Solar Auxilia Officer Quest. A 30k Early Great Crusade quest.
- Thread starter Mayto
- Start date
- Sci-Fi
- Pronouns
- He/Him
- Location
- Netherlands
What do you personally think?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The Emperor has too many examples of contingency plans for terrible situations. The Ordo Sinister, the opening of the Labyrinth of Night, himself and his personal Talons against Gharkul (and Proteus itself if he wasn't occupied on Venus), the Unspoken Sanction, the Talisman of Seven Hammers, the Grey Knights…Probably more I can't remember off the top of my head.
If I were to be asked as you have, I'd say he kept them back as another contingency of something going seriously tits up.
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Sir_Travelsalot
Never wakes up tired.
- Location
- At Home
The Rangdan Xenocide's hinted at having gone so tits-up, he loosened the Void Dragon's prison up by an iota so the C'tan could go cosmically ballistic on the aliens.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Yeah, that's "the opening of the Labyrinth of Night"
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It's clearly not some grey goo and able to attack with every part of its metallic flesh like a gooey sentient wave, but what determines whether Proteus attacks like what we just saw, or it's antibodies in the form of actual troops?
- Location
- Utrecht
The revenant legion can't get anything from it. That's why it wasn't eaten.
Canon Omake: Protean Aftermath
- Location
- Australia
Protean Aftermath
Pierre Mardon was a good soldier.
First, in the service of Franc during the Imperial Invasions.
Now, working for the Emperor as the Legate Marshall of His Auxilia.
And in that time, the man had ordered tens of thousands to grisly deaths, ensured that even in defeat his enemies wouldn't have victory and had become the pride of his nation again and again until he took his soldiers to the stars.
But such acts had taken their toll.
The scent of chemically sterilised oxygen was acrid in his lungs, a chill present that would be there for the rest of his extended lifespan. During the decade long conflict with the Imperials an errant burst of atomic warheads struck to the south of the position that his Verdyn Regiment had taken, alongside the ancient Rin Steel River Industrial Complex, causing the wind patterns to change. The muddy, chem-stained fields of Alsack, so inundated with chemicals and emitting gases that would burn through the environmental protections of even power-armoured forces, were now blowing right towards them.
Despite the fact that the bunker complex they were sheltering in was supposed to be self-contained, the chem-scrubbers filtering the dangerous outside air for the soldiers within, several had been made faulty by the relentless bombardment and assaults by Imperial artillery. While waiting for the nerve gas outside to move from lethal to simply manageable, the deadly toxin had snaked its way through the vents and turned the officer's bunker into a tomb. Surviving by dint of noticing the first coughs and being close to the emergency chemical warfare fatigues, Pierre was still exposed to an extremely high concentration of the nerve gas. His survival was deemed a miracle by the regimental doctors and the lack of maintenance a sign of 'perfidious traitors' to the propagandists of Pars, the then-Colonel was sure that his career was over.
However, his fame, his skill and his injury represented an opportunity to several of the more unscrupulous members of the nobility and merchants.
For the young (relatively given his meteoric rise through the ranks), orphan nobleman, having just been told he would be unlikely to walk or even breath unassisted for the rest of his life, the offer was too good to pass up.
The relic power armour he was emplaced within, a myriad of tubes and needles being inserted across his entire body as was so, was the prize. Little did he know it would eventually be his tomb.
The ancients were ever mercurial with their gifts.
The armour made his ruined lungs breathe, his ravaged kidney pump, even took over for his weakened heart. But it would not stop there. By the time of the surrender, his form had emaciated, his organs shrivelled to near-uselessness. Removing him from it would kill him. An ever-present reminder from his sponsors of what he would be without their largesse.
But it still gave him a chance to serve Franc and the Emperor.
From the shattered peaks of the Mid-Atlantik Hives to the rad-infested jungles of Hy Brasil, he would lead his Cohort to glorious victories, the Engineer forces under his control deploying everything from Chem-weapons to atomic rockets.
When Compliance was declared across the entirety of Terra, from the heights of the Himalazia to the cold, antarctic temple-fortress of Orioc, the General was a war hero, a legend of Franc. A sign of the nobility, prestige and history that Old Europa still claimed across the planet.
Legate Marshal Mardon used his influence well, making deals and gaining the favour of dozens of the nobility, ensuring that his troopers would be sent onto the Conquest of Sol with full equipment, the title of Auxilia and with enough of the sons and daughters of his countrymen to ensure there would be no 'mismanagement' of their deployments.
He had prided himself on making sure that his forces were well-equipped, well-led and well-fed, exactly what the soldiery of Franc should be even when they were fighting across the stars.
Stalking through the halls of the Verdyn Cohorts Troop-Barge (which still had the unfortunate name of B-1376A, from the Martian Shipyards as it was), the Legate Marshal had to stop himself from forcing his Adamantium fist through the toady, former-Ursh strategist's head as the fat lump stammered out his excuses.
"I-Imperial Intelligence assured me that the Cymoeba were a weaker force! They were quashed by the ancients! N-no one told me the moon was weaponized to that extent!" The man who was once of General Shang Khals cabal of plutocrats and industrialists tried to justify his failure.
"We deployed with the Revenant Legion, there were detachments of The First in orbit with us and the mission was to burn down the moon down to its bedrock and you claim that you did not know?!" Mardon growled out, feeling a flood of sedatives pour into his body from his armour, the cogitator of his cage not letting him grow too heated lest he undergo another heart attack. "You assured me this was a glorious deployment, do you understand the favours I had to exchange to ensure that the Cohort was deployed here? The battle accolades would put the Cohort on the path to the civilised Core worlds, now that prospect is in flux!"
Ragged puffs of breath made his oxygen mask turn opaque, ignoring the whimpering of the social officer he was forced to take on, if he was anyone else than he'd suffer a decompression accident, but promises had been made to several of the Industro-Barons of Cebu City. He would have to use those connections first before the 'strategist' could be disposed of.
His bodyguard unit, several of his former regiment who had risen high under him, were silent, the only sound the whine of the servos of their armour, each of them equipped with Chasseur armour, a priceless and unreplicable Powered Cuirass that cost him more than his family villa in Pars upper hive. Worth it to ensure that his person was kept safe from headhunter units and 'mysterious assassins'. If a lesser man was assigned to his Cohort than it would be disastrous for his nation.
Dismissing the waste of skin, the Legate Marshal entered his quarters on the troopship, his valet already in the process of preparing for the cleaning and restocking of his tomb-armour, brooding on the regiment.
35% casualties.
A miracle considering the sheer capabilities shown by that living hell-moon, the memory of reality quivering as whatever device The First implanted into the beast removing it from existence causing a spike in his blood pressure, a micro-stroke being dealt with by the nano-surgeons that his armour flooded his veins with. But with further opportunities for battle honours in Sol drying up, dealt with by the Emperor, the Astartes or other Cohorts, Mardon was forced to halt as fresh recruits were shuttled to the ship from Terra.
Looking through the stack of date-slates and reports that he had to attend to, the war hero contemplated on several of the positives of the short-lived battle.
Growing deeper ties with an Astartes Legion was a goal moving forward. While he would've preferred one of the…more refined Legions to attach his forces to, the Revenant Legion had no real focus on the political and strategic nature of interstellar combat. With any luck, he would be able to be embed himself as one of Legion Master Ishidur Ossuros most prized allies as they carried the Aquila across the stars. It was clear to see that the Emperor favoured these gene-warriors above the mundane human, with their place at the tip of the spear and near-independence in their strategic decision making. To have one of these powerful forces as an affiliate would mark great things for the Legate Marshal.
Looking down at one of the reports in Sector 42B, the man let out a grunt of amusement. Having a Sergeant of those cannibals rescue the young Sallas would bode well for their relations into the future.
His thoughts turned to Sallas in general. While in his youth he had looked down on the nouveau riche as nothing more than money-hungry merchants looking beyond their place, he had long since realised the reality of their importance to Franc. The task he had given to the Sub-Lieutenant had been completed, made simple by the danger that Proteus proved to be. One of several that his backers had asked him to deal with. The Chjandelmak scion was a simple victim of business, his family having chosen the wrong side during the last revolution and needing to be pruned for the good of the nation.
While he was one of a dozen young noblemen and women who had suffered unfortunate accidents on the field of battle, Sallas had at least ensured that the Veletaris had died with honour. Much unlike Lieutenant Petain, who had 'misfired' his plasma pistol into his own targets chest while they were still in the landing shuttle, far more difficult to conceal given the fact that Ensign Dubois' industrial magnate father still had connections with the newly formed Arbites.
Still, the Sallas family's aims were well connected with the Legate Marshal's own. Franc firearm and munitions factories cropping up across worlds across Segmentum Solar would funnel wealth and influence into the nation.
While serving the Emperor's aims of course.
Regardless, as his valet poured the first of his liquid meals into the armour's nutrient ports, Pierre Mardon whispered the words that had guided him since he had forced the bayonet into the ravaged Custodes heart.
"Viva La Franc."
Author Notes: Nationalism is a hell of a drug. Our Legate Marshal feels like he could be just a fascinating man, from fighting against the Imperium, to leading his forces in the name of it, now to taking the Aquila across the stars. Is he a genuine patriot? Or more just a man taking advantage of the opportunities given?
Pierre Mardon was a good soldier.
First, in the service of Franc during the Imperial Invasions.
Now, working for the Emperor as the Legate Marshall of His Auxilia.
And in that time, the man had ordered tens of thousands to grisly deaths, ensured that even in defeat his enemies wouldn't have victory and had become the pride of his nation again and again until he took his soldiers to the stars.
But such acts had taken their toll.
The scent of chemically sterilised oxygen was acrid in his lungs, a chill present that would be there for the rest of his extended lifespan. During the decade long conflict with the Imperials an errant burst of atomic warheads struck to the south of the position that his Verdyn Regiment had taken, alongside the ancient Rin Steel River Industrial Complex, causing the wind patterns to change. The muddy, chem-stained fields of Alsack, so inundated with chemicals and emitting gases that would burn through the environmental protections of even power-armoured forces, were now blowing right towards them.
Despite the fact that the bunker complex they were sheltering in was supposed to be self-contained, the chem-scrubbers filtering the dangerous outside air for the soldiers within, several had been made faulty by the relentless bombardment and assaults by Imperial artillery. While waiting for the nerve gas outside to move from lethal to simply manageable, the deadly toxin had snaked its way through the vents and turned the officer's bunker into a tomb. Surviving by dint of noticing the first coughs and being close to the emergency chemical warfare fatigues, Pierre was still exposed to an extremely high concentration of the nerve gas. His survival was deemed a miracle by the regimental doctors and the lack of maintenance a sign of 'perfidious traitors' to the propagandists of Pars, the then-Colonel was sure that his career was over.
However, his fame, his skill and his injury represented an opportunity to several of the more unscrupulous members of the nobility and merchants.
For the young (relatively given his meteoric rise through the ranks), orphan nobleman, having just been told he would be unlikely to walk or even breath unassisted for the rest of his life, the offer was too good to pass up.
The relic power armour he was emplaced within, a myriad of tubes and needles being inserted across his entire body as was so, was the prize. Little did he know it would eventually be his tomb.
The ancients were ever mercurial with their gifts.
The armour made his ruined lungs breathe, his ravaged kidney pump, even took over for his weakened heart. But it would not stop there. By the time of the surrender, his form had emaciated, his organs shrivelled to near-uselessness. Removing him from it would kill him. An ever-present reminder from his sponsors of what he would be without their largesse.
But it still gave him a chance to serve Franc and the Emperor.
From the shattered peaks of the Mid-Atlantik Hives to the rad-infested jungles of Hy Brasil, he would lead his Cohort to glorious victories, the Engineer forces under his control deploying everything from Chem-weapons to atomic rockets.
When Compliance was declared across the entirety of Terra, from the heights of the Himalazia to the cold, antarctic temple-fortress of Orioc, the General was a war hero, a legend of Franc. A sign of the nobility, prestige and history that Old Europa still claimed across the planet.
Legate Marshal Mardon used his influence well, making deals and gaining the favour of dozens of the nobility, ensuring that his troopers would be sent onto the Conquest of Sol with full equipment, the title of Auxilia and with enough of the sons and daughters of his countrymen to ensure there would be no 'mismanagement' of their deployments.
He had prided himself on making sure that his forces were well-equipped, well-led and well-fed, exactly what the soldiery of Franc should be even when they were fighting across the stars.
Stalking through the halls of the Verdyn Cohorts Troop-Barge (which still had the unfortunate name of B-1376A, from the Martian Shipyards as it was), the Legate Marshal had to stop himself from forcing his Adamantium fist through the toady, former-Ursh strategist's head as the fat lump stammered out his excuses.
"I-Imperial Intelligence assured me that the Cymoeba were a weaker force! They were quashed by the ancients! N-no one told me the moon was weaponized to that extent!" The man who was once of General Shang Khals cabal of plutocrats and industrialists tried to justify his failure.
"We deployed with the Revenant Legion, there were detachments of The First in orbit with us and the mission was to burn down the moon down to its bedrock and you claim that you did not know?!" Mardon growled out, feeling a flood of sedatives pour into his body from his armour, the cogitator of his cage not letting him grow too heated lest he undergo another heart attack. "You assured me this was a glorious deployment, do you understand the favours I had to exchange to ensure that the Cohort was deployed here? The battle accolades would put the Cohort on the path to the civilised Core worlds, now that prospect is in flux!"
Ragged puffs of breath made his oxygen mask turn opaque, ignoring the whimpering of the social officer he was forced to take on, if he was anyone else than he'd suffer a decompression accident, but promises had been made to several of the Industro-Barons of Cebu City. He would have to use those connections first before the 'strategist' could be disposed of.
His bodyguard unit, several of his former regiment who had risen high under him, were silent, the only sound the whine of the servos of their armour, each of them equipped with Chasseur armour, a priceless and unreplicable Powered Cuirass that cost him more than his family villa in Pars upper hive. Worth it to ensure that his person was kept safe from headhunter units and 'mysterious assassins'. If a lesser man was assigned to his Cohort than it would be disastrous for his nation.
Dismissing the waste of skin, the Legate Marshal entered his quarters on the troopship, his valet already in the process of preparing for the cleaning and restocking of his tomb-armour, brooding on the regiment.
35% casualties.
A miracle considering the sheer capabilities shown by that living hell-moon, the memory of reality quivering as whatever device The First implanted into the beast removing it from existence causing a spike in his blood pressure, a micro-stroke being dealt with by the nano-surgeons that his armour flooded his veins with. But with further opportunities for battle honours in Sol drying up, dealt with by the Emperor, the Astartes or other Cohorts, Mardon was forced to halt as fresh recruits were shuttled to the ship from Terra.
Looking through the stack of date-slates and reports that he had to attend to, the war hero contemplated on several of the positives of the short-lived battle.
Growing deeper ties with an Astartes Legion was a goal moving forward. While he would've preferred one of the…more refined Legions to attach his forces to, the Revenant Legion had no real focus on the political and strategic nature of interstellar combat. With any luck, he would be able to be embed himself as one of Legion Master Ishidur Ossuros most prized allies as they carried the Aquila across the stars. It was clear to see that the Emperor favoured these gene-warriors above the mundane human, with their place at the tip of the spear and near-independence in their strategic decision making. To have one of these powerful forces as an affiliate would mark great things for the Legate Marshal.
Looking down at one of the reports in Sector 42B, the man let out a grunt of amusement. Having a Sergeant of those cannibals rescue the young Sallas would bode well for their relations into the future.
His thoughts turned to Sallas in general. While in his youth he had looked down on the nouveau riche as nothing more than money-hungry merchants looking beyond their place, he had long since realised the reality of their importance to Franc. The task he had given to the Sub-Lieutenant had been completed, made simple by the danger that Proteus proved to be. One of several that his backers had asked him to deal with. The Chjandelmak scion was a simple victim of business, his family having chosen the wrong side during the last revolution and needing to be pruned for the good of the nation.
While he was one of a dozen young noblemen and women who had suffered unfortunate accidents on the field of battle, Sallas had at least ensured that the Veletaris had died with honour. Much unlike Lieutenant Petain, who had 'misfired' his plasma pistol into his own targets chest while they were still in the landing shuttle, far more difficult to conceal given the fact that Ensign Dubois' industrial magnate father still had connections with the newly formed Arbites.
Still, the Sallas family's aims were well connected with the Legate Marshal's own. Franc firearm and munitions factories cropping up across worlds across Segmentum Solar would funnel wealth and influence into the nation.
While serving the Emperor's aims of course.
Regardless, as his valet poured the first of his liquid meals into the armour's nutrient ports, Pierre Mardon whispered the words that had guided him since he had forced the bayonet into the ravaged Custodes heart.
"Viva La Franc."
Author Notes: Nationalism is a hell of a drug. Our Legate Marshal feels like he could be just a fascinating man, from fighting against the Imperium, to leading his forces in the name of it, now to taking the Aquila across the stars. Is he a genuine patriot? Or more just a man taking advantage of the opportunities given?
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- Location
- Australia
Hehe, not gonna lie, the combination of stabbing a Custodes and being inside life-support armour heavily inspired most of the descriptions.
Also, it's fascinating that the politics of the Imperium could start this early, seeing the creation of the 'Terra First' dynamic that actually becomes law by actual 40k in real time is super cool. Wanted to provide some background for our own Old Man Genocide.
- Location
- Netherlands
With the smaller Cymoeba, the Imperium did not know where the creature began and the cybernetics began, nor if the individual Cymoeba are in a hive mind, enthralled, or controlling the larger entity.
Its not some Grey Goo. It was a massive cybernetic organism that was equal parts biological mass, cybernetics, nanotech made from biological materials, and organs made from synthetic materials.
The old pre-unity nations being forces in the Early Imperium is definitely something I want to play with.
- Location
- Netherlands
Another sneak peek of ACT 2
While you were recovering. Your Cohort was deployed to Terra for retraining and reorganisation. They have been deployed to
CentMerica:
As one of the first groups to side with the Emperor, the Mahya tribes have been granted, by a Sigilite Decree, the right and duty to restore their old cultural legacy. The jungles around their territory was hit by mutagenic warheads in millenia past, turning the wildlife hostile and virulent.
The Cohort trains in jungle warfare.
Gyptus:
The Sigilite has decreed that the Great Pyramid of Gyptus is to be rebuilt. While at the same time, the deserts of Northafrik are to be used for training in the operating of sealed armoured vehicles. The Cohort joins twenty million other Imperial soldiers in equal parts reconstruction labour, desert warfare training.
The Cohort trains in desert warfare.
The Canad Wastes:
The great white north of Canad is one of the last areas of Terra not under Imperial control due to both its remoteness and the excessive amounts of mutants and hostile techno-tribes. The Verdyn Chemical Engineers were tasked with subduing the tribes with minimal loss of life, so as to integrate their labour and technology.
The Cohort trains in arctic warfare
Atlantik Dome Cities:
To partake in a suppression campaign against anti-Imperial tribes in the area, and waging a hearts and mind operation among the villages and tribes of the area by clearing away mutants and remaining mechanical threats.
The Cohort trains in irregular warfare against recidivist elements.
The retribution of Ursh:
Several Ursh cities have recently rebelled against Imperial rule. After their leaders were executed by the Custodes, the rebellions fell apart, but so did civil rule and administration. The Cohort is to use this as an opportunity to learn occupation duties.
The Cohort trains in reconstructing cities and handling non-compliant civilians.
The liberation of the Arctic:
The Arctic Hive of Gorglund has recently been freed from a hidden cabal of Psykers that mentally controlled the population from the shadows. The Cohort is to aid in reconstruction and use this experience to learn how to bring Compliance to newly liberated populations.
The Cohort trains in reconstructing cities following liberation from Psychic(or Xenos) domination.
While you were recovering. Your Cohort was deployed to Terra for retraining and reorganisation. They have been deployed to
CentMerica:
As one of the first groups to side with the Emperor, the Mahya tribes have been granted, by a Sigilite Decree, the right and duty to restore their old cultural legacy. The jungles around their territory was hit by mutagenic warheads in millenia past, turning the wildlife hostile and virulent.
The Cohort trains in jungle warfare.
Gyptus:
The Sigilite has decreed that the Great Pyramid of Gyptus is to be rebuilt. While at the same time, the deserts of Northafrik are to be used for training in the operating of sealed armoured vehicles. The Cohort joins twenty million other Imperial soldiers in equal parts reconstruction labour, desert warfare training.
The Cohort trains in desert warfare.
The Canad Wastes:
The great white north of Canad is one of the last areas of Terra not under Imperial control due to both its remoteness and the excessive amounts of mutants and hostile techno-tribes. The Verdyn Chemical Engineers were tasked with subduing the tribes with minimal loss of life, so as to integrate their labour and technology.
The Cohort trains in arctic warfare
Atlantik Dome Cities:
To partake in a suppression campaign against anti-Imperial tribes in the area, and waging a hearts and mind operation among the villages and tribes of the area by clearing away mutants and remaining mechanical threats.
The Cohort trains in irregular warfare against recidivist elements.
The retribution of Ursh:
Several Ursh cities have recently rebelled against Imperial rule. After their leaders were executed by the Custodes, the rebellions fell apart, but so did civil rule and administration. The Cohort is to use this as an opportunity to learn occupation duties.
The Cohort trains in reconstructing cities and handling non-compliant civilians.
The liberation of the Arctic:
The Arctic Hive of Gorglund has recently been freed from a hidden cabal of Psykers that mentally controlled the population from the shadows. The Cohort is to aid in reconstruction and use this experience to learn how to bring Compliance to newly liberated populations.
The Cohort trains in reconstructing cities following liberation from Psychic(or Xenos) domination.
- Location
- Australia
Damn, they're all pretty good. Personally I reckon we focus on maximum destruction, either desert or jungle where we can deploy our War-Crime Arsenal with little collateral.
I mean, the reconstruction one is going to win, but yeah. I suppose we are an engineering group.
I mean, the reconstruction one is going to win, but yeah. I suppose we are an engineering group.
Artic... I think. Unless we would t be dealing with more xenos with the Revenants.
...do human mutants count as xenos? Maybe Ursh then...? Then again, were the Chemical Warfare Cohort.... But then again, there's also being Franc with defensive positions... Atlantic Domes might be useful against regular humans though...
...do human mutants count as xenos? Maybe Ursh then...? Then again, were the Chemical Warfare Cohort.... But then again, there's also being Franc with defensive positions... Atlantic Domes might be useful against regular humans though...
...huh. Then I'm more leaning to Ursh. Imagine rebuilding a city that became a toxic disaster zone.
...oh wait.
EDIT: ...thinking about it. Picking Artic will likely help a lot for the Revenants since I think Big E is rushing to get more planets or something in this era? So getting Planets to be Compliant might be a big boon...?
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- Location
- Australia
Ah, don't worry Mayto, we get you.
'Handling'
'Non-compliant'
'Citizens'
Hehe, better stock up on the nerve gas guys.
The question is do we want the cohort to be better at warfare or at what comes after warfare? While I think all the options are interesting, especially the Ursh one, I think we should go with the Artic one because it will let us focus on the thing that matters most to Big E. How to enact COMPLIANCE.
- Location
- Netherlands
Hey! What kind of writer do you think I am?Ah, don't worry Mayto, we get you.
'Handling'
'Non-compliant'
'Citizens'
Hehe, better stock up on the nerve gas guys.
Tear gas first.
Cohort equipment will include Imperial crowd-control equipment: Water cannons, Web-launchers, Tear Gas, Rubber bullets, low-power adapters for Lasrifles, and Heavy Bolters.
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Will Sergeant Pip be (mostly) sitting this one out, then? Or will he be the one with the Tear Gas?