The small fleet was under way for about a week now with little sign of activity of any kind. Invictus kept up her patrols while the Cobra destroyers continuously scanned the area, feeding all ships with sensor data. Though the scope was clear, the commanders and officers were not at ease. While traveling this close to the GrailDark nebula, everyone had the feeling that they were being watched. It was almost as if the nebula itself was looking upon the five vessels as unwelcome intruders. Just before departing, the commanders of the escort vessels came aboard Invictus to plan the exact route. Again it was clear that these men were a rough bunch. Clearly they've seen a lot of bad stuff. However, Howard had them pegged from the moment they stepped aboard. Prove you can keep your word and they will follow to hell and back. For some reason, a fifth imperial figure had joined the commanders in the Situation Room. He wasn't part of the Navy, that much was clear. The man wore a black trenchc
This vessel has been shadowing us for quite some time while remaining undetected. Maybe as long as we entered this region. For all we know there could be an entire fleet out there. At this time it is imperative to reach the Orar system as soon as possible, with as many ships as possible, as Lord-Admiral Ravensburg instructed. I intend to carry out this order. If you wish to protest against my orders I suggest you take it up to him. Until then you are to prep your vessel for immediate Jump Action towards Point Bravo. Do I make myself clear?" The short silence that followed was broken with a clearly angry growl saying "Aye" before the connection was broken. Looking up he found Lieutenant Goradin staring at him as if he was nailed to the ground. The way he talked the Commissar down made him stare in disbelief. Not many officers we keep our emissions down, four days. Maybe a bit more." "Very well. Let's hope we can pass unnoticed." For the duration of his shift nothing of note happened
"One hour to jump point!" an exhausted navigator called out. "Eldar attack incoming, Port side!" the DRADIS operator shouted. "Action stations! Launch Vipers in defensive formation and give us a solid defensive screen. Force them to break off before they get too close." Goradin kept an eye on the Battery Control and slapped a few crewman awake while Howard tried to analyse the enemy attack patterns. "Oh my gods, they are focussing on the Stalker!" "Batteries seven through Fifteen, redirect your fire to cover the stalker, Now!" Shouted Goradin. The batteries turned and fired to form a defensive screen around the destroyer. It was too late. By the time the screen was formed, the Eldar had already stripped the shields from the ship. The exhausted crew couldn't get them back up in time for the next series of attacks. The next series of Pulsar blasts burnt holes through the hull of the ship and exited on the other side. Moments later the ship exploded in a bright fiery flash. "God
Slowly and gracefully the three ships joined formation with the massive supercarrier. Though the Invictus with its three kilometers length was an impressive sight for anyone to see. She was simply a speck, however, compared to the majestic might of the Twenty Kilometer long vessel. The differences didn't end there. The Invictus was mostly smooth and, aside from a few main turrets and the lines of Point-defence Guns, had a flat and sleek appearance. Ark Imperial was littered with 'small' turrets. Small being at least tens of meters high and wide which boasted multiple barrels per turret, the ventral section mounting dozens of skyscraper-sized antennae for fire direction of the vast array of weapon batteries. The entire broadsides were covered with launch bays, each as tall as city blocks, twelve double columns along each side. The launch bays were flanked by four lance turrets which were hundreds of meters long, about as many meters wide and equally high. Each turret boasting six barre
Everyone quickly got out of the way of the armed group. Every now and again one of the arms-men rudely pushed aside anyone not paying attention and standing in the way. Conduct Price wouldn't use against his own men if it wasn't absolutely necessary, unless he wished to lose the respect of his men in the long run. Five minutes later they entered a richly decorated church nave, marked Situation Room with expertly crafted golden lettering. The centre was dominated by a charting table next to an electronic one. The rear walls were lined with stained glass windows. Each window depicted what seemed ancient characters which either build a ship, fought enemies or worshipped some heavily armored man with a Halo surrounding his head. In the centre of the rear wall a giant golden statue was embedded of the same man, but this time holding out a giant sword in front of him. Closer to the exit, rows of elevated seats were placed facing the centre tables. Where applicable, some sort of green-ish el
The plan was sound. The downside was that it would depend on the loyalty of this outsider. If he could keep his word they would succeed. If he failed or decided to leave, or Throne forbid, turn against them... At best they would lose the planet. At worst he would lose some small-craft and the carrier, and having to start all over again! Then again, the man had gained the confidence of multiple fleet commanders. Even a few Admirals seemed to commend his actions. Now it would come down on a matter of trust. The very same subject they touched upon earlier. The arguing between the commanders rose in volume and pushed Byzantane out of his thoughts. Geiss didn't seem to like the plan. Too risky for so small a force. They would sure take a lot of hits. He may lose his ship. Which, given the difference in armor and shielding, was the most likely. "Enough!" Byzantane called and the voices died down. "If we wait, regaining a foothold in the system will get much harder. And in turn will incre
Picus. Another hell hole for men to fight and die in. Once a pristine agriworld, covered with trees of ripe fruits and great fields of grazing Grox and native livestock. Now a blasted wasteland in most areas. Its cities in ruin, its vast forests burning, the few pockets of those still brave enough to resist the Chaos occupation having the life choked out of them in ever shrinking territories. And this damned airfield is about the last place I wanted to die Captain Sorte thought to himself bitterly, as he clutched his Lasgun against his chest. Las bolts and solid slugs flashed and whizzed about in both directions for a while now, the occasional explosive retort of a tank or savage bark of a Heavy bolter breaking the din, but Captain Sorte knew the real assault was soon to come. And when it finally came upon them they wouldn't last long. In the past two months he saw his units numbers become fewer and fewer each day. Of his original 1000 men, barely 400 were still alive. Some of the
"Two Destroyers are approaching and you want to send marines on raptors down to the surface! Have you lost your mind!? They'll be torn apart! If not by the warships then surely by the guns on the ground!" Howard virtually roared at The Blue standing across from him. "Well Colonel I don't know if you've noticed but those surviving ground forces are not exactly having a picnic! We can't afford to delay our arrival by fighting with petty escorts! We can easily crush them and get reinforcements to the ground if you didn't have such a weak stomach for combat!" The Imperial retorted back, a savage snarl in his voice. Howard looked about ready to throttle him to death. Price looked down at his plotting table, drowning out his bickering executive officers. The bulk of the enemy fleet had been driven away, as planned, but two Iconoclast destroyers had broken past the fleet and were on their way to intercept them. He knew Howard was right, they could indeed easily destroy them without risking