- Pronouns
- He/Him
Revy examined the Adrathic weapon with a curious glint, making an appreciative sound as she handed it over to Fran. "Put it in a nice box and hand it to Clad for safekeeping, would you?"
A Soldier in a Wartorn Galaxy - A Warhammer 40k X Supreme Commander Quest
- Thread starter BOTcommander
- Start date
- Sci-Fi
Freudianslip
Son of a chipwich
And yet we can't plausibly have our protagonist encounter every possible thing that the readers might want to see, as it would be contrived and would make the universe seem much too small.
Same reason canon characters are kept to the bare minimum.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
This sector is already a wacky crosssection of most things you can encounter in 40k 
And when you finally do encounter something really rare or a canon character, it will be all the more special.
And when you finally do encounter something really rare or a canon character, it will be all the more special.
BoSPaladin
The Paladin
This sector is already a wacky crosssection of most things you can encounter in 40k
And when you finally do encounter something really rare or a canon character, it will be all the more special.
We have a new canon things budget? 😍
Finally. Moar than just cigarettes.
I wonder how shepherd will react to these
Adrathic Weapon - Warhammer 40k - Lexicanum
wh40k.lexicanum.com
The entire Aeon arsenal is made of weird physics weaponry, I don't think anything relatively mundane like that is gonna make Shepard pause
- Location
- yorkshire
What about the men of iron time eater
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Well, QAI and its MoI goons will show up sooner
- Location
- yorkshire
Sun snuffer ahead boys
- Pronouns
- He/Him
And I recommend not to hold up the one, folk-tale like source describing what the MoI could do as 1000% factual.
- Location
- yorkshire
But it could have some truth to it
both the Cybran and the Aeon go all in on wierd future weapons. its only the UEF that has very conventional munitions. though no doubt that 40k has some wierd weaponry, its not like Sephard is used to fighting only people with Gauss cannons.
Freudianslip
Son of a chipwich
Even the most basic engineering units in Revy's arsenal feature a molecular disintegration beam. Projectile weapons are just hard to beat in terms of cost-effectiveness.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Okay, I am sorry, writing down even heavily abrigded versions of how your chosen crusade prep options worked is for some reason draining my sanity very heavily. We'll cut that mostly, if you have questions about how it all works, you can ask me and I'll pull it out of my brain. I think I need to write WAR!!!
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
So how's the UEF liking the Imperial Trifecta of Three-tier weapons?
Are other Sisters experiencing Warp Disconnect Sickness from going through Gates?
What rudimentary customization/paint scheme shenanigans have the Sisters done with the bigger canvas that is UEF power armor?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I fear you have to elaborate on that question.
The Sister Hospitaller conducted intensive studies of Gate Sickness with the people they were legally allowed to gate: Lizzy, Sena, the handful of Stoic Heart sisters and Skitarii turned EarthCOM soldiers. Interstellar transfer requires a much heavier dose of anaesthetics and side effects include migraines, elevated blood and cranial pressure, dizziness and desorientation as well as in rare cases, temporary memory loss. The Skitarii are much less effected, Lieutenant Sena the most severe, although in her case the side effects dissappear much quicker than is the norm.
A sanctioned psyker suffered a stroke when being gated experimentally interplanetary distances in the Epstost System.
They asked really nicely and Laurent's techs squished a really small program through the QEC connection that prints their equipment with a protofab proof, black paint and puts up the symbol of the stoic heart where UEF symbols would normally be.
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Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
The categorization box of most common Imperial weapons.
There's infantry, special weapons, and heavy weapons. Bolter-Storm Bolter-Heavy Bolter, or Grenade-Grenade Launcher-Missile Launcher. Within that, you've got anti infantry like flamethrowers and the aforementioned Bolters, balanced like Plasma and Autocannons, and anti-armor like Lascannons and Meltas. Three tiers of three.
Given the UEF wanted the Imperial's best dakka, what're they liking and not liking about the weapons and their underlying technology?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I think I posted the list here before, it has not changed. EarthCOM is generally unimpressed with the Imperium's basic military aside from the logistical effort to keep it running with such a primitive military-industrial doctrine.
When I read this, I thought the dashes were separating parts of a single word. For instance, Bolter-Storm, Bolter-Heavy Bolter, Grenade-Grenade, and Launcher-Missile Launcher being single weapons.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
A lull in writing energy perfectly slides into my exam period. This is emberassing, but be patient for a while longer.
3853.02.07 | 001.M42 - The Green Tide Crashes Ashore
- Pronouns
- He/Him
"Machine spirit endure the crudeness you are subjected to", Clad sings, a note of abject disgust floating in their voice as their eyes began to flicker, still connected to the hololith console. "Transmission incoming."
A video feed window pops up in place of the system map showing only static, the meeting rooms vox speakers crackling and spasming before the signal appears to stabilize, movement appearing into the dark video feed.
"Dis fing on?", a deep, guttural voice blared out of the speakers, speaking in bored resignation, the words slurred into a parody of High Gothic. You look up, watching as something moves away from the camera, the brightness adjusting until you finally lay eyes on what can only be an Ork.
Tall, massive, with bulging muscles and popping veins that move under green skin like steel cables it shuffles backwards, raising itself up as tall as his hunched posture will allow for. A caricature of strength, bare chested, ugly scars decorating its enormous chest, its mouth twisted into a crude interpretation of a smile, interrupted by several tusks, dripping saliva. Red glints out from between its two evil eyes, nostrils trembling as the creature draws breath.
There are other Orks too, clad in what you think is pistons, pipes, hydraulics and scrap metal hammered together and painted yellow in primitive, ramshackle powered armor, the orks inside completely disappearing under the amount of strange moving, rotating and blinking contraptions strapped to them. You remain irritated for a moment, your focus remaining on the half naked ork at the middle trying to shift into the center of the broadcast, only clad in boots, pants, a massive metal belt and some sort of mechanized glove contraption on each forearm, when you realize it towers over the armored Orks by quite a bit, the others always quick on their feet to shift out of the way of what must be their leader.
Ambros fist tightens audibly, the servos in his power armor tightening, as he hisses a hateful "Greenskins" under his breath, before turning around towards one of the chapter serf aides and. "Hail the Chapter Fleet, the Forge is to prepare the machine spirits for battle with all haste!"
"Hail the Astropathic Conclave, they are to send a hymnal towards the Imperial Headquarters and Atraxis immediately!"
"General," King Balin whispers, leaning close. "The planning of this war lies within thy domain. I shall henceforth take my leave to rally the noble Knights of Tet for battle."
"Alert the PDF garrisons, order them to raise the reverse battalions and activate the orbital defense fortresses."
"Oi, listen up, you humies!", the half naked Ork bellows. "I'm Waaaghboss Killkrusha, da biggest, baddest boss in dis part o' da galaxy. After we krumped dem tasty bugs good an' proper, we got real bored. So I asked da Weirdboyz where da next biggest, loudest, nastiest fight wuz, an' dey said it wuz right 'ere!"
All the Imperials stare with resigned awe at Killkrusha as he raises some sort of massive, two handed axe over his head, alien muscles tensing in what you can only assume to be some barbaric attempt at intimidation, before he suddenly, and with surprising speed, points one finger directly at the camera.
"So now, me, Waaaghboss Killkrusha, me boyz, an' me ultra-killy KillKrush-Kroosa are headin' your way. Me got Battlewagons Stompas, Gargantz, an' Megafortrezzez inside dis beast belly wif enough dakka to shake a planet! When we get there, we's gonna have a propa scrap, an' you lot better not leave us bored, or we'll just krump ya 'arder! Dis is gonna be da best WAAAGH! ever! Get ready fer a propa roight an' propa fight!"
Killkrusha burps loudly and deeply after that, but you pay its ramblings no further attention, ordering Clad with a gesture to turn down its volume, so you don't have to listen to a second longer of the green freaks, shouting over the rising murmurs and panicked conversations going on. "Get me the long range augur readout back, Magos."
"Acknowledged", Clad beeps, the videofeed hololith being moved to the side, Killkrusha continuing its ravings in the background while you gaze at the still pixelated region of space where they presumably emerged from. "Cleaning up sensor data, performing the rite of adjustment."
"Emperor's teeth, may He preserve us", the Admiral coughs when you can finally lay eyes on the Ork fleet emerging out of the noise of data. Sensor blips for several hundred ork vessels emerge out of the data fog, all concentrated loosely around a massive asteroid. He rises to his feet. "I must prepare my vessels as well."
"Admiral Forhof, stay", you order, the tall, scarred man furrowing his brows but sitting back down again. In that moment it hits you.
Asteroid?
"That rock wasn't there before, was it?"
"Observing the Orks' weak wills and their crude displays of strength," Ambros intones with contempt, "this must be the creature's so-called KillKrush-Kroosa."
Clad makes a few beeps and boops, the hololith concentrating on the alleged asteroid, long range augur data from the planetary and spaceborn imperial assets laid over. The first scan brings the objects shape more into shape, no moon, an asteroid perhaps, roughly cone shaped with a length of 150 kilometers and a radius of 50 kilometers towards the bottom.
"General Shepard", they reply, their mechanical voice uneasy. The first high-resolution telescope image is laid atop the rough shape of the object, texturing it in a way that forms a truly bizarre image as you tilt your head sideways. It is a hive city, turned on its side, with massive, colossal engines bolted to its flanks and underside. Its surface is shoddily patched with metal sheeting, countless spires rising upward. The top spire is broken off, and the flat section is decorated with a parody face of yellow metal. "This is not merely an asteroid. The vile xenos have desecrated one of the grand monuments to Mankind's dominion and the Machine God's sacred rites of construction. They have rendered one of Canophes' Hive cities space-worthy."
"Oi, Big Mek!!!", Killkrusha shouts in the background, loud enough that whatever primitive microphone is picking up its voice it's helplessly overmodulates, the sound data anomaly briefly overpowering the discussions going on. "Smash dat big red button, right propa'!"
The deep space augur readout briefly becomes overwhelmed by an explosion of light before quickly stabilizing. It reveals the KillKrush-Kroosa trailing a dirty, bright plume several hundred kilometers long, accelerating deeper into the system and towards you. The rest of the Ork fleet flanks it on all sides in a loose, unorganized formation. The transmission continues, a chorus of hundreds, thousands, countless voices singing in sync: "'Ere we go, 'ere we go, 'ere we go across da kosmos, 'ere we go, 'ere we go..."
You brace your chin on a hand, watching a thin green line appear as the augur machine spirits extrapolate an orbital path for the ork fleet, ending right atop Epstost Major. "Chapter Master, Admiral, I do not presume your combined fleets would be able to stop this armada before these freaks make planetfall?"
"Emperor preserve me, I do not wish to imply any dereliction of duty," Forhof asserts, his demeanor resolute in his chair. "Yet, I cannot advocate such a course. It would exact a toll on our vessels and readiness that would prove... challenging to replenish."
"Augur readings indicate significant upgrades to the hive city's armament. I detect potent restored void shields, Ork force-fields, and numerous battleship-grade weapon batteries and anti-orbital installations. Engaging this abominable Killkrush Kroosa directly would be highly ill-advised."
"I agree," Ambros intones gravely, his arms crossed within his power armor. "Furthermore, the doctrinal superiority of your Legio Auto Militia, which you so frequently extol, necessitates the battlespace extending to our homeworld's surface, does it not?"
"At least the lower orbitals", you drum your fingers. "But the ideal battle is one we don't even need to fight. I suggest we prepare for an intense orbital-air battle, running interference before they can shuttle down troops."
Ambros chuckles softly, his cybernetic eye glinting with a red hue as it turns towards you. "A commendable suggestion, but I am certain the greenskins will endeavor to land this KillKrush-Kroosa upon our doorstep, unleashing the billions of Orks and their foul war machines within in one fell swoop."
"Very well, then," you sigh, giving up trying to question the prospect of landing something of this size, they must have gotten it into space somehow. You rub your hands together, eyes swiftly glancing down at your datapad. The report confirms Fran has been successfully evacuated from the planet. "Admiral, kindly allocate ships to tow the Quantum gate to safety. We must formulate a more comprehensive response strategy."
A video feed window pops up in place of the system map showing only static, the meeting rooms vox speakers crackling and spasming before the signal appears to stabilize, movement appearing into the dark video feed.
"Dis fing on?", a deep, guttural voice blared out of the speakers, speaking in bored resignation, the words slurred into a parody of High Gothic. You look up, watching as something moves away from the camera, the brightness adjusting until you finally lay eyes on what can only be an Ork.
Tall, massive, with bulging muscles and popping veins that move under green skin like steel cables it shuffles backwards, raising itself up as tall as his hunched posture will allow for. A caricature of strength, bare chested, ugly scars decorating its enormous chest, its mouth twisted into a crude interpretation of a smile, interrupted by several tusks, dripping saliva. Red glints out from between its two evil eyes, nostrils trembling as the creature draws breath.
There are other Orks too, clad in what you think is pistons, pipes, hydraulics and scrap metal hammered together and painted yellow in primitive, ramshackle powered armor, the orks inside completely disappearing under the amount of strange moving, rotating and blinking contraptions strapped to them. You remain irritated for a moment, your focus remaining on the half naked ork at the middle trying to shift into the center of the broadcast, only clad in boots, pants, a massive metal belt and some sort of mechanized glove contraption on each forearm, when you realize it towers over the armored Orks by quite a bit, the others always quick on their feet to shift out of the way of what must be their leader.
Ambros fist tightens audibly, the servos in his power armor tightening, as he hisses a hateful "Greenskins" under his breath, before turning around towards one of the chapter serf aides and. "Hail the Chapter Fleet, the Forge is to prepare the machine spirits for battle with all haste!"
"Hail the Astropathic Conclave, they are to send a hymnal towards the Imperial Headquarters and Atraxis immediately!"
"General," King Balin whispers, leaning close. "The planning of this war lies within thy domain. I shall henceforth take my leave to rally the noble Knights of Tet for battle."
"Alert the PDF garrisons, order them to raise the reverse battalions and activate the orbital defense fortresses."
"Oi, listen up, you humies!", the half naked Ork bellows. "I'm Waaaghboss Killkrusha, da biggest, baddest boss in dis part o' da galaxy. After we krumped dem tasty bugs good an' proper, we got real bored. So I asked da Weirdboyz where da next biggest, loudest, nastiest fight wuz, an' dey said it wuz right 'ere!"
All the Imperials stare with resigned awe at Killkrusha as he raises some sort of massive, two handed axe over his head, alien muscles tensing in what you can only assume to be some barbaric attempt at intimidation, before he suddenly, and with surprising speed, points one finger directly at the camera.
"So now, me, Waaaghboss Killkrusha, me boyz, an' me ultra-killy KillKrush-Kroosa are headin' your way. Me got Battlewagons Stompas, Gargantz, an' Megafortrezzez inside dis beast belly wif enough dakka to shake a planet! When we get there, we's gonna have a propa scrap, an' you lot better not leave us bored, or we'll just krump ya 'arder! Dis is gonna be da best WAAAGH! ever! Get ready fer a propa roight an' propa fight!"
Killkrusha burps loudly and deeply after that, but you pay its ramblings no further attention, ordering Clad with a gesture to turn down its volume, so you don't have to listen to a second longer of the green freaks, shouting over the rising murmurs and panicked conversations going on. "Get me the long range augur readout back, Magos."
"Acknowledged", Clad beeps, the videofeed hololith being moved to the side, Killkrusha continuing its ravings in the background while you gaze at the still pixelated region of space where they presumably emerged from. "Cleaning up sensor data, performing the rite of adjustment."
"Emperor's teeth, may He preserve us", the Admiral coughs when you can finally lay eyes on the Ork fleet emerging out of the noise of data. Sensor blips for several hundred ork vessels emerge out of the data fog, all concentrated loosely around a massive asteroid. He rises to his feet. "I must prepare my vessels as well."
"Admiral Forhof, stay", you order, the tall, scarred man furrowing his brows but sitting back down again. In that moment it hits you.
Asteroid?
"That rock wasn't there before, was it?"
"Observing the Orks' weak wills and their crude displays of strength," Ambros intones with contempt, "this must be the creature's so-called KillKrush-Kroosa."
Clad makes a few beeps and boops, the hololith concentrating on the alleged asteroid, long range augur data from the planetary and spaceborn imperial assets laid over. The first scan brings the objects shape more into shape, no moon, an asteroid perhaps, roughly cone shaped with a length of 150 kilometers and a radius of 50 kilometers towards the bottom.
"General Shepard", they reply, their mechanical voice uneasy. The first high-resolution telescope image is laid atop the rough shape of the object, texturing it in a way that forms a truly bizarre image as you tilt your head sideways. It is a hive city, turned on its side, with massive, colossal engines bolted to its flanks and underside. Its surface is shoddily patched with metal sheeting, countless spires rising upward. The top spire is broken off, and the flat section is decorated with a parody face of yellow metal. "This is not merely an asteroid. The vile xenos have desecrated one of the grand monuments to Mankind's dominion and the Machine God's sacred rites of construction. They have rendered one of Canophes' Hive cities space-worthy."
"Oi, Big Mek!!!", Killkrusha shouts in the background, loud enough that whatever primitive microphone is picking up its voice it's helplessly overmodulates, the sound data anomaly briefly overpowering the discussions going on. "Smash dat big red button, right propa'!"
The deep space augur readout briefly becomes overwhelmed by an explosion of light before quickly stabilizing. It reveals the KillKrush-Kroosa trailing a dirty, bright plume several hundred kilometers long, accelerating deeper into the system and towards you. The rest of the Ork fleet flanks it on all sides in a loose, unorganized formation. The transmission continues, a chorus of hundreds, thousands, countless voices singing in sync: "'Ere we go, 'ere we go, 'ere we go across da kosmos, 'ere we go, 'ere we go..."
You brace your chin on a hand, watching a thin green line appear as the augur machine spirits extrapolate an orbital path for the ork fleet, ending right atop Epstost Major. "Chapter Master, Admiral, I do not presume your combined fleets would be able to stop this armada before these freaks make planetfall?"
"Emperor preserve me, I do not wish to imply any dereliction of duty," Forhof asserts, his demeanor resolute in his chair. "Yet, I cannot advocate such a course. It would exact a toll on our vessels and readiness that would prove... challenging to replenish."
"Augur readings indicate significant upgrades to the hive city's armament. I detect potent restored void shields, Ork force-fields, and numerous battleship-grade weapon batteries and anti-orbital installations. Engaging this abominable Killkrush Kroosa directly would be highly ill-advised."
"I agree," Ambros intones gravely, his arms crossed within his power armor. "Furthermore, the doctrinal superiority of your Legio Auto Militia, which you so frequently extol, necessitates the battlespace extending to our homeworld's surface, does it not?"
"At least the lower orbitals", you drum your fingers. "But the ideal battle is one we don't even need to fight. I suggest we prepare for an intense orbital-air battle, running interference before they can shuttle down troops."
Ambros chuckles softly, his cybernetic eye glinting with a red hue as it turns towards you. "A commendable suggestion, but I am certain the greenskins will endeavor to land this KillKrush-Kroosa upon our doorstep, unleashing the billions of Orks and their foul war machines within in one fell swoop."
"Very well, then," you sigh, giving up trying to question the prospect of landing something of this size, they must have gotten it into space somehow. You rub your hands together, eyes swiftly glancing down at your datapad. The report confirms Fran has been successfully evacuated from the planet. "Admiral, kindly allocate ships to tow the Quantum gate to safety. We must formulate a more comprehensive response strategy."
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Yeah, that was absolutely inevitable. An endless ever growing metal army that fights as long as Commander is around to direct it? Orks were never going to miss it. Gork and Mork probably kicked it down the chain to make sure that Orks get in on the fun.
We have already seen that the things that actually would impress UEF are the few remnants of DAoT that Imperiim still can produce - adamantium, grav plates probably and similar stuff.
Melta is the only somewhat impressive weapon out of all of them. And only because it comes in a man portable package.
We have already seen that the things that actually would impress UEF are the few remnants of DAoT that Imperiim still can produce - adamantium, grav plates probably and similar stuff.
Actually bigger than a fair few of the moons found in the Sol system. While also being rather smaller than quite a number of asteroids in the belt.
Keep the ships safe until the scrap-hive lands, then use them to prevent orbital bombardment.
Make sure the scrap-hive does not land on or near our ACU.
Task the Knights, Sisters and various allied forces with keeping our hives safe.
Engage in a war of attrition that we will win.
This battle is a question of 'how long and at what cost' rather than 'can we prevail'.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Ah, HMKids, a classic.
I think we can afford to actually contest the landing. Ambrose is right, the Orks will try to get as close as possible so they can put their Boys into Choppa range. We will need to crash-build a considerable amount of anti-orbital guns and missiles, on top of air fields, but the more of the Ork army we destroy before it can shoot back, the easier we'll have it.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Would be kinda boring to end this big intro war with you defeating the orks before an actual big UEF vs Orks air-land battle can occur. I stacked the deck in their favor so they can actually get make planetfall. So better start planning on how to smartly engage them on the ground. 