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Chapter 18
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Games of Invictus Chapter 19
"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
Games of Invictus Chapter 20
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
Games of Invictus Chapter 21
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
Games of Invictus Chapter 22
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
Games of Invictus Chapter 23
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
Games of Invictus Chapter 24
"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
Games of Invictus Chapter 25
"Trojan 2-1, Trojan 2-1 this is Hawk 1, Callsign Duster. Come in." Slowly he approached the Vox and picked up the horn. "This is... This is Trojan 2-1. Aye. Captain Sorte of the 122nd Guard-P*F Infantry Battalion. Are you our Navy reinforcements?" The answer seemed obvious, but Sorte had to ask to settle his confused mind. "That's affirmative! You've got eight Shuttles with Marines inbound to your location. I suggest you clear an LZ for them to land. ETA three minutes." Thank the Emperor. "Roger that Duster, can you provide Close Air Support?" Please say yes. Sorte wasn't even completely sure he'd have the wafer thin defence he did have without some kind of heavy firepower. "You've got nine fighters and seventy strikers at your disposal Captain. We'll do what we can. Better tell your guys to get real small in their holes and mark your lines. We can't see friend from foe from up here." By the Throne! This keeps getting better! "Understood. Sorte out!" he threw down the mic, and lo
Games of Invictus Chapter 26
Sorte ripple-dropped cluster-bombs above the highest concentration of enemy troops he could find. Before the traitors could react, the area was saturated with hundreds of small bomblets which exploded on impact, severing limbs and ripping apart bodies. His wingmen executed expert rocket-strikes on the lightly armored APC's. Some managed to get a few shots off with their side-mounted lasguns, before getting gutted by armour-piercing rockets exploding inside and eviscerated anything in their way. All that was left behind being scored and gored earth, punctuated only by the screams of the dying and the burning wrecks of torn up APCs. The three strikers pulled up hard to rejoin the formation above, paired with las-shots and hard-rounds from below. A stray shot managed to graze the wing of Dusters plane, but did not do any damage worth thinking about. Duster's flight barely reached formation altitude before their place was filled by two other strikers bearing down on the enemy infantry,
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