YourGodDoesntLiveHere
07-17-2006, 4:56 PM
The fringes of space are cold, but some say, not so cold as the center of the galaxy. Few things that go in have ever come out, and even fewer come out alive. Now, at the will of the Emperor, the Imperium of Man strives to reach its ever shrinking grip into the depths of the center of the galaxy. Many say the expedition will be crushed, leaving the worlds of Man defenseless against invasion or civil war. The Space Marines and The Imperial Guard go to wrest this space from the cold grip of enternity.
Strike Cruiser Bilandri, en route to sector Omega Five.
Ships Chapel
Chapter Commanders Briefing
1500 hours
High Inquisitor Charpel walked through the mass of Commanders gathered in the chapel and climbed swiftly up the stairs to the pulpit. He raised his hands and the room immediently fell silent, all men turning to look to him. The resounding ring of ships plating sounded as the all spun to attention, their various power armors slamming their feet into the deck a bit harder than needed. The Inquisitor cleared his throat and lowered his arms.
"Today and for the Emperor Himself knows how long after, we fly into the core of our galaxy, hoping to capture more worlds for the Imperium to spred itself across. You are the commanders of your Chapters, the leaders of hundreds of good, fighting men. You must go, and tell them, that they may never go back to their homes, when this is all over." He took a sheaf of folders from a waiting servitor and walked among the commanders, other servitors with more folders following. The commander of the Blood Eagles spoke up as he recieved his orders.
"So I have to go back to my ship, and tell my men, that over. . ."he opened the folder and his eyes widened at the expected causualty statistics, "70% will never go home?" he said, trying to control his rage. The High Inquisitor turned to look at him.
"Yes Brother-Commander, that is what you must do. Do you not have the stamina to do so? I can tell them myself over the vox-comm if you wish. . ." he said, letting the sentence trail off as an obvious dig at the commanders anger. The commander sighed and shook his head.
"No, Inquisitor, you need not." he said, and slowly walked out f the Chapel, head low, feet almost shuffling. The other commanders beegan to slowly file out, talking amongst one another as they went towards the launch bays to get back to their respective strike cruisers. As the last commander walked out of the room a shadow detached from the walls at the back of the Chapel where no braziers had been casting light. The shadow came to stand behind the High Inquisitor.
"Do you think it was wise? To challenge Brother Charel like that?" the figure asked. The High Inquisitor remained silent for some time, trying to decide whether to answer the man. Finally he sighed and shook his head.
"I don't know what is right anymore brother."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Planet Squiggoths Run, dead zone of Sector Omega One.
Ork encampment, lead by Warboss Crushum.
1500 hours
The nob fell to the ground with a crash, his left arm ripped off at the shoulder by the other nobs power klaw. Blood squirted across the ground, coating the inside of the ring of spectators and even some of the spectators with gore. The nob jumped up, seeming unphased by the missing apendage and roared at the other.
"Me will killz you nob! Youz not survive for chow!" he yell, charging the other with his power klaw extended in front of him to skewer his opponent. The older ork, with his left eye missing and his right arm made of biomechanial implant, as best as the grots could make, sidestepped and grabbed the power klaw of the nob with his mechanical hand and spun inside the others guard biting into his arm and tearing it off in a shower of blood. The other, now armless, was unable to prevent himself from falling on the slick snow. THe blood and gore showered around his thrashing body, as he futilely attempted to replace his right arm with his mouth. The ring of orks and his opponent watched for over an hour as the nob twitched and bleed. It gave a final twitch and the orks ringing the two combatents, clothed in red, orange and grey, let out a yell. The other orks watching, clothed purely in black, immdiently roared and leaped upon those not wearing their colors. Knives and swords were drawn, along with sluggas and shootas, and shots rang out, many orks dropping dead or twitching.
One ork pulled out a bigga shoota from a crate nearby and pulled the trigger. It clicked and his mouth hung stupidly open as he stuck his finger down the barrel. He bumped the trigger as he did this, and it promptly exploded, sending chunks of him flying onto a tent a few yards away. The pieces hit the tent with several wet thuds and a roar sounded from within the tent. The tent was torn apart as a huge, armored form tore through the front of it, scattering the gretchins trying to clean up the chunks of the misfired ork. Warboss Crushum came barreling out of the tent and into the mass of fighting orks, scattering many and inadvertanatly crushing several. He grabbed two up in each elaw and slammed their heads together. The unfortunate orks heads promptly exploded and covered the fighting orks in blood and brains. Every ork immidiently stopped fighting and put their weapons away. The warboss scattered a few more with sweeps of his massive arms and yelled at the crowd.
"You stupid idiuts think youz cun just fight eac othas and kill and smash and burn?! You think the humies won't com lookin for us?! They'll be here any. . " he stopped as a mass of gretchins came speeding up around a corner of stacked boxes and slammed into the warbosses legs. They picked themselves up and hopped onto the warbosses suit and whispered in his ear. The warboss's eyes widened and he roared again. The grots toppled off in suprise and went scuttering away squeling. He grabbed another ork from the drowd and neatly bisected him, throwing his blood spewing pieces out into the crowd.
"There are humie ships a-comin! Get ready fa waaagh!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Planet Mour'chon, Sector Omega Nine.
Small hunting party in the southern jungles.
1500 hours
The skeletal forms moved through the jungle, leaves and plants barely moving with their passing. A small rodent chittered as a soft footfall sounded by its head, and scittered off, leaving behind a trail in the grass and dew. A small crackling of energy sounded through the jungle, barely audiable, but enough to send several birds into flight through the canopy. A deer-like creature stood in a clearing, its head and neck bent close to the ground, carefuly picking blades of grass from the ground and looking around with slight movements of its head as it chewed. A small glint of metal shone from the bushes behind it and a small click echoed through the clearing. The deer started and jumped away, a blast of green energy slamming into a tree right behind where its head had been seconds ago.
The skeletal figures burst from the jungles cover and sprinted after the deer, still making hardly a sound or a mark of their passing. The deer looked back for a moment and saw three shadows against the darkness of this area of the jungle in which little light shone through the trees. Another crackle of energy rang out from the left side of the deer, and with its limited intelligence, it wondered how the hunters had surrounded it, moments before the energ slammed into its head. It fell, the energy instantly beginning to consume its head, the flesh, muscles and bone being disolved. It yelped once as the energy bit into its brain and fell silent, the head consumed, but the body unharmed. The three skeletal warriors cut it in three and began to run back through the jungle.
Base camp
The three hunters came into the camp as the two other parties did as well. A figure in a tight, black suit, with a midnight blue robe around his should, strode out of the main tent and came to greet the hunting parties. He took his staff and swept it over the hunters heads. He seemed to be looking for something, but not being able to find it, stuck the staff into the ground at the pointed end and took a clawed hand to the nearest piece of meat, tearing off a chunk and stuffing it into what amounted for a mouth. He promptly spit it out and stood, grabbing his staff and twirling it. He screeched and two of the hunters of one party pointed to the other. The one with the staff screached again and rammed the staff into the crouching hunters head. The thing twitched for a moment, before its head exploded, showering "blood'' across the clearing. The leader screached as the headless body collapsed to the ground and three figures came from the tent it had come from, and took the meat and began to cook it. The hunter retired to their tents.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eldar ship, The Retribution of Darkness, Sector Omega Four.
Bridge
1500 hours
The Eldar captain looked up at the viewport as the communications officer reported that, five crons ago, he had intercepted a transmission from a human fleet. The captain nearly sighed and raised his shuriken pistol as the officer prostrated himself at the feet of the captain. He pointed at the officers head and pushed the firing button, and a single star-like projectile spit from the barrel and into the officers head, cutting straight through the skull back out out through his left eye, letting a small stream of blood out through the wound. The officer collapsed to the deck and two other Eldar instantly took the body away, as another cleaned up the blood. The captain looked around to the three replacement officers for the one he had just killed and suddenly had an idea. He pointed to the comm station and said, simply.
"The first one who can tell me where the transmission came from will be promoted." At this, the three scrambled down to the station and began punching in commands and listening to what they could find. Several minutes later, one of the officers came leaping up onto the command platform and told the captain everything he needed to know.
"The transmission came from Sector Twail Fifty, captain." said the officer as the otehr two looked on in horror, realizing what was about to happen. As if sensing their distress, the captain once again pulled out his pistol, and in two, quick, controlled bursts, blew off both of the failing officers heads. He then nodded to the remaining officer.
"Man your post, and sned a message to the High Commander. We have found a human fleet, what are your orders?" The officer nodded and jumped to his job.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unknown location
Chaos strike cruiser for the Sons of Khorne
1500 hours
Malresh stood next to the captain of the strike cruiser The Sword of Khorne and fidgeted slightly. He stood tall, almost six feet, with his legs at least two and a half of that. His arms behind his back at parade rest, occasionaly coming up to brush at his head, his bald, scarred head a reminder of that Emperor-be-damned space marine on Armageddon. He would have to watch for flamers from now on, seeing as they could do a warp of a lot of damage. He looked over to the captain, who stood at the pulpit, ocassionaly looking to the stations in the bridge of his ship, but mosty staring out of the viewport. And what a sight it was. Black it seemed, but always a stream of gold, or red, purple, green or blue streaked by, sometimes turning right around and ramming into the ship with the force of an Imperial lance. Yes, the Warp was an interesting place, but you could feel it driving you mad. It bit at your soul, what soul the forces of the Chaos Marines had left anyway. It felt like you would never escape, even though in your mind you knew you would. Malresh wanted to be out of here, but High Command had said to ambush this human fleet encroaching on their space. So, they would wait, until such a time as it passed them. He checked a pad and saw that it would only be another two hours. He sighed and walked off the bridge, and went to the weapons locked, where many of his fellow warriors of Khorne were suiting up and checking their weapons. He stomped in and his Sword of Dark saluted him. He nodded.
"At ease, Sword. No need for formalities when there isn't a commander around." The Sword laughed, deep a throaty, a laugh like evil incarnate, thanks to his vocal cords having been ripped out several years ago. His voice ocassionaly clicked as he responded.
"Force of habbit Malresh, force of habbit. After all, there should be a commander around here in a bit to give us our orders." He hefted his bolter and sighted along the barrel. "Shouldn't there be?" he asked, looking over the stock at Malresh. The Blood Captain nodded.
"Should be, Val, should be." he said, turning to look at the other warriors.
"Well make it quick! Can't wait to kill the servants of the False Emperor forever!" he yelled, and the other soldiers responded.
"For Khorne! Down with the False Emperor!" Malresh smiled, knowing they would be ready when the time came.
Forgive spelling and such, and its probably not on par with most of my stuff, but eh, less than 8 hours of sleep in 6 days will do that two you. First come first serve to whoever wants to post.
Strike Cruiser Bilandri, en route to sector Omega Five.
Ships Chapel
Chapter Commanders Briefing
1500 hours
High Inquisitor Charpel walked through the mass of Commanders gathered in the chapel and climbed swiftly up the stairs to the pulpit. He raised his hands and the room immediently fell silent, all men turning to look to him. The resounding ring of ships plating sounded as the all spun to attention, their various power armors slamming their feet into the deck a bit harder than needed. The Inquisitor cleared his throat and lowered his arms.
"Today and for the Emperor Himself knows how long after, we fly into the core of our galaxy, hoping to capture more worlds for the Imperium to spred itself across. You are the commanders of your Chapters, the leaders of hundreds of good, fighting men. You must go, and tell them, that they may never go back to their homes, when this is all over." He took a sheaf of folders from a waiting servitor and walked among the commanders, other servitors with more folders following. The commander of the Blood Eagles spoke up as he recieved his orders.
"So I have to go back to my ship, and tell my men, that over. . ."he opened the folder and his eyes widened at the expected causualty statistics, "70% will never go home?" he said, trying to control his rage. The High Inquisitor turned to look at him.
"Yes Brother-Commander, that is what you must do. Do you not have the stamina to do so? I can tell them myself over the vox-comm if you wish. . ." he said, letting the sentence trail off as an obvious dig at the commanders anger. The commander sighed and shook his head.
"No, Inquisitor, you need not." he said, and slowly walked out f the Chapel, head low, feet almost shuffling. The other commanders beegan to slowly file out, talking amongst one another as they went towards the launch bays to get back to their respective strike cruisers. As the last commander walked out of the room a shadow detached from the walls at the back of the Chapel where no braziers had been casting light. The shadow came to stand behind the High Inquisitor.
"Do you think it was wise? To challenge Brother Charel like that?" the figure asked. The High Inquisitor remained silent for some time, trying to decide whether to answer the man. Finally he sighed and shook his head.
"I don't know what is right anymore brother."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Planet Squiggoths Run, dead zone of Sector Omega One.
Ork encampment, lead by Warboss Crushum.
1500 hours
The nob fell to the ground with a crash, his left arm ripped off at the shoulder by the other nobs power klaw. Blood squirted across the ground, coating the inside of the ring of spectators and even some of the spectators with gore. The nob jumped up, seeming unphased by the missing apendage and roared at the other.
"Me will killz you nob! Youz not survive for chow!" he yell, charging the other with his power klaw extended in front of him to skewer his opponent. The older ork, with his left eye missing and his right arm made of biomechanial implant, as best as the grots could make, sidestepped and grabbed the power klaw of the nob with his mechanical hand and spun inside the others guard biting into his arm and tearing it off in a shower of blood. The other, now armless, was unable to prevent himself from falling on the slick snow. THe blood and gore showered around his thrashing body, as he futilely attempted to replace his right arm with his mouth. The ring of orks and his opponent watched for over an hour as the nob twitched and bleed. It gave a final twitch and the orks ringing the two combatents, clothed in red, orange and grey, let out a yell. The other orks watching, clothed purely in black, immdiently roared and leaped upon those not wearing their colors. Knives and swords were drawn, along with sluggas and shootas, and shots rang out, many orks dropping dead or twitching.
One ork pulled out a bigga shoota from a crate nearby and pulled the trigger. It clicked and his mouth hung stupidly open as he stuck his finger down the barrel. He bumped the trigger as he did this, and it promptly exploded, sending chunks of him flying onto a tent a few yards away. The pieces hit the tent with several wet thuds and a roar sounded from within the tent. The tent was torn apart as a huge, armored form tore through the front of it, scattering the gretchins trying to clean up the chunks of the misfired ork. Warboss Crushum came barreling out of the tent and into the mass of fighting orks, scattering many and inadvertanatly crushing several. He grabbed two up in each elaw and slammed their heads together. The unfortunate orks heads promptly exploded and covered the fighting orks in blood and brains. Every ork immidiently stopped fighting and put their weapons away. The warboss scattered a few more with sweeps of his massive arms and yelled at the crowd.
"You stupid idiuts think youz cun just fight eac othas and kill and smash and burn?! You think the humies won't com lookin for us?! They'll be here any. . " he stopped as a mass of gretchins came speeding up around a corner of stacked boxes and slammed into the warbosses legs. They picked themselves up and hopped onto the warbosses suit and whispered in his ear. The warboss's eyes widened and he roared again. The grots toppled off in suprise and went scuttering away squeling. He grabbed another ork from the drowd and neatly bisected him, throwing his blood spewing pieces out into the crowd.
"There are humie ships a-comin! Get ready fa waaagh!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Planet Mour'chon, Sector Omega Nine.
Small hunting party in the southern jungles.
1500 hours
The skeletal forms moved through the jungle, leaves and plants barely moving with their passing. A small rodent chittered as a soft footfall sounded by its head, and scittered off, leaving behind a trail in the grass and dew. A small crackling of energy sounded through the jungle, barely audiable, but enough to send several birds into flight through the canopy. A deer-like creature stood in a clearing, its head and neck bent close to the ground, carefuly picking blades of grass from the ground and looking around with slight movements of its head as it chewed. A small glint of metal shone from the bushes behind it and a small click echoed through the clearing. The deer started and jumped away, a blast of green energy slamming into a tree right behind where its head had been seconds ago.
The skeletal figures burst from the jungles cover and sprinted after the deer, still making hardly a sound or a mark of their passing. The deer looked back for a moment and saw three shadows against the darkness of this area of the jungle in which little light shone through the trees. Another crackle of energy rang out from the left side of the deer, and with its limited intelligence, it wondered how the hunters had surrounded it, moments before the energ slammed into its head. It fell, the energy instantly beginning to consume its head, the flesh, muscles and bone being disolved. It yelped once as the energy bit into its brain and fell silent, the head consumed, but the body unharmed. The three skeletal warriors cut it in three and began to run back through the jungle.
Base camp
The three hunters came into the camp as the two other parties did as well. A figure in a tight, black suit, with a midnight blue robe around his should, strode out of the main tent and came to greet the hunting parties. He took his staff and swept it over the hunters heads. He seemed to be looking for something, but not being able to find it, stuck the staff into the ground at the pointed end and took a clawed hand to the nearest piece of meat, tearing off a chunk and stuffing it into what amounted for a mouth. He promptly spit it out and stood, grabbing his staff and twirling it. He screeched and two of the hunters of one party pointed to the other. The one with the staff screached again and rammed the staff into the crouching hunters head. The thing twitched for a moment, before its head exploded, showering "blood'' across the clearing. The leader screached as the headless body collapsed to the ground and three figures came from the tent it had come from, and took the meat and began to cook it. The hunter retired to their tents.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eldar ship, The Retribution of Darkness, Sector Omega Four.
Bridge
1500 hours
The Eldar captain looked up at the viewport as the communications officer reported that, five crons ago, he had intercepted a transmission from a human fleet. The captain nearly sighed and raised his shuriken pistol as the officer prostrated himself at the feet of the captain. He pointed at the officers head and pushed the firing button, and a single star-like projectile spit from the barrel and into the officers head, cutting straight through the skull back out out through his left eye, letting a small stream of blood out through the wound. The officer collapsed to the deck and two other Eldar instantly took the body away, as another cleaned up the blood. The captain looked around to the three replacement officers for the one he had just killed and suddenly had an idea. He pointed to the comm station and said, simply.
"The first one who can tell me where the transmission came from will be promoted." At this, the three scrambled down to the station and began punching in commands and listening to what they could find. Several minutes later, one of the officers came leaping up onto the command platform and told the captain everything he needed to know.
"The transmission came from Sector Twail Fifty, captain." said the officer as the otehr two looked on in horror, realizing what was about to happen. As if sensing their distress, the captain once again pulled out his pistol, and in two, quick, controlled bursts, blew off both of the failing officers heads. He then nodded to the remaining officer.
"Man your post, and sned a message to the High Commander. We have found a human fleet, what are your orders?" The officer nodded and jumped to his job.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unknown location
Chaos strike cruiser for the Sons of Khorne
1500 hours
Malresh stood next to the captain of the strike cruiser The Sword of Khorne and fidgeted slightly. He stood tall, almost six feet, with his legs at least two and a half of that. His arms behind his back at parade rest, occasionaly coming up to brush at his head, his bald, scarred head a reminder of that Emperor-be-damned space marine on Armageddon. He would have to watch for flamers from now on, seeing as they could do a warp of a lot of damage. He looked over to the captain, who stood at the pulpit, ocassionaly looking to the stations in the bridge of his ship, but mosty staring out of the viewport. And what a sight it was. Black it seemed, but always a stream of gold, or red, purple, green or blue streaked by, sometimes turning right around and ramming into the ship with the force of an Imperial lance. Yes, the Warp was an interesting place, but you could feel it driving you mad. It bit at your soul, what soul the forces of the Chaos Marines had left anyway. It felt like you would never escape, even though in your mind you knew you would. Malresh wanted to be out of here, but High Command had said to ambush this human fleet encroaching on their space. So, they would wait, until such a time as it passed them. He checked a pad and saw that it would only be another two hours. He sighed and walked off the bridge, and went to the weapons locked, where many of his fellow warriors of Khorne were suiting up and checking their weapons. He stomped in and his Sword of Dark saluted him. He nodded.
"At ease, Sword. No need for formalities when there isn't a commander around." The Sword laughed, deep a throaty, a laugh like evil incarnate, thanks to his vocal cords having been ripped out several years ago. His voice ocassionaly clicked as he responded.
"Force of habbit Malresh, force of habbit. After all, there should be a commander around here in a bit to give us our orders." He hefted his bolter and sighted along the barrel. "Shouldn't there be?" he asked, looking over the stock at Malresh. The Blood Captain nodded.
"Should be, Val, should be." he said, turning to look at the other warriors.
"Well make it quick! Can't wait to kill the servants of the False Emperor forever!" he yelled, and the other soldiers responded.
"For Khorne! Down with the False Emperor!" Malresh smiled, knowing they would be ready when the time came.
Forgive spelling and such, and its probably not on par with most of my stuff, but eh, less than 8 hours of sleep in 6 days will do that two you. First come first serve to whoever wants to post.