies of the Imperium. The Pestilant Pleasure had slid back; avoiding the pods; leaving them to assault its defenders.

Upon the Chronosian vessels, defence forces ran to their stations; bolter turrets lined the corridors; ready to cleanse and purge; the battatlions of Marines and Imperial Guardsmen ready to fight and die for their Emperor. They waited now; weapons readied; trigger fingers itching to do their foul deed; All around war beckoning in sable colored clothes; what could they do but take his hand?

OOC: Do you have MSN or any form of messenger, btw?

OOC: I don't, but I could TG you my e-mail address.

IC coming after supper.

The endless wall of plague marines forced the defenders back, one step at a time. Liberty tanks were crushed by the armoured fists of Dreadnoughts, or molten by meltaguns and lascannons, mechs were demolished as the sheer mass of the enemy horde was enough to knock them off their feet when the enemy charged. The marines' armour stopped some of the bolter rounds but no manmade armour can withstand 20mm HE rounds for long, and they fell one by one. Determined to not giving the enemy an easy victory however, they pushed on. Swords drawn, pulse rifles firing plasma rounds, handguns blasting and the ra-ta-ta of LMGs ringing in their ears accompanied by the battle hymns of the officers, they pushed on. In the name of the Dictator, they pushed on.

The first wave of boarding crafts was nearly annihilated, but some managed to get through. As industrial grade lasers melted through the enemy ships' hulls, the twenty-five soldiers prepared to charge out and secure the landing area.
As they did so the second wave was launched. Carrying the majority of the troops, they aimed for the vessels already being boarded by the few survivors of the first wave.
Fighters used their manouverability to avoid enemy fire, while launching tactical nuclear missiles and gravitronic guns at their targets. Hopefully they would prove to be enough of a distraction that the boarding craft could make it to the enemy ships, if they didn't the fighters could still cause enough damage to even the fight a bit.
The battleships turned their attention away from the enemy capital ships, and fired their massive guns at the escort craft. The battleships' firepower would surely prove enough to take enough out as to reduce the amount of fire poured over the boarding craft.


Several lightyears away, in the core systems, the mobilization of the 5th Army Brigade had been finished. A hundred thousand soldiers had been conscripted and completed basic training and were now awaiting further orders. Probably they would be deployed on the outskirts of Libertarian space to slow the enemy advance down so that the rest of the Libertarian forces could be readied for battle.

OOC: Sorry it was a bit late, I had to help my father in destroying a medium sized oil tank.

A plague marine bellowed in infectious madness as the sword pierced ceramite; as bullets tore at his necrotic flesh; tearing him down. The Imperium fought onwards; through mud and pain; using the bodies of their comrades as cover; digging in and laying down a constant rate of fire; firing as they moved; charging, or rolling through the mud to other hiding places.

Transports plunged through the atmosphere; deploying Imperial Guardsmen to open fire with massed lasguns; the prayers of screaming zealot Priests of Chaos; the bellowed war cries of Commisars "You shall not falter! Stand or die! Fall and be damned!" They cried out; and the Guardsmen listened; any dissent met swiftly with bolt pistol to grimy forehead.

"May the Emperor be with you" A thud, and the body falls to the ground; asn abject lesson to his comrades. "ONWARD!" And onward they go; walking the path to hell with wild abandon. Raptors take to the skies; plunging from the air, chainswords roaring; lips twisted by insane, near endless glee. Upon this world; Chaos will not be denied; even as a grenade tears a raptor from it's perch; as Guardsmen are splattered with blood and mud and fabric as a comrade bursts into flames.

Over this hellish slaughter, Lucian provides; his cup runneth over with fetid glory; his scythe hungering; his nimble hands working its will; feeding Nurgle with every swipe. To his sides, Psykers discharge their powers; bound and tormented, snivelling, hissing things; their Alpha Class powers unleashed in waves of palpable destruction; the awesome mind of the Primarch joining them in a choir of psychic devestation; the swansongs of angels; the mad litanies of devils.

Capital ships flatered under the assault; hulls ruptured, bleeding and vaporised by the enemy assault; hulls rent by boarding pods and violated by heretics; heretics who now face the roaring Bolter turrets; and the howling chainswords of the defence forces. Lasgun, meltagun; bolter and zeal are forced upon the boarders; they will not give the Libertarian's an easy victory; and they shall die rather than surrender. One ship; it's hull lousy with boarding pods; detonates; the immense plasma explosion and reality rend warp vortex, for one glorious moment, light the void with the taint of Chaos. The insane laughter of the gods is all about; the fetid whisper on the air.

With hand of Death, Lucian reaches out; and beckons his foul, insane, disease-ridden and plague-rotted children to go forth; to fight onwards. This is the Imperium at its best; war upon worlds; war in the burning void.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely some Second Coming is at hand,
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitless as the sun,
Is moving is slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last.
Slouches toward's Bethlehem to be born?
The Second Coming- WB Yeats

Wave after wave of brave marines fell to the heretics' fire. The enemy's advantage in numbers were too great, even for the finest warriors of Relative Liberty, and when the Imperial Guardsmen arrived the counter-attack lost strength and turned into a general retreat. Officers did their best to rally their troops for yet another charge, but the men routed, shotting a few shots as they ran for cover within the bunkers once again. Behind them lay thousands of bodies wearing Libertarian and Chronosian uniforms, hundreds of destroyed vehicles, burning barracks and razed communication towers and plasteel walls. Artillery fire had left huge craters in the ground, torn corpses apart and the air was thick with volcanic ashes. What was left was some spread out automatic weapons that kept firing, although doing no particular harm.
From the bunkers those with ammunition left kept firing stray shots into the scores of the enemy, while preapring for a final glorious battle. In the bunkers they would have the advantage, since the doors where only so wide and only so mnay soldiers could enter at a time.

In space, the battle continues with no side showing any signs to giving in. Battleships and battlecruiser continued to pounder the enemy, the fighters kept on performing surgical strikes against the flanks and the rear and the missile cruisers are jumping to one location and firing their gravitronic guns, only to appear in safety within the Libertarian fleet again.
The boarding teams on the other hand, had a tough time. Libertarian ships did not have the vast amount of internal automated weaponry as the Chronosians, and they had been caught off guard when the battle started almost immediately. Thy were outnumbered, outgunned and had no idea of where the bridge or the engines were. Their only advantage was that they landed in som many different places, that they could sometimes outflank Chronosian security personell and cut them off from reinforcements.

OOC: Sure, TG me your Addy

IC:

Lucian watched; pressing a button on the arm of his armor; giving the final signal; a vast barrage from above thundering down upon the bunkers with daemoniacal glee; a wave of furious flame and dire retribution to tear asunder the final strongholds of the enemy. Marines and Guardsmen poured forth, into the mouth of Hell itself; weapons roaring in bloody concert; unspeakable rhapsody. The howls of death and pain scented the air; tainting the world with this aura of war and death. The Eagle and the Eight Pointed Star would hold sway in fluttering rapture over this world.

And still on the mkighty vessels they fought; responding to the distress signals and breaches; plunging into the fray even as men fell; torn asunder by the enemies assault; corpses slumping; bloodied and defeated, doomed to the whims of cruel fate. For every one that fell, another fought onwards; with insane Chaos-borne zeal and bloodied faith. They would not yield!

The ships buckled and broke; though many remained to fight; weapons roaring and screaming forth in discharge; assault pods surging forth to meet enemy hulls; Marines ready to plunge into battle and torment. Fighters whirled and dove; firing till they had no weapons left; before plunging against the enemy; detonating fusion bombs or graviton weapons as they impacted upon the cruel hulls.

"Surrender and be spared; Yield and you shall live" Came the communique. "Bow to us; and cease your futile effort; or we shall crush you on every front; we shall sunder you at every chance. We shall unleash all the hells of the Immaterium against you; and all your kin. For a thousand years, the sons of Liberty shall be blighted and alone; tormented and maimed!"

The ortillery punched through the heavy armour of the bunkers, the last resort of the Libertarian ground forces. Shards of concrete ricoshetted and killed some, wounding even more. Through the smoke and dust came the frenzied legions of Chaos, blessed by Nurgle, chainswords and bolters in hand and spreading the cursed diseases of their lord and master. Bolter fire ripped though the terrified silence that had followed the barrage, and cut large holes in the ranks of Libertarian marines. Pulse rifle fire answered, and a cacaphony of explosions, death screams and automatic fire commenced. There would be no escape. There would be no pardon. There would only be death in the name of the Dictator.
As the last shots were fired and the ammunition storages were emptied, the marines drew their swords and closed in to die a honourable death. The heroes of hundreds of victories, known throughout the Empire for the zeal and courage, would die here and now. They would die in battle, as they had always wished.

As Blood-Fang looked out of the windows on the bridge, he knew that the enemy admiral was right. His fleet was destroyed and the ground forces had been defeated. The Empire stood no chance of winning this battle, that was for sure. Outside, a heavy cruiser had had its starboard engines knocked out by Chronosian fire, and was now drifting on a collision course towards a Warrior class battlecruiser. The battlecruiser's hull was ripted apart and huge flames consumed portside. As the battlecruiser was finally split midship by the ramming heavy cruiser, Blood-Fang could see equipment, engines and crewmen being sucked out into the cold void outside. They would not win this day.
''Communication officer?''
''Yes sir?''
''Do the battleships still carry the PBSNuWs?''
''Yes sir.''
''Give the order to bombard the planet then, and order all ships to ram the enemy. Aim for those that have not been boarded if it's possible. Also transfer all records to Relativity for further analysis.''
''Yes sir.''
The battleships broke formation and positioned themselves right above the base. A cannonade of strategical and tactical weaponry was fired at what had been the outermost base in the Empire, until now.
The other ships powered down side shields and reinforced front shields and main thrusters for maximum speed before the contact with Chronosian vessels. At high speed they appraoched the enemy, choosing their targets and prioritizing capital ships and heavy cruisers. Fighters gathered in clusters and rammed the same spot, hoping to smash though the thick armour of the enemy.

Onboard the Chronosian vessels the Libertarian boarding teams fought on, desperate to inflict heavy casualties before it was all over. They knew, as well as anyone else, that the battle was lost and that nobody would come to their rescue in the last minute. Strike teams tried to penetrate Chronosian lines and head for the engine rooms, though they had no idea of where it might be, to sabotage as much as possible. Others tried to reach the bridge to kill the captains, and many more just held their ground, fighting a hopelss war of attrition with the Chronosians.

OOC: Done.

OOC: That didn't work....

IC:

Teleport arrays engaged; bringing the majority of the Marines back to the vessel; while many guardsmen were left behind; screaming as the blast rocked the world. Lucian hissed, breathing taut and deep as he gazed out; shocked at being so quickly torn from his place; yanked through void and immaterium; back here; back to his vessel. "The enemy would rather burn their world than relinquish it. Let us show them the meaning of pain; saturate the battlefield; crush them like the insects they are!"

They lashed out; a wall of firepower and determination; hurtling towards the advancing fleet; some executed Warp jumps; others continued to fire; others rammed in return; with whine of crashing, smashing metal; crush into each other; troops pouring forth into the intermingled vessels.

On the vessels; the Chronosians fought and died for their Emperor; blood oozing across the deck; bolters still roaring, machine spirits mad with years of bloodlust and conflict. Bodies littered the halls; some kicked aside; others knocked over; the corpses tumbling in rigour mortis as further lines of Chronosians fell or charged.

One vessel tore itself apart as the engines were detonated; another plunged, half mad and aimless as the Captain was brought down; before it too detonated in the rites of self-destruction. War was horrible; war was terrible and abysmal; war was a hell that the Chronosians had trained in and indulged for centuries; millennia....

As the flames roared high, the Libertarian crafts were shred to pieces by Chronoisan firepower. Lances ripped through shields and armour like a hot knife through butter, but they would not give in. Many fell during the charge towards the enemy, but they would not stop. Eventually, the heavy ships were the only ones who made it all the way to the enemy, the missile cruisers, frigates and fighters had all been annihilated without doing any good. Battleships were crushed into deformed pieces of metal and duranium as the two sides collided, battlecruisers were torn apart and debris was everywhere. After merely a quarter of an hour after the charge the Libertarian flagship, USSRLSF Harbinger, was the only ship left; one out of over a hundred. The portside had been torn open, flames were eating away at the bow of the ship and several sections of the vessel were exposed to the cold and empty void around. With a last thunderous roar of its engines, it set course for the enemy counterpart, aiming at the bridge of Lucian's flagship.
''At least we will die honourably,'' thought Blood-Claw as the end approached.

On the boarded ships:
The Chronosians seemed endless, as wave after wave stormed their positions. For the last half an hour the Libertarian teams had benn driven back to one section, the original landing place, though they had been forced to many behind. Several had got lost in the vast complex of tunnels and hallways, and were never to be seen again.
Previously the Libertarians had beaten back the Chronosian charges, but they were running extremely low on ammunition and manpower. They could expect no reinforcements, nor any pardon by the enemy. So as the latest horde of enemies approached, they drew their sabres as one man, and leapt over the barricades. They rushed down the hallway to engage the enemy in melee. They were used to this, they had done this a thousand times before, but this was different; this time they would not survive, and every single one of them knew it. They would die, and thus they fought with the strength of men that knew death appraoched, they fought with only a single goal in mind: to inflict as heavy casualties as possible before their death.
''For Liberty!'' was the battlecry. It had been repeated across the galaxy for eons, it had instilled fear into the enemies of the Republic, and later the enemies of the Empire. It had been uttered by billions of warriors through the ages, but never with such frenzy.

Relativity:
''It seems as if we lost the battle, gentlemen.''
''It slowed the enemy down enough so that we have been able to raise at least one brigade. The mission was mostly successful.'' replied the colonel of the Army.
''I agree with my collegue here,'' said the Admiral.
''So what do you propose now gentlemen? That we sacrifice yet another marine force?''
''Not at all, the brigade is ready now, we will crush the enemy in grand battle. Just in case tohugh, it would be wise to employ some heavy interstellar artillery to weaken the enemy...''
''Weapons of mass destruction? Colonel, are you aware of that the planets you propose we fire upon are Libertarian homeworlds?!''
''I'm sad to say that I do not agre with you on this matter colonel. Interstellar artillery against a planet under Dictatorial control is forbidden under all but the most extreme circumstances.''
''So what do you think we have here?''
''As you said yourself colonel, we will defeat the enemy. Majority in favour of not using interstellar artillery?''
''Majority in favour.''
''Well then. See you around tea time, gentlemen.''

OOC: Now then?

"Open fire" Lucian hissed; his voice booming across the bridge, as the front of the Pestilant Pleasure unfolded like some immense obscene flower; it's folds crackling with warp energy; as the main cannon fired in a spectacle of immense destruction; the other ships forming up in a defensive wave; all fire focussed upon the oncoming vessel; as the blast of pure Immateriumk tore towards it like a thunderbolt.

"None shall stand against us; we the chosen of the Gods!" He snarled; hissing in black fury as he strode forth. "Give the Order! Black flame ascendant; confirm"

"Black flame Ascendant, confirmed" A twisted languid voice drifted across the communications.

"Emerald Fire Enrapt, confirm" Lucian spoke once more; his voice growing more and more enraged

"Emerald Fire enrapt, confirmed"

"Scarlet blaze enflamed. Confirm?"

"Scarlet blaze enflamed! CONFIRMED!" The voice bellowed; a new voice; red and bloody with hate. Across Libertarian space; three war fleets numbering 500 ships in each, tore free from the Immaterium. One was a Khornate fleet, under the Lord Cabot; destroyer of Worlds. The second, was the fleet of the hallowed Warmaster, Remiel; Heir to all the Imperium; and the Third, to Severino Jeriacor; sorcerous lord of the Imperium.

"We go forth, here; now; to victory or death" Remiel sighed; chuckling softly. "Purge our enemy on every front; the Eagle shall rule Liberty within the year. Patch me through to their communications."

"Aye Lord."

"People of Liberty. I come to offer you peace; or to offer you death on every front. KNow that our forces are legion; and my Brother's battle just unfolded; is but the first blow of a greater offensive. Every Chronosian will fight his way inexorably towards your homeworlds; we shall burn them clean. I offer you a choice; submit; or be converted. Surrender; or die. Surrender and we will ask of you, tithes and payments; reparations and sacrifice. Refuse; and entire systems shall burn for the arrogant pride of your rulers; your children will be spared; to scuttle in the faeces and the corpses; to crawl on their bellies in torment and slavery"

The wall of fire and psychic energy penetrated the shields, and hit the hull. The duranium and plasteel turned red hot and fell apart; large pieces of molten duranium flying away. The engines exploded and the ship drifted aimlessly through space, momentum though, kept it on a crude collision course with the Chronosian flagship. Flaming debris was all that remained of the flagship of the 1st Task Force.


The transmission was interrupted before it could end, followed by a message by the Libertarian authorities.
''People of Relative Liberty, do not listen to these lies of foreign heretics! There vile speech is nothing but lies and heresy, even now our glorious forces have dealt them a terrible blow on the outskirts of our Empire. Their forces have been utterly beaten, and now they try to turn you away from your loving Dictator with heretic speeches. We shall crush them and rive them before our armies. The lamentations of their women shall be heard througout the universe, and the very foundations of realtiy shall tremble at our terrible might as we obliterate their planets one after the other!''

Rekativity:
''We have lost the 1st Task Force and our two best commanders, the situation calls for drastic methods. I propose that we send the currently mobilized forces to the front and immediately resume conscription.''
''Agreed. Do you have any particular planets in mind, colonel?
''Karska V, the jungle planet is a major shipyard. If we were to lose that our ships would have no major dock until Fimbula Two. The Planetary Defence Force should be able to hold off the attackers for awhile, but I recommend we send a brigade at once.
''Do we have any task forces for the job, star lord?''
''Since the mobilization started we have gathered an awe-inspiring force in this station. It would be foolish to send them all out to defend just one planet, tohugh seeing as how the enemy destroyed the 1st Task Force it would be wise to send at least two. I think the 4th and 3rd would do nicely.''
''Good.''

Karska V:
On Karska V the PDF had mobilized, and the planetary shields raised. Automatic gun stations in geosynchronized orbits were powered on and programmed to fire on every approaching vessel not sending a special emergency code. All flights to and from the planet had been cancelled, and as many citizens conscripted as possible. Major cties had been evacuated and the populace moved to several large fortresses and secrets hideouts in teh jungel.

Space around Relativity:
Troops were being loaded on board the two task forces. Twenty capital ships, battleships, carriers and invasion carriers, and two hundred escort ships, battlecruisers, heavy cruisers, frigates and missile cruisers, were readied for flight. After two weeks they would be ready to go. Amongst the ships were such famous crafts as the battleships USSRLSF Invincible, Victory and Domination, the carriers Eagle, Dictator, Palace and Peace Through Power, the battlecruiser Ignorance is Strength and the invasion carrier Death From Above. All of them had serve dduring the second Falconmen war and had been decorated innummerable times.

The vessel slammed into the Pestilant Pleasure, the hissing and roaring of sundering all around them as it gouged down the flank of the great chaos vessel; cannons roaring as they drove it from the side; leaving the sundered vessel; wounded and seething with rage. In a single blow; the Flagship had been taken out of play. As it limped into the warp; Lucian's orders went forth; clear and unstoppable.

"Make them all suffer..."

Black Flame was initiated; the 500 strong fleet of Remiel, tempered by Cabot's 500 strong Scarlet Blaze; would strike against Karska V; while Severino's fleet of 500, the Emerald Fire; would lash out against Fimbula Two. At the same time; the jointly 1000 ships of Hakar and Radu; two of the Khornate primarchs, would lash out in a killing blow...

The 1000 ships of Slaanesh and Khorne; the vast war armada of Cabot and Remiel; tore into existance at the edge of the Karska system; weapons whirring and engaging; around 50 ships opening fire with long range missles. The projectiles hurtled through the void; some splitting open; revealing cluster missles and sets of Mines; while others burst into massive detonations of graviton weapon or fusion blast. The barrage ceased; and then began again; a wave of secondary assault; as the fleet held its position.

Near to Fimbula Two; the immense fleet of Severino; loyal to Tzeentch, slid from the warp; warp cannons roaring into immediate life, alive with chaotic seething; hissing blasts of unknowable energy; barked war cries and prayers upon the communications units. They had come to convert or kill every last being...

Two fleets prepared for jump; and plotted their courses; they would roar free of the warp, on the edge of the Relativity System; ready to close upon the Homeworld of their insidious foe. They would cut their veins; and strangle the life from the hated new enemy. They would surrender with the deaths of their fleet worlds; or they would surrender under the hail of Khornate fury upon their homeworld...The Two fleets; currently in Imperial territory; awaited only the command.

OOC: Relativity isn't a system, it's a space station in orbit around the capital planet Liberty One.

Karska V:
Guns sentries opened fire as the Chronosian fleets came closer, and plasma bolts and torpedoes were launched within seconds. The four large cubic sentries were stationary, but had shields to protect themselvees for a while.
The planetery shields were able to withstand to the bombardment for a moment, but soon fell to the immense firepower of the two Chronosian fleets. Cluster missiles and mines came crashing down into the jungle and the cities, releasing their deadly cargo and destroying entire city blocks in one blow. Firestorms raged in the jungle, although the tropic climate reduced the rate at which it spread.

Fimbula Two:
The ice world of Fimbula Two was a small planet on the outskirts of the Fimbula system. A planet hostile to all life, its only value was a major port before the Outer Worlds. Lying within the ''safe'' zone of the Core Worlds, it didn't have the extensive defensive system as many other planets; a planetary shield and fortresses at the polar caps, that's all.
The civilian populace fled before the onslaugt of the Chronoisan hordes, many loosing their lives to the bombardment, others getting lost in the chaos and even more stampeded by panicking civilians. Soldiers of the PDF tried to restore order and guiding the masses to the fortresses; even going so far as to open fire into the crowds to quiet them.

Outside Relativity:
The two task forces were preparing to leave port, only awaiting the last of the soldiers. Already other fleets were getting ready for redeployment to the front; ot do their duty to their Dictator and country. Relative Liberty expects every man to do his duty, and they were prepared to complete whatever task laid before them.

Ships were torn from the void; by the counterattacks of the Libertarian assault; as another and another volley streamed forth from the advancing fleet about Karska; weapons howling in primal discharge, alight like the orgasm of angels; the hungry howls of lusting devils. Demagogues incited madness amongst troops, readied and over-eager for slaughter. Voices spoke in hushed tones and screamed cries of war; black death and anger was upon them. Fire focussed in uncertain arcs; rallied in steady blows; against the defences; and glancing blows destined worldward; ready to turn all their achievements to ashes; and all the waters to wormwood. Darkness rules the night, sailing the void on diaphonous wings; borne amongst these followers of Chaos.

About Fimbula; the onslaught continues; ships stain the skies with fire and the earth with blood. This is not their will; not their wish to bring uncertain death. It is desire; sharpened to a certainty, drenched in liquid lusting and an evil beyond appetite and urging. They bring death, howled in a artillery blast; love; whispered in the hiss of flame and gunshot. This is Hell; their hellish love spills forth in opiate caresses; to take their foes beyond death; to consume; devour defile. To set this world to the flames and the fetid rot that consumes all who defy Chaos...

Faster then Light inhibitors whirr on, on every vessel; a shield, a timebuyer; they are not done yet; not satisfied; not satiated on their killing fields. Much more still to do; worlds still to burn, to rend with humilitys hand; to touch with foul obscene fingers; clutching. They will drive the enemy back to the bastard bosum of their origin; bring their abortive touch to primordial womb. They shall defeat them entirely; unmake this race; or they will yield; see sense against the slaughter.

Bump

OOC: Sorry I haven't replied, forum's gone FUBAR and I've been out of town.

IC:
The disciples of Slaanesh pushed forward despite the heavy fire laid down by the Libertarian defencive installations. Planetary gun batteries opened fire, providing the last of the refugees to escape into the safety of the dense forests of Karska V. The local militia manned the fortresses and bunkers dotted across the surface, and hidden deep beneath the crust in the fires of the mantle. Weapons and ammunition were brought up from great storages deep within the mighty fortresses, ancient mechs and MBTs were awoken from their centurys of slumber.

On Fimbula chaos reigned supreme as the unprepared populace desperately tried to escape the enemy assault. The Chronosian onslaught devastated city after city, claiming millions in the name of Khorne, Slaanesh, Nurgle and Tzeentch. The dead littered the streets; cramped between the burning ruins in scores. The once proud structures and buildings of Fimbula Two, renowned throughout the Empire for their beauty and magnificence were reduced to smoldering piles of ash and molten plasteel. Ten thousand years of recorded history was destroyed in an instant as the regional archive was set aflame; burning like a grim torch in the cold night.

Libertarian ships were hurried out of the docking bays, gathered into crude defencive positions in front of the wretched enemy of the Empire. Heretics would burn before the might of the Dictator's finest warriors. Shields were raised, battleships formed defencive positions around the carriers while battlecruisers established an oute perimeter. Frigates were sent out on the flanks to attack the enemy in a pincer move, and missile cruisers formed the rear guard.