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With Fire and Steel

The Universe of Warhammer 40k

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a part of With Fire and Steel, by XavierDantius32.

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XavierDantius32 holds sovereignty over The Universe of Warhammer 40k, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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The Universe of Warhammer 40k is a part of With Fire and Steel.

8 Characters Here

Big Mek Gutstompa [0] Leader of Waaagh! Gutstompa, en route to Armageddon.
Inquisitor Alexandria Hauschz [0] The Inquisitor assigned to Xandermar to combat the Chaos threat with a small unit of Knights, and her retinue.
Shas'Vre Shovan Kauyon [0] A Shas'vre from the Farsight Enclaves, Who came to scout Ceris for its potential as a new world for the Farsight Enclaves
Ifyan Nikolai Darromay [0] the commanding officer of the Valhalen 324th
Farseer Lorandril of Craftworld Ulthwe [0] : Eldar farseer overseeing strike force sent to eliminate the Catan threat.
Argax the Destroyer, Ghost of the Void [0] The Chaos Warlord in command of the Warriors of Mayhem's forces on Xandermar
Captain Galenus [0] Captain Galenus of the Ultramarines 5th Company
Lionel Xavier Gehautz [0] An Imperial Guard officer, Commander of the 501st

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Lionel stood on the crest of hill 53, pulling the magnoculars to his face he watched the devastation spreading across the city. He saw the thicket of las-weapon fire whipping from the Krieg lines and heard the thunderous roar of thousands of Cultists chanting in unison. The Cadian 501st recon had a mobile field ops post set up on Hill 53, as they prepared to advance into the city. He dropped the Magnoculars, letting them hang on their leather strap over his short leather jacket. As he walked away from the hill crest towards his officer cadre he heard the scream of Valkyrie engines as his Kasrkin teams hurtled towards the ensuing battle to provide much needed support for the enbattled Krieg troops.

He scratched the join around his augmetic arm. A sure sign of trouble to come. That itch had caused him to duck just as a Tau rail rifle round turned his commanding officer to mush. He paused to mourn the loss of a fine officer. He made a quick tour of the emplacements on the hill, pausing to share jokes and jibes with his men. He reached the forward observation position at the base of the hill as the wind began to pick up, causing the sounds of battle to carry towards the hill.

Sunggled in a camo-cape in the horseshoe of the sandbags was Varrek. Varrek had been with Lionel since the start of his career as a Leiutenant in the 501st back in the Damoclese Gulf. His face was gaunt and skeletal, the skin parchment thin, clung to the skull beneathe like wet linen. The eyes however were ice-blue containing all the warmth and compassion of an icicle. They wer the eyes of a trained marksman and they had served Varrek well. The stock of his care-worn and aged Long-Las was marked with every kill Varrek had made. At the last count, Lionel knew it to be around one hundred and fourteen.
"Seen much today, Varrek?" Lionel inquired. Varrek trained his knife-sharp blue eyes on his commanding officer. "I saw a couple of scouts a while ago, but they left without their heads. " Lionel aknowledged the sniper and then turned and walked back up the hill, to the command post to survey the latest intel on the battle.

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Kasrkin-Sergeant Erik Hanson stared at the devastaion spreading out below the Valkyrie as it swept over the Krieg battlelines. The battle had spread from the outer fringes of the hive, back into the close packed warren of streets leading up to the colossal hive tower. Flashes of crimson las fire marked the close range firefights between the Cultists and the Guardsmen. Occassionally an RPG or a burst of stubber fire would rip close to the Valkyrie causing it to jerk wildly in the air. The thrusters screamed as the pilot gunned the engines for their approach run. He checked his carapace armour and adjusted the holster for his bolt pistol on his hip.
The Valkyrie contained his ten man assult team plus Commisar Karandine and two crewmen. He swiveled his head and looked down the narrow eisle at his team. They had been together since the first founding of the 501st on Cadia over 20 years ago. They had all survived assults on Tau bunkers on Dal'yth, Blood Pact armour charges on Morlond and they were going to survive a cityfight on a backwater world in the middle of nowhe.....
The chatter of bolter fire cut through Hanson's thoughts as the door gunner unloaded the weapon into the Cultists as the Valkyrie swept low over the battle. The pilot cut in over the squads microbead link. "T-minus one minute to drop ladies." Hanson drew his bolt pistol and power sword, pulling the full-face matt green visor down over his face. the visor clicked into place and a myriad of symbols and numbers flashed up onto the back of his retina. He checked the straps and webbing on the urban grey armour and ordered his squad to their feet as the iridescent green glow of the drop light flickered on the roof hull. The chatter of the door gunners bolter and the woosh of rockets filled his hearing as he aproached the rear ramp. he quickly attached the thin drop cable to his webbing and jumped.
The world flashed past him as he slid down the drop cable, his squad behind him. The soles of his boots snapped against the conncrete street as he landed, snapping his bolt pistol up and quickly decapitating a cultist with a rapid burst. He disconnected from the drop cable and dived behind a pockmarked concrete road barrier as a support weapon in a nearby building unleashed a torrent of hard slugs in his general direction. He looked to his left, the display on the back of his retina blurring with the motion, his squad was beside him now, snapping rapid bursts of hellgun fire at the building. The support weapon continued to belch fire like some primeaval dragon, the hard rounds making a pinging noise as they ricoched off the road surface.
Quickly snapping his head above cover, Hanson spotted the support weapon in the upstairs window. "Golinski" he bellowed in his best parade ground voice. "Get the Gak-head on the stubber!" Golinski was a stocky, built like a grox. He swiftly unslung the compact rocket launcher from his shoulder and braced it against the barrier, when a lasbolt whipped from the building catching him in the throat. He toppled backwards, a smoking hole where his larynx used to be. Hanson cursed under his breath, not stopping to mourn the death of his comrade. He crawled down the length of the road barrier, his prone form chased by hard rounds and lasbolts. He wrenched the bulbous tube from Golinski's deathgrip and pointed it at the window, bracing it on his shoulder as bolts of crimson energy scorched the air around him. Hanson squeezed the trigger, sending the rocket hurtling into the apartment block in a plume of dirty grey smoke. The buildings facade exploded with a loud crump in a shower of broken shards of rock. Hanson turned away from the devastaion and directed his squad in the direction of the arch enemy troopers hurteling down the street towards the Kasrkins. Before the ionising cracks of lasfire filled the boulevard Hanson heard Karandie roar; "Kasrkins, show these heretics the God-Emperor's light!"

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#, as written by elloit
Argax laughed as the rocket tore into the Cultists, revelling in their agonised screams. This was the slaughter he had been searching for: combat against those who had defied him, when he was so close to achieving his desires. Now that he had ordered Melta Bombs to be rigged on the Necron cavern, with the intention of collapsing it and burying the damned machines, he had been able to come up to the battlefield for a little shallow leisure. He ordered another Cultist wave forward with a sweep of his fist, surpressing the Kasrkin who were daring to attack without proper support. Even as he watched, a mob of Cultists dragged another two down, hacking and stabbing with wanton abandon, only to be shot by the rest of the squad. Now it was his turn to enter the fray. Standing, he strode slowly towards them, bolt pistol barking. Another trooper was spun away, a crater blasted in his chest. Even as he walked down the road towards them, more and more Cultists were moving into the buildings on either side, flanking them. If the Kasrkin tried to fall back, they would be swarmed. The Guardsmen had noticed him now, and lasfire spat towards him. He felt a couple of impacts, but his armour was proof against those few hits, which left only tiny scorch marks and blemishes on the dark purple Power Armour. He was fast approaching the troopers now, though they were managing to stay pretty disciplined, despite the fear that he could smell pouring off them. With one powerful leap, he was among them. The first Kasrkin was crushed by his landing, his Power Armoured bulk pulverising bone. The second screamed as his Power Fist wrapped around his head, before he closed it, crumpling the man's skull. Now that he was right in their face, they were panic firing, and two of them turned to run. They were halfway down the street when a second Cultist machine gun post obliterated them in a hail of fire. He punched his Power Fist straight through the torso of the third, before throwing the wailing body into the wall of a nearby building, smearing it with gore. Turning he blocked the incming chainsword with his Power Fist, snapping the blade. By means of reply, he blasted the leg off of the final trooper with his bolt pistol. Leaning in, he tore off the dying man's helmet to stare into his eyes. "Oh, a Commissar?", he laughed cruelly, "I was expecting perhaps a useful officer, not a blind lapdog like yourself. Tell me, weakling, why are you here?" In truth he didn't care, but it was fun to watch the Commissar grit his teeth in pain.
"Go to hell, traitor." was the reply Argax received. Throwing his head back, Argax laughed even harder, the sound booming down the boulevard.
"No, fool, I have a much better plan. Instead of going to hell, I am bringing it here." He saw the horror in the Commissar's eyes as he realised what Argax was planning.
Realising the fight was over, he stood, before stamping down on the Commissar's head, flattening it and splattering his boot with brain matter. Smiling darkly to himself, he stood and walked back the way he had come, deeper into the city. Now that he was done with his little outing, he had other matters to attend to. He may not have been an Iron Warrior, but Argax knew how to defend a location such as Ceris. He was sure that other Imperial forces were already in orbit, if not on the planet itself. If they weren't now then they would be soon. It was of no concern to him, however- he only had to hold the world for a little bit longer...

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The Valhallen 324th picked their way across the rubble on the outskirts of Ceris, Las-weapons at the ready. The regiment had begun close packed along the open grassland that surrounded the hive. As the streets became more confined, the troopers had divided into 5-man fire teams, spreading out like a pool of spilled water. They had encountered little resistance, at least nothing that couldn't be stopped by a bayonet in the ribs. They now formed a loose line encircling a large portion of the western edge of the city. With armoured support they continued to advance into chaos territory.

Ifyan led his five man command squad at the head of the A company as they swept down the main boulevard, a pair of Leman Russ exterminators flanking the wide paved road. Ifyan was surprised they had got this far without meeting serious resistance. A loud roar erupted from the other end of the long boulevard, echoing off the upper storeys of the nearby buildings. Ifyan raised his left hand, fist closed, the guard signal for halt. The company snapped to a halt and quickly formed a two rank line under the swift hand signals of Ifyan. Out of the corner of his eye, Ifyan noticed his snipers slipping away to upstairs windows to work their deadly magic.

He heard the soft click as the Exterminators loaded the vast quantities of shells into their autocannons required for a normal engagement. Another roar from the end of the boulevard as a huge mass of poorly armed cultist hurtled down towards them. Ifyan hured the amplified bellow of his flag sergeant Ghorra boom across the street. "Front rank, fire at will!" One hundred lasguns opened fire in unison. A thicket of lasfire hammered down the street at the charging cultists. It was like they had run into a brick wall. The cultists in the front twisted and fell, bodies deformed by multiple las wounds. Those behind them stumbled on the corpses and fell, not to rise again as the fusillade of las fire continued. Behind the frenzied cultists were heavily armoured troopers, faces hidden behind helmets made from large animal skulls. They carried powerful semi-automatic rifles which boomed like cannons in the confined space of the street. The Exterminator tanks joined the barrage, as the first rank reloaded and the second rank took up the fire. Their twin-linked autocannons reaped a heavy toll in the armoured soldiers of the archenemy. When the last of the cultists lay broken and maimed the fire stopped. Wisps of smoke curled of weapon barrels and the moans of Valhallens unlucky enough to have taken hits. A company began to advance again, moving over the heap of dead cultists, the occasional thwap of a lasgun signifying the demise of another servant of the archenemy.

The boulevard was quiet again as A company advanced, apart from the soft padding of Valhallen boots on pavement.

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The clank of a power-armored boot hit the pod bay deck of the Honor's Fist. Another step, louder. It was Captain Galenus, leader of the fifth company of Ultramarines. He was a big man, standing a head above even his own Space Marines, and his power armor only helped to his size. Galenus, at the moment, had his helmet off to give his prebattle speech, something to encourage the men. With his helmet of, his face was visible. His head was shaved, and his facial structure was powerfully sculpted in the bones, but the most notable part of his face was his one, red bionic eye. His true eye had been taken long ago, before he had ascended to Captain.
Galenus was walking through the crowd of his men, and paused, right in the center. His hand went forward and pointed down. "Men!" Came Galenus' booming voice, to silence the small chatter of the men waiting to leave orbit. Two of his personal guardsmen, Mason and Jason, stooped for a moment to lift Galenus up, and Galenus stood upon their shoulder guards. "The imperium has sent the best it has to this backwater world. We are here to extinguish the flair of chaos, for if we leave it, it shall surely turn into a prime chaos home world. Why they chose a backwater I do not know. The first person to find that information." Galenus paused, raising his hand. "Get's a promotion on the spot." Galenus left his hand up, rather than putting it down. "I want one more thing, boys. There is a chaos leader here. If one of you brings me whoever's leading them, and alive-" Galenus paused again, raising his opposite hand. It was his own personal bolter pistol, encrusted with various beautiful gemstones. "Gets This!" He roared.
"We have the power." He thrust his left hand, the empty one, up firmly. "We have the might!" He thrust up his right hand, holding his storm bolter. "We. Have. Victory!!" He bellowed the last words, both arms still raised in the air, and thrusting upwards momentarily for the dramatic effect of his last line.
"Everyone, into the drop-pods! I Let's punch a hole in their lines." Galenus jumped down from the shoulders of his men. "Terminators, your squad and Squad eight move together to borrow into the hive. let's Move Move move move! You don't wana live forever, do ya?!"
All of the Ultramarines were scrambling to get into drop pod formation, and as they got in, they fired. There were more than enough, with the drop pods falling in clusters of empty pods do distract from possible antiartiliary from the ground. Of course, drop pods shredded on the way down, making it even more dificult to find one that actually had anyone in it.
The marines would make it to the ground almost entirely untouched, blowing a hole in the primary defensive lines of the chaos forces and heretics. The drop pods fell to the right side of the center of the field of combat, still deep inside enemy lines. Only three drop pods went askew, all together for the hive city itself. Out of those three, only two had teams in, the terminator squad and squad six. Those drop pods would blow through levels and levels of city housing, down near the bottom where they both landed on something solid enough to stop them.
In the tight grouping that they were, few if any of the crazed cultists would be able to survive in the area that the pods touched down. It was like an orbital bombardment, decimating what had to be at least a few hundred cultists. With the battle lines packed for war by the cultists, and the space marines being so much larger and taking up so much more space with their drop pods, it was evident that would take out a huge chunk of the assault. Still, fighting had to be done.
None of the drop pods opened. It was a scare tactic used by Galenus, to wait for cultists to approach the pods and attempt to rip the pods open to kill whoever was inside. That was common chaos thought, blood rage and blood drive. Once cultists began to near the drop pods once again, all the doors that actually had marines in them blew open, kicked open by the marines within for the door to go careening off and smash some horde heads. Marines piled out, most of them who had lighter weapons like bolters and storm bolters with their pistol and their melee weapon in hand, careening through the enemy. It was like an explosion, but beyond an explosion, an explosion of the deadliest warriors that the universe had to offer.
Galenus came from the center of the drop pod pattern, and so did the Ultramarine honor guard, hoisting the flag high enough that people would be able to see far into the mess. Opening the door was all that really needed to be done by Galenus, that and a singular sword-strike on some unlucky cultists who had run straight to the center and had avoided being hit by the door.
The ground was pockmarked from the drop pods, and everywhere soaked in blood. A normal man wouldn't even be able to walk across it without tripping over some remains of a deceased cultist or slipping on mlud, Galenus' name for the creation of mud by soaking dirt in blood. However the space marines faired just fine in their oversized suits of power armor. With such a hard to stand on playing field, and such powerful killers, there was really no hope for anyone within what Galenus had just claimed as headquarters. Common Lasfire didn't really damage the suits of armor, and every time a cultist with something big enough to hurt a marine began to attract attention to himself through fire, the nearby marines would take shelter behind a drop pod long enough for one of the Heavy Bolter marines to dart through crossfire and blow the head off the unlucky sucker stupid enough to threaten a marine.
The way Galenus saw it, there wasn't much of a way to return to the ship, so they didn't have an option of retreat. Packing in tightly with good defenses such as ground that was nearly impossible to walk on and a thicket of drop pod shells and fragments was good cover, and enough of which they could spread out a mere five marine squads to defend the outer perimeters. This was as good a headquarters as anywhere could be. He didn't need to worry about people surrounding him, because he already was surrounded. He was surrounded by people who as almost an entirety, didn't endanger any marines. When the ultramarines were done with this massacre, there would be one hell of a cleaning ceremony for the armor.
Using the center of the drop pod landing as a command center, Galenus called forth to squads eight and nine through the vox link. a total of thirteen men. They approached him, and he laid forth the battle plan. "Alright, ladies. This is what you've been brought here for. While we're maintaining a fortified base, you men are going to cut into the cultists and move straight to the planetary southeast. We're going to make a fortified line to the Cadian 501st. I want you to carry a message to them of where we are, and tell them that they can go home and take a nap, because daddy came to play."
Squad eights brother-captain raised his hand in salute, and nodded. "It will be done!" The marine said, before turning to the other three squads and shouting. "You heard the captain! move your asses! Someone bring me the corpse of one of those heretics, I’m gona blow my nose. Let's move move move move move!" He said, and then began to lead the troop out of the pod camp.
With two Heavy Bolter marines firing from the rear forward to take out the bigger annoyances of the chaos fanatics, and flamer wielding marine firing hot promethium out the rear back to cover their backside and to light a trail of decimation through the chaos forces, this left a grand total of ten marines to slaughter forward front. Squad eights brother-captain, wielder of the eviscerator chain sword was hacking cultists left and right as he lead in a v-pattern forward. bolter after bolter ran through the poor souls stupid enough or unlucky enough to either go willingly to the slaughter or get pushed within chain sword range. here and there one of squad 8 or 9s marines would lunge out to grab onto a marine and pull him back in, only to be shredded by a different marines chain sword or axe.

It was, in a space marines mind, poetry in motion.

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Lionel was at the chart table with the 501st's officer cadre. The chart table was a cogitation unit with a large flat screen. The screen glowed an iridecent green pulsating oddly as it refeshed the display. Light streamed in through the opening to the commad tent as a trooper pushed through his lasgun hanging from its canvas sling around his neck. The chart table shwoed the extent of the conflict around Ceris. On the west side of the hive, the Valhallen 324th had pushed the cultists back, pinning them in a brutal cityfight around the hab districts. Lionel turned from the chart table his face lit from below. "What is it trooper?" He asked. The trooper saluted and came to attention. "Sir, signal from fleetcom in orbit, they say the astartes have joined the fight in the north." Lionel turned away from the trooper and looked down at the chart table. He saw the fresh set of contact icons in the north sector of the hive. he turned back to the trooper face saturnine. "If you can, contact their commander and give him my regards." The trooper saluted again and exited the command tent, lasgun swinging about his neck.

Turning back to the assembled officers Lionel outlined his plan. "Okay, this is what we are going to do. The marines have diverted much of the arch-enemy forces away from the Krieg lines. I suggest we split the regiment." The glow of the chart table illuminated Lionel's face from below, giving his a ghostly look. "Major Alexandros will take the Valkyries and kasdrkins and provide the Valhallens with air cover. Captain Rogas will take the Tanks and five platoons to keep the heat of the krieg while they regroup. I will lead the remainder of the infantery and Vanquisher comapny to link up with our Astartes comrades and push towards the hive centre. Clear?" The officers saluted and turned to exit the tent. Lionel turned to them, bringing his had up to salute. "Gentlemen, the Emperor protects." The officers turned and left to prepare their men.

Lionl left the tent, pulling his hat over his shaven dome. Raising his hand to his ear he thumbed his micro-bead link. "Infantry platoons one through seventeen assemble on north road. Captain Erik, bring vanquisher company aswell." Cutting the link, Lionel turned and strode into his personal quaters. He grabbed his olive drab body armour and buckled it over his uniform shirt. When the armour was secure he pulled a knife from a sheath in his boot and sliced off his left sleave, revealing the gleaming chrome of his augmetic arm. He watched it for a second as he flexed the synthetic muscle, noticing the mechanics undulate with his movement. He snapped on a leather shoulder rig, which contained gleaming bolt pistol richly decorated with gilt edging. He slid extra mags into the pockets on his body armour and racked the bolt on the pistol before sliding it into the holster. On a side table by his bed lay his most prized posssesion. It was a power axe. Its blade glowed a silvery blue in the dim light, the long haft extending to end in a screaming skull on the pommel. The axe head was diamond shaped, tapering to a wicked point that could cut power armour. Lionel hefted the axe in his augmetic arm, feeling the wieght and balance of the beautiful weapon. he thumbed the activation stud, causing the blade to explode into life. A sparking golden sheen burst into existance around the diamond shaped blade, filling the gloomy tent with light. After a few practice swings lionel deactivated the blade and swung the axe into a leather holster on the back of his armour. He exited to the tent and strode across the dusty grassland to where his men were assembled.

His men were arrayed in strait colomns, two men across ten men deep. He hopped up onto the front of a Vanquisher, plucking the regimental standard from his colour sergeant as he did so. "Men of Cadia." He yelled, voice booming across the assembly. "You know why we are here. The forces of the arch-enemy drove us from our home, and they intend to do so again. We must not let that happen. You are all veterans. you have seen horrors far worse than anything these scum can throw at you. Fight hard and fight for the Emperors glory and the glory of Cadia!" He pumped the standard high into the air, holding it aloft so the glorious banner of the 501st fluttered in the breeze. The men cheered loudly and slammed their weapons onto the ground with a resounding crash. "For Cadia and the Emperor!" They cried as the engines on the tank rumbled inot life and the 501st went to war.

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Lorandril emerged on a hill a fair distance south of the fighting, too far for any of the main force to arrive, though he knew he may have to deal with an occasional scouting patrol. He had just come through the web way along with a single squad of guardians and his seer council all of them mobile so they would be certain to avoid detection. The time had not yet come for them to be known. this was where they had to wait for the ancient enemy, here is where they would rise from beneath the ground, and onto the surface of a world too torn to defend itself. fores from around the galaxy arrayed against each other, too ignorant to realize the threat that meant to undo them all. "We must be ever watchful."*he continued to watch on as he sent a single member of the guardians to the top of the hill the rest remaining just below him, the weapons on the bikes upgraded.

The two forces of the humans and The Great enemy would clash to the north, the disappearance of several of their scouting units would inevitably lead them here to the south, here where they would find the rising forces of living metal would rise to meet them. This should be the end of the ancient enemy, though The Orcs involvement, and that of the tau would tip the balance as the humans would leave to defend their territory against them, and chaos as well. It was not long before a group of five pathfinders arrived. Farseer in this world there is chaos."

"Yes, and it is we, not any other that must cripple our great foe, but to do so first they must be weakened on the third night henceforward look to the start of your home, and in that moment you will look to the sky and in its passing will find what you seek. Until then see to it that we are not caught unawares." The pathfinders departed, and did as they were told, so it came to pass that on the third night as sunset lights turned on from a nearby scout party, lights that may not have been noticed in time if not for the slight glow in the thin smoke and dust above them carried to the forest from the battle far to the north.

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#, as written by Script
"Blasted cultists."

Kayla Ardaeus, imperial guard veteran and member of Inquisitor Hauschz's retinue, spat on the corpse of the man she had slain, blood seeping from his robes, and the hole in his chest concealed within. The woman lifted her eyes from the corpse to Alexandria herself, frowning. "It's like the bastards are mocking us, sending only their weaklings to die in their droves at our feet. Even here, away from the main battle itself, we still find none but these runts. Where are their leaders, their figureheads? It's almost like there's something distracting them. What the hell are the bastards planning?"

The inquisitor chuckled dryly from her position at a nearby ridge, gazing down across the landscape towards the distant centre of conflict. "Were it easier to predict the plans of the traitors, child, we would not be in this situation at all. By their very nature, the enemy are unpredictable and irrational. There is little that should have inspired them to stake a claim on this backwater world of little importance, and yet here we stand. We cannot easily anticipate the enemy, which is why we must work to stamp them out when they do rear their putrid head." she replied, running a finger along her pistol.

Kayla sighed, folding her arms and pacing over to join the other woman. "You speak the truth, Inquisitor. I would that it were not so, but you speak the truth."

From both the women's waists came a crackling as a voice spoke out. "More cultists approaching to the West, up the trail. They seem unaware of your presence. Should I pick them off, or leave them for Vadagast, Inquisitor?"

'Vince' was crouched in a building several streets away, rifle covering the approaches to the ridge where the Inquisitor was standing. The Vindicare kept his rifle trained on the approaching men and women as he waited for Alexandria's response, expressionless beneath his mask.

Hauschz raised the radio to her mouth, eyes flickering to the small hamlet where the robed figures were small specks her vision. "They are perfectly places for Darrius' knights to take them down, Vince. I will radio the Captain and give the order."

From its position nearby, Hunter turned its gaze toward the same hamlet, optical sensors locking onto the cultists and tracking them silently. The servitor then looked to Alexandria and Kayla, questioningly. Reading its intent, Alexandria shook her head. "Vadegast can handle them, Hunter, you may remain here." she instructed, before lifting her radio once again. "Brother Captain, you have the go ahead to slay these runts in His Glorious Name."

Down in the Hamlet, Brother Captain Darrius Vadegast gave a brief affirmative response, before nodding to his men. "On my command."

The group of cultist - there was about twelve of them in total - approached the alleyways in which the Knights were concealed, oblivious to their impending fate. "Now, for the glory of the Emperor!" Darrius yelled, and the six knights burst from the exits, force weapons hefted and storm bolters unleashing fire. Four of the enemy were dropped before they even realised they were under assault, felled by the bolter fire as the others scrambled for their weaponry, to little profit. The knights closed the small distance with ease, and struck with their weapons. Body parts were scattered as the powerful blades cleaved through their bodies, felling them almost instantaneously. Darrius grunted as his halberd-like weapon thudded into the side of a cultist, slipping through her flesh with ease, and severing her torso from her hips, killing her in a moment. The skirmish was over almost before it began, the cultists dead with no injuries to the knights.

"Threat vanquished, ma'am." the Captain communicated, turning his helmeted head toward the ridge where she was standing.

The Inquisitor nodded, satisfied. "Excellent job Captain. I will be joining you shortly." she sent, before sending the instruction to Vince to meet them in the hamlet, the assassin leaving his cover silently and swiftly.

Turning to Kayla, Alexandria allowed a smile upon to her features. "Come, Kayla, Hunter. We press onwards, to the heart of this menace." she said simply, before striding towards the steep pathway that would lead them down to the hamlet.

The Guard soldier smirked, shouldering her Hellgun and walking after the Inquisitor. "Roger that, commander. Eager to see some action."

Silent, Hunter remained a few moments, casting his gaze about the clearing as if searching for something. The servitor nodded, as if satisfied, before turning to follow the two women, its weapon held ready. Always, ready.

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Shovan watched the small group of Gue'la from the nearby hilltop. He adjusted the grip on the pulse carbine and waved up the seven other shas'la skulkinkg in the grassland behind him. As a single entity they fanned out along the ridge, their pulse carbines braced int the shoulder. Shovan was shocked with the ferocity of the Silver clad Gue'la who exploded from the building, tongues of flame lashing from their primitive weapons turning the followers of the warp-gods to shreds. He turned to the fire warriors beside him. "Fire and move. Aim for the Gue'la without armour." The last of his comrades in his squad appeared at his shoulder, the long barrel of the rail rifle extending out infront of him like an extension of his body. The optic cabls snaked into ports on the side of his helmet like grass snakes.

"Send the foolish Gue'la back to their God-Emperor with their tails between their legs. Shas'la Attack!" At this last command, the fire-team opened up, the grenade launchers mounted under the pulse carbines sent photon grenades arcing down upon the metal warriors, blinding them with flashes of bright light. The shas'ui on his left fired the rail rifle, sending a bolt of shimmering blue energy down into the cluster of metal men. One of them turned at the sound of the shot, taking it full in the chest. The rail bolt hurled him back, sending his armoured form crashing through the wall of a nearby house, a smoking hole in the centre of his breastplate. The rest of the team fired upon the two Gue'la females. forcing them to duck. "Shas'la, retire. We have given them our warning." The tau melted away like smoke from the ridge, leaving the Gue'la party in dissaray

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The pathfinders donned their cameoline cloaks, heading to the top of the hill, they lay low to the ground, taking in the four scouts down below in the valley. They picked their targets, communicating without the need for words as they began taking careful aim from their concealed position. When they all had their targets picked, and sighted they opened fire, the loose psychic connection helping to group the shots closely together as the lasers shot true to their targets, they would be waiting the short time holding aim in case the targets managed to evade the shots.

Elsewhere, Lorandrill had mounted his jetbike, along with his seer council, one of the two viper squads coming along. Lorandrill would search along the courses of the possible future and find one where they intersected favorably with a small group of heretics that had set off to harvest the wood there. The vipers passed by and laid down a barrage of laser fire, each firing a scatter laser from come distance off. Lorandrill Guiding their fire, while pulling on the thread of destiny that spelled doom for the heretic supporters of the great enemy. The vipers and jetbikes souring by, far outside the effective range of the heretics weapons.

The beginning of his plan was insight as he saw the possible futures narrow as the clash of men and chaos drew nearer, more and more of the paths led for them to converge here in the forests So far all was according to plan, so far there was nothing to disrupt it, though there was more yet to happen before this plan solidified, many alternate paths in destiny were yet open.

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#, as written by elloit
Argax was not pleased. In fact, he was positively furious. Why had the Imperium responded so heavily to his presence? They had no knowledge of his task, they were not even supposed to know of his being here. He was standing in a makeshift command centre, staring at a tactica readout, which was being fed data from across the Hive as units moved, attacked, and were destroyed. "Damnation, why did our 'brothers' have to turn up here? And what is all this talk of living shadows out in the plains? I do not like the way this is going." he muttered, mostly to himself.
"It gets worse, my Lord." stated Forsk, one of his Sergeants. The Astartes was bloated with disease having devoted himself to Nurgle, and his armour was cracked in several places where it no longer fit him, his entrails and other foul liquids seeping through the holes, "There are Necrons missing from the caverns. Whole ranks of them. No-one has seen them leave, and there are now reports of living skeletons in random parts of the Hive. Coincidence? I think not."
"Throne of Skulls I do not need this right now! It is going to be hard enough to keep the lapdogs at bay!", in order to vent his frustration he swung his fist around to mash the head of a passing Cultist into the wall, leaving a boody paste of brain matter. "Very well then", he said, a little more calmly, "continue to throw the cannon fodder at them. Have the Cultists keep up a constant assault, especially on the Ultramarines. Our brothers may be able to best the Cultists, but their ammunition will not be limitless. Make sure the Cultists understand that they are trying to draw out their ammo. Tell them...tell them that whoever can bring me the heads of the most Ultramarines shall be my lieutenant." Of course, Argax would never make good on that promise, but if any of the Cultists could actually survive the assault on the Astartes' camp then he would be sure to reward them. Then, turning to Obern, the silent Tzeentchian, another of his Sergeants, he said "Have the PDF pull back deeper into the Hive, and set up a perimeter. I want those Guard regiments to go through the hell of the Warp itself before they break through." The marine nodded his understanding before striding out.
"Everybody else, we are pulling all Warriors of Mayhem forces back to the caverns. I will not have those Necrons cut off our retreat. Skorl, have your men bring the Defiler with you, and make sure it arrives unharmed."
"The God's will be done." intoned all those present before leaving the room. Argax remained, thinking about the coming days. It wouldn't be long now before the planets were aligned, and then he would have his prize. But before that, he had to remain in control. Clearly there was something else important here, too, otherwise the weakling Imperium would not have responded with such great force.
"Lord." buzzed the vox suddenly. It was the Captain of the Dark Serpent.
"What is it, Hieronymous?"
"A space hulk has just drifted in system. Sensors have confirmed it as the Desolation of Hope. The warp currents are bringing it towards us. We have a day, maybe two before it arrives in orbit."
"Well, well, well. Things are about to get much more interesting around here." With that he severed the vox link before sighing heavily. He did not need this. His plan, perfected over the years, had seemed so brilliant, though it was all starting to go wrong. Still, the space hulk was sure to distract the Imperium, and it may even be carrying more of their brethren. Argax downloaded the tactical map onto a dataslate before leaving the room, his Terminator retinue stepping forward into perfect lockstep with him as he headed towards the elevator to the lowest depths of the Hive.

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Carving through vast hosts of chaos horde flesh, squads eight and nine rammed and diced their way through the field of soon-to-be dead. Brother-Captain Jonas himself was making more gore than almost the entire rest of the team, spearheading the formation, and with the number one most lethal weapon in the pack. The crazed cultists were just that, in pure lunacy, where the few cultists smart or level headed enough to still have fear in the front were pushed forward into the meat grinder of chainswords by the cultists in the back who wanted their attempt to take out one of the legendary super soldiers of the imperium.

Waves and waves of cultist grunts fell into the Ultramarine base camp. Some of the perimeter guards that Galenus had set up from squads eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen were making jokes back and forth, the occasional banter about how if these cultists wanted to die for their lord, that the marine would be pleasured to fulfill that desire. Or something about how they had been so unable to do any damage, that a duct-taped lasgun was a weapon only a cultist pussy would be willing to hold. Soon, however, the cultists drew back, instead of attempting to flood the base-camp, the cultists held at distance, firing their ranged weapons rather than sacrificing their lives so fluently. The five base guard squads, consisting of 34 men, fired rounds out after the cultist forces. Their job had now almost seemingly turned to hunt and kill.

Galenus heard the sudden drop in the sound of chainblades. It was almost unfamiliar of the battlefield. He came over the vox-link, speaking into the units of the five guarding squads. "Ladies, I don't hear any buzzing. Why aren't you giving these cultist scum a haircut for the record books?" The return came back from brother-captain Keanu of squad eleven, the highest-ranking member of the guarding squads. "They've pulled back, sir. Still supplying fire, but they aren't in chainblade range, sir."

Captain Galenus thought to himself. This was an unusual move of cultists. Naturally an anti-imerial cultist group so pathetically under equipped as these would come rushing into the space marine camp like lambs to the slaughter. Not these. Something was up. There must be something going on, some figurehead leading these chaos swine more than just a particularly charismatic idiot with a pedestal. “Take up the dead bodies” Galenus’ response to his guarding members was. “make a wall. If they’re going to give you the space, make them regret it. I’m sending squad ten to assist.”

“Yes sir” Keanu said, and so Galenus closed that particular vox link. “You heard the captain!” Keanu barked over the vox to the rest of the men. “Get to work! Heavy Bolters sweep for cover fire, the rest of you, stack as many bodies as you can get! Go Go Go!”

Marines let lose a torrent of hellfire from the heavy bolters, enough to brutally slaughter the first row of chaos and send their bodies falling back against the cultists behind. Just as soon as that began, the members of the six marine squads not holding heavy bolters scooped as many cultist bodies as they could and threw them together to pile the cultists. Squad ten itself went deep, charging the cultist line with chainswords in hand to procure more bodies, which they in turn brought back to pile up as well. The wall of bodies was growing, and growing fast. Soon the cultists would no longer be able to bother the ultramarines with even the slightest of lasfire. Galenus’ voice came over the vox to Keanu. “I want to have one exit, and I want the direct line into base from that exit to be blocked by pods so that no weapon fire can get in without cultists knocking on our front door.”

Meanwhile, brother-captain Jonas and his two squads of marines was fairing spectacularly well. With their charging the enemy to get into the Cadian lines, they hadn’t even noticed a change in cultist behavior. So fast were the marines that the cultists couldn’t have run away if they had wanted, let alone the fact that there was a sea of other cultists clogging all escape routes. Jonas was the first one to spot the banner of the Cadian 501st, and turned to intercept. The formation didn’t even close to break, staying tight in mass slaughter. The Vanquisher tanks, being so much taller than the general crowd, would most likely notice the divide in cultist forces that was trailed by flaming bodies, both screaming and dead alike.

The two marine squads, fully cutting a path through to the Cadian 501st with minimal damage, minorly depleted ammunition and some seriously stained armor, fanned out in front and along surrounding the twenty or less infantry that were left. Twelve space marines were plenty enough to give the infantry a full surrounding cover. It was in this time that the cultists had the opportunity to back up away from the space marines, which they did, and although a bit of light weapons fire spattered the marine armor, none got through to the Cadian infantry.

Brother-captain Jonas left ranks, the two squads totaling thirteen marines, which left the twelve marines to cover-fire for the Cadian infantry. Jonas went straight through the crowd of infantry, and headed to the front-most Leman-Russ Vanquisher tank. He knocked power-armored knuckles on the side of the tank. “Your highest ranking officer, we are here to speak with the chief leader of the Cadian 501st. We carry a message.”

Squad one and squad six were the terminator squad and the marine squad sent to accompany them. It consisted of fourteen marines, eight of them terminators. This squad had been busting through hive city buildings and walls, going deeper and deeper into the city in search of whatever it was that was leading this chaos campaign. Galenus’ voice came in over the vox unit, crackly and almost out of range. “There’s someone bigger than a cultist head leading this, boys. Watch your backs.” That was all he said. Brother-captain Warren of squad ones terminators gave a nod to the rest of the men. They knew they were in for something big. They crashed through another wall, this time being one too many, and soon the building they had just gotten out of began to collapse backwards.

The building fell, a tall monstrosity of achievement compared to how low tech the backwater world was. It tilted, and began to fall, crashing through houses and buildings, and knocking over other buildings like a domino effect. It decimated almost every last cultist and chaos worshiper who had been in the southern end of the hive, and even toppled several of the taller buildings out to crush chaos forces in the main field of battle.

“Well… That’s an unexpected present. Thank the Emperor.” Came the voice of one of the marines from squad six inside the hive. Another said “May the Emperor have pity on their souls.” And so, the two squads, squad one the terminators and squad six, moved deeper, in search of whatever it was that was causing this on this planet.

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#, as written by Script
Inquisitor Alexandira Hauschz rendezvoused with her Grey Knights minutes later, her expression in a frown. "Do we know yet what attacked us, Captain?"

The Brother Captain shook his head, gesturing to the fallen knight. "Can't say for sure, ma'am, but that looks like Tau weaponry damage. Very little could penetrate power armour quite so fully as that, and Tau weaponry is amongst that which can."

"I can confirm that."

'Vince' strolled toward the group, rifle resting upon his back and bobbing as he approached. "Saw the bastards just as they were retreating. I think there's more going on here than we're aware of, Inquisitor. I've seen what look like metal skeletons in my scope more than once. Necrons."

The inquisitor cursed, casting her gaze upwards. "By the Emperor, we're going to need more forces than this. Hunter! Arrange a transport vessel for us, we shall communicate with the Ordo Xenos, and acquire additional support before we return here." she instructed. The servitor set about sending out the transmission, whilst the others present set up a perimeter.

Within a few hours, the Inquisitor and her retinue were leaving the planet, to acquire further support. It would be a lengthy process if the bureaucrats had anything to say about it, but it would be done. Hopefully, the conflict would allow them time. If not, she was confident the already present Marines could deal with it long enough for her to return...

(Apologies for below par post -- but not really very clear in the head at the moment! >< )

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The Pathfinders returned deep in the woods still. The Scout squad are dead, but troubling news we have found. The ancient enemy is returning, and nearly upon them are the forces of expansionist Tau are sitting far too close to them, and they are interfering with the forces of humans there."*he made several motions as he spoke, the communication to Lorandril. As he did he gestured, his gestured communicating the size, direction and distance of the two forces.

Lorandril nodded such forces were foreseen, and it was going to come to pass, but the rising of the necrons so close to the Tau is still a vision of great concern to me for their presence is disruptive to the balance. Things must remain carefully monitored to be certain that the forces were moving as had been forseen. The time would be soon that The first monolith would crest through the soil and they would need to be in position to draw the Tau away that the heavy metal weapons of the humans that is where the first groups must fall. We move to divert them, the cost will be there, but such is the war we are in, and such is far less important that that of our home, and the reemergence of our ancient enemies. We must go to battle for the craftworld.”*he finished the brief speech, the importance communicated in his thoughts and actions more clearly than words ever could.

He got on his jetbike as several of the council members got on theirs the guardians and shining spears taking in upon theirs as well. Lorandril shot off skimming across the forest, unafraid of the proximity of the treetops, of his isolated position near the front of his forces. He had seen what was to come and all the futures along this road the journey that he approached was not one he was eager to undertake, though it must seem that he was, for it was his duty to guide the troops. His hair held in a tight pony tail floated out behind him as he sped along the seven members of his council not far behind him, their armor shining off the setting sun. Nightfall was near, and it was in the hour of dawn that the black pyramid would rise from the earth, animated again. It gave them one night to move the forces of the tau off of where they were to draw them back, the ancient enemy was standing one more. They had arrived.

The others got into their transports and followed the army moving quickly, across the tops of the trees circling the armies as they did, two hours later, darkness had fallen in the woods not far from the Tau a small amount of fire was let loose into the terrain, along with the howl of the banshees before the force circled around waiting to spring the trap, it would need to draw the force off the objective that the super soldiers of men and the great enemy could clash freely. The lines were laid and the plan set in motion. There was no turning back.