guys I had an idea about tactics for the war with the korks. things like torpedos fired in space don't slow down, right? so can we have torpedo ships that fire thousands and millions of rounds from out of the star system itself so no danger for our ships and I am talking like about like the space between the stars? and if they are like 0.9999c they would be hard to react to and imagine if all of them were extrminatus grade torpedos we only need a few to get through. fire and forget am I right.
An Extra Primarch
- Thread starter ilbgar123
- Start date
- Location
- Here & There
Put them into whatever you like. No really at this point any bonus is icing on the cake. You could put them into Survey Rolls to avoid critical failures like finding an Ork Empire. But the randomness and critical failures are the most fun imo. It's the best thing to counter a supernaturally lucky, smart, and calculating being, rng.
That's a good idea actually. The War World may have a planetwide shield but not the rest of Warboss Cogazog's other planets. It would help to pelt them from afar and annoy him enough to attack us before he and his Armada become too much.
As for missiles we do have plans for Capacitor missiles which are stuffed with Capacitor crystals near overflowing with power. They have the ability to utterly shatter even a fortified Ork World. There's also plans for mega laser contructs to pierce that War World's shields but again, just plans. We haven't actually well wrote canon Omake's for those yet nor have we voted on them.
Last edited:
- Location
- Ohio
I could not fall asleep last night as I was writing something I am not sure is a good omake for this or not if I brush it up. It just hit me recently (in a nice way that was not like a dangerous thing). It does not have to do with anything like the crossover stuff we see tiny bits of here though.
Cortana: But what if you miss?
- Location
- Ohio
If they sense that they have not hit their target, they can either go to a list of second or tertiary ones?
Or have them instead go out as far away from anything to explode harmlessly?
A Knight's Island Struggle(Canon)(+10 to roll of your choice X2)
- Location
- Here & There
First Bite Bites Back
The world of Carnauba 2 was much like other worlds before global unification with its own nations and cultures living, fighting, and trading with one another for reasons known only to themselves. These humans were once part of an advanced colony, when humanity travelled the stars as a unified whole. Those days had been forgotten to the people of this world and many others. In these lands of peace, violence and all that exists in between, all it took was one signal to show the people of Carnauba a true war.
It seemed like an innocent act at the time. Archaeologists had proof from radiological dates and artifacts that human life did not evolve naturally on their planet, but instead must have emigrated here thousands of years into the past. To call it one of the most important discoveries of their people would have been an understatement. The most powerful leaders of the world constructed massive satellites and dish receivers to send radio waves into space in hopes of making contact with other humans and possibly aliens from across the stars.
But, as with many things, the lack of gratification of making any form of contact with any races had left the people dissatisfied and the project was quietly left on the wayside. Then, decades later, they got a signal. At first it was hardly distinguishable from static. It took only a week for the noise to turn to a clear yell, and then into an indistinguishable cry for war. The first message they ever heard from beyond the stars bayed for their death, and for those more wise, might have been the last thing they'll ever hear.
What is the difference between space debris and a ship? For an Ork the answer is thrusters. Roks, hollowed out asteroids with powerful engines stuffed to the brim with greenskins drift endlessly through space until a planet is unfortunate enough to have the Orks crash land into their atmosphere.
The Rok descended into the gray sand wastes wreathed in fire so hot it turned the crater into a glass bowl. The Orks burst from their stone shelter like chicks from their eggs and beset themselves onto the nothingness that is a desert. With no one to fight other than themselves, they began their search for someone to fight to vent frustrations of staying within the confines of such a cramped living space.
Local authorities surveyed the area, and were set upon by greenskins standing head and shoulders above them riding crude vehicles. They barely had time to call for back before they were gored. Their National Guard responded, and then that nation's army, and then its navy and its airforce. For a time this nation had the situation under control. Those who were able to be evacuated were taken to safety and all efforts were directed from foreign conflicts to deal with the domestic threat. It was not to last. Within weeks the Orks had toppled the country. Orbital Satellites only found banners planted on piles of broken bones. The human skulls were enough to explain what happened to prisoners.
Other countries fought for their own survival. Within a few years the planet became a smog filled mudball painted in the blood of both friend and foe. The world was split with the Orks occupying the western hemisphere and the the natives standing their ground in the east. The sea are adrift with Ork shipwrecks circumnavigated by expert Carnauban sailors while the Orks dominated the skies with their superior firepower and near supernatural expertise of aerial combat. The ground war itself was a meatgrinder. Carnauba's Prime Meridian contains a near innumerable amount of islands separating the Orks and the Carnauban defenders. Each island was taken and retaken. Built up, torn down and built up again until everything resembled less like sand and palms and more craters and shattered concrete with their metal bars bent at sharp angles.
It seemed like the fighting would never end. The Orks were overjoyed by fighting and the Carnaubans refused to lay down and die to the invaders. Neither side could make headway. Then, another message arrived to the Eastern Carnauban receivers. Everyone in the data centers held their breath. They barely maintained their stalemate against the Orks. If another of their kind came to fight they wouldn't stand a chance. Then, the message became clear.
"This is Shi Liu Yang of the Bastion Sunseeker Fleet. Help is on the way."
For a single moment, the Orks of Carnauba 2 all felt Fear, down to their very bones as if the greatest fight of their brief lives had arrived in a basket and will never cease. Fear calmed into anticipation, then into a raging inferno of want. Want of battle. Want of loot. Want of Waagh.
Lady Brigiteau of House Felcarn lays in the cockpit of her Imperial Knight titan, and she is bored out of her skull. Due to the main battlefield being deep oceans and sandy archipelagoes all she and her mech would accomplish was pathetically sink into the waters of this world. As such she, and a small contingent force would infiltrate into the western oceans through submarines and demolish the Ork settlements while the greenskin's main forces are distracted at the Eastern Front. Once she and others destroyed sufficient emplacements for aerial support, backup forces would arrive. Annoyed by this forced period of inactivity Brigiteau activated her knight's systems and communed with the spirits, the echoes of previous pilots from times before.
Why must we debase ourselves with such cowardly tactics. We are mighty and these Orks cannot stand a match for us. Our Lady knows better than to leave use sweltering in the dark.
The Lady finds better use for us. Our doctrines praise loyalty, and loyalty to her means being loyal to her words and wishes. Besides. I have fought in the waters to slay the screeching sea beasts. It was not fun being immobilized while they tear into the armor, biting and squirming and every fang coming ever close to
Enough! You're scaring the child
"The child is in her twenties" Brigiteau interjects. "And said child is more concerned with advice of what's to come. Everything else, the purges, the duels, the occasional slaying of monsters that tower even us, nothing compares to this. I'm, excited, and dare I say in the face of my ancestors, nervous."
There is nothing to be nervous of child. We have fought alongside each other for so long. We are all one in this machine, this vessel. You and you alone have an opportunity to bring glory to our House in the field of battle across the stars, liberating the peasantry from the evil Orks and letting your superiors know that you, yes you are a warrior deserving of praise and in turn House Felcarn's name will be known through the galaxy!
Glory? The child would be lucky to survive on her own terms. In a vessel with practical strangers kneedeep in enemy territory? If I didn't know better we're sent on a suicide mission to make sure she redeemed herself from her unladylike bouts.
Oh shut it you old coot. She was merely trying to defend a friend's honor. Anyways back to tactics. Just believe in yourself, help your, equals and you shall lay waste to the Ork's miserable bases such as we had many years before. Why this isn't even the worst possible situation you could be in. For example when I was about your age me and my brothers and sisters were assigned to destroy the northern fortresses of Kesl. We couldn't believe our eyes as our foes stood guard with arrogant glares. And we stared back and said…
Brigiteau listened intently and despite some sharp remarks had enjoyed the company and advice from those before her.More importantly felt a reconnection back to her homeland. She was far, far away from home, fighting for a stronger power to save a world whose people she didn't know. Many would not even know that she played a part of their liberation save for the bored student. That didn't matter. All that did matter was that she will stand proud and prove her worth with mind and steel.
The patrolling Orks didn't know what was coming. And still hadn't even as they were shot up and cut down. But the next Orks at their gates soon knew that the one thing they feared, death, was coming, and worse death without a fight. Brigiteau controlled her Mech, the Verdant Comet as if it were her own body, expertly launching its Icarus missile salvo into one guard post while gouging another tower with its battle cannon.
Brigiteau lowered her massive chainblade and reaped a score of greenskins, trampled grots and squids and blasted apart any Killa Kan unfortunate enough to be in her warpath. More clever Orks attempted to throw melta bombs or disable the Knight's legs, but were intercepted by the Land Raider trailing far behind the Imperial Knight. The basic Ork boyz stood no chance against the firepower against both machines.
But there's always more boyz. The the anti air emplacements.were the real prize. Las guns and plasma rung from the gun ports as bolter and lascannon fire sung the doom of would be Tankbustas. Everything was going well, defenses fell under their might and their natural counters were prioritized before enough salvos launched to slow down their advance.
And then the Land Raider crew and Brigiteau met the real threat. It wasn't the dozens of young Ork boyz that the Warboss let stay put and guard while the veterans were off to fight in the front lines that was the danger, it was the lumbering hills of metal standing guard next to the anti air gun emplacements. Gorkanauts, giant suits of armor piloted by elite Orks, stood defiant against Brigiteau and her small retinue. They witnessed the carnage, and didn't mind. They wouldn't waste their time for minor casualties and any humie that died to a bunch of boyz wasn't worth their time. But this humie, and that roving box of hers had potential as a good fight. And they weren't going to let that go to waste. But, while it'ss still coming, might as well have a bit of fun at the humie's expense.
Brigiteau heard from her vox the whirring of big shootas, and notified her and her crew to hide in buildings. The whirs turned to screams as bullets of varied sizes and questionable quality rung out and tore apart the landscape. It did not matter what building was torn down in the missiles and lead, nor the Ork unfortunate enough to be in their crossfire. What did matter is if this humie was going to last beyond this little act of hazing.
And as dust of what was a block's worth of architecture settled, the Verdant Comet stood defiant with its energy shield flickering like a dying light bulb.
"The Energy Shields are inoperable but the Orks had ceased firing. Five Gorkanauts spotted and approaching. All equipped with Power Klaws capable of crushing the Verdant Comet's arms like a twig. Stubby legs and awkward locomotion indicates lesser speed and grace. Conclusion: perform hit and run maneuvers, distract them from the Land Raider and destroy them all." Brigiteau thought in an instant.
She cut the power to her failing shields and sprung into action. She ran across towards the left most Gorkanaut and sliced clean through it's right leg. Before the leftmost Gorkanaut could strike back Brigiteau fired her battle cannon point back into the Gorkanaut's face until it spasmed with explosions.
The second Gorkanaut raised it's power klaw to bash his opponent but was met with the rotation and firing of Icarus missiles blowing apart the visage of the Ork God and revealing a charred mess of a Nob.
The third Gorkanaut took advantage of his late rival's demise and made a jab with his now ammo starved big shoota. He knocked off the Icarus Missile pod like a beer can and laughed before he was summarily impaled on the Verdant Comet's Chainblade.
The fourth Gorkanaut was blasted apart with the Verdant Comet's remaining ammo. It did not appreciate this act. Before it fell, the Nob in control swung its power klaw onto the barrel and crushed it like a roll of paper.
The final Gorkanaut stood silent against the Verdant Comet. It was unharmed in the violence while the Verdant Comet was leaking liquids from the stump where its missiles used to be and a battle cannon whose barrel was crushed to complete uselessness.
It spoke many words. Of how it was impressed that for a humie Brigiteau was able to make such a mess, of how she had made it easier for him to become a Warboss by taking out his rivals and mocking her for having a bug painted on her mech. None of it mattered to Brigiteau. It was nothing more than a brute that had no honor, no loyalty, only concerned with itself and fought for itself.
"Oi, got somethin to say humie?! Or are ya just too stunned at my greatness?!"
"All I see, is the pathetic wailings of someone too weak to take what he foolishly believes is rightfully his."
"Funny words humie. I'll try to remembah dat when I look on your lil shield on my Gorkanaut."
"If you truly believe you can get my family's crest, by all means. Take it."
The Ork Nob pushed his mech to its utter limits. All pretense of fun was replaced with a clear desire to kill an enemy that dared to halt his path to leading his own Waagh beyond this backwater world and into the stars above.
Brigiteau dodged to her right, and was punished when the Ork made a sharp turn, and grabbed hold of her damaged battle cannon with his power klaw. It would have been bad enough and Brigiteau knowing the arithmetic of battle would find it most expedient to slice off her own arm, had another problem. The belly of the Gorkanaut opened. And it revealed a small group of Tankbustas, snarling mad and stuffed inside the guts of the Gorkanaut goodness knows how long. They didn't even bother to aim when they fired their payload.
It was a flash of white, so hot it melted the pod doors revealed the remains of the mindless Tankbustas baked into the walls. The belly doors flew to the sides of the battlefield and on the ground, laid a scorched, melted mess. The colors of the Verdant Comet's livery had burnt away and inner workings were a mess. The leg chassis were gone and the face plate was nowhere to be found. The Gorkanaut laid on its side as a smoking husk. Any resemblance to its god was utterly unrecognizable.
And despite it all, the Ork Nob lived.
"Ha. Ha ha. HAHAHAHAHA! You think I dum or sumethin'! I'll tell ya Ork Nob steel skin is the Kunningnest Ork dere is! And you'z fell for da oldest trick in da buk. Surprise Orks! Even a Grot wouldn't fall for dat!"
The Ork's taunt was met with only the roars of flames.
"No, no no. You don't get to insult me and pretend you're ded. Seein as I can't see your banner anywhere, I'll settle for less. I'z got a skull to pry from you and I'z gonna see it, personally." The Ork grinned.
Ork Nob Steelskin took his time pacing to the Knight wreck, stretching his chopping arm and ready to claim his prize. It was a good fight for him, and made him use every trick he had in the book. If she had been any better it would have been the end for him. He stood atop the wreckage, ignoring the flames that licked his body as if the knight itself was trying to seek revenge of any kind, and pried the chassis open.
"And, now, I'z get to see the face of you. Cowering in fear, as I chop off ya head!" The Ork claimed in victory.
And was met with a bullet shot clean through his face.
"As my 37th ancestor said about the Siege of Kesl 'and always keeps the family heirloom on hand.'"
The Ork's body fell limp onto the ground, had the knight pilot taken notice, she might have seen an Ork Nob's look of surprise. Brigiteau fell back into her chair as the emergency systems put out the flames.
Not a second later she heard the collapse of many anti air guns collapsing in on themselves with the all too intimate sound of bomb charges.
"The Land Raider team should offer me gifts for distracting the olive rubes." Brigiteau thought. She voxed for aid and breathed a sigh of relief.
"That was, sloppy. I must do better next time."
Within a course of a week the combined forces of the Bastion Exploratory Fleet Division and the local forces were able to reclaim the planet. Knight Brigiteau of House Felcarn was commended for her contributions, and berated for the heavy damages to her Imperial Knight.
Schism(Canon)(+10 to roll of your choice)
Schism
I look at the pain my people are going through. I see it in every newscast that reports upon the Damnable Orks. Every world taken through genocide, through what your people can't even call War, only slaughter. Trillions of sapients dead. Through what are our descendants, through the Old Ones, our blessed creators.
When Bastion and Seras came, so too did the Aeldari, fallen so far. The Protoss had always heard rumors of a race more ancient then your kind. And when the Aeldari came, you learned the Truth. The Protoss are the Second Born of the Old Ones, a prototype for the Third Born, the Orks.
An idiotic, barbaric race that is, apparently, the immune system of the galaxy.
This wouldn't have been so bad if the Old Ones had remembered to install an off switch. But they didn't, and now the Orks are more rampant then ever in this galaxies history, besides the Orks own birth era.
Even now, Protoss looked at you with concern, at your rage. Noble Adun had tried to talk you out of this, this heresy. But the Protoss will only survive with change. The Golden Armada, ever victorious, for millions of years, can only go so far in the galaxy. Due to one thing.
The Khala.
The holiest thing amongst the Protoss. The thing that connects your minds, your souls with each other. So much has been accomplished with the Khala, and those that followed the Khala.
Yet.
The greatest weakness of the Ever-Victorious Golden Armada is the fact that it cannot patrol the entire galaxy. Because of the Khala. You want to change this, so the Conclave must be assembled.
…
Noble Adun looked upon you with worry. But you know, he will accept what you will do. The Conclave? No. You don't know what they will do. You stand upon a golden platform, with the ancient trees and jungle of Aiur at your back, the Conclave floating above on golden grav-platforms.
"You have called upon the Conclave, Protoss. Do not waste our time. Name yourself, and your purpose," said young Aldaris.
"I am Raszagal, and I come to make right a Wrong of the Protoss species," you said.
"What is this Wrong, noble Raszagal," asked Noble Adun, with tired eyes. He was the oldest of the Protoss, but you can feel his death approaching. You only hope it is not you that will do the deed.
You looked at the Conclave, the High Templar, beings who could wipe out civilizations with their psionic might. But that is the thing. They can only fight within the Khala. You ready yourself for sacrifice.
"It is believed that the Old Ones created the Protoss, us Second Born, as nothing but a prototype for the Orks. Damnable proof has been given to us through the First Born, the Aeldari. A peer race that controlled the galaxy, a duty that the Protoss have never wanted," you shuffle, looking down from the Conclave's eyes into the ancient engravings written into the gravity platform. A story about a duo of Protoss sacrificing themselves to make the first Holy Archon. You set yourself, knowing you will be damned. Adun looks upon you with a vague acceptance. He now Knows what you will do.
"I believe the Protoss are not the prototype for the Orks. The Old Ones did nothing without purpose, and their decisions only helped the sanctity of life. The Orks are out of control, seeking the extinction of every race not of themselves through their psionic WAAAGGGHHH energies. I believe we are the check against them."
"You are a fool Raszagal! The Orks will be silenced, as every threat to the Children of Aiur have been silenced. No matter their numbers, no matter their magics, they shall fall as all Others have against the Golden Armada," declares young Aldaris.
You see your words have had an effect. Some of the Conclave look in interest seeing truth, some in boredom, so sure of their might.
"You are a fool Aldaris, you do not know their numbers, you do not know the threat of the WAAAGGGHHH energies, a perversion of the Khala. They will drown every mortal race with numbers. Perhaps the Golden Armada shall be victorious, but our green cousins will not go gently into the Void." You will not be cowed into silence. They must know the truth.
Before young Aldaris can interrupt, Noble Adun speaks. He has divined what you will do. He looks so tired and old. You were so sorry. If only for him.
"It doesn't matter what the arguments of the Conclave have to say, Raszagal, only your will. I have seen the anger and despair among the younger Protoss, to be told that the Protoss were nothing more than a prototype to xenocide. I have walked among the Warrior Caste and heard their rage. That they cannot fight against this Green Menace, due to the fact that they cannot fight outside the Khala. As the younger races fight against this threat, what will they say of the Protoss, the Second Born? That they are cowards, never fighting where victory is not assured? That they are weak, their technologies useless against the WAAAGGGHHH?
Show us the strength you have Raszagal."
Aldaris looks around at Adun, then at the Conclave. Everyone can feel the fear you hold now. You know what you must do.
Only through sacrifice, shall you be able to fight.
The Conclave looks at you.
You bring up your right arm, activate it's psi-blade, and lower your head. Looking at the first story of the first sacrifice of the first Archon.
You bring up your left arm, to gather your psi-tendrils.
You make the cut. You have never felt such pain. And you have never felt so alone.
You look at the Conclave, and they stare back in fear and desperation. Some wondering why this Heresy? To cut yourself off from the Khala. Only Noble Adun looks with satisfaction.
You gather yourself, "I so swear, the Orks shall fall by my blade, they shall fall through shadows until they think they are lost. They shall be sent to the Void itself, to never trouble the races of this Galaxy. They shall be rendered Extinct.
This I so swear as Dark Templar."
A.N. I really like Protoss. I also cried writing this.
I look at the pain my people are going through. I see it in every newscast that reports upon the Damnable Orks. Every world taken through genocide, through what your people can't even call War, only slaughter. Trillions of sapients dead. Through what are our descendants, through the Old Ones, our blessed creators.
When Bastion and Seras came, so too did the Aeldari, fallen so far. The Protoss had always heard rumors of a race more ancient then your kind. And when the Aeldari came, you learned the Truth. The Protoss are the Second Born of the Old Ones, a prototype for the Third Born, the Orks.
An idiotic, barbaric race that is, apparently, the immune system of the galaxy.
This wouldn't have been so bad if the Old Ones had remembered to install an off switch. But they didn't, and now the Orks are more rampant then ever in this galaxies history, besides the Orks own birth era.
Even now, Protoss looked at you with concern, at your rage. Noble Adun had tried to talk you out of this, this heresy. But the Protoss will only survive with change. The Golden Armada, ever victorious, for millions of years, can only go so far in the galaxy. Due to one thing.
The Khala.
The holiest thing amongst the Protoss. The thing that connects your minds, your souls with each other. So much has been accomplished with the Khala, and those that followed the Khala.
Yet.
The greatest weakness of the Ever-Victorious Golden Armada is the fact that it cannot patrol the entire galaxy. Because of the Khala. You want to change this, so the Conclave must be assembled.
…
Noble Adun looked upon you with worry. But you know, he will accept what you will do. The Conclave? No. You don't know what they will do. You stand upon a golden platform, with the ancient trees and jungle of Aiur at your back, the Conclave floating above on golden grav-platforms.
"You have called upon the Conclave, Protoss. Do not waste our time. Name yourself, and your purpose," said young Aldaris.
"I am Raszagal, and I come to make right a Wrong of the Protoss species," you said.
"What is this Wrong, noble Raszagal," asked Noble Adun, with tired eyes. He was the oldest of the Protoss, but you can feel his death approaching. You only hope it is not you that will do the deed.
You looked at the Conclave, the High Templar, beings who could wipe out civilizations with their psionic might. But that is the thing. They can only fight within the Khala. You ready yourself for sacrifice.
"It is believed that the Old Ones created the Protoss, us Second Born, as nothing but a prototype for the Orks. Damnable proof has been given to us through the First Born, the Aeldari. A peer race that controlled the galaxy, a duty that the Protoss have never wanted," you shuffle, looking down from the Conclave's eyes into the ancient engravings written into the gravity platform. A story about a duo of Protoss sacrificing themselves to make the first Holy Archon. You set yourself, knowing you will be damned. Adun looks upon you with a vague acceptance. He now Knows what you will do.
"I believe the Protoss are not the prototype for the Orks. The Old Ones did nothing without purpose, and their decisions only helped the sanctity of life. The Orks are out of control, seeking the extinction of every race not of themselves through their psionic WAAAGGGHHH energies. I believe we are the check against them."
"You are a fool Raszagal! The Orks will be silenced, as every threat to the Children of Aiur have been silenced. No matter their numbers, no matter their magics, they shall fall as all Others have against the Golden Armada," declares young Aldaris.
You see your words have had an effect. Some of the Conclave look in interest seeing truth, some in boredom, so sure of their might.
"You are a fool Aldaris, you do not know their numbers, you do not know the threat of the WAAAGGGHHH energies, a perversion of the Khala. They will drown every mortal race with numbers. Perhaps the Golden Armada shall be victorious, but our green cousins will not go gently into the Void." You will not be cowed into silence. They must know the truth.
Before young Aldaris can interrupt, Noble Adun speaks. He has divined what you will do. He looks so tired and old. You were so sorry. If only for him.
"It doesn't matter what the arguments of the Conclave have to say, Raszagal, only your will. I have seen the anger and despair among the younger Protoss, to be told that the Protoss were nothing more than a prototype to xenocide. I have walked among the Warrior Caste and heard their rage. That they cannot fight against this Green Menace, due to the fact that they cannot fight outside the Khala. As the younger races fight against this threat, what will they say of the Protoss, the Second Born? That they are cowards, never fighting where victory is not assured? That they are weak, their technologies useless against the WAAAGGGHHH?
Show us the strength you have Raszagal."
Aldaris looks around at Adun, then at the Conclave. Everyone can feel the fear you hold now. You know what you must do.
Only through sacrifice, shall you be able to fight.
The Conclave looks at you.
You bring up your right arm, activate it's psi-blade, and lower your head. Looking at the first story of the first sacrifice of the first Archon.
You bring up your left arm, to gather your psi-tendrils.
You make the cut. You have never felt such pain. And you have never felt so alone.
You look at the Conclave, and they stare back in fear and desperation. Some wondering why this Heresy? To cut yourself off from the Khala. Only Noble Adun looks with satisfaction.
You gather yourself, "I so swear, the Orks shall fall by my blade, they shall fall through shadows until they think they are lost. They shall be sent to the Void itself, to never trouble the races of this Galaxy. They shall be rendered Extinct.
This I so swear as Dark Templar."
A.N. I really like Protoss. I also cried writing this.
Last edited:
- Location
- Wherever I feel like being
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Megatron: "You... I like you. Brother, can we keep this one?"
Optimus just puts his faceplate in his hands.
Edit: I'm more of a Terran guy, but yeah this is pretty damn cool. Hopefully with Bastion's influence and the knowledge that the Protoss aren't alone in regards to their power level, it may not devolve into all-out civil war.
Last edited:
I play Terran better than I do Protoss, but Protoss will always be my favorite. A race that believes so hard that they think lies are for younger species. Technology probably equal to or more advanced then the Eldar, slightly below Necron. A race never defeated within their homespace, except the Zerg blitz. Literally sleeping for like a million years super weapons of mass destruction.
I did also want to give an excuse for the author to introduce the Dark Templar, as their my favorite faction in Starcraft.
Last edited:
- Location
- Wherever I feel like being
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Looks like it worked, welcome to canon.
- Location
- United states of america
This is pretty good and this makes me want to see more omakes involving on integrated worlds. I kind of want to read how the world of remnant has changed with the introduction of the bastion to their society now.
- Location
- Here & There
Congratulations on being canon, and nice story about the frustrations of an individual trying to face on a crisis that literally has him cut off his ties to his people.
Also my baby Brigiteau is canon too woohoo! Time to get my sweet OC lady some better upgrades. Shame on her for losing to a surprise Orks attack. Just shameful.
No joke I would love, and I mean LOVE more omakes about life in our Bastion. We've been spending so much of our time upgrading and "fix it" that seeing how our people are affected by our actions would be so rewarding.
That being said I know absolutely nothing of RWBY so I can't really help there by providing an Omake. All I would speculate on Remnant, not that anyone should take this as CanonTM is that the reclamation of the world is particularly difficult regarding the fact that world is incredibly deadly inhospitable for megascale structures and is basically like Catachan.
Last edited:
- Location
- Peterborough, NH, USA
RWBY is a series about student Huntsman and Huntresses, the local superpowered humans of the verse. They use Aura (basically soul energy) to accomplish superhuman feats, as well as a specific ability unique to them called a Semblance that is an expression of their basic nature. This can vary from creating short-lived elemental clones to tank attacks for the user, to superspeed. It's worth noting that Semblances can evolve under extreme duress, but that's not particularly relevant at this point. Aura also seems less able to handle piercing attacks over blunt ones, and the protection appears to weaken in general as Aura is depleted, either from hits or use of Semblance.
The Grimm are a neverending black tide of unnaturally resilient creatures who emerge from a lake of black ooze, from what canon indicates, though it is unclear how many sources there are. They are attracted to negative emotions, particularly strong ones. Times of crisis have been known to bring down immense hordes of Grimm, so the four kingdoms that rule the majority of the human race do their best to maintain at least the appearance of safety. What's more, as Grimm age, they grow not only more powerful physically, but become more intelligent, with the eldest and largest specimens not even bothering to attack Hunters they can see, as they know they need merely wait for the humans to bring down an enormous horde with their negativity, and join in then.
In this verse, the highly advanced technology possessed by the fledgling pseudo-Imperium Serras controls is helping the Hunters beat them back, and plans have the Astartes of Serras Legion join in on reclamation of that world to cut their teeth and supplement the Hunters after Cogazog is dealt with. Deathworlds such as Remnant are perfect for training of Astartes, when no actual battles present themselves, and due to the Grimm's hostility, this is both.
Before Bastion forces arrived, Dust was the major equalizer other than the Hunters. Dust is a special crystal that, when activated by Aura, unleashes a wide variety of effects, generally corresponding to it's color. Of course, Dust is a finite resource, so it's priority goes to Hunters in their fight against the Grimm, but it's also used for everything from rocket fuel to power generation.
In canon, there's a set of four extremely powerful mages, Maidens corresponding to the seasons, but they probably either don't exist here, or are psyker Perpetuals who have a habit of reincarnating fairly early in a human lifespan, perhaps having something to do with their rapid rate of rebirth compared to normal Perpetuals.
The Grimm are a neverending black tide of unnaturally resilient creatures who emerge from a lake of black ooze, from what canon indicates, though it is unclear how many sources there are. They are attracted to negative emotions, particularly strong ones. Times of crisis have been known to bring down immense hordes of Grimm, so the four kingdoms that rule the majority of the human race do their best to maintain at least the appearance of safety. What's more, as Grimm age, they grow not only more powerful physically, but become more intelligent, with the eldest and largest specimens not even bothering to attack Hunters they can see, as they know they need merely wait for the humans to bring down an enormous horde with their negativity, and join in then.
In this verse, the highly advanced technology possessed by the fledgling pseudo-Imperium Serras controls is helping the Hunters beat them back, and plans have the Astartes of Serras Legion join in on reclamation of that world to cut their teeth and supplement the Hunters after Cogazog is dealt with. Deathworlds such as Remnant are perfect for training of Astartes, when no actual battles present themselves, and due to the Grimm's hostility, this is both.
Before Bastion forces arrived, Dust was the major equalizer other than the Hunters. Dust is a special crystal that, when activated by Aura, unleashes a wide variety of effects, generally corresponding to it's color. Of course, Dust is a finite resource, so it's priority goes to Hunters in their fight against the Grimm, but it's also used for everything from rocket fuel to power generation.
In canon, there's a set of four extremely powerful mages, Maidens corresponding to the seasons, but they probably either don't exist here, or are psyker Perpetuals who have a habit of reincarnating fairly early in a human lifespan, perhaps having something to do with their rapid rate of rebirth compared to normal Perpetuals.
Last edited:
Sir LagsAlot
Yandere Dice Magnet
- Location
- In the fridge
ilbgar123 nice explanation but don't forget about the reincarnation, magic and evil immortal witch lady who controls the Grimm. Wait do the Wizard, Maidens and Salem exist in canon for this quest? And are their feats just a result of them being especially powerful Psykers? Because the Wizard's ability to transfer psychic power in that case would be incredibly useful if we could teach it to others as it would allow us to proliferate psychic power far more easily through our population.
Also well your here how goes the system change and update?
Also well your here how goes the system change and update?
Last edited:
- Location
- Peterborough, NH, USA
System change is pretty much done. The problem is the update. I've been taking a little break from it, working on other projects, mostly Of Monsters, with a 16K+ update in the works there. I write 1k words a day, and I try not to go much further than that, since writing more than 5K a day tends to make me burn out for the next three days.
Sir LagsAlot
Yandere Dice Magnet
- Location
- In the fridge
Meh, don't push yourself to hard and you should be fine. Also I think I speak for all of us when I say that were all willing to wait longer so that you don't have to compromise the quality of your writing just so you can push out an update.
Good luck with the rest of the update and I'm looking forward to dragging other into helping update the spreadsheets when the system change is released.
Last edited:
- Location
- Mandaluyong City
Just thought, any chance you'd be willing to add something like Westworld to the planets?
Think of an entire planet of AI who were essentially the "toys" of some really secretly sadistic and depraved rich guys and if you watched season 2, there are possibly two misanthropic AI(one originally human, the other not)who kinda came to the conclusion humans are all bastards and don't have free will and deserve to die
Would be pretty interesting, watching them interact with humans who aren't like the pricks who went to Westworld for evil fun
Think of an entire planet of AI who were essentially the "toys" of some really secretly sadistic and depraved rich guys and if you watched season 2, there are possibly two misanthropic AI(one originally human, the other not)who kinda came to the conclusion humans are all bastards and don't have free will and deserve to die
Would be pretty interesting, watching them interact with humans who aren't like the pricks who went to Westworld for evil fun
Sir LagsAlot
Yandere Dice Magnet
- Location
- In the fridge
That planet wouldn't survive the week after it's discovery. The Mechanicus's reaction to a world like that would make the Inquisition's reaction to Holy Terra suddenly turning into another Eye of Terror or Guilliman suddenly transforming into a Daemon Prince of Chaos Undivided look petty in comparison.
- Location
- Attempting to cast animate object on a black hole.
Granting and adjusting power is already something that is being done. The main problems are finding the right people to give powers to, and taking the time to train them.
On an unrelated note, Salem as an evil Sensei would be an interesting idea. No real corruption beyond what's normal for a master of any given physic discipline, no Chaos pulling the strings, just an evil immortal sorceress who spends her time trying to kill everyone who happens to be stuck on the same rock floating through space as her.
Sir LagsAlot
Yandere Dice Magnet
- Location
- In the fridge
Yes, yes I know I've debated this before but you misunderstand how this works as far as we know currently only Serras can grant and transfer psychic power but if a lesser version of this ability was able to be learned from the Wizard then it could be proliferated to the Psykers under the Bastion's control who'd be able to transfer their psychic power to create more Psykers thus increasing the rate at which Psykers appear in the population. This would help to alleviate the problem we currently have with our transfer method with the fact only Serras can use it which vastly slows down the rate at which new Psykers can be created or empowered especially in comparison to the Bastion's over all population which is already in the trillions as the growth rate of the Psyker population would increase exponentially as each Psyker could in turn create more Psykers.
Last edited:
- Location
- Mandaluyong City
How would they react to say, said Planet still being under "control" and the human inhabitants "playing their games"?
Sir LagsAlot
Yandere Dice Magnet
- Location
- In the fridge
Even for our Mechanicus we'd still probably be holding off a full purge of the planet and at the very least all material, information and all of the memories of people pertaining to the machines would have to be vaporized along side the creator of the machines.
Also this is straight up equal to finding a civilization is actively producing and making use of the Men of Stone and that is quite literally the second worst form of heresy for the Mechanicus that is even possible to commit. So even with the potential punishments that I proposed I still think that I'm going to light and that we really wouldn't be able to stop a purge.
Last edited:
- Location
- Mandaluyong City
Oh, so no reaction on using them only "for fun" in a way that would obviously make them legitimately go crazy and start killing every human in sight? Like not even "that is the worst use for advanced technology I have ever seen". Just asking.
I thought they only cared about the men of iron and not at all about the men of stone?
Any kind of AI is heresy, except machine spirits.