Khurgan
22-01-2006, 03:13
With little warning, the Warp Storm had erupted. The sparse populus of the planet looked to the skies uncaring, they had enough to deal with on the surface alone. The flashing colors meant little if a Fiddler devoured their settlement. The patrols went out as usual, the few that could not leave the village working steadily to keep the defenses in a decent state of repair, and burning away at the constantly encroaching jungle. The Tarantulas were doing a good job at holding the rather violent flora and fauna back, but the humidity and less overtly hostile plants did a number on their delicate machinery. Finally, after several weeks, the dancing colors in the sky stopped. The natives, of course, barely noticed. They had enough problems with the local vines taking over one of the barracks and holding a few patrolsmen hostage. With the distraction of surviving on this Death World, they didn't even look up to see the flashes of color, like aftershocks of the departed Warp Storm.
High above the planet, Tzaanlord Hasdrubal watched his fleet move through space. Brilliant bolts of colored flame burst forth from the Warp as a few stragglers emerged from the Warp. A dozen of the Khurganate super transports moved towards the surface, their immense bulks blocking out the sun for miles below them. Lance fire from bombardment vessels vaporized the ground below them, clearing a landing site for the massive transports miles wide. From their bellies poured hundreds of tanks, thousands of infantry. Tzaangard walked amongst them, bellowing orders to the Legionairres. Meanwhile, far above their heads, the Khurganate armada moved into position to defend the landing site from any interlopers, whether in space or on the surface.
Hasdrubal smiled. Soon, Catachan would be his...
High above the planet, Tzaanlord Hasdrubal watched his fleet move through space. Brilliant bolts of colored flame burst forth from the Warp as a few stragglers emerged from the Warp. A dozen of the Khurganate super transports moved towards the surface, their immense bulks blocking out the sun for miles below them. Lance fire from bombardment vessels vaporized the ground below them, clearing a landing site for the massive transports miles wide. From their bellies poured hundreds of tanks, thousands of infantry. Tzaangard walked amongst them, bellowing orders to the Legionairres. Meanwhile, far above their heads, the Khurganate armada moved into position to defend the landing site from any interlopers, whether in space or on the surface.
Hasdrubal smiled. Soon, Catachan would be his...