NationStates Jolt Archive

Odds and ends were drifting from the last detonation. Everyone not already in an escape pod or drop ship would be drifting in space, battered bodies broken. The last drop ship was escaping from a rapidly crumbling cruiser. In the bridge, a lone figure could be spotted with keen enough eyes, standing at the fore of the command station. The last thing Rhine asked of him was to go down with his ship to preserve The Pact.

The final detonation destroyed the ship, and the overload of the reactors took out the rest of the enemy fleet.

Close by, a single desolate, icy planet could be made out...against this, a Flotilla of Dropcraft, pods, and fighters could be seen limping in its direction.



Marine Sergeant Orsidious held a NanoPatch to a Devicer's shoulder. The man groaned and shifted, which didn't do any better for his condition. After a moment, he quieted down with the tiny machines quickly working on the wound. "Attention passengers, touch down thirty seconds. Take your seats."

The sergeant took hold of his Plasma Repeater, and took hold of a line, as all the seating areas in the command shuttle we're taken up by wounded men and women. Most of the Marines we're unharmed, due to most of them being in a relatively unharmed section of the ship, so he saw them standing with him, stuffed into the cramped confines of the shuttles passenger bay.

"Landing!"
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A great rift tore through the fabric of space, briefly linking the chaos of the Immatarium to real-space, big enough for ship to be able to slip through. And so they did. Two ships (http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/6/64/ExorcistClassGrandCruiser.JPG), actually, with distinctive armored prows and long command towers. Around them flew five smaller escort class vessels, like bes buzzing around a hive They had arrived under orders from the Imperial Navy, who had detected numerous distress calls originating from this area. Analyzing the copious communications, it sounded distinctly like battle-chatter.

And where there was fighting, the Angenterians could be counted on to poke their noses around.

On the bridge of the first ship, christened the Pax Imperator, Commodore Davian Harris folded his arms as he stood at the command balcony, watching the bridge (http://i126.photobucket.com/albums/p98/l33t-h4x0r/bridge2.jpg) crew at work.

"Status report." He commanded.

"Commodore. All ships report battle-ready." An officer put in.

"Void-shields at 100%!" Said another.

"Lance batteries fully charged! Gunnery crews are standing by!"

"All squadrons confirm readiness. We can launch anytime."

"Launch fighter screen." Commodore Harris ordered. "Auspex, report."

"Sir!" The auspex officer sounded off. "It seems like a moderately-sized engagement just took place. Lots of debris..." He paused for a moment, his console beeping. "I'm picking up a large number of contacts. Looks like escape pods..."

"Destination?"

"Sir, they seem to be concentrating around a nearby planet roughly 3 AU's from our position."

"Navigation, set course. Have our ships form battle lines. I don't want anything creeping up on us. Communications, open a channel."

"Open, sir."

This is Commodore Davian Harris of the Angenterian Imperial Navy. If anyone can receive this, please respond.

(OOC: That's a pretty nifty bridge compared to the cavernous hangars and gothic shipbuilding of the rest of the vessel =P)

OOC: Quiet, you. ;)

But yeah, I know. The inside of the ship is techy, while the outside appears gothicy. Who said it had to be the same?

Planetside

The command shuttle was three times larger then the rest of the drop craft, which besides it being the only ship with supplies other then food and ammo, was also the only ship any sort of tech. Prefab walls had been dragged together on top of an iceshelf, which after being smoothed out with repair lazers, was used a landing pad.

Devicers had put their power reserves into overdrive, and we're still roaming about, with their cold resistant skins protecting them from the frozen tundra. They had scuttled a few Dropships and in short time had constructed a small encampment around the Command Shuttle, which through its extension rigging, had expanded itself into a control tower, overlooking a dozen Dropships on the 'airpad' and dozens of fighters.

Dotting the Iceshelf, under thermal blankets and most in armour or flightsuits, Marines and Pilots drank warm caffeine and ate out of auto-heating ration packs. Makeshift roofs pulled together with prefab parts and thermal blankets in excess hovered over men.

The Command 'Tower' was filled to capacity with wounded men and women, and command staff trying to figure out their next course of action.



"Its quite an obvious decision. We send out a distress signal after the main powerlines are reconnected. Will have enough boost for a stronger signal." There was some disagreement. "Nay. What if we attract some unwanted visitors?"

There was some muttering about that. "We can't just sit here. We have enough supplies...for now, but not for long. Will just have to take the chance." Most thought this was fair enough, as the other course of action would be to sit there and die slowly.

"Alright then. Move out people, we need to reorder the power network, and reconnect some Drones to the system. Get them out of the Sub-Hanger."

Pax Imperator
Bridge

Commodore Harris stood at the railing of the command balcony, observing his bridge crew as they scurried to carry out his orders. He tapped his fingers on the metal railing. They had been waiting for a response from the nearby planet, or anything at all, for that matter, for some time, but to no avail. They had received no further transmissions, and the planet itself was silent as a desert. Which wouldn't be too inaccurate. Auspex scans revealed it to be an ice-world, a planet literally covered with frozen glaciers and snow-covered tundra. Very little -almost none, in fact- life signs were detected, probably those cold-weather plants or animals that scraped together a precious living amongst the ice and cold.

Surely, nothing off-world could survive there very long?

"Anything at all?" Harris asked, starting to grow impatient. He wondered began to wonder if anything had survived at all, or if said survivors had any means to communicate after such an event.

"No, sir." The auspex officer shook his head, pressing several more buttons. "I can try to boost the strength, but I don-"

"That's won't be necessary." Harris said. "How long until we arrive?"

"We'll be able to establish standard orbit within ten minutes, sir."

"Do so as soon as possible. And prepare a search party." He took his weight off the railing, standing at his full height.

"Let's at least confirm their bodies before we leave."

Orsidious gazed up at the sky, which had gotten the attention of a nearby Pilot. "Hoping for some space aliens to come by and 'beam us up'?" The Pilot snickered but Orsidious groaned. "Its not like your helping." The Pilot put his hands up defensively. "Hey, they said no flying. I would in orbit now instead of this icy dump, but 'Commander' says no."

Orsidious glared at the control tower. "He's no Commander. Not our Commander at least." A distant shout worked its way to Orsidious' ears. He pushed a button near the edge of his helmet's connection port and pulled it back on. "Captain calling." The Pilot laughed again. "See ya around, soldier boy."



"Yeah!" Three men stood around a Devicer which just stood up from its work. "Wonderful." The powerlines we're reconnected, and a monotone computerlike voice sounded off overhead. "Power readings raised to full capacity. Communications back online. Unscrambling signal now. Hold please." The commanding officer clapped his hands. "Is everything back online then?"

"Almost everything. Turrets are reading perfect. Shields can be charged if we go up again, and the Comm system is almost back up, for the Marines too, we just need to unscramble the channel."

The officer smiled. "Right then. Back to you stations. We'll have the distress signal out in no time-"

Through a repair hatch, that had been open for Devicers to go in an out to check the Shuttle's externals, a litany of roars carried from the distance reached all the way inside the shuttles interior. "That can't be good." A crewmen said slowly.

"Turrets online! Marines form up!" The flurry of activity sprung from a flurry of orders, and soon the Captain of the marine force heard the news. "Sergeant! Get your men together!" He called into the distance. "Attention! Squads form up! Clear this encampment back to the Tower!"

Another roar from the distance.

Little did the Pact Rhine troops know, the aliens were actually closer then they thought. Departing from the orbiting flotilla of Angenterian warships, the trio of Thunderhawk-Class dropships touched down nearly on the cold, icy surface of the planet below. Carrying ten troops each, the thirty-man landing party quickly and efficiently disembarked from their drop-craft, which promptly pulled back into the sky, maintaining a close distance to the operational zone, ready to swoop in at a moments notice to provide fire support or pick them up if the situation turned bad. The troops themselves, members of the flotilla's Imperial Guard detachment, came ready. Sporting cold-weather heat-cloaks, rebreather masks, and white camo gear, the troops got themselves together, checking over their equipment.

Sergeant Gabriel Marius looked left and right, scanning the terrain. He didn't see anything important, of course. Just endless white as far as the eye could see. The constant snowfall probably had something to do with it.

Looking around, Marius saw his auspex operator running up to him, the bulky auspex detector on his back.

"Sergeant." He saluted. "Auspex's picking up some sort of power surge nearby."

"Where?"

"Southeast of us, sir. Maybe a kilometer or so."

"Well, it's a start." Marius turned to his troops, tapping his vox-bead. "Move out! We're going southeast!" He pointed to the southeast. A flurry of acknowledgments came back at him, and the guardsmen began to move out in that direction, ready for anything that may come their way.

"Move!" The Captain tapped Each sergeant on the shoulder, and they in turn uniformly lead a line of four men behind them. Two Platoons and one command squad positioned themselves near the Prefab wall, which was about three and a half metres tall, and positioned around a break in the iceshelf that ramped down towards the frozen waste.

Two Chainlinked guns we're mounted on the far sides of the wall, and about a dozen men climbed up the walkway and onto the makeshift barricade. The rest of the Marines we're spaced out, in defensive positions leading up to the control tower.

Orsidious looked out to the frozen wastes, but hadn't spotted anything unusual yet. Which again he noted wasn't much of a surprise.

He nearly jumped when the CommLink reactivated. Soon chatter between squads was back. And orders were now passed along far more effectively, more or less. The H.U.D and the Combat Monocle traced a firing marker, between 400 and 150 metres. On the bottom left it showed his shield counter rising with the Command Access rebooted, but just barely.

The Marine switched on his Plasma Repeater's counter, which showed it at full charge. More information was added to the H.U.D, like energy coolant readings, damage to sections of inner plating, and oxygen and heart rate for the wearer.

It was hardly noticed by the veteran sergeant, who had grown used to the armour like it was a second skin, and the H.U.D like it was his second sight. He was prepared to face anything.

Or at least he thought.

The Imperial troops moved like any other well-trained military unit. The forward elements moved forward while the rear provided cover for the advance. Once they had achieved a certain distance, the rear would move ahead, while the forward provided their own cover. Move and cover, move and cover. They did this for some time, this moving and covering business, advancing the kilometer or so towards the source of the power surge their portable -if it can even be called that- auspex detected. Sergeant Marius looked left and right. Nothing could be seen aside mile-long tracts of endless white.

But the reactions of his troops told him differently.

"Sarge!" A his auspex operator, sliding in beside him. "This thing's picking something up."

"What is it?"

The soldier pulled off the bulky auspex unit off his back, and began setting it up. Unfolding it, he set the small satellite dish in the snow, and attached the pict screen.

"From what it looks like, sir, this thing's detecting a number of bio-signs not too far from here." He pointed to a location on the pict screen. "About five hundred meters that way." He pointed in a direction for a moment. "If I do this..." He flicked a small switch on the auspex screen, displaying topographical data. "It's elevated, probably some sort of iceshelf."

"And the power surge...it came from there?"

"That's what I think, sir."

"I see..." Marius thought for a moment, considering his options. "Get me the vox."

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

The trio of Thunderhawks, upon receiving a call from the ground team, swooped down from their position in the inner atmosphere, penetrating the thick cloud cover that blanketed the planet. Slowing their speed ever so slightly, they dived down towards the ground, approaching the designated coordinates. From a distance, it seemed like a tiny plateau, a part of higher elevation that was raised from the snowy plains. Upon getting closer, the pilots were sure they were able to make out structures, while servitors viciously logged every bit of data the auspex scanners could pick up. They flew directly over the iceshelf, low enough for anyone on it to make it out clearly enough.

"Overflight!" A few Marines spotted it with the help of targeting directive, though the barest limits of scanning only showed that they we're out of weapons range, not that it would be smart to shoot at something that can probably put a bomb right on top of you.

Captain Anthony called up to his sergeant on the 'battlement'. "If they go below the combat range of 3000 feet, nail 'em with the Chainguns." "Sir."

A few pilots bold enough to risk sticking their necks outside spotted the aircraft scanning the iceshelf. A few of them even ran over to their craft, just in case it started getting worth disobeying orders and taking off to engage.


"Hostile?" A crew member asked, looking up from his console. "I don't think so, but damn if I'm surprised to see them. We hadn't even sent out a signal."

"Chop it up to luck, we should expect contact soon. Not sure if its good news or not. Maybe its some guys who don't quite like our looks?"

This brought up a few nervous chuckles, but the tension was still uneasy in the Command Shuttle. "Are the check ups done?" A moment of pause. "Yes sir, all the hatches are closed up, the Devicers say the external read outs are good."

"And the signal?"



Attention! Nearby spacers, a battle has driven crew to ground. Please send aide.

The message was merely a formality, but the distress signal was clear enough for transmission into space.

Planetside

"Sarge!" The vox operator shouted, waving Marius over. "I think you should hear this."

"Is it the thunderhawks?" Marius asked, moving in behind the vox-operator, who was busy listening intently to his headphones, and turning several dials on the vox-caster, trying to boost the signal.

"No, sir. It from some survivors."

"Emperor...they're alive?"

"It looks like it. Apparently, the flyboys flew right over them."

"Gimme that!" Marius snatched the headphones from the vox-officer, sticking his ear into one of the speakers.


Attention! Nearby spacers, a battle has driven crew to ground. Please send aide.

"It's pretty strong." The vox-man commented. "They must have some real equipment up there."

Ignoring his comment, Marius grabbed the vox-mic from the unit, almost knocking the caster on it's side.

Survivors, this is Sergeant Gabriel Marius. We're on the ground, about five-hundred meters northwest from your position. We're on the way.

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Pax Imperator

The bridge was as quiet as a tomb, only the silent humming of the cogitators breaking the silence as the Commodore and crew eagerly awaited news from the landing party. Harris sat back in his command chair, pressing a few buttons on the armrest. Suddenly, an excited officer broke the silence.

"We're getting a transmission, sir!" She said, hitting various buttons on her console. "It's weak, but it's there."

"Play it."


Attention! Nearby spacers, a battle has driven crew to ground. Please send aide.

The bridge crew listened intently as the message played over the bridge audio-casters.

"Send a reply. Tell them we're coming."

Attention survivors,
This is Commodore Davian Harris of the Angenterian Imperial Navy. We've received your message, and are ending rescue teams to assist you.

Attention survivors,
This is Commodore Davian Harris of the Angenterian Imperial Navy. We've received your message, and are ending rescue teams to assist you.

"Did he say Angenterian Imperial Navy?" Some chatter. "I think so. Where did the charts place them?"

"I'd consult the charts now if they wern't already right here!" There was some talk about that among the crew. "Well reply!...Sir."


exe.Active Transmission

exe.Start Broadcast

Connection Ready

Commodore, quite honestly, its good news to see you. I don't know who you people are, and what your doing here, but your here none the less. This is Acting Commander Khovaz. My superior had gone down with the our Cruiser like many others. May Steel bless them.

We spotted your overflight, and traced it across roughly half the iceshelf we're residing on. Hold on...

We just got word from your ground team. Their on the way. We'll delegate messages through them if it please you.

The landing party advanced with more purpose now, moving more quickly now that they knew there were confirmed survivors. Eventually, they came into view of what they were told was the ice shelf. From the ground, it looked like an improvised mini-fortress. Short prefabricated walls stood over the edges of the shelf, and a small tower jutted out from it, probably the survivor's command center.

"They built that?" A guardsman commented, looking up at the shelf.

"It's probably that prefab shit." Another said. "Except their pieces actually fit together."

"Quiet!" Sergeant Marius ordered, the two bantering soldiers shutting up almost instantly. They stopped at the foot of the natural ramp.

"Hey up there!" Marius bellowed, his voice enhanced by the vox-mic in his hand. "Anyone alive?"

A flood light turned on, and it slowly guided itself on the search party. Then it shut off. "Ho down there!" A red armoured man with a blue lighted visor and a distinct clear monocle waved with one arm.

"You the boys that sent the overflight?" The wall was a little more active now. A two squads could be seen looking down, but a another Marine muscled his way to where the one that addressed the Angenterians. "That'll be all Sergeant." The Marine saluted. "Sir."

"Are you the party that this...Commodore sent down? I assume. I am Captain Eilir Anthony." A distinctly female voice with a hard tone was heard now, which was sign that she had taken off her helmet. "Who the fuck are you?"

Marius waved up at the armored marines on top of the battlements, or whatever could pass as battlements from the improvised barricades that were arranged in a neat, ordered row in a ring around the ice shelf.

"Are you the party that this...Commodore sent down? I assume. I am Captain Eilir Anthony. Who the fuck are you?"

"The unlucky bunch that got picked to go down to this Emperor-Forsaken shit-hole!" Marius shouted back. "Sergeant Gabriel Marius, at your service!"

"Well then! Welcome our little piece of Steel forsaken paradise! I couldn't have picked a finer hellhole to end up on."

A few feet down, there was a loud noise as a large panel lowered itself from the wall, revealing a gateway of sorts. "Sergeant and two escort, no more then that."

The Marine vanished for a moment, and appeared at the entrance to the encampment.

Marius quickly pointed to the two unlucky men who happened to be bantering before about the ice shelf. He smirked.

"Guess whose lucky day it is? Let's go."

The two men groaned in regret as they quickly, but silently moved to accompany their sergeant into the survivors camp. Arriving at the gates, Marius removed his re-breather, felling a chill as the cold hit his face.

"Well." He said, taking a look inside. "Reminds me of home..."

"Does it now? Well I welcome you to our 'homey' little affair here." The Marine whistled and another Marine dropped down. "Inform the Commander the party has arrived."

"Now, Gaius was it? Do you think we could get a ride to the nearest Pact Rhine station? I'm not the only one who doesn't like this ice ball." The Marine turned around and called a stand down to about two dozen Marines pointing their weapons at the new arrivals. "We have Drop Ships and the Command Shuttle in tact. And we even managed to save some of the fighters, but as you know, no FTL drive, no home."

Ignoring the mistake in his first name, Marius moved to follow the Pact Rhine trooper into the encampment. It was actually worse on the inside. The higher elevation made it more susceptible to cross-wind. Marius put his mask back on, thankful for what little inkling of warmth it provided.

"We can probably help you guys out in that area." Marius replied. "What happened up there, anyways?"

"We we're part of The Movement. The Homeworld has been sending patrol after patrol into the Outter Sector to keep the local riffraff down. Pirates and the like. Our Cruiser and escort found a few of their ships, and we chased them down into this system. Only we got tricked. There were more waiting for us, and they boxed us in. The Frigates got blown to bits, and whatever was left of them and the enemy fleet got turned into scrap after The Commander overloaded the reactors. I was on the last Drop Ship out."

The Captain pulled on her helmet as the cold started to wear at her. "I hate this planet."

Marius stood silently, listening to the soldier's report of what happened. It seemed like the classic hook, line, and sinker strategy. You could never tell when you were dealing with pirates. Some had the intelligence of an Ork. Others, well...

Nodding, he turned to one of his men. "Get Beltyan, have him vox the dropships, and tell them to put down here. I think we've been here long enough."

"Yes, sir." The soldier responded, before running back down the ice-ramp towards the waiting gaggle of Angenterian troops. He turned back to the Pact Rhine captain.

"Are you bunch all that's left?"

"There were some escape pods. The people all knew protocol, wait for the a compatible signal to connect with and wait. Command probably has all of them accounted for now, so before we load up the Dropships and what remains of our fighter wings and take off, we'll have to go and pick all of them up. Its protocol, we can't leave them here. Not just because we can't leave them behind. Who knows what people got into those pods, if someone should happen to poke their noses around here and notice a signal waiting, they could pluck them off this planet and squeeze them for information."

The Captain looked up at the tower. "They all landed around the iceshelf. It will most likely take between two or three hours to check each location, and pick up any survivors. We can probably account for that. All we need you guys to do is wait in orbit while we get underway-"

"Captain!" The Marine turned around. "Hostiles!"

There was an explosion near the barricade, which fountained ice and snow. "Its the Pirates! They got a tank or something coming up the ramp! There must be two score of 'em!"

"Everyone! To your positions!" Barked the Captain. Two Marines manned the Twinlinked Chainguns, and prepared to fire. There was another close explosion. "Sergeant! Get your men behind the barricade!"