AstralFists
Fan of most things Sci-Fi, probable warcriminal
- Location
- London, Great Imperium of Canada
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X]Proteus, the living moon
[X]Plan: World Burners
[X]Plan: World Burners
When I made the plan wasn't sure what shots mean and wasn't sure that canon rotary actually shoots twice, still like volkyte weaponry but Rotary canon even not against chaf still looks great so I am also voting for Plan: Wall of Bullets & Meat
Any 'relic weapons' as shown, are quickly gathered up and sent to the First Legion because they get all the fun toys.
Why is it that the first legion receive all of the best stuff even over other space marine legions?Any 'relic weapons' as shown, are quickly gathered up and sent to the First Legion because they get all the fun toys.
Why is it that the first legion receive all of the best stuff even over other space marine legions?
Personally, I think its due to them having the most combat experience of the legions during the Unification Wars, them knowing how to keep secrets, and being very stable/sane compared to the other proto legions. Looking at you proto Salamanders who would happily fall on their swords at the slightest hint of good cause. There are some good excerpts from Lord of the First explaining that the First's role was to utterly destroy something to the point it would not even be remembered and more importantly to not take glory or have their deeds known.Why is it that the first legion receive all of the best stuff even over other space marine legions?
Because they're the Legion that gets thrown at surviving Men of Iron, corrupted DAOT remnants and Rangdan-tier alien empires.Why is it that the first legion receive all of the best stuff even over other space marine legions?
Because they are the ones that get sent to fight the enemies that make Gene-Patriarchs look like regular Solar Auxilia.Why is it that the first legion receive all of the best stuff even over other space marine legions?
Fair enough, but Im getting Volkite because of its ability to stand up in melee compared to the Rotary. Plus Volkite is rad as hellWhen I made the plan wasn't sure what shots mean and wasn't sure that canon rotary actually shoots twice, still like volkyte weaponry but Rotary canon even not against chaf still looks great so I am also voting for Plan: Wall of Bullets & Meat
I want to kill a nascent Hellstar Remina and send the remains into a black hole.What is motivating all the interest in Proteus, if you don't mind me asking.
Not often you get to fight a living moon. Also, aliens for a bit of variety.What is motivating all the interest in Proteus, if you don't mind me asking.
Moons hauntedWhat is motivating all the interest in Proteus, if you don't mind me asking.
You take a piece of white cloth from your belt and offer it to the Astartes. "There's some brain left on your lips." You state matter of factly.
Khorban examines the piece of white cloth you offer him. He follows your motions and wipes his mouth with it, cleaning off the brain remnants. He then eats the handkerchief and puts his helmet back on.
There is a brief chuckle, before you quickly get everybody focused on the task at hand, trying not to feel either too amused or embarrassed about what you just did.
"Pip" stands next to you, his eyes fixed on Sergeant Khorban as the Astartes outlines his plan. The air is tense and thick with anticipation as Khorban speaks of using the Void-Sergeant's Destroyer Munitions. 'Pip' grimaces at the thought, but you can almost sense a mischievous grin beneath his mask. "Pumping the contents of Phosphex Shells through an Atmospherics station? That's quite intense, boss." The man is from the same social circles as you, although without your aspirations. You like his attitude, but not in the presence of the Astartes.
"Yes or No, Void-Sergeant?" You say in your most commanding tone. You can feel the judging eyes of the Astartes peering down at you.
Pip rubbed his chin, his brow furrowed in concentration. After a moment, he nods. "We'll put the shells on timed fuses and drop them down the vents. Simple enough. Like tossing firecrackers"
The soft drone of your vox system breaks the quiet, and Void-Sergeant Amélie Beaufort's voice reverberates in your helmet, bouncing off the icy steel. "Forces are set," she announces, a trace of eagerness lacing her words. "It's time to show these renegades some true Age of Strife weaponry." Born to Franc diplomats who negotiated our nation's surrender during the Unification Wars, Amélie was shunned from climbing the military ladder and left with no other option had to join your regiment. You trust in her dedication to the task at hand. Her ambition is a reflection of yours, a thirst for advancement that teeters on the brink of rashness.
Void Sergeant Jeanne makes her way towards you. Despite her diligent efforts, stubborn traces of dried blood remain lodged in her armour's nooks and crannies. "I am confident we can achieve this," she asserts with assurance. "The consolidated First and Third Section stands ready." Her helmet hides her face, but you believe that she'd be skeptical but trusting. "No wounded, but only because those enemy weapons don't leave anyone alive." Born in the gutter, Jeanne cares for her troops, perhaps too much to have serious hopes of advancing through the ranks. Although you are certainly trusting in her valour.
Khorban grumbles, "Be prepared for more of them. We're dealing with type-4 Mutant Techno-Warlords." There was no attempt to comfort Jeanne or offer reassurance; just blunt realism.
"Fall in. We'll burn out this den and be back aboard the Argent Heart by supper.
Despite the small forces of mutants attempting to block your path, each more twisted and mutated than the last, you press on, pushing through the narrow corridors of the ancient Neptunian orbital habitat. The dimly lit halls are lined with faded metal walls, occasionally interrupted by sparking wires and remnants of old technology peeking through the cracks. Moving in a wide formation to accommodate the cramped space, you make your way steadily forward.
You approach the Atmospherics Station. You would not have been able to recognize it from any of the other doors, were it not for Khorban leading you there. You hear massive air-cyclers, the sound of large fans, and chemical processes whose working is beyond your ken.
You are quickly impressed by the sheer scale of the installation. The chamber stretches far and wide, with towering machines whirring and humming in a symphony of regulated chaos. The air is cool and crisp, filtered through techno-arcane systems that must cycle the oxygen for a sizeable part of the continent-sized orbital habitat.
Your eyes scan the vast expanse, taking in the intricate network of pipes and tanks that make up the heart of this crucial facility. The soft glow of control panels illuminates the chamber, casting shadows that dance across the metallic walls.
Your eyes dart to the sound of metal screeching and ripping. Doors burst open along the walls, vent covers pop off with a clang, and panels crash to the floor as a horde of mutants flood into the room from every single angle. Behind them come the taskmasters, those more humanoid mutants that wear something that might almost be called a uniform, as they drive their sub-sapient kin out before them.
The Gene-Patriarchs lumber into view, these ones carrying what look to be Volkite weapons. The baleful eyes of their helmets glaring menacingly at you.
"Widen formation! Firing line. Fire at will!" Your command echoes through the battlefield, repeated with blasts of your helmet's integrated whistle. On your knees behind the cover, you examine the battlefield and give commands, even as with every calculated pop-up, you unleash a volkite potshot upon the grotesque mutants. The din of battle surrounds you, the screams of both allies and enemies blending together into a chaotic symphony. But you remain focused, determined to lead your soldiers to victory.
This is the moment where you will shine.
The crackle of the vox line breaks through your focus, Amélie's voice determined yet cool. "Flanking right to form a killzone." she reports, having drawn her sword and leading her men to the right, taking cover behind barrels and heavy machinery as they advance.
You work in tandem with the move. "Philip, covering fire!" 'Pip' takes control of his Rapier's weapons system, his assertive command going out over the Vox. "Rapier, engage targets! Fire at will!" His order reverberates through the radio frequency as a symphony of destruction begins to play out in the formation ahead.
You grit your teeth, feeling the weight of command pressing down upon you. The battle rages on, each shot fired, each order given bringing you closer to victory or defeat. Adrenaline courses through your veins as you lead your unit with precision and determination. The mutants may be numerous, but they are no match for the disciplined firepower of your forces.
As the mutants continue their relentless charge, You make your next order. "Jeane, take Third Section left behind those vats. Lay down fire upon the taskmasters. They're firing freely right now!" Without hesitation, her troops move swiftly.
The storm of lasbolts, frag shells, and bolters slams into and through the mutants, the sheer mass of firepower obliterating much of the mutant horde and throwing up such a spray of blood and gorey mist, that when the Volkites are fired in retaliation, your troops have already spread out and repositioned and when three soldiers are struck, they take none of their comrades with them.
Within the cramped chamber, it is difficult to find adequate cover and your fellow soldiers make use of whatever objects or structures they can find to shield themselves from enemy fire.
"Elan!" Amélie shouts the ancient war cry over the Vox, as the Taskmasters push forward, each of these mutants bulked out and lupine, firing heavy combat shotguns with bayonets at the end. Their speed caught you by surprise, and quickly, The right flank devolves into a brutal close range firefight that sees the Second Section driven back even as bolt shells rip into the taskmasters.
Your troops, now pressed into the very confines of the Atmospherics Station, can barely move without triggering a hail of metal and fire from the Gene-Patriarchs' Volkite weapons and the shotguns of their Taskmaster subordinates. The station's control panels, once soft and comforting in their glow, now cast an ominous and flickering shadow-dance across the walls. Second Section pulls back to a corner of the room, making a stand behind reinforced atmospheric pipes.
The Astartes, however, remain firm and resolute, their bolters crackling and firing at will as they slowly work their way towards the remaining Patriarchs. The fire of the Taskmasters does not even scratch their armour, and their bolters blast apart the fodder protecting the Gene-Patriarchs.
"Focus on the leaders!" your voice echoes.
In response, your section sends out a withering volley of concentrated lasbolts as the Rapier unleashes a hail of frag shells towards the Patriarchs, their protective barriers lighting up from the lasbolts, and then bursting in a symphony of resounding blasts upon the impact of the grenade shrapnel.
Three Volkite beams shoot out, each sweeping through the First and Third consolidated, turning scores of men to ash. You immediately pull Jean your vox-trooper and Jeanne down to where Primevere is already in cover, as three sustained Volkite beams wash over the First and third consolidated.
The heated Volkite beams are such a bright orange they turn white in their cores. They sweep through the ranks of soldiers, their bodies burning into dust, leaving behind only blackened fragments of armor.
The Astartes rush forward, opening fire on fully automatic, bolt rounds ripping through and blowing apart the Gene-Patriarchs.
The remnants of your forces are holed up inside the control station for Atmospherics, the scarce dozen of soldiers of the Three sections that survived the fighting.
A tense silence reigns as everyone clutches their weapons, the Astartes guarding the doors while the surviving Auxilia help Philip and his Rapier crew prepare the ordnance. Focus upon their task superceding any anger towards you.
You ignore the occasional caustic glare you receive. War is costly.
As Sergeant Khorban adjusts the controls on the large Cogitator station. You can see a complex network of tubes and abstract squares representing the atmospheric cyclers and the rest of the ventilation system, and you realize he is redirecting them for optimal dispersion.
You nod in approval at the ingenuity. "You're changing the direction of these air currents." You say, more as a statement than a question.
"For maximum effect." Khorban responds through his helmet.
He points to a large valve on the wall, immediately one of his Astartes starts opening it. The valve begins to suck in air. "This station was designed to disperse aerosolized chemicals for control, now it will be used to unleash destruction across the station. Observe"
You flinch and squeak out an undignified noise as the legionnaire slams the shell's base on the floor to activate the impact fuse, then pushes it into the sucking vents. There is a grating mechanical noise from the marine that you need a few moments to recognize for laughter. The marine then shoves it into the vents,
Khorban looks up at your mortar crew and their servitor assistants. "Impact fuses first. I am closing the grills on the vents our payloads are heading, so the impacts will set off the shells"
The Rapier's crew are hesitant at first but then with greater purpose, get to work, following the Marines in preparing their phosphex shells to be inserted. They work like an artillery crew, with the valve as their breach.
The Habitat, which would one day be known as Neptune Orbital 12, trembled as ventilation vents exploded open, each of them unleashing a torrent of The Fire of Old Night. In a matter of minutes, the insatiable Phosphex fires would rage through the station, each of the motion-attracted masses of white flame raging through the hallways, dozens of separate infernos each raging out from where they had been unleashed, consuming whatever they touched.
For the Imperial Strategos leading the assault, the first indication something had changed was the abrupt halt of enemy reinforcements from within the habitat's core. It was clear that -something- had happened.
It was a status report from a Sub-Tercio commander, backed by the word of an Astartes Squad Leader, that explained what had happened. The three-month long campaign would be reduced to a week-long mopup, and the survivors of the expedition were each commended for their actions. From the lowest surviving trooper to their Ensign, all received promotions and were put in a new sub Tercio for the next assault upon [REDACTED]
-The Purgation of Neptune: Submitted to the Imperial Court. 793M30
Apothecary running at full capacity.
Induction vat throughput.l: 89% failure rate
Intake pens capacity: 121% safe capacity. Cull in progress.
Additional prison barges requested.
Expected casualty rate of the first year of Neptunian Compliance.
1253 Marines.
Expected recruitment for the first year of Neptunian Compliance.
11 Dreadnoughts.
1373 Marines.
189278 failed implantations.
-Chapter intake report: Neptunian Orbital Twelve.
The Marines were right about the hidden hangar and led you and the surviving members of the Sub-Tercio there. It was a simple matter of using the access codes the sergeant had provided you with. (His fingers were too big for the keypad.) and taking cover inside. Primevére voxed in your situation, much to the loud congratulations and excitement from the commanders on the other end. Dropships were quickly dispatched to fortify your position and prepare to shuttle you back to the Argent Heart.
A second shuttle in the markings of the First Legion arrived alongside the one for you, servitors emerging alongside a group of menials and armed voidmen, they would proceed to gather up the guns used by the Gene-Patriarchs, sealing them in stasis caskets for transfer to their masters, the weapons destined for soldiers far above you.
As the ramp of the single Arvus Lighter that now carries what remains of your Sub-Tercio heads through the void, you can't help but consider the looks from your soldiers. Many of them are angry, although most just look Tired. Jeanne and Amélie sit next to each other, sipping their wine rations as they grumble about the losses they took. 'Pip' Meanwhile fusses over his Rapier, loudly lamenting the damage the chassis has taken.
You ignore them for now. You won, and if even half of what you have overheard is true, delivered a brutal blow to the enemy. You are certain that this will be the beginning of your rise up the ranks of the Solar Auxilia. A victory of this scale is something that will mark you out for greatness.
The losses were regrettable but necessary.
In the end, there was little room for celebration, and the campaign against Neptune's many moons was set to continue. Your Legate Marshal congratulated each of you, shook your hands, before apologising about being needed in the war room for additional planning. Commendations would wait until the end of the campaign.
From the remnants of other formations, and reserves spread throughout the fleet, the strategic savants of the Saturnyne Ordos were already aiding the Verdyn Chemical Engineers in reconstituting themselves for a massed combined deployment. Your excellent service and loyalty had marked you out, and you were put in command of an enlarged Sub-Tercio as part of this massive deployment.
[]Triton, the den:
The moon of Triton is a blasted expanse of cryovolcanoes and a seemingly endless expanse of ice. Deep within its heart, in the infamous slaughter-tunnels, lie vast breeding dens where the Gene-Patriarchs are preparing an army to fight back against the Revenant Legion. Additionally, the Gene-Patriarchs have begun to implant their armies with integrated cybernetic weapons to render them more effective in ranged combat.
The world is a two-fronted engagement. Mutants in pressure suits and with firearms upon the blasted surface, and great swarms of them in the great tunnels and underground networks that sprawl beneath the surface of the world, filled with gene labs and other esoteric techno-arcane machinery used by the Gene-Patriarchs.
The amount of Mutants Swarms are expected to be double or even triple what you experienced before, and there will be more formations of Gene-Patriarchs. However, the Astartes will deploy in force and you will be expected to merely provide mopup operations.
Gene-Matriarch presence suspected.
Your mission: Hold the Triton Nexus, a spaceport that serves as the entrance to a grand underground network of tunnels while the Astartes continue their underground offensive, all the while fighting an offensive campaign on the surface against enemy reinforcements.
Expected enemies: Regular deployments of 5+ Mutant Swarms.
[]Nereid, the fallen paradise:
The moon of Nereid is a monument to hubris. Surrounded by an atmospheric shell, an artificial core, and surrounded by satellites that illuminated the world until the surface was akin to a tropical beach paradise, keeping an ocean of liquid water at an optimal temperature. Nereid was a resort, a moon-sized beach resort where one could sunbathe and swim during the Dark Age of Technology.
Although the exotic outside of the world has remained the same, something stews within its depths. Generations of humans live and die as extensions of the cybernetic constructs that Nereid's central controlling computer uses to stay in operation, a remnant of the Men of Iron that is to be expunged.
Still equipped with frightening levels of technology, the only reason the Nereid AI has not expanded is the utter absence of materials to build a spacecraft.
Your mission: Hold the spaceport while the Revenant Legion purge the moon of cybernetic constructs.
Expected enemies: Low numbers of high quality units.
[]Proteus, the living moon:
Once just another world, Proteus has grown to twice its original size, becoming a swollen orb of cancerous void-resistant biomass, with only half the original surface of Proteus sticking out of this mass like the pus tip of a great boil. Proteus is occupied by a xenos invasion force that has tormented the Solar System for nearly a millennium.
The mass of Proteus is its own massive organism, which absorbs energy from the electromagnetic spectrum to grow and swell, forming a hard outer layer inside of which a mass of energy-rich liquid coagulates. Upon reaching critical mass, it will burst and send out a spread of seeds.
Due to the danger of destroying the mass causing a dispersion event, a slower operation has been organized. The world is to be burned, inch by inch, to ensure that the mass is unable to spread.
The official designation of the xenos species is the Cymoeba, and whether they are an extension of Proteus, a thrall-species, or are in fact the controllers of this beast, is still unknown. They are a plasmic race, each akin to a giant cell, housed in protective cybernetic layers that come in humanoid light and arachnoid heavy variants. Where the Cymoeba ends and the cybernetics begin is still unknown, as is the capacity for independent thought of each Cymoeba.
Pre-Old Night records mention a history of conflict with this species, including a surrender treaty forced upon their state. For their perfidious use of humanity's weakness during Old Night, the Emperor of Mankind has signed a writ of extermination against the Cymoeba.
Your mission: Hold the Imperial Fortress established upon Proteus so the Revenant Legion can use it as a base from which to launch their purgation operations.
Expected enemies: Xenos military of equivalent makeup to the Solar Auxilia
Sub-Tercio Delta:
First Lasrifle Section has been upgraded to a Veteran Lasrifle Section:
Second Lasrifle Section has been replenished
Third Lasrifle Section has been replenished
First Rapier Destroyer Support Section is still fully operational.
Sub-Tercio Delta is to be expanded. It will be supplemented with the following sections.
(You have 5 reinforcement points)
(Only add the Section's name to your plans. Votes with the full length description will not be counted to avoid cluttering.)
-Solar Auxilia Lasrifle Section:
A force of void-armoured well-trained well-drilled troops equipped with the finest lasrifles that the early Imperium can source.
Shooting 4+
Armour save: 5+
Combat effectiveness: 2d6 + 0
Wounds: 1
Trait:
Light weaponry: Can not damage Heavy armour.
Defender: Automatically moves into Engagment Melee to match enemy melee units
Costs: 1
Max: 2
-Solar Auxilia Flamer Section:
The purifying effects of fire have long proven themselves against the Psyker and the Alien, and the Saturnyne Ordos have developed flamethrowers able to either use promethium or hydrazine based gels depending on if an engagement is expected to take place in vacuum.
Shooting 5+
Shots: 3
Armour save: 5+
Combat effectiveness: 2d6 - 2
Wounds: 1
Trait:
Fire-Purgation: When General Melee ensues, the Flamer Section makes a full shooting attack.
Costs: 2
Max 1
-Solar Auxilia Rapier Support Section:
Modified cargo-palettes equipped with heavy weapons are the inspiration of these weapons systems, their design so durable and reliable that the Astartes have begun to use them.
Shooting 3+
Armour save: None
Combat effectiveness: 2d6 - 3
Wounds: 1
Trait:
Fire Support: When Attacking: If the enemy has no Fire Support in the engagement, the attacker shoots fist.
Costs: 2
Max: 1
-Veletaris Volkite Support Section: Elite Solar Auxilia in heavy Void Armour, equipped with the best weapons baseline humanity can expect to wield.
Shooting 3+
Armour save: 4+
Combat effectiveness: 2d6 + 0
Wounds: 1
Trait:
Light Weaponry: Can not damage Heavy armour.
Deflagrate: If an enemy unit is killed by this unit, immediately apply another wound to an enemy unit during shooting resolution, one more if a unit of Chaff is killed.
Costs: 2
Max: 1
-Veletaris Storm-Axe Support Section: Elite Solar Auxilia in heavy Void Armour, equipped with storm axes to cut through obstacles both object and person.
Armour save: 4+
Combat effectiveness: 2d6 + 1
Wounds: 2
Trait:
Guardian: If General Melee ensues, roll for Support Sections as normal. When a Support Section is to take a wound, instead roll again for the Storm-axe Section and have it take the place of the support section. It can both take wounds for the Support Section, or attack for them. This effect can happen once per Guardian.
Melee combatant: Will immediately enter engagement Melee if possible.
Power Weaponry: Can damage Heavy armour in Melee
Costs: 2
Max: 1
-Veletaris Rotor-Cannon Support Section: Elite Solar Auxilia in heavy Void Armour, equipped with rotary autocannons for laying down suppressing fire upon the enemy.
Shooting 3+
Shots: 2
Armour save: 4+
Combat effectiveness: 2d6 -3
Wounds: 1
Light Weaponry: Can not damage Heavy armour.
Corpsegrinder: Double damage when hitting chaff.
Costs: 2
Max: 1
Solar Auxilia Charonite Ogryn Section:
Imported to the Solar System from gene-patterns imported from a trader from Pavonis, the Saturnyne Ordos have grown specially gene-bulked abhumans implanted with cybernetics that keep them quiescent, but also ready to be sent into a murderous kill-frenzy at the flip of a switch.
Armour save: 4+
Combat effectiveness 2d6 + 3
Wounds: 3
Trait:
Meat Shield: Before General Melee can start, this unit must be destroyed. All excess melee wounds are concentrated upon this unit.
It will not die: After being removed, and after the conclusion of the current melee round, roll a d6, on a 4 or up, the Charonite revives with one wound.
Melee combatant: Will immediately enter engagement Melee if possible.
Costs: 3
Max: 1
Costly, extremely so, but very worth it. Speeding up a campaign by months is no small feat. We might have most the majority of our troops but we saved far more people by completing the objective.
Its not a living moon.Not often you get to fight a living moon. Also, aliens for a bit of variety.
What are the rules about us looting non relic stuff? Enemy officers power swords, interesting skulls to metalize and put on our desk, general valuables and mementos. Stuff like that.Any 'relic weapons' as shown, are quickly gathered up and sent to the First Legion because they get all the fun toys.