WARHAMMER 40,000: A Thousand Tiny Suns (40k/Exalted Crossover!)

"We push for the big building! We save this big snake, we save everyone!"

"He's not a snake!" The hawk-winged, blue skinned woman snapped, then sprang forward, leaping into the air. You saw that there was one tiny problem with your plan as you, Amberly, and Kit all headed down the gangplank.

"Chip their chits!" A man with a grille for a jaw and a writhing mass of biorganic tentacles called out, thrusting his metal fingered right hand out in a dramatic point. A half a dozen emplaced...you knew they weren't firing multilas at you, but they sure felt like the barrage of several hull down Chimera as they whined and hissed overhead, streams of blue light slamming into the side of the Thunderhawk and others splattering into the scales that served as the writhing ground here. Stars wheeled by crazily overhead, giving you a gut deep sense of vertigo, even as you threw yourself flat behind a glistening pustule of gleaming steel.

"We can't advance in this!" Amberly snapped, then vanished.

"...where'd she go!?" You exclaimed.

"Doing her bullshit I suppose," Kit said, frowning. "I think- "

"Here!"

Vengeful Crystalline Hawk was no longer using Low Gothic to speak to you - you supposed it was because she had disconnected from the machine spirits of the helpful Thunderhawk. But her Old Realm wasn't so bad you could mistake the helpful note in her voice as she twirled by overhead. Her wings folded, clicked, and swung to her sides as her back opened up, revealing a complex apparatus of nozzles. From them spat five, six, ten spikes, slamming down into a geometric pattern. The tip of each spike glowed blue and lines of light flicked out - and where the lines traveled, plastecrete formed, metal and adamant plating slid into place, and within seconds a bunker had been erected that would have done a Kreiger proud.

Your grin was feral behind your mask.

"I like her," you whispered.

"Noted. I'll handle the flanks, you draw their ire," Kit said, then kissed your cheek - leaving you flushed as he turned into a sleek hawk and joined the Champion in the skies.

You sprang to your feet, grabbing scraps blown off the Thunderhawk as you leaped over a glistening vein of throbbing, coppery red rust and then landed at the entrance to the bunker. The inside was full of gears, cog wheels, and yes, what had to be a statuette of the Omnisiah, even if you had never seen this particular devotional touch. The feeling of being surrounded by faith and purity and justice against all the insanity of this new world struck you so dumb that your hands worked entirely of their own accord to turn some dozen kilos of scrap, burnt parts, and blown actuators into a heavy bolter, Kraken pattern.

You slammed it into a slot that was built for it at the firing slit - then blinked as an articulated arm unfolded, then socketed a feedline from it to a machine built into the roof of the bunker. A voice chirruped in that terrible Old Realm - but...you were beginning to get the sense that it wasn't babytalk. It was just a divergent tongue. Translating quickly, you understood.

"Ammunition Feedstock Prepared. May you Smite the Enemies of the Great Maker. In his Name. Bless."

You smiled behind your mask, worked the bolt, and then opened fire on the hideous abominations that had surged from the larger buildings and started to rush towards your thin battle-line. Streams of mass reactive shells swept back and forth over the horde. Technognostic horrors blew apart under the impact of bolt shells, and their fellows wavered, their shrieks of chaos damned devotion - cries of 'For the Violator!' and "null equals division!' breaking apart almost as rapidly as the flesh and machinery that made up their unholy bodies. You grinned...then yelped.

Because the multilas had all opened fire on the bunker at once. Strobing pulses of sickly purple and putrescent green light flickered over plastecrete and adamantine, and some flashed through your firing slit as you took cover, just like you had in creche training. Your eyes widened behind your eyeholes as you saw the impact sites on the far side of the bunker. A glistening pustule had been left behind by one. A spreading stain of rust by the other.

The beams are spreading taint! You thought, dizzy, as you scrambled up - and saw that the covering fire had let the horrors you hadn't killed come at the bunker. They scrabbled against the walls and tentacles thrust in through firing slits, bearing weapons ranging from automatic crossbows that clattered and clicked - firing off bolts that pinged and bounced off concrete and metal walls - to buzzing sawblades that flecked blood and rust everywhere as they swept around. You sprang away from your bolter, eyes widening more as you realized that the hardpoint had the advantage of letting you get close to the enemy...but now, it had trapped you.

"Need a slit trench next time, need to give her-"

Blood started to gush in through the slits. Roaring. Snapping. Hissing sounds. Then a severed head flew in through a slit.

Then, Kit peered in, smiling at you in the sudden silence. "Hey 41, you okay?"

You tried to not let all your breath out in one sigh. "Yes! Fine!" You hurried to the bolter, ducking as a lasbolt hissed overhead, nearly shooting you through the head. Kit shook his head slightly, his grin wry.

"I think this bunker has served it's purpose, don't you?" he said.

"...yeah." You snatched up your lens lance from where it floated.

"Need a lift?"

His grin was insolent. He didn't even notice how close a lasbolt came to his head, ignoring it as mossy tendrils of organic growth started to sprawl along the plastecrete near his shoulder.

You flushed, then muttered. "...yeah."

He reached in and dragged you through the firing slit - then threw you, like you were the spear. You twisted in the air, brought the lens lance around, and slammed directly into the middle of the three heavy emplacements where the horrors were firing at you. The man you impaled had spiderlike limbs attached to his back, each made of greenish brass, and his eyes widened as he looked down at the blade buried in his heart.

"Null-"

You twisted and gravitational forces blew him and half the others apart in a spray of gore. You stood, lifting your head.

"Your math is all wrong," you said, casually.

"Shoot it! Shoot the axiomatic fool!" A screeching woman shouted. You sprinted to the left, their multilas stuttering after you, sending up spurts of molten metal - you were on the building proper now - and then you ducked into the barrel of their smoking weapon, sweeping one's leg out from under them, bashing another in the head, and finally, thrusting your blade into the throat of the last one. The final multilas aimed at you...and fired a single, desperate shot.

You jerked aside a fraction of a second before it hit.

The beam whistled past, and you felt the sizzle of near corruption.

The crew of the last gun gaped at you.

Then each cried out, and fell.

Behind them, Amberly stood, smirking and twirling her laspistol as she holstered it, having shot each in the head.

"You're welcome!" she said, cheerfully.

As she did so, the Champion landed with a thump beside you. "That was amazing!" She said, cheerfully. "Are you Militat or what?"

---
What to do with Amberly
[ ] Glower at Amberly
[ ] Argue with Amberly
[ ] Kiss Amberly!?

What to do with the building
[ ] Try and repair Oberashi
[ ] Sabotage the building so it blows up, incapacitating Oberashi




Health: Fine
Anima: Dim (No effect)
Willpower: 5/5
Personal Motes: 13/13 | Peripheral Motes: 28/28 (Committed Motes: 5)
Limit: 1/10 (Trigger: Being stymied by indulges around her)
XP: 0 | Solar XP: 0
Major Projects: 0/5
SXP: 10 | GXP: 25 | WXP: 11