Another Warhammer 40,000 RP (IC Thread)

[Danbershan]

OOC/Sign-Ups Thread Here!

All other information can be found in the above OOC Thread

It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that he may never truly die.Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.

Rules: Yes, yes. Got to have these.

No godmodding. Let's say that you've god some SPEHS MARIN'S with Terminator armour, and you're facing a large opposing force. Now, you'll take out quite a few, depending on how you approach the situation, but you won't kill. . . say 5,000 without taking a single casualty. Keep it realistic, or as realistic as 40k gets.

No one liners. If you're going to post, I'd prefer at least five sentences per post, although I'd love to see some imagination, and a couple paragraphs per post. But, I'll settle for at least five lines. Now, I'm not going to stress having absolutely perfect punctuation and grammar, but keep it within limits. Treat this as if you're a writer, and you're writing a story. There's some damn etiquette for this sort of thing.

I reserve the right to set a cap on any race. If I feel as if there are too many players for one race, I will not allow further applications for that race, and I will kindly ask that a few apps be switched over to a race more needed.

Now, I don't mind RP'ing your character killing one or two enemies, so long as they're basic NPC's and the player controlling the force in question is fine with it. But no RP'ing your guys (or girls) just mowing through enemies without the permission of the player RP'ing those enemies.

Under no circumstances are you allowed to take control of other people's characters without their permission.

All of the above is real basic, beginner stuff, so I'm quite sure you all already know it.

Now, let's get in there.

[Alowwvia]

The Trohola desert could, in these Aurorian Summers, be almost completely unbearable. For the Tau, avoiding heat stroke was often a matter of barring as little armor as possible, while still maintaining professional appearances. Usually, wearing a Battlesuit was a point of pride for the fire warrior, but it was hard to focus on such an aspect when it felt like they were sitting in an oven. Thermal shielding did only so much to cool down the patrolling XV8 Crisis-Suits as they patroled the outskirts of N'uja outpost; the west-most outpost of the Tau's desert base, only a small distance south-west of Damash.

The humming and buzzing of instrument refocused the attention of the Fire Team's leader, who's sand-colored battlesuit raised a single, thickly-armored arm up. A pair of twin-linked burst cannons shimmered in the sunlight, and the 5 other battlesuits stopped in their tracks as well, the whnirring of mechanical joints ceasing. The dozen or so drones, of various shape and model, stopped as well, and hovered in a halo-like formation over the squad of mech-clad warriors.

"Hold up..." The leader of the patrol starts. "This is where the Vespid patrol went missing last night..." A mechanical voice rings through the comm of the suits in the Fire Warrior Team, as the other arm, ending in the barrel of a plasma rifle, points between two tall dunes. Lowering the left arm in a slow, strangely organic motion, the leader proceeds to take a few short strides at an acute angle towards the dunes, and quickly runs up over them. The Blacksun Filters of his fellow patrolmen adjust to the harsh sunlight as their boxy, sensor-filled heads turn up to watch their commander, the brilliant Aurora sun shining just over his shoulder.

"...By the Ethereals..." A short gasped statement of repulsion followed, and the leader poised his battlesuit, shifting its foot down and letting it slide gracefully down the dune. Without hesitation, the other five Crisis suits soon followed, somewhat less gracefully making strides between the dunes. Their pilots were soon too taken aback, as the drones circling overhead lowered to get a closer view as well. The patrol's leader, closest to the scene, leans down, and nudges the offending object with his rifle.


A severed arm; appearing as if ripped from the shoulder and partially cauterized by heat. It was mangled, but still recognizable as Vespid. A short survey of the surrounding area revealed... a similair scene. And as the wind whipped across the desert, the disturbed pilots could easily see the body parts of the insect auxillaries revealed and hidden over and over again, their limbs often sticking from the sand. Their weapons and equipment... no where to be found.

"...This is definitely a problem..."

[Legital]

With a shutter, the Serene Fire exited the Warp and appeared over Aurora, high above the atmosphere. The large Mars-class Battlecruiser was not of the Imperial Navy, nor was it a Chaos vessel. It was the vessel of a Rouge trader, Ibram Hess. And to distinguish it out, it was painted black, with red and white finishes. Any Imperial touches such as the Aquila or any eagles were removed. Hess hated it when he was fired upon in the belief that his vessel was with the Imperial Navy. It had happened a few times before, but of course the Battlecruiser was barely scratched. The ships armament was also more than capable.

There was another shutter throughout the ship, which shook some of the paintings inside of Hess's cabin. Hess frowned; they should have been in the warp a little longer than a week. Its only been three days by his count. He reached out to put his glass of aged Amasec down on the table in front of him, but decided against it. If the ship shook again, he did not want his beverage spilled all over his floor. So Hess stood, and walked over to a small vox-intercom that was built into the wall. With one hand, he pressed the button and spoke. "Raan, what might be the problem with my ship?" He asked patiently with his cool voice. In just a moment, a male voice came crackling over the intercom. "Something fragged up the Warp-drives real good. From what the Enginseers say, we wont be able to go into the Warp for atleast a week. That is, if things are what they think."

Hess took a sip of his Amasec, and thought for a moment. "And what is it that the Enginseers think?" There was a moment of silence, and Hess could hear some voices in the background of the intercom. "Some sort of wiring malfunction. Anything more and we could be stuck here from two weeks to two months." Hess closed his eyes, and sighed. "Very well. Are we near any inhabited planets? I know we are on the fringe out here." Almost immediately, Raan answered back. "Yes, Aurora. Some backwater planet, we don't have alot of information on it other than it is fairly populated. It also seems to have a colorful history as well. I'll have someone deliver the information to you Ibram." Hess gulped the last bit of Amasec he had, and acknowledged Raan.

Hess turned to go back to his seat, but stopped as there was another shutter. I'll have those Enginseers heads if they don't get this fixed he thought angrily to himself. To his left, a picture was tilted, and Hess went over to straighten it. It was the painting Blood River. It depicted the aftermath of a conflict with Imperial Guard forces and Chaos forces.Thousands of bodies and wrecks strewn about; it was quite a sight when the battle was over. Such a horrendous sight, that someone just had to capture the image on canvas. It was one of Hess's favorite works of art. It proved as a reminder to Hess on just how fragile Human life could be.


Hess walked over to his luscious couch, and sat down on it, propping his feet up on the table. He reached for a nearby bottle of Amasec, and poured himself another glass. In just a short while, he would be heading down to Aurora. If there was one thing Hess enjoyed more than being a Rogue Trader and all the things that came with that occupation, it was sampling the local brew.

[Valdehmar]

The space surrounding the Crimson Scythe tore open as the light-cruiser emerged from the warp. It left but a minute signature of warp-trail behind it, the equivalent of a small drop pod and it maintained complete astropathic and vox silence. The ship was a heavily modified Dauntless-class that had been stolen while docked on Cadia, the captain having been murdered and his assassin taking on his body using polymorphine. The ship had an unusually large engine, roughly equivalent to an Adeptes Astartes Stike Cruiser, specifically designed to allow it to be much faster than other ships its size. It also had a cloaking system, and Heavy signal-cancellers in order to maintain the level of stealth associated with a Callidus Assassin. Lastly, it had battleship equivalent shielding, and an enormously over-sized and overclocked plasma generator in order to power all of the additions.



Tidus was here for work, and it would find some. It couldn't be surpassed in skill by even the Space Marines themselves, and it was confident that other work would be simple -simple, and lucrative.

[Al-Harbiyyah]

Aurora Space,

A large Warp rift tear the material realm as a small Imperial fleet consists of one Retribution-class Battleships, escorted by five Cobra-class Destroyer and several Imperial Transports emerges from it. They arrived along with a compliment of Imperial Guard of the Tallarn 234th Regiments which has been dispatched by Adeptus Munitorum to reinforce the Imperial presence on Aurora.

Lord-General Farad Al-Walid of the Tallarn is a veteran warrior who served the Imperium for as long as he remembered. He is now currently looking the planet Aurora from his view at the ships bridge.

"Shipmaster, is this Planet Aurora?" He asks the Shipmaster of the fleet.

"According to the Star Map, yes it is." The Shipmaster replied.

"Good, now we will begin our deployment of the troops." Farad informed and then he saw several large Imperial Transport making planet fall and he decided that he is also need on the field right now.

[G-Tech Corporation]

GridCoords F-11 SW
Timestamp 30 Hours 11 Minutes After Awakening
The Crimson Lord

The Crimson Lord stood erect atop a dune, the sand grating at his necrodermis feet as the wind stirred it in small swirls before the sandstorm away to the north west. The breeze tugged at his long black cloak, whipping it around his legs, and his skull-like head languidly rotated to take in the beings below his lofty position. Eyes flamed briefly with a burst of gleeful emotion as he noted internally the kills of his returning raiding party. Thirty-six organics extinguished, and the young denizens of this world were none the wiser. His Necrons marched with the relentless walk of the immortal back to the entrance to the Tomb, and shortly after he stalked down the shifting surface of the dune to join them.

As he strode into their midst the necrodermis constructs clustered around him, his presence compelling them to obey and protect him over their lower-level master. This group was composed primarily of Scarabs, Tomb Spyders, and Warriors, but a band of the Immortals, ancient guards of his people, clustered around their lesser lord. Gvalsthun, the leader of this raiding force, stood erect as he stalked back into the gloomy environs of the tomb, and the Crimson Lord walked with ponderous steps over to him. The Thristing Stalker was an astute tactician, skilled in the art of ambush and battlefield manuevers, and was thus one of the first Lords the Bringer of the Inferno had awakened to lead his forays into the world above. The Crimson Lord projected affirmation at his underling's actions in destroying the slime's warparty; these young races would be expunged from this world, scraped from its surface by the iron will of the Necrons. All was going according to his plan.

The band had indeed been successful in their task to encounter and assess the capabilities of the young races that had occupied this world in the absence of the Crimson Lord. This raiding party had obliterated a small force of a strange form of insectoid with no casualties, just as they would soon overrun this world. Deep under the sea to the west the Tomb was stirring, the Crypteks awakening the true power of the Necrons. Internally the Crimson Lord was quite satisfied with the progress of his forces on this world; if the younger races did not oppose him soon then it would be tremndoulsy difficult for their forces present on this world to so much as minorly delay the destruction of their world. The Masheau Dynasty would reign supreme on this world, and many others shortly.



GridCoords F-11 NC
Timestamp 35 Hours 19 Minutes After Awakening
The Walker in the Shadows

The cool of the evening had covered the miniscule human habitation quickly and completely, turning the blazing bright vistas of the desert to inky shadows that pooled under every hill and in the lee of every yurt. Inhabitants of this land had adapted to the harsh conditions and the relative lack of technological knowledge of their people by reverting to a nomadic lifestyle in this rocky wasteland, and their only homes were transient yak-hair shelters that they packed up every few weeks to move on to new lands. Grazing was sparse here, so their herds needed to move nearly constantly in order to remain fed. This area of the Trohola was less arid than most of the expanse due to some scattered sedimentary outcroppings that stuck up from the sandy plains, giving clouds something to condense around and gifting these steppes with a minute amount of rainfall and making civilized life possible. Perhaps four dozen people lived in this particular encampment, judging by the amount of tent-dwellings and his earlier observations when the light of day had brought these creatures out to work, talk, and walk about. Now, however, all was still, and the Walker in the Shadows was living up to his name.

His raiding party had lain in the cave near these people for most of the day, watching them, counting them, looking for any sign of extensive armaments or military training. All these factors were important to the Crimson Lord, for in order for the Necrons to reign supreme on this ball of rock. Unfortunately for the young creatures these hills were ancient entrances to the Tomb underneath; it underlay much of their south-eastern sea and this desert, and thus the first raiding parties dispatched by their Lords had issued forth from the winding underground grottos here. The Walker rose from his repose, creeping soundlessly forward from his hidden lair, and the Warriors of his party stalked after him, punctuated footfalls drumming the ground softly in the flawless and souless tempo of the machine. The Necrons flowed out of the dark towards the camp, Gauss weapons glowing eeriely green in the moonlight, and a dog of one of the humans yowled as it spotted them.

Hushed voices sounded in the Walker's head as he approached that tent; doubtless these pathetic younglings were arguing over who was to silence their pet. He did them the favor of doing it himself, kicking it like harshly with his living metal foot. The beast crumpled under the impact, and he could feel its bones give way under the force of his blow. Its body spun away a few feet into the gathering gloom; the sun was fully down now, and the darkness was fast spreading from its black wells under the hills to cover the land. The humans voices grew quieter as their pet's vocalizations suddenly stopped. Perhaps they sensed a wrongness in the air, but now it was far too late for them. With a wordless command the Walker in the Shadows issued a simple order to his Warriors.

Attack

The fires of Gauss weaponry flared through out the encampment, sickly green rays sycthing through the primitive tents and their denizens. Screams erupted suddenly as the people inside the dwellings awoke to find themselves under attack, husbands and sons disintegrated next to them, their walls cut open to the night and shining black-silver forms moving noiselessly towards them. The Walker wrapped his hands around his Staff, channeling his awareness into the weapon and calling forth its energies to smite down these fetid creatures. The air crackled briefly with power, and then a flash of searing white illuminated the camp. Figures, both metallic and human, were momentarily highlighted, their shadows thrown in jagged relief on the desert floor, and then a bolt leapt from the Walker's Staff. It struck a tent a few paces away, rending it from existence in an instant. Flames- white hot in their intensity- danced around the structure briefly, and then it was gone, nothing more than a smear of charcoal on the silica surface of the ground. The humans screamed all the louder as his men moved among him, killing with remorseless blasts of Gauss fire, cleansing this area of their taint.

A brief ping sounded as a bullet from a slugthrower struck the Walker's necrodermis faceplate. He turned his head slightly on its axis, dead eyes seeking for the man who had gotten his hands on a weapon. There- next to a tent in the distance- a man shot wildly at the Warrior who had just struck down a woman next to him. Her charred corpse lay under the silver figure's barrel, and small sparks glinted in the blackness as the puny human tried to assailt the nightmarish figure next to him, bullets spanging off the Warrior. The Walker channeled his thoughts again, and lightening sprang forth from his Staff, striking the figure down. It had a brief new life as a human torch, but burnt out precipitously and collapsed in a pile of charcoal and ash.

In a few brief minutes, perhaps a dozen, nothing lived in the encampment, only the Necrons, and they could no longer truly be called alive. The raiding party regrouped wordlessly around the Walker, and togther they stalked farther off into the desert, which was no resplendent in shadows. The dark loved not the living, but the Necrons were its favored friends.

[The Blazing Aura]

The small Dark Angel fleet burst into the system from the warp, they had traveled for a week to get here and now they had arrived their preparations would begin, Scanners indicated a perfect spot to build their base on this planet, an area natives called Desperation Tundra, it was a bleak place where few lived that would be easier to defend than other places on the planet. standing aboard his flagship The Bane of Traitors Interrogator Chaplain Izraphael turned to Zadakiel, Company Master of the third Company,who along with the squads of Ravenwing and Deathwing were here on two missions, though they only knew of one, the first and the widely known objective was to retake Aurora for The Emperor, the second known only to those in the Inner circle and the first two companies was to capture a Fallen who had been spotted in the area.

Zadakiel had worked with the Izraphael on many a hunt and knew the questions that were going to be asked as their ships hovered above the planet,
"Chaplain, scans show a xenos presence already on the planet surface, the Tau have a large force gathered below, also an Imperial Guard Regiment is here along with two other ships, both imperial design, one looks like a rogue trader and the other we have no record of. We have also heard Reports of a Crimson Fists force inbound as well."

"Thank you Zadakiel. we will land here in Desperation Tundra and build our base of operations there, your Company shall defend it until it is operational, the Ravenwing and some of your Tactical Squads will be sent to scout the surrounding area whilst the Deathwing will remain up here in case of any attacks"

"As the Emperor wishes" Zadakiel nodded before moving off to inform the marines.

Izraphael moved towards the Vox hoping to contact the Imperial Guard Regiment here.

[Valdehmar]

It stalked over the plains, wary of any life around it, searching through the goggles it had been gifted as a trainee. After this arduous journey, it clambered up the sheer cliffs of the eastern mountains in to a viewing position of the main Tau camp. It had seen these strange creatures before, had even fought them, but it did not know how they ticked. It knew that these xenos fought for a cause they deemed the 'Greater Good', somewhat heretical but interesting nonetheless. They had technology most men could never dream of, and it had to get some.

As it bore towards the precipice of yet anther outcrop, it took notice a lot a lone Tau sentry watching the cliffs for any signs of flanking attacks. This side had clearly been left poorly defended as a matter of principle, the xenos commanders instead deeming it more important to place the majority of their armed forces on the fronts of the plains, prepared for any attacks the Imperium might choose to throw their way. While this had been the right thing to do, they had certainly not counted on a Callidus being here, and the defence showed this. It huffed a snort of derision:

"What fools, not preparing even for a small attack."

It drew one of the many syringes of polymorphine from it's belt, infected it in to the dedicated port in the suit of it's arm, and the transformation began. It's face and physiology began to warp and morph as it took on the form of a xenos warrior, the world suddenly becoming an array of dull blues, yellows and greens; the Tau's comparatively primitive sight. It then initiated it's cloaking technology, instantly the very molecules of it's suit blending in to the backdrop.


It slid forward to within a metre of the alien, drew it's power-gladius and struck the thing in the throat, oddly coloured blood and bodily fluids squirting the assassin's way. None of the other nearby xenos had seen the attack, there had been no noise and the instant a part of Tidus's body touched it, it blended and diseapeared with it. He grunted as he dragged the short and slight yet heavy corpse up the side of the hill, disturbing various debris and alerting more of the grey-skinned beings. They converged on the area in their hundreds, scanning and flitting around in confusion and fear, but little did they know the cause of the noise was gone - gone back up in to the hillside.

As it crested the top of the mountain it layed the body down, disconnected it's cloaking and reversing the morph. It sighed as it looked at the corpse, although Tidus was an assassin, it did not appreciate the art of killing, nor take pleasure in it. The alien was oddly beautiful, it's face a pale grey hue, lacking the protrusion of an established humanoid facial structure, instead having slits where those nose commonly is, and dark pure-black eyes. It's armour was of an unidentifiable substance that heavily resembled the ceramite used by the Adeptus Astartes, but weighing virtually nothing. The corpse squelched as Tidus stuck his knife in it's gut and sliced. The thing's intestines and anatomy were a fascination to the assassin, and it spent many hours examine the pathology of the thing, mesmerised by the fact that while the thing so closely resembled a humanoid being externally, it's organs and bodily structures were completely unknown to Tidus.


It spent many hours examining the body.

[Jedi8246]

Aurora
Not a sound would be heard, nor a faintest signature on Imperial radar as a fleet emerged from the Webway. This gateway was only accessible by Eldar technology, a system of stargates that allowed one to travel through space quicker than the Warp, and without as much danger. The sudden appearance of the fleet was what allowed the Dark Eldar, space pirates, to catch any group off guard. The fleet quickly went to the planet's surface, moving quicker than any ship out there.

Upon the bridge of the command ship sat Korem, or more commonly known as the Dark Strider. He was a powerful Dark Eldar Archon, who had a reputation throughout the galaxy for being brutal, even for a Dark Eldar. His Kabal had killed and robbed thousands of Imperial settlements, leaving ruins in their wake. The Haemonculus in this Kabal were the most brutal of torturers, drawing out pain for their captives in what seemed like a millennia. Among the other Dark Eldar Kabals, the Dark Striders were feared and respected. They brought wealth to the Dark Eldar, but also were not messed with. The other Kabals who had attempted to overthrow the Dark Striders had found themselves dead rather quickly.

The Dark Strider's interests in Aurora were simple. He had heard rumors that Chaos artifacts were hidden in the ruins here, ones that might allow dominance over the Chaos Gods. This dominance would lead to the Dark Eldar holding new power, power that might allow the growing of a new empire.One reminiscent of the old Eldar. A member of the Retinue bowed before his lord.

"My Lord, our early scanners indicate the presence of Tau, Chaos Marines, as well as Imperials. We also have picked up... Necron. As well as hints of the Chaos artifacts."

Necron were ancient enemies of the Eldar. Though the Dark Eldar were offshoots from the Eldar, the hatred of the Necron was too prevalent. The Dark Strider stood.

"I'll make myself very clear. We don't want to get involved in any drawn out struggle. The rest of the fleet stands ready in the Webway, but I'd rather not call them. We will grab these artifacts and leave as fast as we can. Take no prisoners. Leave no human you see alive. The Imperials blood will drench this planet, while we leave with the wealth. Stay out of the Tau's way. The Necron scum will do battle with them."

The servants of the Dark Strider carried out his orders. The fleet landed in an isolated part of the Colombar Jungle. The trees would prove advantageous to what was essentially guerilla warfare. A scouting party sat out, searching the planet for the artifacts.

[Legital]

An alarm klaxon wailed on the bridge of the Serene Fire. It flashed red every few seconds, and it made a low, constant noise. A gruff looking man in what appeared to be an Imperial Navy uniform reached towards a small crank, and pulled it. The alarm immediately ceased. All around the bridge, crew members not at a station looked around at each other, hoping someone would point out the cause of the alarm. The gruff looking man raised his hand, and waved Raan over to him. "Shipmaster, you may want to see this." Raan was already staring at the man since the alarm caught his eye. He nodded to the man, and turned to walk down the steps that led to the bridge floor, his heavy boots thudding along as his black greatcoat fluttered behind him. Once he reached the man, he gripped the mans seat and leaned in towards the console. "Warp signatures?" He asked inquisitively, but with making it sound as if it was a statement as well. "Yes sir, quite a few actually. Im picking up what seems to be an two small Imperial fleets, along with two faint signatures. I don't want to jump to conclusions on the latter." Raan cursed. Had they stumbled upon some Imperial Crusade? No, there would be more ships. He scratched his cleanly shaved chin, thinking. "I'll inform Lord Hess. Take us in closer to Aurora, but keep us as silent as the night. I don't want us to be picked up."

"It shall be done Shipmaster." With that, Raan marched off to Hess's cabin.


Hess stared at the screen of the small handheld Cogitator, finishing up what Raan put together about Aurora, which was not much. From what Hess has gathered, Aurora was under the control of Chaos until the Imperial war machine made its way over and bludgeoned the Chaos subjects to death with sheer numbers of manpower. Thinking about that, Hess unconsciously looked at the painting Blood River. Perhaps this place was were the painting originated? That would be interesting he thought. He sighed, and placed the Cogitator on the table. He reached for the bottle of Amasec, but was interrupted by a knock at his door. Hess stood, and straightened his dark red and white greatcoat. "Enter."
Raan opened the two large doors to the cabin, and strode forwards, giving a bow once he stopped. "My Lord, we may have encountered yet another problem. We received Warp signatures of Imperial ships exiting the Warp close to Aurora, along with two unknowns." Hess frowned. This was not needed. With a heavy sigh, he answered. "Very well, I'll be taking command of the bridge now." Hess walked towards the door of his cabin, and motioned for Raan to follow. "Come." He said simply, letting Raan follow in his wake while two guards closed the door behind him.

"Shall we contact the Imperial ships my Lord?" A young man asked from his station on the bridge. Hess craned his neck from his magnificent chair to find the man; he recognized the voice, it was of one of his newest bridge crewmen, Voale. "Maintain vox silence. If anyone happens to pick us up, which I doubt, then we will break vox. And it would not be the Imperials either, their systems are too crude. Unless of course they are modified, which I doubt. We all know how the servants of the Emperor are." That drew a slight chuckle from the bridge crew. Everyone knew how stubborn Imperial Navy captains were on modifying their ships. Hess had no quell with doing it, even with Xenos technology. But such would be Heresy if he was obliged to listen to the Imperial Navy.

The Serene Fire continued closer towards Aurora.

[North Calaveras]

Aurora

The planet is question was a fringe world on the edge of Imperial space. It was inhabitated by all types of people from all corners of the galaxy. Such was it's location that no faction could maintain uncontested control. Even the xenophobic Imperium of man hadn't he man power on site to change things, they grudgingly tolerated the other races knowing one day a force would come to wipe out the heretics and xenos. In the past this planet was home to Chaos, though those days are long gone. However, Chaos still had a grip on this world during the night.

Slaanesh had his delicate hands upon this world in the form of The Tempted chaos warband. It absolutely infested the city of Trunska, a large portion of its population were Slaanesh cultists, though the city was a hive of chaos activity it was hidden beneath entertainment and whore houses. Aaeron, plaything of Slaanesh and leader of the warband had survived a devastating war on another world to become a chosen hero of the dark prince. Ever since he had entered the city of Trunska he defiled its inhabitants. Many of its citizens and it's Imperial guard were followers as well. They made sure not to draw much attention but soon they would reveal themselves and feed this world to their dark god of excess and any enemy's caught in the wave would be destroyed or perverted into dark temptation.

Aaeron lay on a massive bed in one of the underground gatherings, surrounded by naked men and women touching him, music played and the place was adorned with fine art. The finest food the planet had to offer was also brought before himself and his warriors. Corruption was rampant and he had his hand in the whole populations pockets. The place was filthy with Slaanesh's depraved touch. Aaerons eyes paced around the room slowly, his body filled with exotic drugs, the world around him moved so fast but at times it seemed as if time stood still. His hands running down his sex slaves and theirs on his smooth body.

He felt the ecstasy of the dark god within his body, biting his lip in orgasmic splendor. A prophecy of pain shot through his body and he sensed a coming storm. No doubt the Tau and the Imperials were having growing intentions. Both of them insignificant to the power of chaos. It was his hope that when the time came Slaanesh would consume this world once and for all, driving it into a abyss of ecstasy and pain.

[The Inritus Extraho]

Tombship of Phaeron Arkhan, of the 413th Tomb-world, Orbit above Aurora

Arkhan smiled. He had heard of this Tomb awakening once more, and found it to be within his sector from aeons ago. It was truly an inconveniencing event that his memory was slipping these past few years - he was having trouble remembering who had been on this planet.

No matter.

The Tombship and its accompanying six Shroud-class light cruisers were nearly at the planet. They, well, obeyed the normal laws of physics once more, slowing near-instantly and then inertia bringing them to a halt, screaming across the sky in a silver blur. Moments later, they were silent, still, hovering hundreds of thousands of miles above the planet.

Then, there were energy signatures - Gauss energy signatures - and as far as he could tell, it was a short, one-sided battle. He called quietly out to a Overlord by his side, one who had proven himself, before murmuring a few short 'words', really just orders conveyed in a more... pleasant tone. The Overlord nodded, and stalked off. Arkhan nodded happily - Overlord Sharan was on their way.

Aurora Desert

Minutes later, a trio of dark objects dropped - or rather shot - out of the sky, moving far faster than average humans could track. The first seemed to be sheathed in shadows, though this was not a property of the massive vehicle, simply of the Overlord that stood within, holding his Veil of Darkness, a precious artifact from before the Sleep.

They took note of the burned village, and slowed, skimming along, barely meters above the ground, following the slight traces, minuscule amounts of gauss flicker left in the air, quickly fading, but even more quickly catching up, until they curved, fishtailed, and then found themselves facing a unit of Necron Warriors. The three ships - the Night Scythes, only recently 'awakened' - dropped their passengers onto the sand, then shot back up into the sky.

Sharan tilted his head, thinking. A raiding party? Truly, this Tomb World was awakening slowly. How could they bear sending raiding parties, when thousands of insects crowded the skin of the Tomb? Was it damaged, lost? Had the Canopteks not done their job?

Ah, but too many questions. He checked quickly left and right - yes, his unit was in position. The twelve Lychguards screened him from the sides, six on a side, making a line at a thirty degree angle from him - those 'marines' would say on his four and eight - while the eighteen Immortals stood in a nice, tight phalanx, six wide and three thick, behind him. He gestured with his Warscythe, shadows trailing on it from the Veil.

"Who are you, to walk the Tomb, while it is not yet truly awake?"

[Danbershan]

A large number of soldiers in the service of the Tau Empire had recently claimed a huge amount of territory in eastern Aurora, in between the Trohola Desert and Damash City. Although much of the Planetary Council was up in arms at this intrusion, Minister Lornson was not going to let the situation escalate into war. However, it was hardly acceptable for the Tau Empire to seize land upon their planet without permission, or indeed warning, regardless of their fair treatment of the resident populace. To help solve this worrisome issue, an ambassador had been sent.

This man was named Delegate Chukruk, and had long been an important component of Aurora's diplomatic community. No baseline human from Terra, Chukruk was a member of a race of abhuman from the nearby world of Nrakal, a heavily forested planet. Many years ago, his ancestors had been genetically engineered as an experiment, in an attempt to create a race of human which could survive easily on the planet. This experiment was extremely succesful. In fact, after a few generations, the group rose up and drove away the explorers and scientists who were lording over them on what they saw as their planet. Since then, they had made their own destiny. The race was long arms, and short legs, ideal for swinging from tree to tree. As well as a covering of thick, oily brown hair, Chukruk, as a confident male, had a crest of brightly coloured feathers emerging from the top of his head, which rose up and down to indicate his mood. In addition to these traits, his race was naturally strong, with muscles engineered for greater ability.

He sat in a regal chair, atop wheels, and pulled along by two Yortos, a non-sapient ape species from Jahalanap. He thus moved into the Tau encampment at a rapid pace, before signalling the beasts to stop, and swinging languidly down from his chair using a bar above his seat. Approaching a group of Tau warriors who were regarding him warily, he requested an audience with their Commander.

[Al-Harbiyyah]

Imperial Guard staging ground, North-east of Trohola Desert,

Several large Imperial Transport ships landed and disembark their payload which mostly consists of Guardsmen of the Tallarn 234th and their armor. Several hours later, an Imperial Transport bearing the Lord-General Farad Al-Walid arrived on the ground and disembarked from the transport which he is greeted by an Commissar attached to the 234th.

"Lord-General, all is according to the schedule, we can expect the troop will be fully disembark in 4 Hours top." The commissar informed Lord-General Farad.

"Excellent. Now inform the techpriest to established a base. I want bunkers and Tarantula sentry guns to be readied and guarding the perimeter of this landing site." He said to the commissar.

"As you wish My Lord."

"Sir, we got a message from our ships above." Said a Guardsmen carrying a Vox.

The Lord-General looked at him while caressing the hilt of his Power Scimitar while saying, "What is it?"

"My Lord, they inform that a small Adeptus Astartes fleet arrived on Orbit." The Guardsmen informed.

Adeptus Astartes? What is their business here? Why the Adeptus Munitorum didn't informed me first hand about the Space Marines arrival? "Very well, hail the Adeptus Astartes fleet and prepare to gather the men."

"As you wish sir."

[Alowwvia]

Fort Ne'Saru, North-Central Command
2100 Hours

A throaty, coarse growl, born of annoyance and uncertainty, rumbled quietly and thoughtfully in the throat of the Tau Commander. As his fingers pressed the mangled limb of the Vespid, he could not help but notice... though there were thermal burns in many places, the wounds appeared as though cleanly cut. Absurdly so, even, as though the arm had been attached to the body one second, and then simply the shoulder had ceased to exist.

"The initial report was wrong..." He said, in a low, matter-of-fact tone. The other tau in the room, of varying caste, gave the veteran commander a questioning look. "These aren't Lasgun wound. Lasguns don't make clean cuts like these. No human weapons do," He stands up, done mulling over the half dozen or so assorted Vespid parts on the autopsy table before him. "This was not an Imperium attack. Someone else did this." He points to the wound. "Look... This arm bled out and was burned at different times... And this leg is completely charred, save for the yellow blood oozing out weakly. Human laser weapons don't cause these types of wounds, and I've seen my fair share of them up close."

The room remained silent. The commander anticipated a question the other Fire Warriors were too afraid to ask. "No more foot patrols so far from the outposts. Anything more than one-and-a-half-clicks outside of them must be Mechanized; at least 2 Devilfish in very patrol, with additional drone support. Smallest patrol outside of two-clicks can only be Battlesuit Teams with ample air-cover. We can't take risks until we know what we're dealing with here." He took the thin, plastic-like tarp at the bottom of the table, and pulled it back over the macabre assortment of body parts.

O'Waese's mind was far from cleared, however, as he turns to the anxious pathfinder beside him, and gives him the go ahead to speak. A quick salute follows.

"Sir... the drone scouts picked up the blood trail of the missing sentry at N'uja outpost..."

"And?"

"...We found his... intestines, sir. And parts of his armor. No signs of a struggle. Nobody knew what happened until he was already gone. It happened while the Battlesuit patrol was returning to the outpost in the evening."

The silence was deafening. A twinge of fear ran up the spines of the convening fire-warriors. O'Waese's nostrils flared noticeably as his deep, black eyes stared out into the wall, back teeth grind as his mind relfects in thought. "...We can't afford such lax security, anymore," He starts. "Do not start a panic, but raise the alert level. I don't want sentries anymore; I want sentry teams; at least one fire-team each. No more lone sentries or wanderers, we need everyone to keep close eyes on each-other. Understood?"

"Aye, Commander." The Pathfinder gave a salute to his commander, and rushed off to deliver the news to others. As he left, so did a pair of other minor commanders, their business concluded. Four Tau remained, still in a circle around the autopsy table, which O'Waese had been leaning over. The morgue had become his impromptu meeting, and possibly war room for the day.

"So... that leaves us with one last issue then... One of more extreme importance?"

"Yes, Commander," A 'junior' officer claims. Though he's older than O'Waese, he openly accepts his younger's superiority as a commander, and, despite whatever jealousy he may have held, cast it aside in the name of better serving the greater good. The Older officer pulled out a tablet-like device, holding it horizontal for the Tau's acting general. On it displayed a map of the region that the Tau effectively controlled. It was relatively far-away from any Imperium presence on the planet, as it should be. "...Until 2 hours ago, when several Imperium ships entered into our space. And a force, recognized as belonging to their Guard, landed North-East, in the desert. A very large force landed so soon, in such a location..."

"...There's little doubt, then, that their purpose is to strike us from the East. There's nothing else of and advantage out that way... and I'm certain they aren't here to enjoy the scenery. This is most troubling..." The Commander stood, placing his hands behind his back and holding them. "Our force is too small to engage in a prolonged slugging match with the Imperial Guard. I'd need 10 times the force I have now to conduct an actual war, and that's just for control for this segment of the region."

"Should we send a message back to the empire for a reinforcement fleet then?" One of the other Commanders ask. "The sooner we do, the better."

O'Waese could not dismiss that out of hand. If he delayed too long in calling for reinforcements, the Imperium could easily put the squeeze on his small force. On the other hand, calling them in too soon would likely be seen as an act of aggression, if not outright invasion, by the local Planetary government, which would lose the Tau all their local sympathy.

A tough choice. One to be thought over. O'Waese raised up a hand. "Not yet. I will give an official order in 12 hours. I--"

One of the sub-ordinate commanders suddenly steps forward, his face agitated and confused. "Commander O'Waese! In 12 hours that Imperium force may be burning down the walls of Fort I'uni! We MUST call for reinforcement now if we are to have the greatest chance of survival!" His plea, however, was dismissed with the shake of a hand.

"No," The Commander retained his composure, his anxiety melting into serenity as he thought. "Any realistic response would be a week away at the very least, even if the message were sent now. 12 hours is not such a great time advantage. It can, however, give us time to find a peaceful solution."

The collective soldiers of the three commanders cringed. 'Peace with the Imperium' was not exactly the most realistic goal. Most would say that when the xenophobic fascists were collecting themselves at the edge of your territory, all bets were off. Still, O'Waese remained calm. Strangely confident, even, given the circumstances. "I'm confident that if we can rally the local human populace on our behalf, it will give the Imperium pause. If we can rally the local ARMS with us, it could open the way to a negotiating table." The dim-lit room falls silent again.

"Tell the Eastern Outposts, as well as Fort I'uni, that they may requisition Battlesuit squads and armor from the inner outposts as needed. Make no noticeable build-up; but make it clear that we are strong. Make no offensive or aggressive gestures. Tell the Eastern outposts to greet the Guard with fruit and flowers if necessary; and make sure to catch that picture too. Gentletau, our main priority is hearts and minds of the Aurorans. It's a battle I think we can win. With that in mind, you are dismissed. I have a diplomat I must meet with."

The Commanders gave their salutes, and hastily left the room in the separate directions. With a relaxed composure, O'Waese did as well, making his way out of the main complex of his fortress, the Tau-base of operations. He had an Orca to catch, and didn't want to miss his flight.

----------------
Fort Y'unka, North-Western Tau Territory
2150 Hours

Two Fire-Warriors, clad in their desert-pattern armor, make a single swift and fluid motion as they step aside and throw their arms up, making a fist and then pressing it to their chests in homage as they step aside to let their Commander through. Despite the gravity of the situation, the hardened Fire-Warrior seemed to have not a care in the world, looking all smiles as he appeared in the rather luxurious conference room that the diplomat had been escorted too. Taking note of his abhuman appearance, O'Waese takes a seat opposite him at a table, at which sat several vases of human-made alcohols and chocolate sweets, which the Tau commander dearly hoped did not offend the hairy diplomat.

Giving as warm and friendly a grin as he can, he extends his three-fingered hand to the long-armed alien. "Greetings. I'm Commander O'Waese, acting leader of the peacekeeping force sent to this world. You must be Delegate Chukruk, then? I trust we have much to discuss!"

[G-Tech Corporation]

GridCoords F-11 SW
Timestamp 36 Hours 42 Minutes After Awakening
The Crimson Lord

The dim half-light of the Tomb wrapped around the Crimson Lord's shoulders like a cloak thrown upon one's shoulders to keep back the dark as he and the returning raiding party stalked along deeper into the planet towards the central command tomb, where the other great Lords guided the progress of the Awakening. Innumerable side passages were set in the walls, and the party passed countless thousands on their journey towards the heart of the Tomb. Some were lit by green light within, a sign of the slow stirring of consciousness in the Necrons, while others were still dark and lifeless. The architecture of these tunnels was blocky and stolid, but ornate, for they had been built in the style of the Necronytr of ages past, grand tombs to hold loved ones and children. The Crimson Lord remembered the day he first donned his living metal form, the fall of his brethren, the world before these dank corridors, but those who strode along the echoing passageway with him did not. The Thirsting Stalker's mind had been shattered upon the transference, just as all of their had, but the Crimson Lord still possessed some semblance of his mind, which was the main reason he had risen to the rank he had. His underlings could not learn, could not adapt, could not evolve new strategies to purge the galaxy of the hubris of the living. They were soulless automatons, once living beings but now reduced to the level of killing machines. While they were extraordinarily good at their calling, minds were needed to lead the engine of war, and even modestly functional minds were a sparse commodity amongst the Dynasties.

Ahead of the monotonously marching Necrons the sound of their drumming footfalls began to reverbrate differently, a deep bass done suffusing the air, and in short order they emerged from the passageways of the Tomb into its main complex. The walls fell away into an inky abyss, and the floor was barely visible even with the undying optics of the Necrons far below. Their route continued across an obsidian bridge towards a looming structure carved from the bones of Aurora itself, the central command Tomb. Multudinous pathways and arches spanned a tremendous gap about the Tomb, leading off in myriad directions out into the lesser Tombs, and on many of the paths more silver necrodermis figures could be made out glinting a pale green in the blackness. The glow came from their weapons, for all of the parties bore Gauss weapons of some form or another, the only light in the immense void but for a greater green aura that came from the Tomb itself.

A few short minutes passed as the raiding party clanked across their bridge, and then they entered the central tomb, its high archways stretching over their heads large enough for many great machines of war to issue forth. The complex was riddled with catacombs, repositiories of great Necron war leaders of the past in slumber, but its most conspicious feature was its main assembly area. It was set slightly into the ground of the Tomb, perhaps a central meter or more, and was well lit by the glow emitting from its inhabitants. Gauss weapons in their thousands suffused the assembly area, a force of Necrons of the Masheau Dynasty ready to purge the surface of the unworthy slime that called themselves sentient. The Crimson Lord nodded inwardly. His fellow Lords had not been idle while he dispatched his first scouts on to the surface of this world.

GridCoords E-10 NE
Timestamp 37 Hours 9 Minutes After Awakening
The Walker in the Shadows

The Walker strode along in the midnight gloom with his Warriors, hunting for a more appropriate concentration of the slime to erase from this world. The last village assaulted had barely been worth the time expended to kill them; that aside, one never wasted time when exterminating the lesser races. His master had commanded him to seek to the north-west for more victims- the Tomb had discovered greater numbers of the scum crawling her skin in that direction, and the Crimson Lord wished to know if they merited the name of 'foe'. He paused a moment in inquiry, his senses detecting low-flying craft approaching from the rear, and wordlessly he commanded his band to halt.

Figures dropped from the sky as the craft flew over head, and the brief silhouettes against the starlit sky betrayed their origin; they were of Necron manufacture. The shadowy beings ahead of him rose from their slightly stooped position post-drop, and he saw the thin light of Gauss gleaming in their weapons. One of the other Necrons spoke, challenging him.

"Who are you, to walk the Tomb, while it is not yet truly awake?"

The Walker in the Shadows assessed this newcomer. Immortals were at his back and he had come from the sky. The Lords had not informed him of the presence of any Tombfleet in the system; they must be new, interlopers, not of the Masheau. He must tread lightly then. The Walker stepped forward, indicating it was he that spoke.

"I am the Walker in the Shadows, Aselra of the Masheau, and I walk the Tomb as the first among many. The Tomb wakes as I walk, and I walk so it may wake, to find fields for my Lord to scythe so the Harvest may be great. Who are you to walk the Tomb, outsider?"

[The Inritus Extraho]

Overlord Sharan nodded, and placed the back end of his Warscythe back on the ground, nodding.

"I am Overlord Sharan of the 413th Tombworld of Phaeron Arkhan." he said slowly, unaccustomed to having to introduce himself - normally he just killed. "Phaeron Arkhan's memory banks are failing him now and again, these past few years, but we are fairly certain this Tomb is a part of his Sector. When we heard signal of it awakening, we came to assist in cleaning the... scum... that think to live in its skin."

He relaxed slightly, at ease now, and seeing that, so did the Immortals, each moving in perfect synchronicity to face outwards, scanning the darkness of the night for approaching forces of any kind. They were ready... and yet, Overlord Sharan had a bad feeling.

[Al-Harbiyyah]

Tallarn 234th Regiments Central Base, North-east Trohola Desert.

After establishing the foothold and also managed to land most of the forces without any opposition, the Tallarn 234th managed to built up defense network of Bunkers, Tarantula Sentry guns, trench networks and also several Flak batteries with Basilisk Cannon artillery emplacements for base defense. Though Farad is a Tallarn which their combat doctrines are always based on mobile offensive force, the experience he gained during several campaigns convinced him that defense network is important to keep them safe from any enemies, Xenos or traitor alike.

"Do we have any reply with the Astartes yet?" Lord-General Farad asks one of his Vox operator in recently built communication center.

"Not yet I'm afraid sir. We will keep contacting them until they reply." The Vox operator said to the General which in turn, nodded in satisfaction and left the communication center.

As he steps outside, a Commissar and a Lieutenant arrived to give the report as the Commissar speaks first, "Lord-General, all has been prepared. We have established defensive perimeter and also have assigned several squads for patrols. We also have sent several scout force to search any presence here."

"Well done Commissar. Now go get some rest. I doubt we'll be on the move at anytime now." He said and the Commissar saluted and head to his quarters. After the Commissar gone out of sight, he then looked back at the Lieutenant and asks, "What is your report Lieutenant?"

"Lord-General, we believe that we've detected several Xenos encampment 7 clicks from where we are. We also have a report from local human sympathizers which lives on this planet that the Planetary Governor is sympathetic to the Tau. What we should do?" Asks the Lieutenant.

With this information which honestly, shock the old Tallarnian General, thinks for bit about how he should act. If he acted by storming the Tau fortifications, it can drive them out but he must handled the local resistance who have sided with the Tau. He didn't want to waste more men on a mere insurrections after the Tau leave the planet.

"We just wait. Instead, trained the men well and maintain the equipment. We need to talk with the Adeptus Astartes when they land...unless they hailed back at us of course." Farad said as he looks towards the sandy deserts which reminds him of his home planet of Tallarn.

"This reminds us of Tallarn is it Lieutenant?" He said to the Lieutenant who in reply, only nodded at him.

[Konariona]

Hunger.
HUNGER.
The Harbinger could feel it again. Ares was ready to feed once again after gorging itself many Standard months ago on a planet known as Fwerdakken. With few defense forces, the little rocky world had not given much of a fight- no matter. What mattered was the swarm. And the swarm was ready for more food. Feed on a few more worlds, had been the hive mind's directive, and then descend upon Terra. The light.. Light that would feed all of the Hives for a very long time, resided there.

Hunger struck again. The ship wombs grew more troops and he chose a target. Many decades and centuries he had watched this world go from chaos to light- but always the forces around it were too strong to fight. The biomass from this fertile planet and her inhabitants would be considerable, however, so the Harbinger decided to send the Fleet to Auroria.

Many days passed in darkspace, but the Harbinger merely planned. The flesh-men were there in their various forms- both the hard-to-open canned ones and the far weaker and more tasty unarmored ones, as well as the bluish ones with the nasty pulse rifles, and the greenskins. Harbinger had a certain respect for the greenskin's primal rage. He would ask the Norn Queen to add that into a batch of Lictors once they had tasted of the Greenskins.
Hunger. Yes, grumbling hunger. And finally there were the metal ones. They were no fun, with their stingy rays and large pyramid zappers. They would be broken down all the same. Metal is made of the same atoms as flesh- and the swarm could use anything. While it might take some effort, the Harbinger was determined that he would leave this planet a barren wreck.

Ares arrived at the edge of the system, awaiting perhaps a response from something? And then- HUNGER. There would be no more waiting as the fleet vessels glided through space towards the little besieged planet. There was no escape now.

[The Nuclear Fist]

JUST OUTSIDE OF THE SECTOR

On the distant fringes of the solar system, a great, ramshackle fleet arrived from the Warp alongside hundreds of smaller vessels. Battleships and Battlekroozers, and many others, both Ork and looted by Orks rapidly came out of the hellish plane, forming a gargantuan conglomeration of vessels, a fleet so massive it likely dwarfed all others in this sector, at least for now. Funnily, when Warlord Urek Corpzegrinda had left the 'safety' of his world to go on this grand WAAAGH, he hadn't had half of the forces he now currently possessed. But as the WAAAGH traveled by Ork-held space, many millions of Boyz came in throngs, eager for the orgy of bloodshed and mindless violence that preoccupied the Ork psyche at any given time. Deep within the monstrous Frankenstein ship that was the Space Hulk, in what could reasonably be referred to as a command centre, Corpzegrinda sat upon a throne of looted treasures, surrounded by various totems and shrines to Gork and Mork. Before him were the scurrying crews that kept the Space Hulk up and running, drifting in and out of the Warp closer and closer to its intended destination: Aurora. In his massive hand, the one without the powerklaw, Corpzegrinda held a large, cracked tablet, something he had looted from an isolated Imperial group several years previously. The screen of the tablet displayed a flickering, holographic image of Aurora, complete with a lengthy description of the planet and its history. Corpzegrinda, one of the few 'learned' Orks in all of Orkdom, was literate, and fluent in both Imperial Gothic and Tau, the two races he most frequently came into contact with. His red eyes, pools of crimson, studied the information deeply, vague strategies forming in his Orky mind. The Warlord sat his tablet down, bored of it, and smashed a hand on the armrest of his throne, thus opening a channel and allowing him to speak to all of the Boyz across all of his ships.

"Alright, ya eaga gitz. We'z 'bout ta be dere. Ge'cha choppas ready, m'Boyz. Unkle Corpzegrinda'z gonna take ya onna little WAAAGH. . ." grumbled Urek Corpzegrinda, to the glorious symphony of Ork wardrums, chanting and various Orky roars across the whole fleet. If sound could be transmitted through space, the ears of all those in the sector would be deafened from the sheer noise. Corpzegrinda knew his second in command, a Warboss named Garnky, would take the message as a notice to speak to him. And indeed, that was the purpose of the message as much as it was to fire up his Boyz for war. He needed to converse with his most trusted general if this grand holy war was to truly result in much conquering and carnage, thus pleasing the greatest and truest of all gods: Gork, the brutally cunning, and Mork, the cunningly brutal. Urek would spread the seeds of Orkdom to this sector, and thus he, as a prophet of Gork and Mork, would spread the good word of what it means to be Orky. And if he managed to kill a few humiez and bluies and whatnot, that was more than fine with him.

[The Blazing Aura]

"Sir we're getting inbound vox from the Imperial Guard"

"Patch it through then" Izrapahel answered "This is Interrogator Chaplain Izraphael of the Dark Angels Third Company, who is you commanding officer?"

[Al-Harbiyyah]

"Sir we're getting inbound vox from the Imperial Guard"

"Patch it through then" Izrapahel answered "This is Interrogator Chaplain Izraphael of the Dark Angels Third Company, who is you commanding officer?"

Tallarn 234th Communication Center, Central Base Primus, North-east Trohola Desert.

"Finally a reply, get the General now!" One of the Vox operators said to his fellow guardsmen and the said guardsmen heads out to find the General. Several minutes later, Lord-General Farad arrived.

"Do we get who it was Corporal?" General Farad asks the operator.

"Yes sir, it was from the Dark Angels 3rd Company of the Adeptus Astartes. Lead by an Interrogator Chaplain Izraphael." The operator answered. Farad then signaled him to move and the operator complied. Farad then sat down and started answering through the Vox.

"This is Lord-General Farad Al-Walid of the Tallarn 234th Regiments of the Imperial Guard. Please state the nature of your arrival to this planet Interrogator Chaplain. If your purpose is the same, I hope both of us might working together." General Farad said and waiting for a reply.

[Legital]

The Serene Fire continued to edge closer to Aurora, maintaining vox silence and low system power to keep themselves from being caught. Then the red alarm klaxon went off again. The man at the station silenced it with a grumble, and focused on his console. "Lord Hess, we are picking up just a few Warp signatures at the edge of this sector on the passive long range scanner. I count twenty-two ships, give or take. No idea who they belong to either sir." Hess looked at Raan, who stood nearby, and then back at the man. "Do we have any size estimates based on the signatures?" The man at the console tapped away again, and then turned his head to look back at Hess. "Nothing solid my Lord. We are reading small, faint signatures, as well larger signatures." Hess rubbed his finger from the top side of his jaw, to his chin, in a gesture to indicate he was thinking. "Very well." he concluded with a simple nod of the head, completely unaware that they were picking up but the smallest fraction of the Ork fleet.

[The Blazing Aura]

"Sir we're getting inbound vox from the Imperial Guard"

"Patch it through then" Izrapahel answered "This is Interrogator Chaplain Izraphael of the Dark Angels Third Company, who is you commanding officer?"

Tallarn 234th Communication Center, Central Base Primus, North-east Trohola Desert.

"Finally a reply, get the General now!" One of the Vox operators said to his fellow guardsmen and the said guardsmen heads out to find the General. Several minutes later, Lord-General Farad arrived.

"Do we get who it was Corporal?" General Farad asks the operator.

"Yes sir, it was from the Dark Angels 3rd Company of the Adeptus Astartes. Lead by an Interrogator Chaplain Izraphael." The operator answered. Farad then signaled him to move and the operator complied. Farad then sat down and started answering through the Vox.

"This is Lord-General Farad Al-Walid of the Tallarn 234th Regiments of the Imperial Guard. Please state the nature of your arrival to this planet Interrogator Chaplain. If your purpose is the same, I hope both of us might working together." General Farad said and waiting for a reply.

"Our Purpose is to reclaim this World for The Imperium" Izraphael replied to the Lord-General, "And to cleanse this world of the foul Xenos that have arrived here as well. Though i need not remind you that I am higher in rank than you so don't think for a second you can claim control here to do so would be heresy. "

[Al-Harbiyyah]

Taken aback by the Interrogator Chaplain words, Lord-General Farad is a bit furious but he immediately calmed down and picked up the Vox to speak, "Our purpose is also the same 'Interrogator Chaplain'. We here under the order of the Adeptus Munitorum to consolidate Imperial presence and bring the His Light back to the people of Aurora." Farad said to what seemed to be an arrogant Adeptus Astartes with the rank of Interrogator Chaplain.

He then continued, "I hope we can meet each other and discuss the strategy that we should take in bringing this planet back to the Imperium fold. We shall be in contact soon if we need to. Lord-General Farad, out." and he turned off the Vox.

Farad then turned to one of the Guardsmen and said, "I want a full check of the armories inventories and also supplies. strengthen all the defenses and send some scouts to observe any Tau outpost or fortification."

The guardsman saluted and heads out of the communication center and Farad finally sighed and thought, "I need more drink."