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Made in de
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot






Making haste through the buzzing corridors of the segmentum high command as best as possible under the circumstances, Lord Commissar Valeria Jacquard and her entourage finaly reached the secured armaplast doors of the conference chamber they had been ordered to attend. Even though they were a bit late, she took some moments to straighten her dress uniform again and encourage the other senior officers of the Thoth Askaris that had been present when they were summoned for the emergency meeting to do the same. There was only one opportunity for first impressions and in her experience that tended to be hard enough as it was. Taking another deep breath she nodded towards the stonefaced pair of guards to open the door and entered.

Inside the light had already been dimmed to allow the attendes a better look at the holo-display that was currently whipped into function by the valiant efforts of an adept of the machine god, but fortunately the Munitorum Clerk in charge of the briefing did not seem to have reached the briefing itself yet, still muttering on about the logistic difficulties of setting up this meeting on such a short notice and the amount of his work that piled up while he wasted time to do this. The room was buzzing with low pitched chatter and muttering from all directions and Valeria ushered her staff towards some free spaces in the second row that were still free, trying to get an impression about the other forces present. Before she could do that though, the holographic image suddenly sprang online with a high pitched wistle showing three pulsating dots indicating the awakening of the machine spirits inside. The clerk – a small, ratfaced man with a pale complexion indicating that he might never had seen non-artificial life in decades, if at all in his lifetime – cleared his throat to call everyone to order and the chatter died down – mostly. His nasal voice was surprisingly loud, most likely vox amplified, so that it wasn’t to hard to follow even over the buzzing and occasional ionizing cracking of the holo.

“As mentioned, the Kaliphera System lies in the Segmentum Ultima, not far from the Damocles gulf. While an imperial system it has been cut off by local warp storms and turbulences for almost a century now, with only sparse successful contact in these last decades. None the less this seems to have changed as our astropaths sensed the tides of the Empyrium are calming, opening up safe warp routes again within the next week…” Valeria did not really like the sound of that, as there was an unspoken ‘we have no idea for how long’ hanging in the air.

“… we already received a message from the local imperial authorities, speaking of trouble within the system, obviously fueled by the self declared T’au Empire interfering somehow. From what we gathered from the message various Xenos have been dealing with the local trading dynasties for decades lobbying for their cause. By now the dissent has grown quite severe and there has been turmoil between imperium abiding loyalists, traitorous xenos sympathizers and others that advocate for neutrality and independence. We have been called to aid to bring the system back into the imperial fold. But the situation might be easier to understand after a short briefing of the systems makeup. For all information following keep in mind that it is mostly based on outdated data as communication has been brittle so far and we weren’t able to update all of it yet.” With that the holo began to display a moving, 3-dimensional image of 9 planets orbiting a red-orange star.
His tone shifting a bit towards something reminding her of the monotonous tone of her high gothic teacher in the schola the clerk continued, skimming through the dataslate in his hand:

“First of we have Kaliphera primus and its moon, both Agri worlds and vital for the systems provisions. Nothing special according to our data. Warm and humid, a couple of million farmers, no pdf forces or factions of influence to speak of.
Next of would be Kopernica, which is under Adeptus Mechanicus Administration. We were yet unable to contact them. A hundred years ago it was a small research outpost, but we assume they should be a fleshed out forgeworld by now. Note that due to their rotational synchronization they have been on the opposite side of the central star compared to the other settled planets for the last 200 years and will continue to be there for the next centuries too. According to what we gathered they have stayed out of the ensuing conflict so far and are isolationist, limiting their dealings with the rest of the system to what is necessary for their survival.
The vast majority of the population lives on Kaliphera Tertius and Quartus, locally called Kalypso and Kornelius. The former is a civilized word, with dense population centres on the southern continents. As far as we know something around 5 billion inhabitants, predominantly loyalist, but there are some local government bodies that advocate the Xenos-sympathizers cause. Kornelius on the other hand is a small hive world, with roughly 6 to 7 times the population and leans in the other direction, even though the majority seems to be still undecided.
Next of we have Kaliphera Quintus, locally called Kataractus – burning deserts at the equator, a frozen wasteland at the poles and jungles teeming with tank sized lizards in between. A world only a Catachan could love, but filled to the brim with rare ores. Ores that would be invaluable for the supply of a second Damocles crusade…
Kaliphera sextus to octavus are dwarf planets that were undeveloped last time we heard of them, but Kaliphera nonus is a gas giant with varius promethium processing plants and a navy supply stations as well as two big dry docks that is elementary for any long term fleet disposition.

So far this whole dissent I was talking about has been fought mostly political and economically, as the system had to hold together to stay self-sufficient. But obviously all sides have raised significant numbers of PDF and prepared for conflict. The balance has been shifting more and more towards the Xenos sympathizers the longer the system has been separated, but the calming warp has tipped the scales obviously. Our reports indicate that several loyalist outposts have been attacked with no survivors found and thus we have been called to dispatch reinforcements with all haste possible. The assets present are those that will be sent as a first response, as you are the only ones that can immediately be deployed into this theater. Depending on the further developments there might be further reinforcements coming. You will find information about your accompanying forces in the briefing material forwarded to your dataslates.
Your mission for now is to bolster the loyalist defenses and await further orders.
Any questions so far?”

Lord Commissar Jacquard raised a questioning eyebrow more to herself than anyone else while she skimed through the gathered officers, now that her eyes had adjusted to the dim light. From what she saw they were quite few for such an endeavor. And that her Askaris made up a significant proportion of that shed no good light on the probabilities of success the Munitorum had calculated for it. But maybe she was too pessimistic and this time they were really only selected because they were the right force at the right time and not because they were… the most expandable present.






Dataslate entry: Thoth Askaris
present regiments:

2nd-4th, 27th-33rd 54th-63rd light infantry (10.000 each, 200.000 total)
1st-6th, 12th-15th, 89th-99th cavalry (5.000 each, 100.000 total, various rough riders, light tanks)
other assets:
various requisitioned unarmed troop transports, converted asteroid ore mining ships, few escort vessels.
Command:
Acting General: Lord Commissar Valeria Jacquard
Mhadi King Bantu, Serasker Rasul al'Ankra
Notes: Combat performance deemed grade iota.
Unsatisfactory equipment (half the contingent uses iron wood shields instead of flak armor, lasguns partly substituted with autoguns, various non-standard and outdated vehicles).
Various complaints about poor dress discipline (61), intense battlefield salvages (24) unsanctioned requisition of civilian vehicles (45).
Positive recommendations from the Commissariat for low desertion rate, bravery in the field and commendable close combat capability.
Positive recommendation from High command during the Laquista Alpha campaign for operating over a year without supply lines.
(overall suspiciously few battle honors compared to their number of deployments, obviously not well liked by the Administrativum according to their supply situation and the type of deployments they get).



This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2021/04/18 14:23:23


~5600 build and painted 
   
Made in de
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot






Thoth Askaris

Overall Command staff / Regimental Advisors
Lord Commissar Valeria Jacquard
Junior Commissar Butch Baker
Sister Leonora - Sister of the Orders Sabine
Missionary Hakeem/Al'Abu - Missionar Galactica
Samira saba Jamila - Senior Adepta Telepathica

Regiments and Personel of note:
2nd Thoth Maghrebian Long Range Group (ligth infantry)
Iskandar ben Fasil
12th Thoth Magrebian heavy cavalry (light tanks):
Rasul al’Ankra

3rd Thoth Askaris unified N’Go tribes
Overall Command: King Bantu:
his second: Ashanti

27th N’Go tribals
Naqib Shaka Latu

1st Thoth Askari light Cavalry
King Juba III.
14th Thoth Askari light Cavalry
Mahud Omar

This message was edited 6 times. Last update was at 2021/04/18 14:18:36


~5600 build and painted 
   
Made in ie
Nurgle Veteran Marine with the Flu





Cork, Ireland

Obsidian figures flanked Tyraxis as he emerged from his manse in full Baleful Glass regalia. Armoured head to toe in black artisan armour, each edge giving way to venomous green. Green skin flowed from his shoulders, stitched with elegant car and attention. A sword hung from his hip, a relic from bygone days. The statues came in all shapes and sizes, most eternally captured in a moment of agonising pain. Tyraxis never tired of the look on their faces. He smiled as he turned to the two Archons following his prideful gait. "Welcome to my Garden of Glass!" He proclaimed "And in a manner of speaking my predecessors". Archon Alistra of the Burning Mask work ceremonial silver armour with orange silks wrapped around her. Snow White hair limps over the right hand side of her face which is burned horrifically. She rolled her eyes to the moons held hostage above. "I care not for failures Tyraxis, particularly those that can't even bleed." She ran a fingernail down the cheek of an Elder, his face contorted into a hopeless cry for help. "Ah, Karazar the Red. A formidable warrior of the lower tiers. He forged his kabal from lowly street thugs, his eye cast ever upwards. So much so that he never saw the plague that ran riot in his own manse". "A common tale, for a common dreg" announced Harakor of the Bloody Dawn. An older Eldar, his armour was a deep crimson hue, with a cloak of white skin trailing behind him. "Still..this collection is rather impressive. Have you ever considered that you might be counted amongst their number one day?". A blunt and idle threat. Tyraxis parted his lips into a courteous smile and wandered to a confused figure "I already am, I had Vaeryth clone myself and subject them to Jalaxlar's virus. The statue's resemblance was like looking in a horrifying mirror. Harakor nodded in admiration although his genuinity was a matter of debate.

"Are you ready for the upcoming raid?" Said Alistra, running out of whatever patience she could spare "My warriors are already assembling on the catacombs, with orders to defend themselves if provoked." "They won't be" assured Tyraxis "I have scoured whatever meaningful resistance there was from my territory long ago. Unless some street rats give you cause for concern? "Enough" Said Harakor, "What of the Supreme Overlord?" Harakor's words dripped with fear, Tyraxis thought. "He hunts these Ynnari relentlessly, these hidden meetings grant him all the suspicion he needs to wipe us from his city." "We are no Ynnari!" Alistra spat, still raging from Tyraxis' earlier jibe "Or are you having second thoughts?" Tyraxis knew he would have his hands full keeping this alliance together for the raid, but he at least thought he might make it out of the dark city before things boil over. "Plans and promises have been made, nobody is backing out of anything now." Tyraxis snapped. Alistra's face curled back into a snarl, while Harakor followed up with another tiring question "Are you absolutely sure the gate is active? Vect knows about every gate in his domain Tyraxis, even yours I'm sure." "It was inactive for centuries Harakor, crones say it goes as far back as the War in Heaven. Even before Vect's time."

Harakor opened his mouth to speak again, but Tyraxis grew tired of his incessant questions. Time had rendered him cautious and fearful. "Make your final preparations and rendezvous at the catacombs, we strike soon."

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2021/04/18 13:41:07


Sgt. Vanden I bet Irish can do that by flashing his bear chest.
Sgt. Vanden Irish is the definition of a Dutch oven
 
   
Made in ie
Nurgle Veteran Marine with the Flu





Cork, Ireland

The catacombs that lingered in Tyraxis' territory had stood for centuries. A relic from the ancient noble houses that were swept away by the hand of Vect. For centuries it housed the desperate, street gangs, runaway slaves or Ur-Ghuls. The Catacombs had repelled them all, at some stage or the other. Tyraxis and his predecessors had paid it little mind. Occasionally a squad of kabalite warriors would take it unto themselves to scour the ruins either out of boredom or sport, perhaps both. Rotting bones paid Tyraxis little heed nor did the inactive gate buried towards the rear of the complex. It had been inactive for centuries, as far back as most of Tyraxis' kabal could remember. The Wraithbone arches stood discoloured and derelict and most likely led to some satellite realm destroyed long ago by the fall. Until one day Tyraxis' warriors reported that during a somewhat routine cleansing of the catacombs, the gate attempted to activate. Sputtering to life with great effort only to fade back to irrelevance. Now the catacombs has Tyraxis' attention. Slaves hacked away at the ancient weathered stone that imprisoned the gate for so long. In an ironic twist of fate many of them died in their efforts, Tyraxis found some measure of joy that it was a fitting place for them to expire.

Tyraxis approached what seems to be more of a quarry than Catacombs. The entrance had been widened significantly to allow the flow of forces and slaves alike. "Archon Tyraxis!" Bellowed Yarys, as he lashed a Khymera back Into the pack. "How much longer must we wait? My beasts grow restless." Yarys' menagerie was sprawled outside the catacombs, packs of ravenous Khymera snapped amongst one another occasionally being whipped when one began to wander too far from the pack. Razorwings fluttered and screeched inside their cages, eager to spread their wings and hunt for prey. The subject of many handlers was the clawed fiends, large beats of fur and muscle, their large eyes taking in multiple spectrums at once. "All in good time Yarys, your beasts seem in good order." Yarys bowed his head, his face obscured by his helm "For now Archon." Tyraxis furrowed his brow, who was this Beastmaster talking to? Certainly not him, the Archon of the Baleful Glass! "Ensure they remain so Beastmaster or you will feel the bite of your own lash".

Tyraxis strutted away from Yarys into the expanded, dimly lit passages of the fallen. In the distance a swirling purple and blue light shine bright illuminating many shadowy figures. The passage led down into a large courtyard of sorts where more of his forces had assembled. Archon Harakor and Archon Alistra stood ready donned in the regalia of their respective Kabals along with their escorts. Scourges and hellions, frustrated to be within the confines of the catacombs eagerly drew closer to the portal, eager to slaughter or be slaughtered as the vanguard. Wracks from their master Vaeryth held rifles and blades with a somewhat clumsy acumen, the haemonculus was uncharacteristically late, something Tyraxis would remind him of later. Tyraxis scanned the shadows in the corner of the room, he fixated on a corner to his right and approached granting his fellow Archons a courtesy nod. "Quite the force you have assembled Tyraxis, plenty of shares to be paid." A figure materialised from the darkness or perhaps he was there the entire time. "K'sharic I trust you and your brothers are ready? The Deployment of Vaeryth's viruses will be paramount to this raids success". Sharp teeth advanced from parting lips "Paramount you say? I should have argued for a larger share." The teeths retreated behind the cracked, dry lips again. "The mandrakes are ready to deliver your poisons Tyraxis." Tyraxis turned to face his gathered forces, the last of which poured Into the courtyard.

"Drukhari of Commorragh, we stand to embark on the first of many raids through this warp gate. To bring terror and panic to untold masses who we will snap in shackles and drag them back to our city. To force them to be out playthings, to force them to realise they are bought but cattle to the true Eldar. That their Imperium is nothing but a feeding ground to the empire that came before! Vanguard Into the breach and show the humans their folly once more!"

His vanguard of Scourges, venoms and Hellions rushed forth as the gate consumed them all. The time of action was now. Time would tell if his plans would hold or if they would fall apart in spectacular fashion. He gathered himself, gave a nod to Scaur his incubi bodyguard and rushed through the gate, sword raised.

Spoiler:
Second introductory piece before arriving in the sector. Kaliphera will burn!




Sgt. Vanden I bet Irish can do that by flashing his bear chest.
Sgt. Vanden Irish is the definition of a Dutch oven
 
   
Made in au
Storm Trooper with Maglight







Field marshal Kendal fought the urge to chew his finger nails as he exited the briefing room to make his way back to his temporary headquarters. It’d not do well to look nervous in front of Genral Kiro, General Stenart ,General Lisander and Commisar Lord Marsh. Particularly Marsh.

He’d been in the game long enough to know that half of what they’d just been told would be useful till they punched into the Kaliphera System. The other half would be vital during the conflict, the issue being it was never so easy to distinguish the two.

There was something he didn’t like, it wasn’t that he’d be operating away from the main forces of the 4th Legion and it wasn’t the arrogance of the scion commanders he’d met in the briefing or that the other main contingent they’d work beside was a rag tag unit.

Although he’d heard that a regiment from that world, the Askaris had been among the first imperial troops to arrive in the Commonwealth sector during the recent crisis. And the Commisar lord that seemed to be directing these forces looked like the no-nonsense type. She seemed the quiet and efficient type which hopefully meant that the unit was in good shape.

Regardless he didn’t like the prospect of working with this unit. Cadians were good, if you could get them, you knew where you stood with them. The capability of this force he was expected to work with was anyone’s guess. It was a mixed bag.

“Any officers or NCOs who have served alongside the Askaris during the crisis is to submit a report. I want a feel for who we fight besides.” He told his generals.




They made their way from the twisting corridors of the command room and to the command post’s landing pad. A Urothrian Navy cutter was waiting to carry him to his temporary headquarters aboard the transporter Auroch.

Kendal’s commlink buzzed. Garos, his adjutant.

“Sir the Count is waiting outside your office to see you.”

Kendal bit his lip. Didn’t he have enough to worry about without being landed with a bunch of knights? He had a army to organise and scant little time to coordinate with the other forces. On one hand he was glad of the opportunity of the company of more people from the homeland and the knights were formidable in battle, on the other he was at ‘an understanding’ with the count
when it came to command, and that wasn’t exactly the descriptor that implyied the type of situation conductive to fighting together.

He could only pray that their enthusiasm had been tempered by the recent crisis, they could be a downright liability for their unpredictability. Or their completely predictable disinclination to cooperate sometimes. But the fact of their presence here would suggest that they were still quite enthusiastic.

Kendal would have given anything to fight during the crisis, but he would not have immediately afterwards voluntarily left to look for battle in the greater Imperium.



Kendal stepped down the ramp of the cutter and into cavernous cargo bay which was humming with activity. In the legion redeployments happened often. Every soldier knew their place so it worked like a huge well oiled machine, of course it wasn’t without the regular raised voice of an NCO keeping the parts going and along the lines they were supposed to be. It was a joy to watch.


Kendal entered his headquarters. Count Hargrave was there with two lesser knights, the little headquarters was rather cramped.

As always, the Count and his knights were dressed in finery. Hand spun silk and velvet coats in with badges and colours of their arms. The count himself wore a plaque belt with engraved scenes of battles in which he’d served. All three knights sported fresh honours from the crisis. Service on Ardus, service on Klomn.

He recognised one of the knights immediately, Lusrine Kendal, his cousin as old as he was. It caught the field marshal by surprise but it was a welcome one. The other knight was much younger. Easily the youngest man in the room. The man had relatively new looking prosthetics and otherwise looked very out of place, clearly someone who wasn’t used to this end of the business, a freshly minted knight perhaps? A beneficiary or protégé?

It was always a bit confusing and hard to read with knights. It was why he was personally glad to personally have nothing to do with those obligations that his family had inherited.

“Count Hargrave.” He greeted the man.

“Field Marshal.” “My apologies for not arriving sooner, our departure was delayed, some traitors attempted a bombing and attempted to assault the Valndris starport. Which was lightly garrisoned.”

Valndris was a secondary port, it made sense that security might be stretched elsewhere and that the more major ports would be in heavy used since the crisis. It all meant that Valndris was both a critical target and a relatively soft one.

“Did they do much damage?” Kendal found himself asking.

Hargrave shrugged. “By good timing my host had ready access to their armaments.” Hargrave gave the hint of a grin that implied it might not have just been good luck.

The man could not follow basic arms protocol entering the starport. Perhaps it had been lucky, but to Kendal’s mind protocol was often in place for a reason.

Kendal bit the inside of his lip in a way that no-one would see. His stomach was crawling and he could not think of eating despite knowing it was something he had to do sooner or later. He tried to tell himself he had done everything he could to be ready for the campaign but it did not help.

Commonwealth Kaliphera task force of the Commonwealth 4th Legion
Field Marshall Kendal


Fleet Assets
Admiral Tacitus

Escort fleet
2x cruisers
6x destroyers
1x ship carrier
Transports

Ground Assets

General Stendart

126th Calathian Republic expeditionary force
Combat Strength ~60 000 fighting personnel
24000 Infantry Regiment
8000 Mechainsed Infantry Regiment
8000 mountain infantry Regiment
8000 artillerymen Regiment
4000 tank Regiment
4000 Assault Pioneer Regiment
1st Combat group
1221st, 331st ,332nd 334th 335th 336th Infantry regiments 456th Mechanised Infantry regiment
221st field regiment 113th field regiment 112th Tank regiment 721st Pioneer assault regiment
2nd Combat group
811th 212nd 334th Infantry regiments 635th 636th Mountain regiments 056th Mechanised Infantry regiment 210st field regiment 133rd field regiment 129th Tank regiment 981st Pioneer Assault regiment

General Kiro

78th Commonwealth Combined Tank Brigade
~40 000 Fighting Personnel
2000 Mechainsed Engineers Regiment
2000 Breakthought Tank Regiment
4000 Heavy tank Regiment
8000 Tank Regiment
24000 Mechiansied Infantry Regiment

921st Mechanised Engineers regiment
1st Battle Group
85th Breakthrough Tank Regiment 891st Heavy tank regiment 99/93rd Tank Regiment 841st 730th 29/355th Mechainsed Infantry regiment
2nd Battle Group
741st Heavy tank regiment 783rd 549th 784th Tank Regiment 346th 21/12th 293rd Mechainsed Infantry regiment

General Lisander
45th Commonwealth Combined Armoured Brigade
~40000 Fighting Personnel
24000 Infantry Regiment
8000 Cavalry Regiment
8000 Artillery Regiment
1st battle group
142nd 950th 909th Infantry regiment
113th 215th Cavalry Regiment
400th Artillery regiment 331st Artillery Regiment

2nd battle group
142nd 950th 909th Infantry regiment
116th 921st Cavalry Regiment
400th Artillery regiment 331st Artillery Regiment

154th Ardus Line Brigade
~20000 Fighting Personnel
16000 Infantry Regiment
4000 artillery Regiment
Ardus 214th Infantry Brigade
142nd 950th 909th 143rd Infantry regiment
400th Artillery regiment 331st Artillery Regiment

Klomn Knight Contingent
Count Hargrave

32 Knight lances
50 Armiger lances
1200 soldiers including power armoured knights.

This message was edited 5 times. Last update was at 2021/05/01 23:54:25


   
Made in ca
Heroic Senior Officer





Krieg! What a hole...

Four shapes silently sliced through realspace, emerging from the warp back to reality. The Imperial ships were optimized for stealth, while not truly infiltrators, their primary task was not direct combat, but rather, to deliver their paylod of troops and materiel with swiftness and subtelty. Pink and purple flames clung for about a standard minute to one of the smaller sihp, an escort, there to support the light cruiser at the center of their formation.

''The Redemption Blade has suffered through the trip. A report will be produced, do be ready, Tempestor Prime, your men may be used to purge the vessel'' the metallic voice from the Captain of the Swift Guardian broke the silence that took the bridge of the Light Cruiser after the alarm klaxons blarring had stopped.

The Prime nodded and grunted, the duty of purging was one that came with worse sort of risks, not something the man was eager to deal with. ''The Eighty-Fifth will be ready, I'll have two companies load up the Valkyries, and the flamers'' Gallus Tauron reached for his slate monitron, sending orders for his seconds to meet. He paused at the arch of the door ''Do we know what year we've landed in? How many months have we jumped? Forward, backward?''

The Captain fingers ran over strange tools and cogitators. ''Unknown, the instruments are suffering from the attacks of the Warp, a report...''

''Will be produced'' The Tempestor Prime answered with a weary sigh.


Swift Guardian cargo bay

It was standard procedure, after a warp exit, to have at least two companies of Scions in gear and almost strapped into the benches of the assault crafts. Such preparations were overseen by one of the Battalion Tempestor Secundus, in this case, it felt squarely on the shoulders of Castella Lank. She had drawn the short straw against the other Secundus, and would be leading the purging efforts if such we warranted. She reviewed the assembled troops, eighteen sections of men and women in bulky carapace armor. Many carried the standard issue Hellguns, their large scopes replaced in favor of smaller red-dot sights, more fitting for the cramped confines of a ship. Weapon specialists were packing flamers, for the most part, ideal for purging corruption and minimizing overpenetration and further damage of the ship internal systems, even her usual grenade launcher had been replaced, though she kept her bolt pistol strapped to her thigh plate. Her eyes, hidden by the Omnimask she wore, rested on four Scions who carried Meltaguns. Directly under the control of their senior Tempestors, those would be critical in removing possible obstacles the Stormtroopers might encounter in a possibly damaged ship, the extra firepower would be handy, should the horrors of the warp prove too troublesome for lighter weapons other Scions carried.

Her Slate screen took a green tinge, a soft glow and a tightening of the bracers that kept it on her wrist. Orders, then, better not keep the Prime waiting.


Swift Guardian training bay

The moment those damned klaxons stopped, Tempestor Secundus Riley Enoch barked orders, his tone befitting of the aggressive tactics favored by his ''Fist''. The ''other'' 85th, the one that had been melded into the larger reconnaissance battalion. The man had to keep his own airborne assault unit tradition alive, such as nicknaming the unit after its commander. Or carrying the relic Hellgun that was once the pride of his batallion, hundred of years of tradition now rest on his shoulders, and that of the men who were running drills in the huge room provided for such. Near a hundred meters high, almost four times that length, they couldn't fly a Valkyrie in there, but it certainly was high enough for the elite troops under his command to practise almost anything they had to, short of extreme heights drops. For now, regular drills would have to do, with Scions jumping out of a mock up of a Valk, activating their gravchutes about halfway through the fall. The Secundus made a final check up on the 'chute and his weapon, ensuring his stormknife was sheathed tightly in its scabbard, and that his Hellgun wouldn't catch on anything upon landing. The interior of the mock glew with a green light, and the man was out, dropping like a rock through the air.

Riley had only just activated his gravchute when he felt the familiar sensation of his Slate activating, orders, he ordered his senior Tempestors to carry on and left the room.


Swift Guardian briefing room, about ten mnutes later

A report had indeed been produced. Two, in fact. First thing, the Redemption Blade had suffered physical damage with the outerwordly flames, nothing the Stormtroopers could help with, no Warp monstrosities to purge. Castella looked relieved at the news, and quickly transmitted orders for the companies to stand down. The second one was by far more troubling. Their location was correct, as expected, the Kaliphera System. The date, however, oh, the date. It was centuries ahead of what had been planned! An unspoken concern for the three commanders, what if the Eighty-Fifth had been declared deserters, or lost? Any support they might be able to raise from contacts made on different planets were gone, of that, there was little doubts. The reinforcements from Sable would never have reached them, one thing was for sure, they'd have to offer Guardsmen who distinguished themselves a chance to join their ranks. Amidst the talk came in the report of the numbers of men and women, noone had been lost to the Warp, or suffered permanently to that vile dimension, all thousand and one hundred Stormtroopers accounted for, with a few in the care of the Medicae for the next few days.

''You two are dismissed, I'll have more information on where we will be heading soon'' Gallus concluded their short meeting, a regular occurance after every Warp jump.



Member of 40k Montreal There is only war in Montreal
Primarchs are a mistake
DKoK Blog:http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/419263.page Have a look, I guarantee you will not see greyer armies, EVER! Now with at least 4 shades of grey

Savageconvoy wrote:
Snookie gives birth to Heavy Gun drone squad. Someone says they are overpowered. World ends.

 
   
Made in de
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot






Preparations to put together the intervention force had been pushed through with all possible haste, aiming to make use of the time window for relatively save warp travel prognosed by the Astropaths. While some more smaller imperial units were added to its rooster, the vast majority filling the cargo bays of mass conveyers, commandeered trading vessels and painfully few battleships were composed of Thoth Askaris and Commonwealth troops. It could only be hoped that this was indeed the first wave of reinforcements and that more would arrive should the Kaliphera System hold more trouble than expected.
High Command of the ambitiously named “Crusade” had been given to former Colonel and now High Marshal Francesca Mancini, from the Zetocian Grenadiers. Being already on the brink of an honorable retirement her promotion seemed to be in part meant as a reward for 7 decades of loyal service and as an opportunity to crown her career by ending it on a higher rank. While without a doubt very experienced and competent as commander and decorated by countless battle honors, she had never led a force as patchwork as this and time will tell if she will have to thank the emperor for the opportunity or curse her bad luck for attracting it.



The transit had been mercifully uneventfull and relatively short, dominated by training, maintenance of equipment and general preparation of the Astra Militarum Forces on board. As the Crusade fleet dropped out of the warp outside of Kalipheras Mandeville point, its red-orange sun still a small point of light on the viewports, they began their sublight journey towards the inhabited planets for final deployment, contacting their imperial contacts on those worlds to finally gather reliable information on the situation at hand. The tight time schedule had forced them to reach the system almost blind in this respect and no sane member of the senior command staff felt good about it. High Marshall Mancini had tried her best to get to know the Generals and Colonels under her command as well as the strengths and weaknesses of the forces they led. Following the principle to listen to advise of her subordinates, updated briefing slates had been transferred to the “inner circle” of the highest ranking officers together with a summoning on the crusades flagship to discuss strategy and deployment.

Arriving in a small Aquilla from their Troop Conveyors, Lord Commissar Jacquard was accompanied by King Bantu and Rasul al’Ankra – both technically Colonels of their own regiments, they were as close to the rank of generals of the whole regimento as it got, being the most experienced commanders and charismatic leaders of the Askaris. Rasul was a wiry, sinewy man, with tanned windburned skin and the purple shemagh above his sunbleached Khakis that denoted commanders of the Maghrebian forces of their homeworld. Bantu on the other hand had the dark brown, almost black skin of the N’Go tribes and was thickset and muscular – and obviously uncomfortable in the dress uniform she had urged him to don for this occasion. But a little itching was well worth it to make a good and professional impression to the other commanders. Led by an honorary guard, the trio reached the assortment of rooms and hangars near the bridge that served as command center for the crusade.

Cables covered the floor like vines in a jungle connecting the long banks of cogitators that buzzed like a beehive processing the streams of data tickling in from around the system and struggling to calculate and plan supply lines. They quickly crossed between the Administrativum drones running all over the place and finally reached the small conference room were the meeting was scheduled. Upon entering Valeria snapped her crispest parade ground salute to High Marshall Mancini, Rasul and Bantu doing their best to copy her. Mancini returned the salute “Lord Commissar, Generals… “. The Marshal was in her nineties, but rejunivation treatments had kept her age quite at bay, even though her hair had turned a platin grey. The couple of empty recaff cups on a small side table spoke of some long work hours and she generally radiated and aura of determined, workaholic. Only seconds later, the other commanders arrived too and after the usual exchange of pleasantries the meeting began. In the middle of the room was a large desk with an interactive screen showing maps and datafeeds of the planets.

Leaning back in her large leather chair and stapling her hands together the High Marshall addressed Lord Commissar Valeria first: “While I’m in command, I have made it my principle to hear out my Advisors before making a decision, when there is time. As for now we have this luxury, so I would like to hear each of yours opinions about the situation in this theater and the priorization of targets. While the final decision on where your troops depend on our finally formulated strategy, you know your troops best, so I’m open to suggestions where you think they can best play out their strengths. Lord Commissar Jacquard…” she checked her slate again “… general Bantu, general Rasul, you may begin.”

Valeria glanced the other Commanders and answered, feeling a bit awkward about voicing her view of the overall best strategy – the Askaris usually were not included in this kind of talks. “… During our own strategic briefings we concluded that the key to long term control of the system are the Agri worlds. Securing the systems food production would give us the lever needed to pull against the T’au influence on Kaliphera Quartus. And also if the Ork-infestation on Primus spins out of control we would lose any gains we could win on the other worlds just due to famine.” She checked the other faces again for agreement or dissent on what she said before continuing. “We think the secondary objective would be to get boots on the ground on Kaliphera Tertius. Right now the planet seems to lean to the imperial side, so we can easily land troops, bolster the defenses and solidify our foothold. If we wait too long this might change, especially with the T’au in system and Quartus having the higher population and bigger pdf forces. I might be wrong, but I think if we wait too long they might try to land forces themselves, especially in the northern hemisphere, while the PDF is concentrated to protect the hives in the south. If they do so, repelling them with forces on the ground would be better than suffering through a hot landing under fire later.

Of course we could also deploy head on on the hive world first to smash the xenos influence there, but we – I mean me and my generals – think this might be better left for a point in time where we have secured a solid foothold in the system.”
So far to her general strategy assessment. Valeria nodded to Bantu and Rasul to share their thought about the deployment.

Bantu was first, trying to keep his rather heavy accent down to be understood better and enlarging a map of the eastern hemisphere of Kaliphera Primus. “Thoth is covered in deserts and jungles and our troopers are experienced in fighting in such climate. They will fight in urban areas if that is what need to be done, but if you ask were their strengths lie we should deploy them in the wilderness. I think we might be of best use if we can be deployed in the Limaesa jungle in the east of Kaliphera Primus. Either by bolstering the defenders of Fort Macherius or – if possible – in the east of the jungle, to take the Ork tribes besieging the fortress in the rear.”


Now Rasul took the word to elaborate “We have some tanks, but a lot of our cavalry is mounted on steeds that can feed on the local plants and wildlife. We should be able to fight for a time outside of the supply lines, fighting our way towards Fort Macherius. But only if someone else keeps the pressure up from this direction.
Alternatively our forces could be sensibly used to comb through the forests of Kaliphera Tertius and have eyes in the woods to avoid anyone from getting a beachhead there. We can move quickly and have barely any heavy equipment that would be bogged down between the trees. They could also clear up what happened to the imperial outposts that have went missing on the planet and tip the scales on the local conflict more for the imperial cause.”

Wrapping it up Lord Commissar Valeria concluded “Taking together our recommendation would depend a bit on where the other forces are deployed and if it is considered wiser to concentrate all our forces on one target or split up and cover to planets at once.”

High Marshall Mancini nodded, without any obvious sign of her opinion on what was said and was about to give the word to the Marshall of the commonwealth forces, as an Administrativum clerk entered the conference room. “Pray excuse me your Excellency, but something urgent came up. Long range scanners have picked up another group of ships in the system. The FFI identified the lead vessel as the “Swift Guardian”. They had been filed as lost to the warp some centuries ago, but according to their time stamp it seems they were merely suffering from a temporal distortion. We are trying to contact them.” Mancinis brow wrinkled before she nodded and dismissed the clerk with a flick of her hand. “Brief me as soon as we have validation about them. Where were we… Field Marshal Kendall, the room is yours…”

This message was edited 3 times. Last update was at 2021/04/28 14:30:40


~5600 build and painted 
   
Made in au
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High Marshal Francesca Mancini's command centre was nowhere near the most elegant he'd seen, sporting bundles of cables running like veins over most surfaces and unreasonably loud buzzing cogitators, but it was as functional as it needed to be. In a worse case scenario he didn't doubt cogitators like that would make decent hard cover. He hoped the High Marshal was as competent at command as she was hard working. But it remained to be seen and no level of competency could stave off bad luck. She aws listening to her commanders, and presmably making an informed judgment on the deployment. So that was a welcome start.
Field Marshal Kendal examined the holo-map as the Lord Commissar Jacquard spoke first.
One of the other Askari commanders, the big man King Bautu who looked uncomfortable in his uniform stepped forwards first and after him the other who looked very much like a Tallarn stepped forwards. Which could equally be a good sign as not.
Kendall bit his lip and told himself whatever misgivings he had about the other units it was too late now. Their units might be of unknown or untested quality, but they were soon to be tested. And besides his forces lacked decent amounts of light infantry.
It seemed forever an oversight.
Suddenly he realised everyone was waiting on him.
Field Marshal Kendal gave a formal bow.

He stepped forwards, hands behind his back chest proudly displaying his career.
"My forces are well trained and most elements are battle experienced from recent fighting in Segmentum Pacificus and during the recent conflict in the Commonwealth. While the force is mainly geared towards conventional and kinetic warfare in both offensive and defensive action whilst the 126th Calathian Republic expeditionary force under General Stendart and Count Hargrave's force of Klomn knights provide some tactical flexibility."

"Count Hargrave." He gestured for the man to step forwards next to him. Hargrave to Kendal's annoyance was dressed in his colours and war finery. As befitting his station he was wearing gold gilded power harness flowing with a silk coat. He didn't have his usual plaque belt or colalr. Gold on gold tends to blend a bit to well, instead today he had one of tyrannid ivory. A brilliant purple that was both impossibly dark and brilliantly light at once.

"My lords and ladies." He bowed and pulled the feathered cap from his head.
"My host is small. Our machines work most effectively in semi-closed environments. They will fall prey to close infantry assault in a hab city where our retainers can't effectively cover us, and conventional infantry can't generally keep up with our advance. But in a sprawling suburb, industrial park or open forest we have proven to be an effective force. Personally I'd look forwards to assisting to eradicate the Ork population, but I've not yet tested the mettle of the Tau xenos. If we strike directly at the Tau pressence on Kaliphera Tertius we can weaken their hold with the initial strike and bolster support in the sector. Nip the xenos pressence and most of the established xenos support in the bud.

Count Hargrave stepped backwards. Much to Kendal's surprise the man had been remarkably concise even if his strategy was as bold as expected.
"General Stendart" Kendal said, bracing himself for the famous 'Calathian sales pitch'. Stendart was short and a little on the portly side, he was already growing a stubbly beard. Something Kendal felt he had to have a word about. They weren't even planetside yet.

"The men and women of the 126th Calathian Republic Expeditionary force are equipped for a number of different mission types. The force is designed to be adaptive and
is trained to fight in many different environments. The 126th could deploy and carve a foothold on any of the planets you point us at. I am confident that my field artillery units can counter an Ork build up on Primus, if we are to check that infestation first, alternatively the 721st and 981st Assault Pioneer Regiments can carve a foothold and landing bases in any polar region with ease if need be. Throw the 126th at Primus we're ready for anything the green skins throw at us. Alternatively we could secure Quintus to deny the enemy the rich resources."


Kendal bit his lip at the suggestion. To his mind Quintus was a double edged sword. You needed Tertus or Quartus to provide the manpower to mine on Quintus, and then you'd also want the forgeworld Kopernica to make full use of the mineral production.

"General Kiro" Kiro was young. He had two prosthetic legs and a prosthetic arm. He'd chosen as ever not to wear shoes or gloves much like he'd chosen not to have the mass of ragged scar tissue removed from the side of his head. All of it legacy of a tank fire that had evidently failed to kill him. His left eye, even his voice was artificial when he spoke.
"We gain a foot hold on Tertius and consolidate, that way we may dispatch forces to deal with the ork threat whilst simultaneously threatening any Tau prescience seeking to make use of the populated worlds against us. If we draw them to battle it will be on our terms. We dig in and consolidate. The enemy must strike before we deal with the Ork threat for afterwards we should have the initiative. So we force their hand and crush them. My regiment should be the armoured fist that any counter attack or offensive is built around. We force them to land outside the cities, and then confront them on the open ground."



"General Lisander" Lisander was a tough old gladiator, she'd been in the legion the longest of all the commanders deployed. Kendal knew he could rely on Lisander to have considered everything.
"We should first move to bolster Kopernica. This is a foothold that is established we might as well use it. We need to secure production facilites in working condition. To my mind Kopernica the best chance for us to do so. Alternatively if we secure Kaliphera Quartus we have a foothold with sympathetic manpower, and it will supplement our forces. Also with known xenos sympathisers on the planet an initial strike will send a strong message."


This message was edited 3 times. Last update was at 2021/04/29 11:54:37


   
Made in ie
Nurgle Veteran Marine with the Flu





Cork, Ireland

Corvin Karpe puffed on the dying embers of his shortened cigar, smoke permeated the room like an artificial smog. His support staff prodded at the screen in the center of the room, multiple red dots blinked alarmingly. He swivelled in his chair slightly, taking a glance out to the clouds above the Hive City of Ulysses. Below the lower levels of the hive sprawled out in all directions and the lake that protected them sprawled further still. He continued to feed to smog and reluctantly stabbed what remained of his cigar into an adjacent ashtray. He realised that all eyes were upon him, his assistant combatting a bead of sweat from her forehead “Sector Lord Karpe?”

“Ah yes, thank you Celine.” His voice was like gravel being driven over by tank threads. It demanded attention. “The day we have pleaded for in our prayers has arrived and it has revealed the toil the Warp has taken on our Sector. The enemies of the Imperium look for weakness and wavering faith, we will grant them neither. The Imperium has received our distress signal and even now her righteous hammer, the Astra Militarum arrives in our system. We will rout out the corrupt, the faithless and the heretic. We will restore order and ensure the needs of the Imperium are met by this sector and beyond. If anyone in this room doubts the task ahead of us, remove yourself now or be found wanting in the trying days ahead.”

Corvin didn’t realise he was standing with both hands placed firmly on the table, eyeing up each and every person of importance in the Sector, those at least who could attend. Nobody moved, a few passed glances to one another hesitant to show anything other than utmost devotion to the path ahead of them. “No one? Good.” Corvin pointed to one of the alerts on the screen at the center of the conference table. “The Feral Orkz of Kaliphera Primus have multiplied in large numbers in the unkempt jungles to the south east. It is my understanding that the local militia is on the brink of being overrun.” An eldery man, with many technological modifications to one of his haggard eyes cleared his throat. He was slender, his hair losing its colour many moons ago. “The Kaladis Conglomerate has dispatched a number of security teams to protect its assets in the region. These are professional, fighting men Sector Lord, not farmers with autoguns. I hand them over to whomever you deem fit to mount the planet’s defences.” “Your continued dedication to our sector is admirable Kraum Kaladis, every night we spend with full stomachs we will thank you and your forces' sacrifices.” Kraum bowed his head in reverence, a snake if there ever was one thought Corvin. No doubt he would levey that someone in his employ be placed in command. “If I may offer a suggestion my Lord?”
Here it is, almost like clockwork. Corvin raised an eyebrow “You may Kaladis.” Corvin didn’t even make an attempt to mask his irritation. “My nephew, Mauger is already planetside with one of my security teams. An experienced trooper I can think of no finer commander to rout these savages from our fields and restore order to the Emperor’s lands.” Corvin waved his hand dismissively “That will not be necessary Mr. Kaladis.” The business baron’s face scrunched in suspicion “How so my lord?” Corvin could not help but reveal his tabac stained teeth in a wide grin. “It is my understanding that a group of Tempestus Scions are taking up residence in Fort Macherius in the coming hours, to whip the sordid militia into fighting shape. I am awaiting a report from High Marshal Mancini as to other deployments.” Kraum’s remaining eye widened “Stormtroopers? Here?” Corvin nodded stiffly “ Your security teams shall assist the Scions in whatever capacity is needed.”

Corvin rose from the table as a new alert sprang to life on the screen. “My lord.” called Celine as she hammered nervously at the console in front of her “A communications request from Por’O Sa’cea Ari’asha.” Corvin gritted his teeth, the Tau embassy has distracted him long enough. “Patch it through Celine” Corvin sighed, sitting back down in his chair and reaching for another cigar...

Spoiler:
Just an NPC piece from the Sector Lord of Kaliphera.





Sgt. Vanden I bet Irish can do that by flashing his bear chest.
Sgt. Vanden Irish is the definition of a Dutch oven
 
   
Made in ie
Nurgle Veteran Marine with the Flu





Cork, Ireland

Engulfed by the ever changing tunnels of the webway, Tyraxis sat back on his throne. His personal barge bobbed and weaved at breakneck speed, the antigrav thrusters prevented him from feeling any discomfort. Scaur and the other Incubi clenched onto the mounted splinter cannons, Scourges and Hellions raced overhead attempting to keep up with their Archon. The walls of the webway blurred past, a miasma of swirling colours, Midnight blues and putrid greens tangled with raw pinks. “We are approaching the exit, my Archon!” roared the Steersman. Tyraxis rose from his throne and squinted ahead, his hand placed at his eyebrows. A light, fast approaching lay directly ahead of them. A vanguard of Scourges, hellions, jetbikes and venoms charged into it willingly, their lust for murder almost dripping off them. The first of the ravagers plunged through into the exit gate quickly followed by raiders. If there was anything hostile on the other side of the gate, it would be dead before Tyraxis arrived. Tyraxis shielded his eyes as his barge crashed through the gate, he was running a number of scenarios as to what to expect when he emerged. He was slightly disappointed.

His forces had fanned out in all directions in front of the gate. Rays of sunlight greeted them as it pierced the trees that surrounded them, Rolling hills flanked the gate on all sides, leaving it sitting in a dip. In the immediate vicinity lay the ruins of many structures, moss covered many of the carvings, time had weathered the rest. Scourges tumbled around the higher branches, disgruntled with the serene scene they had discovered. Hellions immediately began torturing the local wildlife, hacking at anything that moves with their hellglaives. As the Steersmans brought the barge to a halt, Tyraxis rose immediately. Harakor and Alistra had already begun to rally their followers. Murderlust was high and if they didn’t find a target soon, they were likely to turn on themselves. “Scourges and jetbikes fan out for nearby settlements to reap! Raiders establish a perimeter around the gate and fortify it I am leaving nothing to chance! The rest of you, set up an encampment, soon this place will be crawling with slaves and I want them to be corralled like the cattle they are.” His forces scattered, their duties given. His “allies” forces followed their own archons orders, all pre planned to an extent. Tyraxis turned to his Incubus, Scaur. “Ensure that Vaeryth has set up a makeshift laboratory within the confines of the camp. Repurpose one of these old buildings into a makeshift palace, before the other two snatch it up first.” The incubus nodded once “Yes, my lord.” The statue-like figure disembarked from the raider. Klaive straddled close to his chest as bellowed orders to a group of kabalite warriors.


Tyraxis sat back on his throne as he listened to birds chirping and fleeing the sudden commotion around the gate. The chirping halted abruptly as some scourges caught the birds in their own talons, ripping them apart. The scuffling of footsteps on deck disturbed Tyraxis, he looked up to find a trueborn warrior standing before him, hands placed behind his back. His incubi stepped forwards as a precaution, Tyraxis raised an eyebrow questionably “Dracon Kascyn, shouldn’t you be overseeing the efforts to establish a perimeter?” the warrior shrugged “This planet is empty, no signs of life for miles around.” Kascyn was as close to a second in command as Tyraxis had. To his knowledge he has stifled at least three other dracons to ensure his position, Tyraxis had no doubt that there were others. “That can be a strength just as much as it is a weakness Kascyn. Isolation offers secrecy, secrecy offers security and security offers opportunities to harvest untold amounts of slaves and plunder.” The young Dracon smirked “Only if you possess the strength and cunning to pursue such opportunities..” “Do you seek to insult me boy? Do you think yourself invulnerable?” Tyraxis snarled, his humour running fowl. “No father, of course-” “Than begone! Oversee the establishment of this encampment and stay out of my way.” The Dracon dipped his head in reverence and scurried off the barge. A bold Dracon must be curtailed lest he rallies his own supporters around him and raids like these are the perfect time for “accidents” to befall Archons and old Drukhari of note, even if it is his own son...

Spoiler:
The Dark Eldar alliance has entered the Kaliphera System via a Webway gate on Kaplihera Tertius.




Sgt. Vanden I bet Irish can do that by flashing his bear chest.
Sgt. Vanden Irish is the definition of a Dutch oven
 
   
Made in de
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot






Marshall Mancini listened intently, asking for details whereever necessary and scribbling down notes into a small ledger on her table in an almost caligraphic, elegant handwriting. From a glance of her notes she seemed to have spent some time to go through the different armies combat history, equipment lists and vehicle park, coming to her own conclusions and matching them with the assessment of the commanders reporting.

After General Lisanders thoughts though, her so far professionally neutral facial expression turned somewhat sour before she replied - in a distanced, diplomatic tone - "I already had the pleasure of talking to the Fabricator General of Kopernica. He assured me that his Forgeworld and its inhabitants are loyal servants of the Machine god and first and foremost subjects of Mars. According to him they have no part in the quarrels going on in the rest of the system and he made it abundantly clear that he currently does not require the Astra Militarums assistance as his Skitarii Legions are well capable of keeping the sacred grounds of their revered homeworld clean from outside influence..." She looked quite displeased with this and added "I don't know if he would go as far as attacking us if we would land without an explicit invitation, but for now I don't want to risk it. At least they have not refused to share their production capacity with us and we should not gamble that away without good reason."

Meanwhile one of the displays on the table listing an overview of the imperial forces was updated, now also showing a Tempestus Scion Symbol with a force of several companies - seemingly from the mentioned other transport, that had been lost in time.

After considering what she had heard, Mancini seemed to be decided on the immediate strategy, quite likely adjusting what she had already planned according to the reports. First she adressed the three Askari Commanders: "Sooner or later it might come to city fights on Tertius and also I have checked your equipment ledgers and have seen that you currently lack adequate greatcoats and enough climated transports to not suffer losses to frostbite when operating on its northern regions. Until we can require enough of those from our local assets you will exclusively be deployed on Primus. I agree that the east of the Limaesa jungle is a good target as drop site. We will send another small force to Fort Macherius to bolster the local PDF and train them - might be those unexpected Scion support. Let the Fort be the hammer for your Anvil." Maybe to put the deployment into a better light and not let it seem like she did not value the Regimento she added "In these jungles your troopers should be able to really play out their strenghts and also you mounts are an advantage as there will be less tech around that the greenskins can plunder. I saw that your regiment is well equipped with flamers, make sure to use them to burn out any bodies and signs of Ork infestation, so that it at least takes longer until they crawl from the woods again. I expect you to engage the xenos and remove at least one of the main groups within the next weeks to lift the pressure from Fort Macherius." Her tone was not unfriendly, yet simultaneously left no doubt that this was an order and not merely a suggestion.



Turning over to Field Marshal Kendal, Mancini continued: "I want your troops on Tertius. The cities there are not yet hives, so I we might still have the option to meaningfully use the Knights there, if the need arises. Up until then I trust your judgement to deploy them as you see fit. Tertius should provide enough semi-closed environments to see them at peak performance. The main goal should be to secure Tertius stays firmly in imperial hands and that the Xeno sympathizing movement is made irrelevant. You should also inquire what happened to the outposts that went missing and make clear that those responsible fill face the consequences. Our data about the T'au is still to limited to formulate a definitive approach. From what I see in on paper I would recommend you refuse to get provoked into acting first, so that they cannot spin us as the agressor and themselves as the salvation, but if you are opposed or even attacked, leave no doubt that the Imperium is here to stay and will not hesitate to use excessive force to defend our interests. But in my experience dry data cannot replace first hand experience and honed combat experience and we cannot afford to loose time in long debates should an immediate emergency happen. You are an experienced commander and lead a seasoned battle group, I trust you to act on your own tactical initiative to react on the local circumstances."

Adressing all forces in the room she finished "For now my command center will stay on our flag ship. Keep me posted about any developments and your thoughts about the strategic situation. Dismissed."




Lord Commissar Jacquard and her comrades saluted the marshall and the other commanders before taking their leave. Just outside Rasul mentioned "Well... that went better than last time." to which Bantu replied grimly "Let's get us some greenskin tusks!"

~5600 build and painted 
   
Made in au
Storm Trooper with Maglight







Field Marshal Kendal felt much better to be planetside, from his position on the low hilltop he could see down to the landing zones where a constant stream of ships ferried more supplies and soldiers planetside.

Around the perimeter, engineering vehicles were pushing up berms whilst soldiers filled gambions to make blast walls or dug trenches. Behind him artillerymen were towing their field guns up to the berms around the hill, it wasn’t much more than a molehill but it dominated the Aramore river and the approach form Erastion.

The 126th Calathian Republic Expeditionary Force had made planetfall on the Haverus plains under the cover of darkness. By dawn a landing zone had been established and the 154th Ardus line Brigade had been landed. By now more elements of the battle group had joined them. Their site south of the Aramore river was buzzing with activity.

General Stendart was overseeing the construction of the defensive perimeter whilst General Lisander was overseeing the running of the landing zones and the establishment of supply dumps. Whilst General Kiro was in orbit overseeing the offloading of supplies troops and equipment from the from the transports.

It was a strong position and from it they could threaten or quickly move to assist five out of the eight eight cities on the Kaliphera Tertius.

Field Marshal Kendal was waiting really. There wasn’t much he could do right now, and he’d survey the land once the troopers finished fuelling up his scout car.

“I want a small force of the 921st Cavalry regiment to perform reconnaissance in the Innisrock Mountains and Brundus Valley. If the garrison of Nighthall moves or if soldiers from Calabar Hold attempt to cross the river Brundus I want to know about it. I want it to be soft footed recon, avoid a fight if confronted. I want the troops on the best behaviour until we establish who our enemies are.”

“I have just the company sir.” Lisander saluted and headed down towards the vehicle pool. Kendal could hear her booming voice above the noise of the dozers as she made a beeline back towards the 921st’s position in the moto-pool.

Within minutes soldiers previously stockpiling supplies were gathering around their Galen patrol cars.

There came the roar of a motorcycle above the drone of construction. Kendal picked out the dispatch rider making for his position.

“So the planetary governor sends word, as do the leaders of Aramore and Erastion I’d wager.” Count Hargrave mused beside him.

Kendal bit his lip. They'd not had further word from their contacts yet.

This message was edited 5 times. Last update was at 2021/05/01 22:58:00


   
Made in de
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot






Leaving trough the large cargo doors of their landing vessel, Mahud Omar gave the thick hull armor a gentle pad for good luck, as did so many others of the troopers around him. They had the honor of being deployed planetside in Tembo, a big old giant of an asteroid mining vessel and veteran of the desperate space battle for Thoths survival during the night of a thousand rebellions almost a century ago. When the SDF had been reduced to only a handful of battered ships, the desperate defenders had refitted everything that was rudementary spaceworthy to make their last stand and Tembo had been amongst those brave last stand – just before the Commonwealth fleet arrived and saved the day. He had also been the only ship from Thoth surviving the space battle and from then on had been the lucky charme of Thoths regiments.
He wasn’t a fast ship to begin with and as his pilots put it “turning as nimble as a sleepy fat-bellied sow, hip deep in the mud” and there were more comfortable places than the retrofitted decks welded into the former ore processing hangars. But being build to withstand showers of micrometeorites Tembos several meters thick hull and multiple strong void shields had made him surprisingly useful for hot landings in enemy occupied zones and as improvised command center on the ground.

Outside, Omar saw other dropships belching out humans, mounts, and light scout cars all over the jungle, while shuttles and ferries flew back and forth to bring everyone to ground. Where the large spacecrafts had landed, the trees and bushes had been pressed down by the giant thrusters and often enough burned and crumbled under the heat radiated by the hulls still glowing from the atmospheric friction.

He called his command squad with a hand gesture and ordered his Vox-man to summon the sergeants of the 13th, 14th and 15th light cavalry. Soon enough he found himself surrounded by a multitude of different steeds – some brought from Thoth, some acquired on the other recruitment worlds, some gifts from thankfull planetary defense forces and allied regiments and some quite literally captured in the wilds when the situation allowed it. They even had some of the notorious Attilans within their ranks, taking up some leftover squads stranded on Lancaria IV three years past. It had bought them the mocking nickname “Mahuds monstrous menagerie”, but they wore it with pride. Contacting the sergeants through his com bead, he gave the order to move and spread out, to make room for the other arrivals and get on with their task, as long as at least some remnant of the element of surprise still remained – if you could speak of surprise after the sky had been lit by hundreds of dropships descending. “Everybody listen. We move north west, towards the coastal jungles. There are orks there. We don’t know this foe, so strike fast, strike hard, but don’t be reckless…” his standard bearer blew the his big horn, made from an elephant tusk, and the column moved out, melting into the jungle between the trunks of the giant trees.


Mahud Omar took up is amplivisor and fumbled with the controls of the thing until he got it right. He had only recently acquired it from a Catachan corporal for a some packages of LHO sticks during their last deployment and was still not very proficient in its use. None the less it was much better than his old looking glass.
In the distance he could make out the main Ork encampment, surrounded by some wooden palisades and all kinds of totems and skulls on stakes to impress and frighten enemies. Within the greenskinned Xenos were swarming around some central bigger totem. Up until now they had only encountered stragglers and small groups, armed with knifes and axes made of wood, stone and bone and only very little guns, captured from the local pdf. The briefing had warned about the aliens ability to build guns and explosives practically out of scrap, but it seemed at least this tribe did not have access to enough raw material for that. Mahud and his men had also noticed that the Greenskins were much more dangerous in larger groups and that the biggest usually was the leader – useful intel for the other Askaris in the battles to come.

He waved a hand sign to slip forward through the woods and start fanning out to encircle the camp – slow and steady. When everyone was set up, he cupped his hand to his mouth and made the warbling song of the metal blue paradise bird of their homeworld. On this sign, eskadrons of riders on terror birds, lizards, giant lemurs and other steeds exploded from the tree line, sending a hail of lasbolts towards the Xenos before lowering their lances. They took some stragglers in front of the camp by surprise, tearing them to pieces under their lances them, but before they reached the camp itself, the watchers on the palisades opened up themselves – and this time not only with the handful of captured lasguns they had encountered so far, but instead fluxes of strange glowing energy streamed from the battlements and where they hit the attackers they just… disintegrated. The skittish mounts reeled, and before panick could take hold of them, Omar took the big horn from his startled adjutant and blew the retreat.

That was… an unwelcome surprise. What the frack was this and how did the greenskins got their hand on this tech? It did not look like imperial weaponry, which made him even more uneasy. As his riders pulled back into the jungle around him, Omar took another look through the amplivisor, trying to make out the weapons. It was hard to see, but they definitely did not look like scrapmetal put together and more … or let’s say a different kind of… alien that what they had seen with the greenskins so far. He turned his view to see what was so special about that big central totem, now that the greenskins were moving out of their camp and finally was able to make out some metallic sheen and something that roughly looked like… a humanoid metal armor? It looked much to slim for an ork which led him to a worrying suspicion: was that one of these T’au battlesuits? And if the T’au really were somewhere here on the planet, how much of their armors and weapons had gotten into Ork hands? For now that though was moot though, as they had to retreat and regroup. Trying to bullrush their way through would not win them this battle and the orks here seemed to either lack the means to follow them fast enough or decided to hold back to protect their totem. Either way, the Askaris would return on the morrow, together with their infantry and heavy weapons. As long as it took to push the Xenos out of this lush forests and burn their taint away.

Spoiler:
The Thot Askaris tried to attack the Wyld Huntaz in the north, but were forced to retreat by unforeseen resistance.

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2021/05/02 12:54:18


~5600 build and painted 
   
Made in ie
Nurgle Veteran Marine with the Flu





Cork, Ireland

Wildermar was one of the most isolated settlements on Kalypso, and one of two located on the far side of the Innisrock Mountains. Many of the people living here followed a more rustic approach. A majority of the population were impoverished, simply living here because that is where they were born with no ambition to leave or practice any other profession other than what their family had always done for generations. Ivan didn’t fall into this group however. Ivan was from New Mallus, a lowly engineer in the Adeptus Administratum. He had been born to towering skyscrapers and bustling city life, there was always something happening in New Mallus. Wildemar was fundamentally different. Most days people went about their mundane tasks, fishing or forestry mainly. Every now and then, the local Adeptus Arbites would rout out some small gangs, mistaking the humble city as a place of opportunity. Now they hang over in the main square. Ivan’s vox communication spat static as his superior connection to his unit “Engineer Fryre, report to the Northern Perimeter wall, some of the floodlights have blown out. Director Biscari has prioritised it as a breach of security regulations over.”

Ivan brought a series of exposed cables together, sparks dancing between them as he encased them in insulating casing. He stood up, poking away at his dataslate, ticking off another job for completion. The Administratum was very particular about their reports. He slid the dataslate into his pack and slugged it over his shoulder. The night sky was obscured by soft, streaking clouds. The moon broke through the canopy, like the eye of an everwatchful deity. The Planetary Defence Forces beamed a dozen lights towards him as he approached, he shielded his eyes immediately. “I’m here to fix the floodlights!” Ivan reasoned “Drop the flashlights.” His eyes readjusted to the dark, one of the troopers closest to him thumbed over to Ivan’s left “Panel is over there, probably just a fuse or something. Hurry up, I don’t want nothing liable placed on my record.” Ivan waved the troopers concerns away “A fuse going is the most exciting thing that happened here all week, relax it won’t take a second.” Ivan twisted and pulled the electricity box open, flicking on his own flashlight on his helm. All the switches looked alright to him, he rang a finger along the line of controls and stopped. He flicked it down and then back up. Nothing. Ivan stuck a head back out at the stubborn, lifeless floodlights. Something in the shadows caught his eye. He narrowed his gaze, flashlight still on. He passed a glance to the troopers. They were gone. He glanced down. A body was slumped over, blood everywhere. Ivan stepped away from the electrical box and went to press the bottom on his vox communicator. The blade reached his throat first.

Night fields shed their skin as Ravagers let loose a barrage of splinter cannon fire towards the Eastern perimeter wall. Dark lances lit up the night sky as gun emplacements were vaporised on the spot. Petty lasgun fire ran far too short to defer the raiders who were gliding with glee overhead.A number of Raider craft were offloading kabalite warriors, engaging panicked humans with splinter fire. Others were pressing on overhead, picking off anyone who was out in the open. Troopers all pressed towards the Eastern section of the city, under instructions of local Sergeants and Captains. It seemed either their superiors had already fled or they were dead already. Transports from the Adeptus Arbites filled the streets as they disembarked to restore order. Combat shotguns flared as they engaged the rushing foes. A hovering raider near split a rhino in two before the judges could disembark, exploding in a large fireball. Scourges and Hellions descended from the skies to the south, swooping in from the sea they picked off those already engaged to the east. Tyraxis watched the scene unfold from his Barge. Smoke and fire rose from the city, gunfire still raged although they were quickly being snuffed out. From his position on the western slopes, Tyraxis could see the gap he left in his envelopment. As predicted, a ragtag group of humans was directing the populace to flee into the nearby woods to avoid pursuit. They manned a crude barricade to hold off his forces from within their city. He smiled. The hope of making it to the woods, the hope of escaping such rampant destruction fed him a morsel of nourishment. He lingered for a moment, indulging himself. The humans bolted across the fields in rags. Tyraxis gave the signal and his venoms fanned out from the forest, herding the escapees like wolves. They crowded together, like shoal fish to a gaping whale and quivered with fear. It was delicious...

Spoiler:
The Dark Eldar raiding party ruthlessly pillaged the city of Wildermar, few survivors remain.


Sgt. Vanden I bet Irish can do that by flashing his bear chest.
Sgt. Vanden Irish is the definition of a Dutch oven
 
   
Made in de
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot






“… commence their landings on Kal’Pri and Kal’Yps’O yet unopposed. We HAVE to send hunting cadres quickly before they get a foothold. I have already ordered the embarkments of …” “ENOUGH!” Before Shas’el Vior’la Wua’Esh – commander of the fire cast assets in the soon to be Kal’yphea’o sept could finish, the revered water caste Por’O Dal’yth Fio’Shash stopped him in his tracks with an uncharacteristic firmness. The high ranking diplomat calmed in an instant and continued “We have discussed this often enough. We came here offering friendship, prosperity and the blessings of the greater good – not as conquerors. It took decades of careful diplomacy to sway the councils and corporation directories and shift the public opinion in our favor. We cannot risk the pendulum swinging the other way now by being seen as aggressors. You will order your cadres to stand down and hold position until we deem that the situation affords a change of strategy. That IS our decision.” Wua’Esh’s face was blue from anger as he said “with all due respect, but that’s a stupid decision. It might have been right as long as the Imperium could not reach the system, but now that they are here, the Gue’la will not just leave and abandon one of their precisious worlds. They understand only one thing. We all know it, I’m just the only one who says it out loud!” he commented angrily.

But as he scanned the room for allied faces, he found none, even his old brother in arms Shas’El Vior’la Kaas’Va avoiding his gaze and the daring admiral Kor’El Vior’la Aan’Su looking unusually miserable but keeping his tongue. The rest of them were clearly with Fio’Shash, who at least had the dignity to keep his satisfaction from his face. Grumbling Wua’Esh forced his temper down inside of him – not letting it go but only concentrating and cultivating it. Outside he calmed and said “I apologize. I only tried to give counsel to the best of my abilities. I will order the embarkations to stop and await your instructions, for the greater good.”

After the meeting ended, Aan’Su and Kaas’Va were waiting for him outside, but apart from a polite greeting nod he did not feel like interacting with them right now and continued to his quarters instead, still brooding about the Water castes folly. Both were good women and competent commanders, but unless they were forced to see the Gue’la for the beast they really were, would not act on their own as long as Fio’Sash kept insisting on trying to talk and bore the problem into submission.

An hour later he was sitting in his private chambers, going through status reports after he had unavailingly tried to put his mind of things by meditating, when a he heard a knock at his door. It was Por’El Vior’la Vaan’tuu, one of the high merchants within the tau delegation and an… unexpected guest. He had a bottle of fine, Vior’La spirit as a guest gift with him, greeted formaly and after the door closed asked “Shas’El, I was hoping to have a word with you in private…” something in his tone and gesture implying the question if they could talk in secrecy within this room. Still surprised about this visit, Wua’Esh nodded “These rooms are regularly screened for listening devices. By me personally too.”


The merchant nodded satisfied and said “I was impressed by your assessment of our situation. And quite honestly I agree. I’m sorry I did not support you openly, but it would not have changed anything back there and it might be of more use, to keep our agreement private for now. I’m quite sure we are not alone with our doubts of Fio’Sash’s strategy, but it would need some kind of… incidence… to make them openly support a change of plans.”

Wua’Esh nodded, carefully and answered “The Gue’la will attack at some point. And they will prefer to do it when their forces are all on the ground and well dug in. But if we could provoke them in showing their intentions now, open to all council members and our Gue’Vesa allies,Fio’Sash would be forced to act. But I can’t deploy the forces I need for that, without him knowing and stopping me. For now my cadres are chained to the embassies.” He said with all the frustration of a warrior that would like nothing more than to engage and drive away a foe being forced to garrison duty
“ I might have… certain funding available, that might be useful. And quite possibly also the right men for the job… If you could provide them with some plans and strategic counsel…” the water caste answered and showed him a pad with some force charts and a map of their current position on it. And that finally put a smile on Wua’Eshs face.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2021/05/04 08:07:23


~5600 build and painted 
   
Made in au
Storm Trooper with Maglight







The clouds had gathered quickly and menacingly. Major Garret tried to pull the greatcoat more closed at the top and re-adjusted his scarf. He’d have to have his tailor do something about that. The wind was howling over the Innisrock mountains. He checked the map again. A hundred kilometre stretch in the exposed mountain tops to go.

“Okay how is that signal.”

“Nothing with that storm blowing sir.”
The weather reports had said it’d be clear.
Part of him wished he’d taken an enclosed armoured car. But he didn’t like having more comfort than the troops. If an eighteen-year-old girl could crouch in the snow on the side of a mountain in the howling wind without complaining he could do the same.

He jumped out of his seat and approached the front of the column. Soldiers were spread out on either side of the track crouched in the jagged stone and snow expecting an ambush.

Garret moved to the front vehicle. A dozen soldiers worked to clear a rockfall.
After a few minutes he could hear the sound of a moto-bike engine over the roaring of the wind. A patrol came cautiously around the corner and navigated a rockfall.

The NCO stopped short of the half cleared rockfall to dismount. He walked the bike over the loose stone and stopped in front of Garret.

“The entire stretch to hill 8842 has rockfalls sir. It’ll take days to clear.”
Major Garret looked at the approaching storm. Weather intel brief said the storms were particularly bad this time of the year and could linger for days.

Major Garret wasn’t a man to back down but he knew this time he’d have to concede.
It would be a white out and it’d be on them in minutes. If they got caught they’d have to dig the vehicles out and clear the road.

“We’ll head back down to “” and contact command from there. We can’t get through.”
It meant they’d have to back up several kilometres before they could turn the patrol cars around.

The command to mount back up was given. He felt disappointed, it was a far cry from the feeling he’d had when they’d mounted up in camp.


   
Made in de
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot






Waist high out from the turret hatch of his Jackal pattern scout tank, Rasul al'Ankra took a look around, over the armored column arround him while listening to the other units checking in through his vox bead. "Fenneck Alpha to all units, fan out. Dismount the infantry to protect our flanks." as he issued the order, Mahud Omar reined in beside his 6 wheeled tank saluting. "Salam Aleikum, Serasker." "Aleikum Salam, Omar. I heard you ran into trouble?" he returned, earning a disgruntled nod from the older Maghrebian. The leader of the light cavalry had exchanged his usual camel mount for one of the skitish, fast giant lemurs that were bred as jungle steeds back in Thoths polar jungles. "The Xenos are gathered around some kind of totem. We have them widely surrounded, not under siege, but close enough to be sure that they have not slipped away through our lines. We tried to take their camp, but they have some kind of strange energy weapons." "Strange how?" "Strange like 'turned half a dozen of my riders into red mist" the other officer replied with visible anger.

Rasul tapped the armor of his command tank silently considering his options. Omar continued "You know it would be safer to scout them out for some days and find a weak spot. That would also be enough to wait for the main bulk of the unified tribes moving up." "Yepp" Omar sighed "But you won't, will you?" "Nope". "Orders?" "Orders. We cannot afford to seem hesitant in attacking, not until we chalked up some kind of win. The big brass already has a bad eye on us, if they start calling us crawen, even the Lord Commissar might not be able to safe us from the fallout" "Frakk" Omar cursed, but he saw that Rasul was not really happy about it either. "Do you think those weapons they use can pierce my tanks?", the General asked, meeting a shrugg of the Cavalry leader "No idea, might be they can't. But looking at our usual luck, I wouldn't count on it."
Rasul looked around over their gathered force and took a deep breath. "No use in waiting then, prepare for the assault, we attack at noon. The Skyfather protects!" Omar nodded in agreement and signed the aquilla before reeling around to order his riders.


It was early evening, when the light and heavy cavalry met up with the vanguard of the approaching infantry regiments setting up camps for the night around the large tent of King Bantu, made from the leathery hides of two Carnosaurs. As usual it was guarded by his giant bodyguard Bobby and his troop of Bullgryns, as Rasul and Omar approached for their report. Bantu sat on his throne, honing the blade of his ancient powerlance. He looked up and seeing the expression of anger and defeat on his battlebrothers faces knew that fate had once more been unkind to them. "How bad?" he asked sympathetically. "Bad... but it could have been worse. We took the palisade and killed quite some of them, but they have powerful energy weapons. Armor piercing even. I pulled out before losses got too bad, but 2 of my scout cars are gone and a dozen Salamanders damaged. And the light Cavalry suffered similarly." Bantu nodded to the other generals report. They were similar in rank, but the King was a living legend amongst the N'Go and more experienced in jungle warfare, which Rasul respected, ordering himself into the chain of command as he knew Bantu would when they were fighting in deserts or mountains. "How many weapons did you count?" the stout King asked, to which Rasul replied. "... They had at least ten of these guns at the palisade, who knows how many more if we get deeper in. We don't have anything armored enough..." "What was the fire rate?" Rasul began to dawn where Bantus though was going "Not... very fast. Maybe half of what a trooper with a lasgun that knows what he is doing can achieve." "Than we know how we can take them." the King answered severely. "We keep pushing the attack. We have 200.000 men... and we have to break those orks, whatever it takes..."

Spoiler:
The Askaris tried a second attack on the Wyld Huntaz, this time with their light cavalry supported by mechanized infantry and light tanks. They destroyed the palisade but where again repelled.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2021/05/04 17:38:09


~5600 build and painted 
   
Made in ie
Nurgle Veteran Marine with the Flu





Cork, Ireland

Tyraxis watched as scores of fresh slaves were hounded away from their homes, the city of Wildermar still burning behind them. Chained together lines upon lines of unmolested souls flowed up through the rough, forested hills back to the webway gate that spawned them. Those that fought to the end were hung up on chain hooks hanging from many of the raider craft, not all of them dead either. His forces had dissipated as soon as they had arrived, leaving nothing but soot and sorrow for the lesser races to find. A handful of raiders approached his own barge, displaying the sickly green of the Baleful Glass. Kascyn hopped from one craft to the other, bowing before his father. “A promising first strike my Archon, yet our holds yearn for more.” A not so subtle way of asking for permission to proceed with the next stage of their plan. “Then waste no more time boy, gather your forces and strike east while our presence here remains hidden, Vaeryth awaits you.” Kascyn rose “As you command my Archon, the city by the sea will be reduced to rubble and rabble.” Tyraxis was already focusing on Archon Alistra parading a group of arbites around on the deck of her own barge, clearly disinterested in the promises of his Dracon. “So you say..prove it to me in flesh and iron.”

The city of Krannar was on lockdown. When smoke rose from the east, a security detachment was sent to Wildermar to investigate. It never returned. The fishing vessels were commandeered by the Imperial Navy, fitted with lascannons and autocannons. The mighty sea walls hugged them in the harbour. Gun emplacements were hastily placed, makeshift barricades of civilian vehicles were crushed and placed to present a wall of scrap metal. Hellhounds and sentinels prowled behind the line of the Planetary Defense Forces ready to reinforce a breach of the line. Adeptas Arbites enforced the strict curfew placed upon the vigilant settlement. A detachment of Tau fire warriors, alien to those around them, took shelter in the building designated as the official embassy. Ready to defend their charge to the death. Krannar was ready to fight tooth and nail, it would not befall the same fate of her sister city.

Kascyn clutched the rail of the raider as he waved the Scourges and Hellions on. Wings fluttered and skyboards roared onwards, quickly outpacing the rest of his forces. They rushed towards the lines of the desperate defenders. They were met with a hail of lasgun and auto gun fire. The Scourges dissipated like a flock of birds taking evasive action. A handful stuttered and fell, clipped by small arms fire. As they grew closer mighty autocannons lit up the approach. Inaccurate but quantity is a quality all of its own and further Hellions were taken down littering the outer lying fields. Kascyn took a hold of a mounted dark lance, swiveling it around to face the source of the oncoming fire. He fired at a gun emplacement whose autocannon was roaring, taking down members of his vanguard. A beam of darklight stretched out before him, piercing the bank of sandbags and everyone on the other side of it. His raiders were approaching the perimeter, into the range of enemy lascannons. Blue beams lit up the sky as it was his turn to take evasive action. He dared not let go of his dark lance. The only thing keeping him on deck. One of the forward raiders buckled as a lascannon found their mark. It cut across the prow, bringing the craft down Into a nosedive. The steersman attempted to bring the craft down on top of those that brought him down, to take as many with him as he could. He misjudged the fall and ploughed into a number of hellhounds behind instead.

Kascyn took up his hexrifle as he ordered his trueborn to disembark. The vanguard was harassing the humans overhead. It was time to lead from the ground. Warriors threw themselves from the raiders and brought their splinter rifles to bare. Crystal shards battered the guardsmen positions, all the while Hellions swooped in to take heads with their hell glaives. Kascyn lead his trueborn through the streets, ordering focus fire on the a particularly troublesome hellhound. Fire engulfed the landing zones, burning vatborn and trueborn alike. Darklight struck the side playing of the vehicle, it pierced it like a tin can and shot out the back. The nozzle ceased spewing flame. Kascyn brought his own rifle to bear, squinting through the scope he picked out a figure in a greatcoat waving a power sword in the air. He focused the reticle and squeezed the trigger, sealing the commissars fate. The commissar fell down, clutching his blackened neck. The plague will wither his flesh before the battle is done. The lines broke, fleeing back into the confines Krannar itself. Scourges and Hellions continued to pluck off their numbers. Kascyn ordered a brisk pursuit. They turned the corner out into what must have been the main street. It was wide and thronged with people. Discipline and cohesive had evaporated in the retreat. Some fought to the death while others raced for the ships in the harbour. There was no ships in the harbour. Mountains of flesh advanced from the harbour, blood and water dripping off them. Syringes pumped combat chemicals directly into their spines. Vaeryth's grotesques bulldozed Into the crowd. If Kascyn was the anvil, Vaeryth was the hammer. The crowds dispersed and were being slaughtered, needlessly. Kascyn pushed through the crowd, every moment meant less prisoners for Tyraxis and more importantly, less prestige for his victory. He found the four armed haemonculus amongst the crowds, firing at the broken defenders as they ran for cover.

"Vaeryth!" Kascyn shouted over the carnage "Call off your beasts, these lives are property of Archon Tyraxis." Vaeryth regarded him with an air of contempt "Apologies if my creations exceeded any and all expectations Dracon Kascyn." He let the comment hang in the air for a moment, riling up Kascyn even more. "I shall recall them momentarily". He brought a strange device to his lips and spoke some strange phrase into it. One by one the hulking beasts returned to Vaeryth's side. Krannar had fallen and Kascyn had made it so. "The city has fallen to my forces" Kascyn announced "Round up the survivors and pillage anything of value, we must assume the nearby fortification will be sending reinforcements." "Our forces young Kascyn" hissed Vaeryth "I cannot remember any of your forces pillaging the harbour fleet". Kascyn already turned away organising the looting of Krannar "I will be sure to endeavour my father of your efforts, now prepare to evacuate."

On the horizon an armoured column from Fort Bornesher rumbled through the wilds of Kalyspo. Krannar was breached, perhaps it was not too late. The column pushed on, they would either save Krannar or push their looters into the sea...

Spoiler:
The Drukhari strike at Krannar, taking some casualties. Can they evade the respone from Fort Bornesher and retain their spoils?

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2021/05/05 16:33:40


Sgt. Vanden I bet Irish can do that by flashing his bear chest.
Sgt. Vanden Irish is the definition of a Dutch oven
 
   
Made in us
Loyal Necron Lychguard





Working on it

Introduction
Cult of the Crimson Serpent
Montavius Hive, Kaliphera Quartus, Kaliphera Sector

Androkis Komenos sat on a throne of squalor, deep in the underhive of Montavius, and reflected on his position. His existence in the world was unique; he could see this through his mind’s eye and by extension, the veil of the Immaterium that no one held the same ‘abilities’ he had. What he could see, or rather sense, were the thousands of souls that had been blessed by his touch, and the touch of his first and second generations. He was once an astropath, blinded by the Emeperor’s light, but after the attack from the xenos, and the cruel experimentations of the mechanicus there afterwards, he began to truly see. He soon found himself gifted with sight, real sight, as his eyes regrew, strength as his frame and muscles expanded, even his psychic abilities became more refined. None of this power came without cost however, a seemingly unending hunger that only grew with each day threatened to drive away his sanity. With each feeding seeming less and less fulfilling, leaving him hungrier for more blood, and more victims.

But that was all many years ago, now he had followers, family you could call them, and they worshipped him for the promise of freedom. For as much as he was blinded by the Emperor’s light, so to were they blinded by his. His power passed on to those whom he fed on but did not kill, although they, his first generation, did not receive the full blessing as he did. Through them came the second generation, and from them the third. The third generations were not able to spread the blessing, as their gifts had been muddled and muted, like water flowing through a trough. Regardless of ability or generation, they all share the same inescapable hunger for blood, and thusly were bound together by one damnation.

Androkis rose from his throne, silence fell on the horde in front of him, eyes and hearts filled with suspense at the thought of hearing their Porphyrogenitor’s words. All in attendance were first generations and specifically chosen second generations, eager to witness their leader with their own eyes. Arms lifted outwards, almost as if to embrace the mob gathered before him, and usher them to a new world, Androkis spoke for the first time before a crowd.

“My kin.” his words rolled through the crowd, his voice baritone and smooth, “The time has come to gather our strength and redouble our efforts. No longer will we be content with being meager and meek, we must seek to strengthen ourselves. We must find ourselves more followers, more livestock, those who will bolster our arms and armor. Go forth unto Montavius and leech its strength for your kin. Do not be hasty; for we are not yet ready to face our oppressors in force, we must remain hidden for now.”

The last words were conveyed on telepathic waves, and carried aloft by amethyst, immaterial waves. This ensured that it reached the very souls of those who listened. He waited for the crowd to disperse, goaded on by his personal Skoutatoi guards, before assuming his throne once again. The banner of the Crimson Serpent hanging haughtily above it, a veritable master piece compared to the other fabrics that decorated the sanctum. With a gesture of his hand and a mental impulse, his second in command, Sebastokrator Cerularius Angelus, rushed over and knelt at his side. “I find our lack of proper weaponry and armaments… disappointing. See to it that those with the applicable skills are brought over to our family. Be covert, Sebastokrator, we can not have our fledgling society crumble before it even raises its head.” A quick nod and bow was given before Cerularius left the sanctum.

Cerularius would send the message along to the Topoteretes, the Cult’s strategist and information broker, who would then dispatch a team of third generation Menavlatoi to search for and make contact with a suitable candidate. Half a day had passed before a report reached the Sebastokrator, an illegal sub-fabricatum shop was located and contact was made. Cerularius squinted slightly as he read through the report aloud, “After making contact we attempted negotiations, however we were told to promptly ‘feth off’. The occupants cited that they had enough work already from a ‘gang of crazy bird people’ and that taking more work would only draw the attention of the local Arbites, who they can’t afford to pay off.” Unamusing, he would have to devote more resources to this, perhaps send in the cadre of Protomandators to infect them, or some Toxotai to strong arm them in to compliance. Regardless of the means, he had to accomplish his task, he wouldn’t let himself seem less useful than that syncophant Nobelissimos.

*The words Italicized are titles, not names. Sorry if this doesn’t read well, it’s been a long time since I last wrote anything.

Roll: 49 – Attempt to recruit/infect artisans and machinists to start production on weapons and armor.
Result: 93 44- Minor Defeat. Personnel found but not recruited

<Dynasty> ~10500pts
War Coven of the Coruscating Gaze ~3000pts
Thrice-Damned Plague Corps ~3250pts
Admech (TBN) ~3500pts +30k Bots and Ulator

 
   
Made in au
Storm Trooper with Maglight







Lieutenant Hamilton unbuttoned her coat as she entered the command post. There had been a cold downpour so she shrugged the soaking coat off her shoulders and sat down at the commandeered desk. She wondered if the Major would be in position in the Innisrock mountains yet.

“Lieutenant?” Crawford was waiting at the doorway. He had a unnerving habit of just appearing sometimes. Maybe, she thought, it wasn’t such a bad thing to have in a cavalry trooper.

“Yes Crawford?” She asked.

“Dinner is ready.” Hamilton hadn’t even noticed the steaming pot and ladle that he was holding.

“Thank you Crawford.” He ladled the soup into her canteen.

It was rich, a thick sauce, that bits of diced vegetable and large chunks of sausage bobbed in.

It was the very type of food she’d once have turned down.

The mouthful of steaming hot soup when specialist Tarrence arrived at the door.

“What is it Tarrence?”

She took a mouthful as he spoke.

“We got a coms intercept sir. We’ve sent it to command.” He replied.

He put the transcript on the table. “Good work Tarrence. Get your team some dinner.”



Field marshal Kendal looked at the two reports, they could not be too different.

Major Garret had led a platoon of cavalrymen into the Innisrock mountains and had to turn back due to bad weather, whilst the intercept from lieutenant Hamilton yielded good intel and a vox intercept which was worrying.

Contact ha been lost with Wildermar, leading to a dispute between the planetary governor in Caldaria and the governor of Krannar for still maintain consulate and sheltering Tau diplomats. What was more the fortress of Nighthall was to be reinforced.

The Field Marshal bit his lip as he looked at the map. What had happened at Wildermar? It had been a flourishing city when they’d made planetfall, something had gone badly wrong. The city was, as according to the intercept, also maintain relations with the Tau, and now Krannar had even lost contact with it. He bit his lip and contemplated the map. Perhaps the Tau had been forced to play their hand by the fall of Wildermar?

   
Made in de
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot






The discussion forum was broadcasted on all the main networks of Tertius and watched by millions in the cities - and surely also monitored on the other worlds of the system. Just now, high director Ophelius, leader of the capital new Malus was "answering" the moderators question about what he believed had befallen Wildermar - as typical for him in a way that more resembled an election speach than a real answer.
"... whatever tragedy befell Wildermar, I can ensure my fellow citizens that the directorate of New Mallus will continue to ensure the safety..." " 'Whatever befell', so you still won't admit what's obviously going on here?" Magistrat Poleus threw in provocantly before he could finish, drawing an icy stare from the director. "As of now it remains unconfirmed what happened in the free city. Rescue parties have not been able to find any witnesses" one of Ophelius political allies within the political discussion circle added.
"For years you have been campaigning against Wildermar and Kranar under the pretext of their trading agrements with the T'au. Pretty convenient as the wood mills of Wildermar have been the main competetor of Director Ophelios corporation. And now all of a sudden Wildermar is attacked and destroyed, just after an Imperial fleet deployes troops. And you want us to believe these are completely unrelated events?"

As a couple of times before, the discussion was heating up, no wonder given that there were few voices struggling for neutrality, most of the guest either being honorables from the pro imperial or the pro T'au faction on Kaliphera Tertius, as well as Lieutenant Peligrini, an imperial liason officer from High Marshall Mancinis staff and Oxaith, a lean young Gue'vesa from the T'au embassy on Quartus. At least the Xenos had have the sense to send one of their human followers. Though her clothes and a blue tatoo on the side of her scalp, clean shaven exept from a single scalp lock, gave her an alien feel. It was even more pronounced when she spoke with her distinctive accent, honed from growing up on one of the human settled worlds within the T'aus domain.

Lieutenant Peligrini seemed to be a professional and experienced public relations officer, yet tried his best to avoid the impression of being more than a representative of the relatively few imperial troops on the ground - and Oxaith obviously had similar orders. As the accusations and counter accusations flowed back and forth, the moderator trying his best to keep it civil, the Lieutenant was confronted by Magistrat Poleus "Do you deny that the imperial strike force are in the system to bring it under control? And that for that you cannot tolerate Tau embassies and trading posts in these cities?" Peligrini answered carefully "As you well know, the 126th Calathian Republic expeditionary force as been deployed in the havarus plains to help secure the well being of the imperial citizens in this system, now that the warp storms finally calmed." "And what are their orders? Just to stand around and do nothing?" Peligrini bit his lip "No comment." which raised indignant murmurs in the audience. Seeing that he was loosing ground he added "The point is, there are currently no imperial troops on the other side of the innisrock mountains at all. You all saw the troop ships, it is not as if anyone would have missed it..." He saw Oxaith leaning to another one of the pro T'au politicians present and wispering something to her. A moment later the older woman, another director, magistrate, CEO or whatever she called herself adressed the lieutenant, the Gue'Vesa representative leaning back innocently. "The Imperium does have other forces though, well known for their skill in covert operations don't they? The legendary Astartes for example?" Peligrini grinded his teeth thinking to himself 'you want to throw some hands? Fine have it your way' and replied, ignoring and deflecting the question. "As you know, search parties have already reached the ruins of Wildermar. And as I have been informed while they were unable to find any witnesses, they have discovered quite some spend ammunition." With that a member of the local law enforcement - neutral in this conflict so far - stepped forward presenting a cache of strange, crystal like shards. The lieutenant commenced "As you well know, the Imperial forces use explosive projectiles and energyweapons perfected over millenia and have been using them without exeption for all this time. THIS was not fired from an imperial weapon. As the T'au have shown quite some variation in their prototype weaponry during the last years and include a large variation of client races with their own distinctive ammunition types, I hope representative Oxaith can enlighten us on their nature..." This time the ambassador was caught flat footed.

Just as she prepared for a reply, the moderator looked up towards a point somewhere above and behind the camera, as if reading from a slate and raised her hand for silence "Ladies and gentlemen, I have just been told, that the city of Krannar is under attack..." she wasn't even finished, as the emotions - already tensed - came to a boiling point and some of her guests jumped up, starting to curse and scream at each other. With Krannar gone, all cities left would be pro imperial, the conflict on Tertius decided. The voice of the moderate was barely understandable as she called to her producer "... pictcasts? We have video? Pull it on the screen!" All of a sudden a large flatscreen behind the discussion table sprang to live, showing the weather report of a local Krannar news channel shot at Krannars main pier only minutes ago. The discussion participants, some of them already right within a fracas ignored it... until sudden screams could be heard over the video channel. Everything in the room went silent, as crooked, grotesque monstrosities peeled from the shallow waters and climbed up the docks, tearing asunder boats, stalls and people. As panic spread at the pier, the camera man legged it and the transmitted video rolled wildly as he seemed to sprint through the narrow roads of the old town, every now and then focussing on dark shapes, swooping through the sky on bat- and crowlike wings, and warriors in spiky armor shimmering in a poisonous greenish metall tone. And over the pictures of the battle and slaughter, a kakophony of screams and agony rose to a crescendo until finally the camera went dead, only leaving white static on the big screen.

Everyone in the studio stood frozen, faces pale from shock. Lieutenant Peligrini caught the look of Oxaith and in a low and serious voice asked "Do they belong to you?" The ambassador shook her head, visibly shaken to the bone "No Gue'La...". And even in face of all the political games, both saw in the look of each other, that darker forces were at work here. And with that the broadcast was cut, only showing an official, administrative seal that did little to keep the population from panicking.
[Thumb - keep calm.jpg]

This message was edited 4 times. Last update was at 2021/05/27 11:14:22


~5600 build and painted 
   
Made in au
Storm Trooper with Maglight







Field Marshal Kendal stood in his seat of his scout car. It looked most of the population of New Mallus had flocked to greet the coming of his troops. Well greet wasn’t the right term for it. The atmosphere in the crowd was chilling. They were wondering why the battle group was here and not helping their cousins in Krannar.

He’d seen the footage, dark eldar. He didn’t want to think about what had happened to the people of Wildemar. Even if they were Tau collaborators.

Part of him knew this parade shouldn’t have gone ahead, but he’d not expected it to be so bad. People were screaming insults and throwing rubbish.

They were halfway along the boulevard when it happened. Someone tossed something at his vehicle. Commisar Lord Marsh pulled him down into the vehicle and fired into the crowd, presumably at the culprit.
Then came the blast which shook the vehicle and he felt it tipping over so he braced himself. It wasn’t his first time.

Field Marshal Kendal wiped blood from his eyes and pulled his rifle off it’s rack in the car.

Commisar Lord Marsh was holding his boltgun and taking cover next to the vehicle.
“I got the dog.” He said as a bullet cracked against the armoured floor of the car.

Kendal looked around. The problem about dogs, was there was always more than one.

Heavy and sudden gunfire was hitting general Kiro’s contingent from amongst the crowd. But the tankers and mechanised infantrymen instantly ducked into the hatches of their vehicles.
Two tanks crusied forwards to provide cover to his staff, firing their coaxel machineguns over the heads of the crowds. IFVs pushed outwards. Crushing anyone who didn’t get out of the way fast enough.

Field Marshal Kendal bit his lip. It was pointless now for him to wish that he’d put Lisander or Stendart at the head of the column instead of Kiro's battle hardened tank brigade. Hell even Hargrave would have been better.
Soldiers were disembarking from the IFVs and started herding the crowd back with loaded rifles and fixed bayonets.

Someone threw a fire-bomb from the window of a building. A tank fired a high explosive shell into the window which showered the street in rubble and dust, and that was when the crowd broke. Screaming filled the streets as people fought to get away from the boulevard. Many more died in the stampede.
Spoiler:
Okay, so the DM informed me I rolled a Major defeat on "Peacefully enter New Mallus, have a parade and a bit of a charm offensive" I think this qualifies as a major defeat in this respect.

This message was edited 11 times. Last update was at 2021/05/08 10:48:28


   
Made in ie
Nurgle Veteran Marine with the Flu





Cork, Ireland

Corvin let the cigar drop from his mouth as the broadcast ceased, leaving the ominous Imperial Aquila spinning on the screen. He sat there for a moment to process, to think of a way to keep a handle on the situation. It was deteriorating, rapidly. Much like his health or so the Officio Medicae would have him believe. He had grown gaunt in the intervening years of the Warp Storm. His appetite had waned along with much of his muscle mass. He always had a large, broad frame though even now. He pressed the button reluctantly and called Celine to muster the executives. The Imperium had to respond. He had to respond.

He ran his hands under the cold water and flushed it into his haggard face. He dipped his hands again and ran it through his silver hair, covering the thin spot at the back. He leaned on the sink heavily. It offered him some support but not the type he really needed. The speaker roused him. "The board has assembled my Lord, as you requested." He risked a glance at the mirror, no amount of water would get rid of the creases he gathered on face.

Two steel doors hissed apart to reveal the most influential individuals in the Kaliphera Sector. Executives of a dozen corporations that permeate every layer of society. If the Kaliphera System is to remain in the Imperium of man, it will be with the help of these individuals. Corin took his seat at the head of the table. He flickers through a handful of recent reports on his dataslate. The room looked at him expectantly, he never got used to the feeling.

"You've all seen it." Glances were exchanged across the table, almost as confirmation to one another. They had all seen it. "Now what are we going to do about it?" Corvin continued. The question hung in the air. The venerable Kraum Kaladis was the first to address the room. "The Tau dignitaries are already looking to turn these attacks against us. Perhaps even use it as an excuse to bring forces against us on Kornelius. We need to decide on our approach with the Tau. Either attempt to dissuade them and promise to find those responsible..or prepare for war." The thought lingered in the room. "War is not an option. Not at this moment in time." Corvin decided. He prodded the dataslate and transmitted a map to the big screen. According to reports from Tempestor Prime Gallus Tauton of the 85th Tempestus Scions, the training of the local militia is going well. He notices a degree of discipline developing in Fort Macharius that was lacking when he first arrived. Their shots are improving although still unreliable, he notes it will still take some time until they are combat ready." A man of darker complexion interrupted him, his face contorted in confusion. "Apologies Sector Lord but I must ask you what this has got to do with the Tau or our approach?" "I am just addressing that issue Mr. Raede just give me a moment." Corvin glanced down at his dataslate and continued. "I also have reports of efforts to remove the feral ork threat in the Limaesa jungle headed by the Imperial Guard regiment identifying themselves as the Thoth Askaris. They are making ..steady progress. In time I believe the militia will be sufficiently trained and the feral ork threat removed or contained enough to be left to the local militia's capabilities. This frees up forces stationed in Kaliphera Primus.." "To engage the Tau." Finished Soloman Raede. "If needs be. I believe we also have forces stationed on Kalypso in the Havernus Plains. It is with these forces that I would engage the Tau presence with. To face them while these forces are engaged elsewhere.." Corvin shook his head in dismissal of the notion. "Now I have sent a relief detachment to Krannar as soon as the alarm was raised. I am sure they will be returning to Fort Bornesher shortly. Hopefully with as many survivors as possible. We will probe these people for as much information as possible. If this.. mysterious force wishes to breach the Innisrock mountains then let them. The men at the Nightfort will throw them back into the abyss." Corvin rose, running his hands down his greatcoat. "If there is nothing else.."

Spoiler:
The Sector Lord addresses the latest loss of Wildermar and Krannar


Sgt. Vanden I bet Irish can do that by flashing his bear chest.
Sgt. Vanden Irish is the definition of a Dutch oven
 
   
Made in de
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot






"Y'all see dem lights in da woodz Boyz? Looks like dem humies still not had enough of us.Snooring around like snotlings warming their pansy little buttocks at the fire so that they not gettin no shivers." the big bellied boss Skullclubber mocked, giving his last words a high pitched nasal tone. "Lets go and make sure that da cute little humies don't oversleep!". Te boyz around him sniggered and laught louder and louder, before their leader rose them one more time "Get dem Duster-Blasters and lets go krump them! WhaAAAAGGGG!" "WHAAAGGHHH!!!!" everyone took up the call and out they went from the remains of their camps palisade towards the flickering lights of the cookfires they could see shimering through the undergrowth of the jungle.

-------

"RUN! Run ya little pansies!" Skullclubber shouted after the riders, bolting away from the campfire like a scared waterfowl, yet his laughter had started to sound hollow now after they reached the fourth one without getting a proper fight. Each time there had been not only a hand full of the humies and they had legged it before his Nobs and Boyz even reached them. They had still disintegrated two of them with the wonderful blasters they had used to repell the attacks of the last days, but Skullclubber started to get frustrated. "DAMMIT, stop runnin you snotbags!" "Ahmm... boss?" Bloddguzzler, one of his boyz voiced submissivly, eager to not pull the bosses anger on himself. "What issit you useless meatbag!" the boss replied impatiently. "Ahmm... where da fires at?" "Are ya blind boy? They's right in front of us!" "I know I know... I meant, were da fires we came by?" Skullclubber turned around and saw only darkness from where they came from... or at least where he believed they came from. "MudSniffer! Come here mate!" he called the nob that was his most trusted tracker - and got no answer. "MUDSNIFFER!" he shouted again on the top of his lungs... "Boss. I think I found him." another one of his Boyz called from around the last bend they had come from, pointing at a heap of green flesh, pickled like a hedgehog with small arrows. Around the arrowheads, his flesh looked black and necrotic, and his meaty paws were clasped around his neck, the veins there thick and blueish, his own muscles clenching his windpipe tight.

-------

A hundred meters away and high above, between the branches of the dragon threes high above, small, dark shapes creeped forward inch by inch. Chief M'gele watched the greenskins from a distance, careful to have one of his eyes closed when looking towards the last remaining fire to not ruin his night vision. From the sound of it, they seemed to finally have catched up with what was happening. So he signalled a hand gesture to his son Mugpi on one of the other trees. A low and deep humming hornblow signalled the others, and all the fires except the one the orks were standing at were put out. The Greenskins begann to shout in their foul language and walzed towards the source of the hornblow, but M'gele saw, that the blower had already vanished between the branches. M'gele put away his small bow and carefully opened the canvasbag protecting his longlas. Now that the cat was out the bag, the weapon would serve him better. Down below he could see other shapes moving in the darkness, hundreds of them... Putting the long, heavy weapon to his cheek he opened his "nighteye" and aimed for the biggest ork he could see...

-------

The night was almost over, but dawn had not yet broken. The night was dark and the watchers at the watchfire near the half repaired palisade were tensed. The Boss should have been back a long time ago. Suddenly they heard the sound of snapping branches from the border of the forrest "BOSS! THAT YOU?" their leader challenged into the dark, but no one answered. Looking at each other puzzled, one of them fumbled with a crude large calibred special shooter, aimed for the sky and fired an illumination grenade. As the burning, flickering phosphorous light slowly dwindled towards the ground, they could see the large boxy shapes between the trees and the jungle teeming with motion... hundreds, no thousands of them, almost at the barricade. Half a heartbeat before they could sound the alarm gong, autocannon shells shredded them to pieces. In the still barely lit night, a powerlance flared up, orange glowing energy surging through the ancient blade "FOR THE SKYFATHER!" the sound of one hundred thousand charging Askaris was deafening.

-------

The morningair was filled with the stink of blood, smoke and of course burning promethium. In large heapes, the Xenos burned, the smell... kind of strangely reminded them of Parasol-Mushroom steaks back home. Rasul and Bantu stood tired, but victorious around the central totem of the camp, its "metal man" pulled down at the ground beside the exotic weapons they had taken from the Greenskins. It's shape was like nothing they had ever seen before, the metallic material unidentifiable, but the shape indead roughly humanoid. The weapons were crudely wired to orkish looking parts, but down below the "handwriting" of the designer was obvious. "Do you think that's one of those battlesuits?" Bantu shrugged "It's my best guess at least. Where else should it have come from?" "But didn't they say the Tau looked a bit like a blue, noseless humans? How would a human fit inside of that?" "Beyond me. But I have seen and heard stranger things. Lets just pack it all up and send it to the Big heads at hig command. They will know what to do with it. Let's see it positive, whatever the T'au wanted here, it looks like the Greenskins got them. And with any luck they took some of those with them before they got put at this totem..."
"One thing bothers me though. This camp is to big for the number we found here. It looks like they were more, but some have gone before we came. We should find them." Bantu nodded aggreeing. "We comb through the jungle, I don't want any surprises in our back. We will find their tracks and see what they are up too."


Spoiler:
The Askaris baited some high ranking orks with the mysterious guns outside before doing an all out attack against the Wyld Huntaz at night and defeating them. Yet some of their number was not found.

This message was edited 4 times. Last update was at 2021/05/09 17:15:53


~5600 build and painted 
   
Made in ie
Nurgle Veteran Marine with the Flu





Cork, Ireland

Tyraxis looked out across the rolling plains again. Nothing had changed, except his humour. “Are you certain you were followed?” Tyraxis asked. Kascyn scowled out at the dark wilderness “I know what I saw, human battle tanks. They were reinforcing that hamlet.” Tyraxis stared at him with his piercing eyes. “Well they would have been upon us by now if that were true.” Tyraxis rubbed a finger under his chin as his eyes darted from from left to right. Archon Alistra burst into the room, four incubi snapped onto the newcomers in a second. “Do we have fools to flay or no?” she demanded. “I hate being teased..” Tyraxis glared out the window again. “I’m afraid we will have t-” He saw movement in the darkness. He squinted his eyes. Dark silhouettes clung to the road. “They are here.” announced Tyraxis. “Where is Harakor?” Tyraxis looked to Alistra who barely lifted her shoulders to shrug “Who cares, he is probably cowering in some side room clinging to his entourage. Let us have some fun.” Tyraxis grimaced beneath his helm, what was the old Archon up to?

Tyraxis and Alistra took their respective positions. Their warriors rallied around their Archons, pumping last minute combat drugs into their system. Prey was afoot and the Drukhari were hungry. The armoured convoy, believing to hold the element of surprise, turned on their lights, engulfing the compound in light. It was an abandoned building, two stories high with a rockcrete wall surrounding it. PDF forces funneled out of troop transports taking up positions around the gate. Mounted guns swivelled towards the courtyard, ready to shred it’s inhabitants. Tyraxis stood, venom blade and splinter pistol in hand. He glanced over towards Vaeryth and dipped his helm. The trap was sprung. A handful of foaming grotesques broke down the gate and charged out of the compound. The humans fired everything they had at the hulking monstrosities. To Vaeryth’s credit one of his creations managed to flip a hellhound on it’s side before it’s very matter was melted by promethium. While the grotesques drew the majority of the human’s fire, Kabalite warriors rushed to the walls of the compound, releasing payloads of splinter crystals upon their hunters. Mounted dark lances atop the abandoned building picked off the transports one by one as the PDF was quickly pushed back. Then something moved behind them..

The beleaguered PDF fired everything they had into the compound. Revenge for Wildermar. Retribution for Krannar. The dark, spiked figures fell behind their walls as their transports were picked off from something up above. Sergeant Melhart called for a salvo of grenades to be tossed over the walls. Dirt and stone rose up over the compound, hopefully softening up their targets. The Sergeant was about to relay another order as his head exploded into red mist. More and more began to be picked off, they began to realise it wasn’t from the compound either. Humanoids rushed the PDF from behind, firing strange staff like rifles into their exposed backs. Panic began to set in as the xenos from the compound sallied out led by one with a sword raised in the air. The three forces clashed amidst the ruins of the convoy. Bayonets met monomolecular blades as the Drukhari slashed the humans and the other force to pieces.

Alistra was giddy from bloodlust. She threw herself into the fray, blades hacking and slashing at anyone who got too near. Friend or foe, all were liable to get cut in her unbridled fury. She slashed at the avian creatures with glee. Tyraxis matched one of them blow for blow as he practiced the fancy swordsmanship that was so dull amongst her kin. More emerged from the treeline, spilling into the chaotic struggle. Kabalites smashed into the reinforcements, fighting with blade and grit. Alistra rushed forth, dancing around a sweeping strike and lodging a blade deep beneath the beak of her attacker. She ripped it out to deflect an oncoming blow, stepping to the side with a gleeful grin. Blood. She was covered in it. Sticky and warm. She could not tell if it was hers or these cattle. Frankly, she did not care. She threw herself at another bird creature, who bashed the stock of its staff like gun into her face. She stumbled off balance, managing to plunge both her blades into its chest. She fell to her knees, panting. She leaned on the hilt of her blades to pick herself up. Suddenly the strength had left her arms. She fell back down and noticed a sword plunged through her back. She clutched at the crimson blade. It was slippery. Her blood was all over it. She clutched onto it all the same, attempting to look her killer in the eye before it was too late. The blade retreated back out her back. She somehow managed to stay on her knees. The figure circled around to face her. Tyraxis slammed the hilt of his sword into her face and her vision began to turn cloudy...

Spoiler:
The Drukhari make a stand, Tyraxis makes a power play and the Imperium fails once more.


Sgt. Vanden I bet Irish can do that by flashing his bear chest.
Sgt. Vanden Irish is the definition of a Dutch oven
 
   
Made in de
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot






Longshaw Farm Collective – Kaliphera Primus

It had only taken some warning shots over the main compound to convince the small force of watchmen of the Longshaw Farm Collective to come out and surrender their weapons. Two dozen retired policemen and invalid ex-soldiers with rustic autoguns, merely idling away the last days to their retirement. They might have been competent in dealing with the odd brawl between workers and maybe even protect the local director if there was some unrest of the low paid farmhands but surely not eager to die for the small coin Longshaw corp. was paying them.

It was a different matter with the security detachment from their neighboring collective of Brimlaw that outnumbered them ten to one, all clad in flak vests and armed in freshly stamped lasguns – the best the civilian market had to offer. Assistant Director Stephenson was no fiend, so those that looked as if they might still be useful had been offered new contracts and the others were escorted to the main portal and send on their way. Just now he could see them standing in front of the closed iron gate, confused what to do with themselves. He chuckled and continued on his way to the main office of the collective, two of his militia by his side. Along the corridor hung paintings of stern looking dignified former directors, no doubt rotating in their graves – but he didn’t really care. As they reached the door, Stephenson was about to grab for the handle, but reconsidered, gesturing one of his man carrying a riot shield to do it in his stead. As the door swung open, a short burst of lasbolts proved his precaution to be well placed, but soon the dry “clickclickclick” of an empty laspistol gave their signal for entering.

Behind a heavy mahagoni desk, director… no former director Jacobs sat heavy in his large comfy leather chair, his face pale and defeated and looking even older and frailer than usual. His empty pistol lay on the desk before him beside his still shaking hand. “Stephenson… Tom Stephenson” he said in disbelief. “I think it’s ‘Director Stephenson’ now, Bob. Now if you would be so kind to get out of MY chair?” he replied. The old man rambled back “We always were competetors Tom and I won’t lie that we sometimes played rough. But this… You can’t just steal my farms! You just can’t!“ “Watch me! And also, just see it as hostile takeover Bob, nothing personal.” The old man’s face got red with anger... or more a light rose to be honest and he struggled feebly as Stephensons bodyguards manhandled him from his seat. In a last brittle act of defiance he tried to spit at his replacement, but missed – nonetheless earning a slap in the face as a response “I knew you were a ruthless bastard! But I would never have thought that you would sink so low to sell us to the Xenos!” he cursed, but Stephenson only laughed “You really believe that? You really think this is about politics? Please old man, don’t be so naive. It’s just business, that’s all. A war is coming and armies are marching on their stomach. We are about to get stupidly rich and I will make sure to get a nice and tasty slice of that cake…” With a nod he commanded Jacobs to be carried away, but before his second man left he calmly said “take care of the staircase. Those steps looked really slippery. Would be a shame if the former director couldn’t enjoy his retirement…” The man nodded with something cold and menacing in his eyes and left. Leaning back in the comfy leather chair Stephenson sighed and said to himself “You should not have spit at me, old man… you should not…”

Spoiler:
With the Ork menace seemingly being adressed by the Imperial Guard and war on the horizon, corporate security forces, armed worker unions and militias on Primus begin to struggle for dominance over the local ressources. Without a traditional law enforcement there is little done about it. As usually disinterested in events on the Agriworlds, the inhabitants of the other worlds remain unaware of the situation spinning out of control










This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2021/05/12 13:55:04


~5600 build and painted 
   
Made in ie
Nurgle Veteran Marine with the Flu





Cork, Ireland

Tyraxis held the mask in his hand. He thumbed the thermal shielding on the interior, nudging the twin injectors that laid underneath. Flies and maggots raced the Drukhari to scavenge the dead. The flames from the Imperial convoy had died down, yet smoke still rose from their remains. Wracks scurried amongst the dead, retrieving valuable materials for their master. Kabalites took trinkets and mementos, hoping they would be of worth in the Dark City. Tyraxis glanced down at the mask again. The empty eye sockets judged him with their silence. A grating, hoarse voice called out to him. "So our fair lady has fallen, a pity."

Harakor of the Bloody Dawn stood in his battleplate surrounded by his retinue. Much to Tyraxis' ire it remained unblemished. "No thanks to you Harakor. Your disappearance was most untimely." Tyraxis left the accusation hanging in the air, he grew tired of the game yet it had to be played. "I was overseeing the remains of the baggage train. The escort you provided was.. insufficient. Alas it seems my judgement was prudent. To lose two Archons would have been disastrous." Harakor threw an accusation of his own. "Perhaps, yet order must be reimposed before the Burning Mask is crippled by the ensuing power struggle". Harakor tilted his head a fraction "Was none of Alistra's flesh recovered? What of her haemonculi? Surely she can be resurrected". Tyraxis waved his hand dismissively "We have little time to assemble and maintain a sarcophagus to enable her rebirth. Our position is untenable, the humans will send more numerous and potent forces. We must move now."

Harakor persisted "Then perhaps we should install a puppet attached to our strings, to ensure loyalty for the duration of the raid." Tyraxis denied him again, Alistra's mask in hand. "I have a more permanent solution in mind." Harakor glanced down, taking half a step forward. "You cannot be serious her Kabal in Commorragh will never accept it." Tyraxis shrugged "Not at first, even if I absorb half of her assets into my Kabal it would be a boon." "And what of my Kabal Tyraxis? What of the Bloody Dawn?" Tyraxis smirked as he placed the mask on his face, the injectors spitting flame over his visage. "A rising tide lifts all ships Harakor, we all grow stronger together."

Spoiler:
Tyraxis and Harakor clash as the fate of the fallen Archon Alistra is discussed





This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2021/05/13 09:22:34


 
   
Made in de
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot






Aramore main spire - Kaliphera Tertius

She knew she had taken every possible measure of caution to ensure a safe communication channel and had shunned no expenses to in her security net to keep her office clean of listening devices. Non the less chief executive Michaela Schmidt could feel a cold shiver on her neck, as if being judged by the stern eyes of her predecessors starring down on her from the paintings in her office. They had kept the democratically elected senate - as well as ARATEC (TM) corporate board that was the real government of Aramore City - out of it, to many loose tongues. So it was down to her, vice president Dorfler and the old Tycoon Haansen, slumped in his large armchair, his heavy ladden eyelids almost closed as if he was asleep. They were sitting in the small office room in her private chambers in front of a compact long range com-terminal and on the other end of the line, Por’O Dal’yth Fio’Shash was just about to give his formal condolences "... have my heartfelt sympathy for the tragic losses your people suffered."

It felt ridiculous, as these talks had been nothing uncommon just months ago, but with the Imperial Guard divisions nearby and after what had happened in New Mallus, the threat of treason accusations hung in the air like a damocles sword. "Your condolences are welcome, but what we need is the threat of these butchers adressed! All the guard seems to care of is bullying the cities into submission while our Brothers and sisters die out there!" Dorfler called out inpatiently. All of them were still rattled by the vidcasts from the carnage at Wildermar and Krannar, but Dorfler was specifically shaken, loosing a sister - even if it was an estranged one - in the first attack while his son was missing together with a whole section of troops from fort Bornesher.

The T'au diplomate took the words calm and patiently, even if it was hard to deny that Dorfler had severely damaged their bargaining position with his outbreak. "Of Course, vice director. We were as shocked as you about the savagery of the attacks. Further reinforcements and multiple hunter cadres are already on their way to assist Kaliphera in these dire times. We won't let our trading partners and - might I be so frank - beloved friends, suffer if we might be able to help them." Which already implied what chief executive Schmidt had known would come sooner or later. "... unfortunatly the Imperial Strike Force has been quite clear in their disposition against us. We crave peace and want to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, so we will not go were we are unwelcome or in close proximity to the imperial forces to avoid unnecessary provocations. Our allies though can count on us to ensure their safety, especially if they feel unadequatly protected by the armies of Terra."

Schmidt and Dorfler exchanged a look, non of them really willing to take the first step that might either lead to salvation or damnation. All of a sudden Haansen, broke the deadlock "The Imperium left us out in the cold, struggling to survive on our own for over a century and now they come back and expect us to criple ourselved paying "what is due" and bow in the dirt before them. Your people always treated us fairly. We would be honored to offer our hospitality and embrace the greater good." The old man - ancient even in face of the best rejunivation treatments money could buy - might have been retired for decades, but in the dark, he still pulled the strings and called the shots. So with his word, the faith of Aramore was decided - for better or worse.

The Tau Ambassador had the dignity not to openly celebrate and merely nodded respectfully "It will be our honour and pleasure"

Spoiler:
Aramore, the closest city to the Devastation of Wildermar and Krannar - and cut of from imperial protections by a river - grabs for what seems like their last straw in the face of the Drukhari Mennace to the west

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2021/05/14 14:32:49


~5600 build and painted 
   
Made in ie
Nurgle Veteran Marine with the Flu





Cork, Ireland

Arcius stalked the long, dark maintenance shaft alone. Old, enduring pipes wept tears of water, a persistence drip. He gripped his combat shotgun close. A light at the far end flickered and waned, someone or something was pacing past the source. Xenos sympathizers were reported to be operating in the area, an ideal that has infected the other hives of Kornelius. The citizens of Ulysses Hive however still hold true to the Emperor's light, they refuse to bend an ear to malicious xenos. Well, the majority. The Adeptus Arbites relentlessly hunt these sympathisers wherever they dare rally. Tonight, they have chosen an abandoned factorium. As Arcius approached the muffled voices grew clearer. He begrudgingly listened to the rotten words fall from their lips for a moment as the rest of his Judges reached their positions. A tall, wispy figure threw his hands in the air as he spoke to the group gathered. “Our families have toiled here for generations and look at us.” He raised his hands “We are no better off than our forefathers were centuries ago. Is this what we want for our children? Our grandchildren?” co conspirators looked at one another nervously, yet the man continued. “The Tau empire offers us a once in a lifetime opportunity, not just for our immediate kin but future generations! Come join the Earth Caste and build a better tomorrow today.”

A light flickered from red to green on Arcius’ gauntlet, he stepped out from the darkness and activated his voice amplifier “Halt, you are in violation of the Lex Imperialis. Submit yourselves for interrogation immediately or be delivered the Emperor's justice.” The conspirators froze, bulging eyes scanned the room. A pair of them bolted towards the back stairs and Arcius opened fire. A slug caught one of them in the back, dropping them. He pulled back on the forearm as a casing puffed out. He turned to blast the main instigator, his head exploded into a red pulp as he pulled a rusted knife from his boot. His fellow judges spilled into the room, cyber mastiffs in tow, sniffing and growling to be let loose. Chains fell limp as the hounds were released, chasing the laborers throughout the complex. Arcius joins the hunt, as did the others. None would live to spread their lies again...

Spoiler:
Tau sympathisers are rooted out of Ulysses Hive by the Adeptas Arbites


Sgt. Vanden I bet Irish can do that by flashing his bear chest.
Sgt. Vanden Irish is the definition of a Dutch oven
 
   
Made in au
Storm Trooper with Maglight







During the debacle General Lisander had established a base east of the primary starport, she’d drawn up firing solutions to provide the forces in the city covering fire should they require it. That was Lisander, efficient as always.
Field Marshal Kendal shivered at the thought of what could have been. The vision of his vehicles pushing into the crowd was one that was going to stick with him for a while, they always did when things went so unexpectly badly. He just thanked the emperor that it never came to having to extract his force from a hostile city. He just thanked the emperor he didn’t have to see the results of a heavy artillery bombardment on a heavily packed crowd.
The threat of revolt or strife had been quelled with the presence of heavy tanks from the 85th Breakthrough and 891st Heavy tank regiment at crucial parts of the city. The people had seen the 78th tank brigade in action. As ruthless as it was efficient, it was as if a dragon had wrapped itself around their city that night and they’d not dare wake it. No doubt that was how those troopers from Karsk had seen it.
That they the dragon of wrath had been sent by emperor had descended on this city and given it a hint of its fury, nothing like the firestorm that would be wreathed But also the dragon had wrapped its wings over and around the city, and so the taint of xenos and chaos would not enter, and would be rooted out.
That last point was a poignant one at this moment.
Garos stuck his head through the doorway. “Sir, Sir Tradjan is here to see you.”
“Good, send him in.” Kendal replied.
Tradjan was an interesting man, he didn’t yet hold title to a mechanised battle suit. But he his family had wealth and means and he was extremely welly educated and efficient. He seemed out of place in Count Hargrave’s inner circle.
Either way Field Marshal Kendal was thankful for having such an efficient intelligence officer on side, they were hard to find.

He greeted Tradjan.
“Field marshal.” Tradjan didn’t salute, he wasn’t military afterall.
“The captive has,” “Indicated a hostility to the imperium and even that the rest of the city is blind to what he phrased ‘the true cause’ we've found no evidence of the mark tattooed on the bodies of some of the gunmen that we slew that day.”
“And the other members?” Kendal asked.
“Our hunting parties have tracked them to a network safe house in the industrial quarter”,he indicated some locations on Kendal’s holo map, “It does seem to be a radical cell, their ideology is as much against the administration as it is against us. It seems they have acquired much of their equipment from the stores of the PDF garrison, at least some of their number is among the PDF.”
Kendal had read most of the earlier reports. He was impressed by the sucsess of the hunting parties to track and follow suspects in the immediate carnage of the debacle.
“How much of the organisation are we following here?”
“It seems this was a big gamble and involved a large portion of the organisation, estimates are around 70-80% of the organisation.” Tradjan replied.
“We must show upmost efficiency strength at this point.” Kendal pulled at his moustache hairs, it’d do little to temper the ill-will the population had, but it’d dull the outright hostility that threatened to break out.
Field Marshal Kendal discerningly took a handful of intel papers. “Garos, I want a copy of this information forwarded to the governor’s palace immediately. I want anyone captured alive to be handed over to the authorities. This needs to look like by the book cooperation.”
"Sir should I tell the governor that we're about to commence raids within the city limits?"
"Of course not Garos. I only said it needs to look like it."
“Tradjan. Give the order.”


Sir Haerin Vastoral, Lion of Sebam enjoyed hunting, he enjoyed moving through any landscape or scene with his old hunting rifle. It wasn’t any different on this rooftop of a chemical plant on the other side of the galaxy.
It was raining heavily that night, it was good weather for his hunting party, and the others to be about their business.
He looked down the scope of the old slug thrower, with his bionic eye. There was no hint of lights beyond the doors of the warehouse, although the figure holding the automatic rifle. He was in the shadows and out of the weather. After-all who’d be out in this weather?
The other man looked his way and Sir Haerin saw the signature tell-tale flash of cheap, military grade night vision.
Oh yes, that was why his man was so confident.
His commlink to command buzzed. “All hunting parties, commence eradication of targets.”
Sir Haerin waited till the man glanced up the street. Lightning crashed across the sky and Sir Haerin stepped off the roof of the chem plant. He fired the rockets of his jump pack to decelerate himself. He ran to the street corner and rushed to the corner of an outbuilding.
From there he peaked out and saw the man occupied talking to another member of the cult.
“Lion teams, commence action.” He commanded his men at arms.
He slipped the camo-cloak from his shoulders and stepped out from behind the building. He raised the rifle and fired. The gunshot was loud even in the swirling rain and crashing thunder of the night.
The first figure went down, the other staring dumb after it like so many before. Man, beast or xenos that was how it happened. His hand was practiced and it didn’t take a moment or a thought to work the bolt. He fired again and the second figure went down.
Figures appeared from the alley on the far side of the warehouse. Sir Haerin jetted closer as time was of the essence.
Two of his men split into the warehouse. A hail of gunfire came towards them from across the room. His men pressed forwards laying down gunfire in response and trusting in their carapace armour.
By the time he reached the door more of his men were spilling into the room and the gunfire was dying off.
There was several captives kneeling on the cold hard rockrete floor of warehouse. Understandably they were afraid.
He checked over the bodies. Them and the living matched the numbers his teams had seen sneak into the warehouse during the confusion.
“That’s them all.” He said after a few moments.
“Good job everyone.”

Spoiler:
Hours after the attacks on the Commonwealth Battlegroup during its entry into New Mallus a minor separatist faction tjat was responsible for sparking the violence is rooted out, this somewhat succeeds in descalating tensions.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2021/05/19 00:33:08


   
 
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