NationStates Jolt Archive

High Orbit
Planet Felucia, Felucia System
Chronosian/Imperial Front

If the universe could've thrown up a hair ball, that's what the Horde fleet emerging from Netherspace would've looked like. A single massive warship tore into existence, followed by dozens of smaller, boxy craft and a few carriers.

General Saurfang aboard the Kolkar 27 looked down upon the fertile, fungal forests of Felucia. During the Clone Wars so many centuries ago, it had become the grave of one Aayla Secura, the beautiful Twi'lek Jedi.

But now it had become a hotbed of corruption. The Galactic Empire had claimed it and, by default, so had the Chronosian Imperium. Though they couldn't get accurate readings yet, Saurfang had every ounce of confidence that Chronosia had all but overlooked this insignificant backwater. There were no important installations. It lacked any shipyards. It was not even in a strategic location.

And yet, the Warchief had targetted this world for his squadron to take. Over half the Horde fleet was stationed around Nelvaan waiting to deploy and strike against the hated Chronosians, and he was taking on some backwater depot with a massive landing force.

No matter. The carriers were already deploying their fighters. The transport craft stayed close to the Kolkar battlecruiser, basking in its heavy shields.

"All disruptor cannons to full power. Redirect Primary and Secondary batteries to forward fire control. Energy wards at maximum."

They'd nicknamed this class of vessel the "Star Destroyer Hunter". It was time for it to live up to its name.

"Target orbital installations and FIRE!"

OOC:Tag. Forum tools no worky

Felucia System

While truly not a major installation of the Empire; while certainly a world enslaved and ensnared; it was nothing. A paltry affront to the Gods; for Remiel, drunk and secure in his power; deemed the many to be grander than the few; the whole greater than the sum of it's parts. Summarily; each weapon of the orbital stations turned to face their dire foes; and the bastion of this border world; a mighty Golan, hovering; high and mighty above the jewel-like edifice of the tiny, meaningless world; seemed to initiate. Energy sparked about the mighty station; droids activated themselves at their stations; whirring in a flurry of mechanical limbs and flickering interfaces.

The great weapon fired; energy pouring down upon the world; incinerating what it did not instantly kill; darkness and smoke rising as the world was near ready to be set to the flame. The attack would have had to come soon; the Imperium knew this; and at the first sign of a strike; at the first arrival of signals from their sensors; regarding a ponderously futile Horde fleet; they had decided to act.

250 Chronosian vessels; nothing like the paltry Star Destroyer's that the Horde would have expected; tore free of the Warp in which they had lingered; appearing at the edge of the system; raising an FTLi field about the world and the ill-fated strike force that had chosen to assault it; these maggots would have to learn a lesson...

Chronosia Prime

"Initiate the cleansing; by my will; by my authority as Emperor; I grant the access codes; initialise the first Launch."

Top Secret Location; Highest Imperial Echelon Access Only

Systems whirred and crackled to life; the great edifice spun on it's axis; ponderously slow; marvellously precise. The crew rushed to their stations; systems prepped; readied; and focussed themselves. The sirens rang out; the weapon crackled; the immense barrel pulsing; energy dialating forth as it fired; the mighty shell roaring free of it's barrel; engaging; readying; and tearing into Hyperspace.

Nelvaan

The shell tore itself free from hyperspace; energy crackling about it as it bore down upon the planet; it's weapons and shields flaring to life; as it prepared to plunge through the atmosphere; a surprise attack; a daring assault; a firing of the immense power of the Galactic Superweapon; the Galaxy Gun. The Sith had been wise in their planning; Nightshade had been flawless in her execution; and Remiel had been merciless in his use of such terrifying power.

At the edge of the Nelvaan system; the reconquista threatened to begin; far from the world; they too took the opportunity to engage their ponderous FTLi fields; a cunning snare for the wretched beings that were the horde; a cunning deception. They had waited for the first opponent to strike against the Imperium.

Who were these fools to think the hordes of the Dark Gods to be fools; who were they to think to draw them to some backwater hellhole and be distracted from the true war. As Imperial War-orders went out to the allies Chronosia had delegated as it's hands against the wretched Horde; the Lords of Entropy themselves cackled at the might that the horde had invoked; the watchful fury they had roused.

OOC: Ignoring the fact that you seem it as good practice to torch what could be extremely good RP areas, that your "Golan" would not at least be severely damaged in the salvos of a vessel easily twice as powerful as the standard ISD Mk.3, and that your galaxy gun completely circumvented the FLTi fields deployed throughout the Koobi system (point of reference - no one ever said that the Horde fleets were the ONLY ones in Koobi); I find it incredible that orders can fly back and forth through your empire so fast.

I may be 1/3 your size in terms of military abilities, but I'm no dullard.

OOC: Ignoring the fact that you seem it as good practice to torch what could be extremely good RP areas, that your "Golan" would not at least be severely damaged in the salvos of a vessel easily twice as powerful as the standard ISD Mk.3, and that your galaxy gun completely circumvented the FLTi fields deployed throughout the Koobi system (point of reference - no one ever said that the Horde fleets were the ONLY ones in Koobi); I find it incredibly ironic that orders can fly back and forth through your empire so fast.

I may be 1/3 your size in terms of military abilities, but I'm no dullard.

OOC: Khurgan is quite literally omniscient. I blame Tzeentch. And, as for torching planets... They're CHAOS. Torching things is what they do...

OOC: Well, besides the fact that you never stated any FTLi fields being in operation; and the fact that Golan is rather well armoured, well shielded; etc; it is after all a tool to prevent rebellion; it's hardly made of glass. I think you'll find that being on the brink of war; and that information travels relatively fast when you're awaiting orders; that it's more than entirely possible. You want to employ FTLi, state that's it's on. Since you failed to; I think it's more than appropriate for me to suggest that my GG shell could get through. I'll happily have the Golan take damage; but I find robbing you of your objective's so pleasing. I don't suggest you're a dullard; what I do suggest is that you give free-form a chance. I let Godular play his little lockdown game; now it's time to see what you get for rousing the beast. No stated FTLi, no practical FTLi; sorry; but that's how it'll be.

if you have further concerns, feel free to contact me through MSN

At the very edge of the Horde's inhibitor field; a Chronosian fleet, 1000 strong tore into being;

Taken from the Sacrifice of Angel's thread. Emphasis my own.

Taken from the Sacrifice of Angel's thread. Emphasis my own.

OOC; Grasping at straws. That was some time ago; and you never stated it was active in This RP

Emphasis is my own.

Now like I said; if you have concerns, please consult me on MSN; you're not going to find this as an RP where you can attack me, at a system you don't even know if I control or not (Finding out details; and that little thing known as planning do seem to help) yet I can't launch any form of decent retribution of my own; then I don't really see the point. I'm not going to sit back and be a victim here; you chose to attack me; you will pay the price.

I currently do not have access to MSN on this computer.

The first nation I encountered was CoreWorlds. They were the first nation I established diplomatic relations with. It was also them who used to control the entirety of the Galactic Empire. Felucia is a well-known Imperial planet, and planning for this attack has been going on in secret for a while now by coalition members.

I really have no interest in a fight if you're going to glass each and every planet I attack. Read my signiature. I could care less if I win or lose.I had planned to lose this one, actually. I was going to use it to further the RP of one of my characters.

If you want to counterattack Nelvaan, that's fine by me. However, as Nelvaan was not the focus of THIS thread, Felucia was, I of course did not detail the forces in orbit of Nelvaan. I'm not going to detail the defenses of EACH OF MY WORLDS in EACH RP I DO.

Now, let's finish the RP of one battlecruiser and a mess of transports against a battlefleet of two-hundred and fifty capital ships. If you want Nelvaan back, make a seperate thread so that this can be properly RP'd.

OOC: Okie dokey, making thread for Nelvaan. Be up in a sec, will remove the current post here.

EDIT: Here it is! (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=10299344#post10299344)

OOC: As you wish; I would advise you to calm yourself; and if you cannot access MSN, at least find some method of us discussing this in an OOC manner. What you neglect to realise is, while you and the GFFA have been planning this for who knows how long; even CW does not the Empire entirely; only one person does; US.

I will assume that in any assault on Nelvaan, that my actions are carried out as I intended.

IC:

The 250 ships waited; the force remaining; field raised; at the edge of the System; awaiting the order to bring it down and move out. As they did; the Golan suddenly ceased it's assault; not obliterating the world utterly; but leaving it suitably crisp; suitably ready for the true gamut to begin. A wry chuckle broke the face of the commander of one of the many orbital stations; even as they were buckled and sundered by incoming fire; one fell, screaming and flaming; in a firestorm, towards the half-mauled world. "Now..." he whispered.

The fleet dropped the field; two vessels; Space Marine battle-barges; tearing free, into the warp; roaring out in orbit of the world; their mighty guns turned towards the advancing fleet; their pods roaring earthwards in waves of bloody defiance. These were the vessels; marked with the great symbols of the Mechanicus; and a new symbol; a book, aflame; pierced by sword and orbed in a great Gear.

These were the Fists of Steel.

Defences rocketed towards the world; great walls of steel and stone smashing into the turmoil of the Earth; intricate Lance blasts carving trenches from the very ground; Marines filed this way and that; Predator Tanks and Whirlwind Artillery; great altered Basilisks and Chimera's; moved and arranged themselves; a vast axe; half wicked blade, and half-engraved, ornate gear; gleamed against the black earth; as Lord Sardric; Brother-Captain and Tech-Adept under Primarch Aesri, strode forth; his robes billowing against the ceramite and gleaming metals of his armor.

These savages wanted their world; let them come....

Gorlach was puzzled by this move. Why go to all this trouble just to deliver ground defenses? That fleet could easily overrun his squadron.

Pagh! No matter.
"All ships, advance!"

Fighters began swarming around what was left of the orbital defenses as the great battlecruiser's guns turned to the marine transports. One of the Horde transports took some fire and burst like a ripe cumquat, escape pods burning down to the surface of the planet.

The grand weapons of the Imperial vessels roared and snarled forth against the enemies; to cripple the battleship; but not to harm the transports; no; they had a grander role to play in this; a place in the grand guignol. The ships sent down yet more pods; snarling things dwelling within; impacting towards the rear of the lines; while the forward formations continued to be secured; fortified; perfected.

Sardric's visage crackled over the Horde communications networks. "Come foul beasts; come and taste the Emperor's fury! You are weak in your lack of faith; your wretched, bestial kin are greater foes than thou! Come, let us match wits; the fate of our Empire's in the balance. You, foolish tools of the Jedi, naive believers of the first truths you beheld upon emerging! Come, greenskins; we have fought your kind before; and they have perished before our fury!"

Kolkar 27 shook under the fire, and her shields flickered.
"Full broadside, starboard batteries fire!"

The turrets swiveled and began pounding on what appeared to be the left most battlebarge's command spire. The dozen or so Orcish transports burned through the atmosphere of Felucia, already prepping for landing while firing their plasma turrets at the battlebarges, like mosquitos nipping at the elephant. On board, Battlemaster engines and Crawler tanks were preparing to disembark. Deathwatcher hovercraft and Sentinel walkers were crewed and armed, and the BX.150 fighters began their pre-launch sequences.

Shields shook and crackled; hissing in static discharge; arcing arms of electrical energy dancing in fevered fury; rage flickered across the Commander's face as armor sundered; marring the mighty hull; before the torpedoes and roaring barrage tore once again towards the ships of the Horde.

On the surface; the great Basilisk's already howled at the hovering vessels; and hurling forth artillery at their potential landing zones; the great Lord Sardric stoods, tall; proud; regarding these heretical monstrosities with a certain glee. "Unleash the Uruks!" Came his singular order.

Clawed hands sloshed blood into helmets; slammign them down onto the heads of the Berzerker's; hearing the serated roar of the creature; it's crackling weapon grasped in bloodied hands; rising, bellowing as they surged forth towards the front. Mighty, roughly armored beings, leaped trenches, feet impacting in the sloshing mud; their growls echoing across the skies. Helmet's hid their bestial faces; their snarling, razor maws; their twisted slit-like eyes. Upon the brow of it was engraved the Eight Pointed Star; symbol of Chaos and Entropy itself.

Chainswords howled, roaring in feral hunger; bolters cocked and readied; a fully power-armored Warlord leaping to the fore; bellowing as he charged; power claw, crackling with blood and fel energies, held high; heavy bolter roaring in his other hand; snarling, pushing to the head of the Line; ready to fight.

A dark cackle rose; Sardric carressing his own weapon; gazing out across the soon to be battlefield.

"Let them come; they shall stand before us; and we shall lead them into Hell!"

Aboard the mammoth transports, great rectangular doors began opening even before they touched down. The slender yet crude ramjet fighters screamed out, arming their 50mm cannons, ARC casters, and incendiary bombs. The fighters swooped down on the Uruks, their cannons firing in strafing runs and their bombs dropping on what the cannons spared.

As the transports touched down, their shields flaring from the artillery barrages, the Crawlers disembarked and raised their mortar launchers. Great volleys of fire rained down upon the demons, and screams of bloodlust could be heard from the orcish front line. Energy blades and plasma rifles were armed and activated as each marine donned their armor. The Deathwatcher hovertanks secured the perimeter as the mor'ghulls loaded themselves into their Sentinel walkers.

Senior Sergeant Kul'jamma wiped a bit of mud from his tusks.
"Prepayah fo' attack, mons!" Legions of blue trolls, the great Gurubashi Beserkers, began beating their chests in their frenzy. The very sight of the feared Beserkers caused even the nearby orc squad to stumble backwards. Larger, meaner, and more heavily armored than the standard marines, they were the epitome of the Gurubash Empire's elite. They had come to this world expecting a vast, lush fungal forest akin to their own homeworld of Lordaeron. Instead, the Chronosians had burned it.

And they were pissed.

Uruk war chants stained the air as though each syllable stank of palpable corruption; bolters howled in primal fury; lascannons pounded and surged; Predator tanks unleashed volleys of shells; as the flaming artillery of the Basilisk's and Whirlwinds hurtled from above. The Uruks came first; snarling, howling things; leaping into the fray; the Berzerker's cared not who they slaughtered; they plunged forth, swinging mighty double edged blades in sizzling arcs of hatred and bloodlust. Bellowing inhumanly; one slammed his body towards the enemy; explosives laced across his body detonating; sending a spiked shard of blade hurtling towards his foes, even in his death agonies.

While the vehicles pounded from the recesses of the Chronosian line; safe even as artillery thundered off walls and trenches; the Steel Fist's took to their guns; a steady wave of continual fire; their rockets and lascannons, belching discharge; even as the unholy choir of the daemonic guns shrilled above them. No prayers here; save the insane whisperings of Chaos; no salvation; safe in Death and damnation!

"TO THE SLAUGHTER!" Warsmith's crested the edge of the trenches; directing gun servitors to unleash hell with mere gestures; Servo-arms whirred and twisted in inhuman angles.

"HOLD THE LINE DAMN YOU!" A roar of almost liquid assault as havocs and Devestator Squads attacked; their mighty weapons howling in raw, carnal anger; Obliterator's teleported in and out of existence; their armor bizarre tapestries of shifting flesh, metal and weapons; molded by the virus rampant in their Systems.

And then something more terrible than even the Uruk Berzerker's joined their charge; red armored; blood-gorged; seething and hissing and bellowing in insane lust; they each bore chainaxes; either chained to them; or one held high, while the other hand brandished a bolt pistol; others bore two; mighty whirring chainweapons; hissing, seething teeth that yearned to bite and tear....The Berzerker's of Khorne had come forth.

"Blood....Blood.....BLOOOOOOOOOD!!"

((I'm here. Shitload of stuff going on in RL. I'll post when I can.))

Without much warning or pretext three black painted Star Destroyers came out of hyperspace above Felucia. Fighters exited, all painted black, and began engaging any defenses that the hated Chronosians might have. At the same time hundreds of massive transports came out of hyperspace behind these dark harbringers of death.

They dove straight for the planet, their landing computers estimating a drop zone in the rear of any detectable Chronosian lines. AA batteries fired up and several drop pods were destroyed. Yet even more made it to the ground.


James Kimpera stood on the bridge of his command Star Destroyer. He turned to a man who was dressed in black un-uniform like clothes.

"Get an open communications channel." The man nodded and worked at his consul. He raised his head and nodded at James.

James spoke into the recorder. "Attention all Chronosian vessels, forces, and citizens of that Imperium thereof. I am James Kimpera. I was a Thrashian citizen. I had a family, as did my men. Before you and your hated Galactic Empire came. We are the Dark Avengers and we will destroy you, and you will feel our hatred." he dropped the mic and closed the channel.

"Now they will feel my pain."


The ramps of those large transports opened. Out of them spilled thousands upon thousands of black armored soldiers. The last remants of the Thrashian Imperial Guard, Thrashian Prime PDF, Clone Army, and other organizations. Men whose lives had been ruined with the destruction of the Thrashian home system.

The massive tide came over a low ridge and below was the fighting between the Chronosian forces and Orcs. A lone black armored figure, taller than all others, wearing a black cape and holding forth a great silver sword stepped forward.

He raised his sword. "For Thrashia! For revenge! Death!" he yelled.

"Death! Death! Death! Death!" wsa chanted and yelled up and down the line. The man turned and swung his cape over his shoulder. He raised his sword and then lowered it, and began running down the slope.

Still chanting Death, the hundreds of thousands of troops surged forward. Their blaster fire, rocket launchers, swords brandished; all calling for the death of just one more Chronosian warrior.

OOC: This is still open to other GE members and not just the people currently participating right? I'm getting bored.

TAG for now.

OOC: This is still open to other GE members and not just the people currently participating right? I'm getting bored.

TAG for now.

ooc: Should be open. I thought it would be cool to have some vengeful group of thrashians after some blood and throw them into the nearest Chronsian warzone. :D