Let the Galaxy Burn anthology analysis thread

[Connor MacLeod]

Yep. We start the big mother of 40K short stories (actually a compiliation of a bunch of smaller, previous books, so most of them I'd read in here to begin with. Hell several of the anthologies were reproduced almost entirely in this book)

I'd have done this sooner but for the holidays and recurring computer problems with my display and video software, but I managed to get around to doing this now, my last official update for 2010. Enjoy!

The first one is a Black Templars short story by Ben Counter. I rather liked it although I know not everyone did. Also as a bonus, a Dark Angels short story highlighting their continued assholishness, although I rather liked the ending.

Page 13-14

The devastator sergeant handed Athellenas the scope from the squad's lascannon. Athellenas made his way to the temple perimeter, from where the great smoking hulk of the crashed renegade craft could be seen, scarred and pitted, against the grey, pre-dawn sky.

He looked through the scope and saw the enemy for the first time. He counted them automatically - one batch stripping the dead, another, cav­alry, dragging stubborn horses from the ship's hold, and a third group, the largest, surrounding the leader. They were cultists, and far gone -most of them shirtless and wearing the jackets of meir uniforms tied around their waists; barefoot, their skins scarred and painted with blood, armed with whatever they had salvaged. Lasguns, knives, shards of twisted metal, a couple of heavy weapons on carriages pulled by the rid­ers' horses. Every cultist had that same wide-eyed look, the look of rage mixed with desperation and unacknowledged fear, the emotions of treachery waiting to boil over at any second. Athellenas added up their numbers. Six thousand, give or take.

Lascannon scope used as a telescope, a Khornate Traitor regiment of 6,000 troops (approximately.)

Page 14

"He's a lot more than a rumour, Valerian. He's real, and he's here. He has the four thousand from Gathalamor and more. Probably the Guryan mutineers, and some cavalry.' Athellenas handed back the scope. 'Prepare a defensive position. The Manskinner will know we are here. He will attack with the sun"

4,000 Gathalamor troops, plus whatever extras. Also mention fo the Manskinner, a Khornate champion (and a rather charasmatic one - they''re nota ll mindless bloodthristy psychos)

Page 14

That the famously pious planet of Gathalamor should supply the renegades for the Manskinner's army was too much for the Ecdesiarchy to admit. They had insisted the Manskinner was a rumour dreamed up by their enemies in the Administratum.

Like some arms fo the Imperium, the Ecclesiarchy can choose to deny reliaty if they want too.

Also we see that all organizations, even the religion, aren't absolute and infighting happens, even with the religious arm of the Imperium.

Page 15

It was on Gathalamor that the Manskinner turned up next and earned his name. Those officers in the regiment he infiltrated who opposed him were butchered in the night and their flayed skins run up the barrack's flag poles. Within three days of his arrival, it was said, several thousand of the planet's most trusted Guardsmen had disappeared, taking a troop trans­port ship from orbit as they did so, leaving a blood-soaked altar of skulls in the centre of their parade ground as if to mock those who stayed behind.
These were the tales that seemed to have substance. Others were just anecdotes and stories, about how the Manskinner could turn men to Chaos with his words alone, about the strange omens mat accompanied him, and the abnormalities in the Astronomican which had confounded the spacecraft attempting to pursue his army.

Again, we have a Khornate champion here who is not stupid and seems to be a gifted speaker. Also the transport, which may possibly have belonged or been statoned to the planet. Curiously, his blessings seemed to result in Astronomican fuckery that made tracking him hard.

Page 16

They would charge across the planet's lone city and take the spaceport, and their brothers in orbit would carry them the rest of their journey to Macharia, and on that world of thirty billion souls, his army would die in an orgy of carnage in the name of the Blood God. It was impossible to imagine the numbers that would die, the mindless hordes of the weak put to the sword before the last cultist died.

Such would be the pleasure of the Blood God, that he, the Manskinner, would become his chosen, an immortal champion murdering the very stars in His name.

Macharia, a planet whose populaton numbers 30 billion. We aren't clear on what kind of world it is,b ut it would probably be one of the specialized "civliised/Imperial" worlds and/or a low level hive world. I believe the 3rd edition IG codex mentions a Shrine World named Macharia, this may be that place. (OF course even if it is that doesn't preclude it being a Civilised/Imperial/Hive World of some kind, either.)

Page 16

The rider galloped up on his jet-black horse. The beast's nostrils were flecked with foaming blood and its eyes bulged, but even this animal was infected by the power of the words of blood. Diess himself, young and breathlessly eager, sat bolt upright, cavalry sword raised in salute, still wearing his tattered officer's uniform.

A (relatively rare) example of animals being influenced adversely by the influence of Chaos in the same manner humans are (eg words, in this case.)

Page 17

The devastator squad's weapons sprouted sudden blossoms of flame and the first wave of heretic cavalry fell, some men shot off the backs of their mounts, some with their horses cut in half, all falling to the ground in clouds of dust.

Devastator weapons cut horses in half. Would be more calcable if we knew what sorts of weapons and how they were "cut in half" (if a lascannon for exapmle is it a cutting/slicing beam or is it explosive effects?)

Page 17

Those who had weapons which could shoot returned fire and a score of lasgun shots impacted against the black stone of the temple. Some hit the armour of the dug-in tactical and assault squads. None penetrated.

Lasgun fire fails to penetrate power armor. OFten this depends as much on the volume/concentration of fire (multiple near-hits weakening the same area) or finding less protected spots (joints of armor and such.)

Page 17

Shots kept coming and the assault squad sergeant, Kytellias, took a hit on the arm.

"Status, Kytellias?"

"Not serious." replied the sergeant. "Lost a couple of fingers. Ready for your order."

Marine loses several fingers from his (gauntleted) hand to a lasgun bolt. Calced below.

Page 17

Another volley from the devastator and tactical squads cut down a swathe more horsemen, but the enemy were within laspistol range now. Athellenas's auto-sense warning icons flashed against his retina as one shot rang off his shoulder pad. He aimed his bolt pistol and took revenge for the firer's presumption, the shot taking a cultist in the neck and send­ing him somersaulting backwards off his horse.
..
Before the word was out of his throat, Kytel­lias and his men had rocketed out of their dugouts, jump packs roaring. They came down on the heads of the nearest riders and each one cut down his opposite man. Kytellias himself sought his next target without breaking stride. Ignoring the cultists whose blades and clubs were turned aside by his armour, the sergeant ran at full pelt towards the officer.

Autosenses can display suit warnings (in this case from damage, apparently), bolt pistols can knock a man off a horse (either from impact or explosive effect, probably the former since the latter ought to blwo his head off if it hits the neck), and power armor turns aside Khornate cultists blades and clubs.

Page 18

Plunging into the swirling dust and screams of the dying, he ducked the first blade and stuck back with his power fist, a great pendulous blow that lifted rider and hortse and threw them seven metres in a shower of blue sparks from the power field.

Power fist blow sends a horse and rider seven metres. A horse weighs maybe half a ton plus say 50-60 kilos for a rider. Call it 550 kilos. At a minimum, severla m/s velocity seems likely, if not more. We're likely talking 1000-2000 kg*m/s worth of momentum, which is quite alot for a punch. Presumably its not neccesarily the force of the punch (wholly). Power field interactions (some sort of explosive effect, for example, from an energy discharge) could cause it.

Page 18

Athellenas hurried forward through the clouds of dust and gunsmoke. He looked in the direction of the cultist spacecraft, auto-senses magnify­ing the image and picking out the sounds of fhe approaching horde.

Auto senses show image magnification capability.


Page 18-19

"Sir, we cannot fall back. We cannot surrender this position."

There was a quality in Valerian's voice that every commander came to know. The sound of rebellion.

"Valerian, you will fall back immediately. The enemy is too great. We cannot face them here." Afhellenas could see the Manskinner, claw swing­ing as he ran, fhe mass of cultists swarming around him.

"Sir, I cannot retreat in the face of the enemy. The Inititate Doctoris states as much-"

"Questions of doctrine will be dealt with on Terra. For now you will fol­low orders."

One of the reasons lots of people hate this Let the Galaxyh Burn short story, because it makes the space Marines (and BT in particulair) look stupid. Honestly though, I dont have that problem. I think the story tends to emphasize the differecnes in view and opinion that Space Marines can have, especially between a line trooper and an officer. An officer cannot be expected to hold to Dogma where his troops and victory is concerned, which is precisely what the BT officer here demonstrates.

It also must be noted while the whole "we dont retreat" bit is emphasized, the "obedience to officers and authority" is also ignored, which is the corresponding Astartes value that is conflicting with the former. And it also shows, I believe, that the point of this story is that some Space Marines can be horribly arrogant and blind themselves through that arrogance.


Page 19

They had run. These Marines, these defenders of humanity, who should have died a hundred times over rather than yield one inch of ground to fhe Blood God's followers: they had retreated. They had fallen back in the face of heretics. They had surrendered this place, a symbol of their Emperor's false godhood, a place that was as holy as could be.

This was wrong. This was not the way of the Imperium. They were sup­posed to underestimate the Blood God's power in fheir arrogance, and die beneath fhe blades of His army as it swept them aside.

Blood Champion's POV on Imprial tactics. Not sure how reliable I would take this.

Page 20

Empyrion IX's only settlement had been abandoned, along with the rest of the planet, when it was realised that its mineral deposits were far scarcer than the Adeptus Mechanicus Geologis had thought. And so it had stayed, for hundreds of years, until today, when the fates had chosen it for the conflict that would decide the fate of a billion lives.

Ad,Mech GEologis branch. An "abandoned" mining settlement that is relatively unimportant in Imperial terms still has a population of a billion.

Page 21

Commander Athellenas looked at his assault sergeant. Like all the Black Templars, he had been tested without his knowledge back on Terra for the risk of disobedience - and Kytellias had been designated the most likely to rebel in Athellenas's whole command. Kytellias's capacity for initiative and self-reliance, that made him an ideal assault sergeant, at the same time made him headstrong and potentially dangerous. Yet he was the Marine Athellenas could most trust here.

This was not a question of a Marine being required to sell his life for the fraction of a victory. This danger was not born of cowardice or malice. Valerian, and perhaps others, were being ordered to abandon their whole system of values, to change the way they saw right and wrong. Retreat in the face of the enemy - in the face of Chaos - was a fundamental evil to a Marine.

He was asking his men to do wrong. What commander, what Space Marine, had that right?

Again we see how some Marines can be arrogant or foolishly fanatical, and not every Marine, especially not officers, cannot afford such qualities. Another good BT example would be Helbrecht himself (particularily in the Third Armageddon war.)


PAge 21

Kytellias looked down at his wounded hand. His blood had crystallised quickly around the plasteel, where the lasgun blast had sheared off three fingers. "I still have my trigger finger, sir. No operational concerns."

- lasgun blast shears off three fingers of a Space MArine's hand/gauntlet. Trigger finger and thumb intact, meaning the lower three fingers were blasted off by lasgun blast. It didn't cauterize since his wound had to self-heal. The surface area of those fingers would probably be 7-10 cm long./wide.

using the [url=http://panoptesv.com/SciFi/Pulse2.php]death ray site]/url] for structural steel is 100 kj although that probably assumes full thickness steel. For meat a single 1 KJ could easily blast that many fingers (or more) off, although the possibility of third degree burns (50-100j per square cm) could add maybe another 10 kj or so.

I could do vaporization and that would probably yield several MJ (especailly for vaporizing the gauntlet) but I don't count that much for several reasons, the main one being that vaporizing three fingers would result in the hand being far more mangled by collateral blast effects in all probability, so it seems likley we're dealing with double/triple digit KJ per shot. Which isn't bad at all, considering las weapons can hav emultiple settings. Despite being indicated from being a lasgun, there is still a fair bit of variation in that (power pack, weapon configuration, etc.)

Page 22

Space Marines. When the Guard threw billions of men to be chewed up by whichever foe their wrath fell upon, it was the Marines who survived, who delivered the killing blow to an enemy the Guardsmen's deaths had laid open.

Space Marines vs Guard. Not a small bit of resentment here, methinks.

Page 23

Recoba saw one of the Marines, no, two, swamped by cultists who, hav­ing lost their weapons in the crash, threw themselves at the assault squad and dragged them down under the weight of the mob. The cultists grabbed the only thing at hand that could be used as a weapon - chunks of plascrete torn from the ground by heavy weapons fire - and set to work on the Marines. Recoba himself opened fire with his bolter, even as the two Marines' ceramite armour gave way beneath the pounding of plascrete. He heard them crack open, and felt it, too, as it gave all his men the heart not to break, to stand and fight.

Again, Marines can be overwhelmed if numbers are sufficient. And rocks and other high momentum weapons can with repeated blows even break armor. Besides, its not as if Khornate cultists are normal humnas, or that Space MArine armor is uniformly durable everywhere, so despite the potential for this to be crowed over as some sort of "proof", its not exactly surprising.

Page 23

Athellenas watched as incandescent death lanced down from the upper floors of the building overlooking the street, tearing a hole through the main body of cultists. Lascannon blasts gouged furrows in the broken road surface, and frag missiles burst into clouds of fire, sweeping across the road, engulfing a dozen cultists at a time. Heavy bolter shots stitched a bloody path through the cultists, and the heavy plasma blasts fell like huge drops of liquid fire that flowed as water but melted anything they touched. The noise was immense, a vast roar of explosive, mechanical rage, mixed with the screams of the dying and the hiss of burning flesh. But Athellenas's auto-senses filtered out the din, leaving only the communicator channels clear.

More heavy weapons, including the flamethrower plasma weapons that melt stuff. Ben Counter loves his plasma weapons, so we're forced to conclude that there are different "kinds" of plasma in 40K, and some are rather.. exotic. (Then again he's not alone, since you have some plasmas that are matter to energy conversion..) Hell it could be that the Counter "plasma guns" are plasma/flamethrower hybrids that just use a really high temp effect or something via exotic matter or whatever. We know form DH that flamers can get quite advanced, and the fact some flamers literally do reduce bodies to ash (a feat difficult to do with any sort o man portable chemical reactions) would reinforce that notion.

Page 24

Athellenas could hear the gunsmoke coiling in the air and the blood running down the walls, the last licks of flame playing over the charred bodies of the cultists.

charring bodies could be a few hundred kj to sevral MJ at least for flash burning, up to several tens of MJ for deeper injuries (cauterization or melting). We dont know what weapons did this, however, although its likely the heavy weapons did.

Page 24-25

Valerian was almost lost, realised Athellenas. He was trying to hide it, but his whole belief system was breaking down. Everything he had been taught, as a child, and as a Marine, had told him that to retreat was to die a million deaths, to give up his honour as well as his life, to betray his Emperor, his primarch, his very species.

..

"Damnation, commander, this is madness! Does this Chapter mean nothing to you? Have you no duty to the souls of your lost brothers?
Already we have lost men here, do you wish to defile their memories with your cowardice? This is madness, sir, nothing but madness! I will not retreat, not ever, not for anyone or anything! I will not turn away from the fight, I will die by fire and by the sword, for if the only other option is to run like a child alongside you then I have no choice to make."
This was where the battle was won. Athellenas knew he was right. He knew he would win. It was required of him. The enemy was nothing, he told himself. But his own men, they were the dangerous ones. They could break the back of this whole operation. If he ever had to be a leader of men, it was now.

..

"Valerian, you will fall back and maintain a defensive line at the space­port. If you do not you will be shot and your name will be struck from the Liber Honarium. Your soul will have no mention at the Feast of the Departed. Your gene-seed will not be taken and given to a new initiate, because you will not be fit to have a Marine follow you into this 7. The faces of Rogal Dorn and of the eternal Emperor will be turned from you forever. You will not be in the Emperor's army at the end of time when the final battle is fought."

"You fear dishonour, Sergeant Valerian? If you disobey me now, if you place duty to yourself above duties to your Chapter and your Imperium, then I will show you truly what dishonour is."

More dialogue pertaining to the "Space Marines don't retreat" and Arrogance angle.


Page 26

By the gods, the Space Marine commander was clever, thought the Manskinner. Lying and cowardly, perhaps, but clever. The Manskinner was losing his cultists. The seeds of hatred he had sown in them with the words of blood were blossoming, and their bloodlust was drowning everything else in their minds. Without battle, deprived of the joy of fac­ing this enemy who retreated constantly and destroyed his army piece by piece, the Manskinner's men were devolving beyond his control.

..

"Brothers! My brothers, this is the Blood God's final test! For we fight now not to win, or to die, but for revenge! Revenge, for Diess and Recoba and all those slain by deceit! Revenge, for the violation of the Blood God's holy rites of battle by a foe who will not face us! Revenge, like mur­der and massacre, is an aspect of His teaching - but unlike them, it is cold, fought by men purged of all emotion who fight not like animals thirsty for blood but as men acting as one, not charging blindly into the fray but marching side by side, a machine of destruction. This is the Blood God's way, to show us all the joys that bloodshed can bring, the sane alongside the savage, the cold-blooded along"

The Astartes commander's tactics bear fruit. and again we see that the Chaos Champion is rather unusual from many Khornates.

Page 28

Through the scope of his bolter, Athellenas could see the Manskinner himself, at the front of the horde, the massive industrial shears swinging heavily as he ran, eyes no longer those of a leader, but of a fanati­cal follower. That was the key. No one led this horde any more.

Bolter scope. It's interesting that in some cases bolters have scopes, yet in others they seem to be linked into autosenses. The scope doesn't seem like it would have mcuh value, since your average Astartes Bolter usually does not have a stock on it either and can be fired one handed. PErhaps power armor can "lock" briefly to handle recoil and provide stable firing.

Page 31

"Because, Valerian, I do not have to explain my actions to you. As your commander my word is law. I have not achieved this rank through chance. I have been judged by my Chapter to be the individual whose leadership is most likely to result in victory. My purpose is to lead you, and your purpose is to follow. If this breaks down, then all is lost. You will do what you are told, Valerian, and you will not argue. We are Marines. We are Black Templars."

..

"Some of you.’ he said, 'will rise to a position where you, too, will com­mand others from this Chapter. And then you will remember the lesson you have learned here. Above everything, above procedure and mercy, and even above the honour that Valerian held so sacred, there is victory. It is only through victory that you can truly honour the Emperor and your fellow man. To fail is the greatest shame. We have retreated in the face of the enemy, but there is no shame in that, for by doing so we have defeated them. The shame belongs to the Manskinner, for throwing away his chance of victory by fighting alongside animals, not soldiers."

The conclusion which, for me, justifes this as a rather decent and misunderstood story. The key point is that Space Marines value obedience and loyalty more than individual pride or honor, although honor is still important, the definition of honor is not awlays constant.


Page 32

Athellenas's auto-senses switched automatically to night vision as the sun finally set on Empyrion IX.

Auto senses night vision.




Page 35

"Despite my virtues, I was left behind on Caliban by Jonson while he went fighting across the galaxy."
..

"While my brothers fought battle after battle, I was left at home with the invalids, the women and the children! What did I do to deserve such a fate? I was born to go to war, but the Lion and the Emperor turned their backs on me and the others."

Luther's POV on Jonson's treatment. Sad to say but the HH novels seem to justify this some. Jonson is an ass. Then again, accusations of Assholishness can be rather broadly distributed in the HH novels.

Page 36

"Confessor, three years ago I was in the Knight Worlds serving as a mercenary. My unit raided the eldar exodite worlds regularly and I relished the opportunity to spill the blood of such a spineless and decadent race. We went on coundess sorties, hunting down the cowards and slaughtering them as they deserved."

Knight Worlds. The AdMech protectorates who run mini titans as backup for the Titanicus.

Page 39

In the distance, Uzziel could see exodite dragon knights mounting their beasts and preparing for battle. It seemed that his surprise attack was barely a sur­prise at all. The eldar were obviously ready for them and Uzziel could only wonder how. Whether he liked it or not, however, the battle had been joined and was escalating rapidly. He could analyse it later; now he had decisions to make.

They dont know about the Eldar precognitive abilities. It's also worth noting that the Dragon knights have shuriken weapons.

Page 40

As alien warriors frantically lashed their beasts into action, the Thun­derhawk dropped back out of the clouds. Screaming low over the battlefield, the gunship swivelled its multi-lasers at the two clusters of mounted eldar. Deadly accurate pulses of white-hot energy swept over the dragon knights, blowing holes in their elaborate armour and slicing through their raging beasts. The Thunderhawk roared past the decimated eldar battle groups, its mighty engines kicking up dust and debris as it swung around for its next attack.

Thunderhawk air strafing mode. Note that the effects don't sound impressive (EG we're not seeing people blown apart or vaporized or burnt to a crisp) but we dont know much bout the settings or configuration or even a great deal about the effects other than they are slicing and blowing holes of some kind. That tends to leave alot of wiggle room.

Page 41

The bolters, so effective just seconds before, were all but useless in dose-quarter fighting. The eldar drove home their laser lances, blasting Dark Angel power armour open, sending them flying backwards or impaling them on their wicked tips. Others were trampled by dragons, torn apart under clawed feet.

Eldar laser lances. More melee lasers!

Page 41

As the Dark Angels arced over the battlefield, the remaining eldar foot troops brought their shuriken catapults to bear on them.

The air was immediately filled again with vicious discs of razor-sharp metal. Uzziel cursed aloud when Brother Alexius fell from the sky, his armour punctured in a dozen places. The chaplain commended his fallen soul to the Emperor, and added a prayer of thanks for the stout armour that had protected him from the hail of eldar fire.

Shuriken weapons punctured some Marine armor but not the chaplain armour.

Page 41

Filled with righteous fury, Uzziel raised his bolt pistol and unloaded half a dozen shells into the eldar, blasting him right out of hte saddle.

Implied that half a dozen per burst, but in any case the shells knock an eldar out of the saddle without exploding them it would seem. Then again they may have exploded but failed to penetrate.

Page 41

Codicier Ahiezar stood proudly over the smoking skeletons of two knights he had annihilated with crackling blue bolts of psychic energy.

Psyker power reduces two Eldar to skeletons, presumably searing the flesh off. MJ to GJ range depending on extent of "searing" and efficiencies (since its warp magic though, a high degree of efficiency seems reasonable so high MJ - triple digit - is reasonable. IT does not neccesarily have to get to multiple GJ, but it still could.)


Page 43

Uzziel's battle-trained eye could see the horrid tearing wounds of chainswords, the gaping holes that only bolter shells could make, flesh seared by boiling plasma. Countless victims with countless wounds, the eldar dead paced towards him. They said nofh­ing to the chaplain, merely stared in silent condemnation.

damage effects of Space Marine weapons.


Page 45

He tried to unleash a bolt of psychic energy at the Dark Angel, but found his power neutralised by the Space Marine's armour. Uzziel smiled inside his helmet, and silently mouthed a prayer of tfianks for his Aegis suit. He would not fall to this warlock's witchcraft.

Aegis suit negating Warlock powers. Truthfully, I have to wondera bout the implications of this. With direct damage attacks that work via force or energy, where does that go? Dissipate back into the warp? Radiated away? The latter seems a bit unlikely to be honest.

Page 46

As Uzziel continued to gaze at the gleaming weapon, he noticed an inscription on the blade. This is below your notice, Lord Uzziel, an inner voice chided him, and so persuasive was its tone that he almost ignored the battle-worn lettering. But the small cold presence of his conscience pulled at his mind. Looking closer, he squinted to read the ancient letters. Each word pierced him like a dagger to his heart.

TO LUTHER, FRIEND AND COMRADE-IN-ARMS. MAY YOUR FAITH BE YOUR SHIELD. LEJ.

Uzziel staggered back and dropped the sword. Immediately, its treach­erous power was broken, and he realised the full extent of his folly. This was not the Lion Sword, but the Sword of Luther, arch-traitor and most hated of the Fallen Angels. Once a noble weapon, it had been twisted bythe power of Chaos as Luther led the Fallen Angels down their doomed path.

And had Uzziel not felt its power, listened to its lies and been ready to make it his own? How could he have been so blind? Tempted by the very sword that had killed the Lion! The chaplain shuddered with horror, thinking of the Lion's noble sacrifice. What folly! And so many noble eldar dead!

Thoroughly disgusted, steeped in self-loathing, Uzziel carefully sheathed the cursed blade. He would not be tempted again. He would not listen to the now-raging voice. He must, he would deny it!

Nice. Jonson gave Luther a Chaos tainted blade it would seem. With what we know about Fulgrim, it seems awfully interesting that there were so many chaos-tainted weapons floating around during the Great Crusade.

[The Grim Squeaker]

Once a noble weapon, it had been twisted by the power of Chaos as Luther led the Fallen Angels down their doomed path.

Nice. Jonson gave Luther a Chaos tainted blade it would seem.

No... It explicitly says that the weapon became tainted by chaos.
(Quite understandable considering that Luther had enough Chaos Mojo juice pumping through him to fight a Primarch to a standstill)

[Lord Relvenous]

Yep, Grim's got it right. The weapon was corrupted by Luther used it. "Once a noble weapon, it had been twisted bythe power of Chaos as Luther led the Fallen Angels down their doomed path."

I can't remember who wrote the Dark Angels story. Was is C.S. Goto? I ask because the Thunderhawk has multi-lasers instead of its regular armament.

[Black Admiral]

I can't remember who wrote the Dark Angels story. Was is C.S. Goto? I ask because the Thunderhawk has multi-lasers instead of its regular armament.

No, it's a considerably older story, from before Goto joined the BL writing team.

Also - and I apologise in advance if you're not actually complaining about the fact - there are plenty of reasons to criticise Goto's writing, but his decision to kit Mantis Warrior Devastators out with multilasers in Warrior Brood is not one of them; it's actually a pretty neat idea.

[Lord Relvenous]

Multi-lasers just tend to pop up in his writing. They are cool weapons, so I don't mind the fact as much. It was just an idle question, as it would make sense as to why the DA Thunderhawk would be armed with non-standard weapons.

[Connor MacLeod]

Page 50

Mullens was a scarred old bull of a man. He had arrived at the village two years before, still dressed in his patched halberdier's uniform, and I think that my brother and I were only slightly more overawed by him than our parents were.

Even Alderman Fauser was at a loss for words when the old soldier took his hand in a painful, white knuckled grip and allowed the two massive war dogs that comprised the whole of his luggage to sniff his new neighbour's breeches.

In spite of his strange manners and southland accent, Mullens soon became popular in Pasternach. His hounds brought down many a wild boar which he would arrange to be roasted for the whole village in return for his fill of ale. When these feasts were finished apart from bones to gnaw and the dying embers of the fire, he would fill our imaginations with blood-curdling tales of death and glory from his time in the Emperor's great army.

Even more welcome was the fact that he was willing to hire any man who needed the coin. A couple of miles to the west of the village lay a derelict way station with a few neglected fields which Mullens had bought for his retirement. Because he always asked for the villagers' advice, as well as pay­ing their sons to help him, the whole village took some pride in the way that Mullens rebuilt the crumbling stone walls of the gatehouse and cleared the land that it stood over.

Some guardsmen do seem to get returned to planets, or at least SOME planet, to retire. Sometimes they even get returned ot their home planets, depending on your source (or possibly luck.)

Page 54

My blow never landed, nor did it need to. For in that dread moment, knowing my weakness and knowing my faith, the gods heard my rag­ing prayers and struck for me! With a piercing whine and a blinding flash of light brighter than any storm, the corrupt beast in front of me burst apart in a spray of blood. The struggle around me stuttered into silence as man and monster alike looked in wonder at the astonishing, blinding death of my enemy.

bolt round. Obligatory approximate "grenade" level damage (what kind of grenade I'll leave up to individual inteprretation.)

Page 55

As he twisted and swung, the massive burning hands snatched at heads, limbs, torsos. Muscle and bone split asunder at his divine touch into hideous steaming wounds. The stink of burning carrion started to drift through the village.

Power fists.

Page 55

The living were lifted, torn into bloody ruins, and hurled to the gorund. The dead were shredded further, their remains beaten deeply into the wet soil.

Assault cannon by its description.

Page 56

There was to be no escape from the divine wrath of our saviours. Burning spears chased them, found them, and ripped them apart in arcs of blood and fire. The sizzling gore splattered across the splin­tered timber of the stockade in glistening sweeps and curves.

more bolt fire blasting apart what seem to be genestealers or 'nids.

Page 56

The angels stood amongst great banks of corpses, silent and still in the gloom like terrible statues. Even then, covered in gore and stink­ing of burnt flesh, they were beautiful. For one long moment we stood together, angel and boy, in the midst of the carnage. Then, as silently as they had appeared, they faded from our sight and were gone.

Teleporter.

Page 59

The midnight dark closed on Brother-Sergeant Kaelen of the Dark Angels like a fist. The emission-reduced engines of the rapidly disappearing Thunderhawk were the only points of light he could see. His visor swum into a ghostly green hue and the outlines of the star shaped city below became clear as his auto-senses kicked in.

The altimeter reading on his visor was unravelling like a lunatic count­down, the shapes below him resolving into clearer, oblong forms. The speed of his descent was difficult to judge, the powered armour insulating Kaelen from the sensations of icy rushing air and roaring noise as he plummeted downwards.

With a pulse of thought, Kaelen overlaid the tactical schematics of the city onto his visor, noting with professional pride that the outline of the build­ings below almost perfectly matched the image projected before him.

The altimeter rune flashed red and Kaelen pulled out of his drop position, smoothly bringing his legs around so that he was falling feet first. Glancing left and right he saw die same manoeuvre being repeated by his men and slammed the firing mechanism on his chest. He felt the huge deceleration as the powerful rocket motors ignited, slowing his headlong plunge into a con­trolled descent.

- Space marine autosenses light up the helmet visor "green" - indicating night vision mode.

With a mental command the same helmet can also display tactical schematics of a city (or other location, presumably) upon that same visor, including overlaying the schematic with a real-time image for comparison.

Also stealth features on a thunderhawk (emission reduced engines)

Page 61

Many centuries ago, Valedor had provided a clutch of fresh recruits for the Chapter and the planet's heresy was a per­sonal affront to the Dark Angels. Honour must be satisfied. The Prophet must die.

recruitment centuries ago from this planet. either the DA have lots more planets to draw from or they dont revcruit much. It's interesting to reflect this story and compare it with the Bill King one about the Dark Angels that had the Native American stereotype bent.

Page 61

Short dashes for cover combined with deadly accurate bolter fire had brought them to within eighty metres of the temple doors with no casualties.

...

"You have a good throwing arm on you. You think you can get a couple of grenades through those windows?"

Lucius risked a quick glance over the rim of the fountain he was using for cover and nodded curtly. "Yes brother-sergeant. I believe I can, the Lion willing."

- a Space Marine is capable of lobbing grenades eighty meters through a temple window (not sure if this is floor level or a higher storey window, though.) Also bolter range of greater than eighty metres, although this should be utterly unsurprising.


Page 61

Each tiny rune on his visor that represented one of his men blinked once as they acknowledged receipt of the order

- helmet visors show status indicators of the other men in a Space Marine squad (at least in the Sergeant's helmet)

Page 62

Lucius stood, lithe as a jungle cat and powered a frag grenade through each of the windows either side of the cathedral doors. No sooner had the last grenade left his hand than the heavy blast of a lascannon disintegrated his torso. The heat of the laser blast flashed his super-oxygenated blood to a stinking red steam

If it turned his blood to steam it almost certainly vaporized much of his upper body. Assuming 50-80 kg for an astartes (roughjly half the upper body, ignoring arms and head and given Astartes dimensions) the water content alone being turned to steam is going to be ~78-140 MJ. Armor could significntly increase that if it too was vaporized, so we can say the value is somewhere between 100-1000 MJ or so, within an OoM. That is not a precise figure either, but just a generalization of "somewhere be hundreds of megajoules to gigajoules" - IF most or total vaporization occured.

Since the quote isn't 100% specific (and since someone will object to me posting yet another "vaporize" quote and taking it literally), it is possible that only partial vaporization (less than 50%) occured. Which could be achieved by single digit MJ most probably (at least for the fleshy part. The armor obviously would increase the output) with partial vaporization (which increases it by an unknown degree. We already know a tank lascannon is rated at 4 MW from Inferno! magazine (at least pert recharge rate) so it is not unresonable. Of course, how most of the flesh could simply be pulverized and have his blood only evaporated... I'd love to hear that explanation.

Page 62

Kaelen's powerful legs covered the distance ot the temple in seconds..

Assuming the 80 metre figure from before, they covered nearly 100 metres in seconds. I think its pretty safe to figure that its more than just a few seconds though. Say maybe between 5-15 m/s (they're at least several times faster than normal humans at a run, but I doubt they can handily outrun tanks or other vehicles.)

Page 62

Automatically, he snapped off a pair of grenades from his belt and hurled them through the smoking windows. The Shockwave of detona­tion shook the cathedral doors and he vaulted through the shattered window frame, snapping shots left and right from his bolt pistol.

Inside was a blackened hell of smoke, blood and cooked flesh. Bodies lay sprawled, limbs torn off, skeletons pulverised and organs melted.

Results of the grenades. Implied significant thermal as well as shock/blast and frag effect. Double digit MJ perhaps based on melting and reduced to skeletons, but then again these might be some sort of dual purpose HE/Incendiary weapon, or somethign exotic (like Ben Counter plasma. *snicker*)

Page 62-63

Kaelen saw Brother Marius falter, a lucky shot blasting a chunk of armour and flesh from his upper thigh, staining the dark green of his armour bright red.

..

Marius propped himself up against the walls. The bleeding had already stopped, the wound already sealed. He would fight on, Kaelen knew. It took more than a shattered pelvis to stop a Dark Angel.

Was a laser shot I recall but not sure. Assuming a normal human pelvis and going by my favorite laser death ray peak intensity calculator for bone (ignoring flesh and/or gristle, and the genreall toughness of AStartes.) double digit KJ could eaisly cover this. 100 kj or so would likely shatter most of the pelvis. Again, not unreasonable for a lasgun shot to achieve.

Page 63

Chaplain Bareus swung the crozius in a brutal arc, crushing bone and brain.

Crozius damage.

Page 64

Brother Marius fell, a power maul smashing into his injured hip. Hands held him down and an axe split his skull in two. Yet even though his head had been destroyed, he shot his killer dead.

Resilience of Dark Angel - even if his head is split they live long enough to kill the killer. Probably a useful trait since it can allow them to execute any (brief) action they need to even if they die doing it.

Page 64

Before he could answer, roaring gunfire hammered through the cloisters. Brother Caiyne and brother Guis fell, heavy calibre shells tearing through their breastplates and exploding within their chest cavities. Brother Septimus staggered, most of his shoulder torn away by a glancing hit, his arm hanging by gory threads of bone and sinew. He fired back with his good arm until another shot took his head off.

Heavy bolter rounds vs Dark angels. Not pretty.

Page 64

A shell tore downwards through the side of Kaelen's helmet. Redness, pain and metallic stink filled his senses, driving him to his knees. He gasped and hit the release catch of his ruined helmet, wrenching it clear. The bul­let had torn a bloody furrow in the side of his head and blasted the back of the helmet clear.

Miraculously it didnt seem to do any head injuries aside from the graze. Not sure I would call this "typical" though.

Page 64

A booted foot thundered into the side of his head. He rolled, lashing out with his power fist and a cultist fell screaming, his leg destroyed below the knee.

power fist demolishes a cultist's leg rather spectacularly.

Page 67

A dome of utter dark­ness rose above them as the horrifying bulk of the creature before the Space Marines turned to face them with giant, slashing strides. Perhaps it had once been a dreadnought. Perhaps it had evolved or mutated in some vile parody of a dreadnought. But whatever it was, it was clearly a beast of pure evil. Even Bareus, who had fought monstrous abominations before, was shocked at the terrifying appearance of the bio-mechanical killing machine. Fully six metres high, the creature stood on four splayed, spider-like legs of scything blades, that cut the air with a deadly grace. A massive, mechanically muscled torso rose from the centre of the bladed legs and clawed arms, lightning sheathed, swung insanely from its shoulders, upon which was mounted an ornately carved heavy bolter. At its back, a pair of glittering, bladed wings flapped noisily, their lethal edges promising death to any who came near.

The bio-machine's head was a pulped mass of horribly disfigured flesh. Multiple eyes, milky and distended, protruded from enlarged and warped sockets. Its vicious gash of a slobbering mouth was filled with hundreds of serrated, chisel-like teeth and its skin was a grotesque, oily texture - the colour of rotten meat.

a sort of chaos dreadnought maybe.


Page 68

A silver blur lashed from the monster A casual flick of its bladed leg licked out and eviscerated Brother Mellius quicker than the eye could fol­low. His shorn halves collapsed in a flood of red, but his bellows of pain were drowned by the Angel's hateful shrieks. The baroque heavy bolter mounted on the beast's shoulder roared and blasted the remains of Mel­lius apart.

the heavy bolter blows marine apart.

Page 68

He sprinted across the courtyard as the rest of his squad spread out and leapt in front of the rampaging machine, a brilliant burst of blue-white lightning arcing from his power fist as he struck at the beast's face. A cor­uscating corona of burning fire enveloped its huge frame as the lethal power of Kaelen's gauntlet smashed home. Its deformed flesh blistered and sloughed from its face, exposing a twisted metallic bone structure beneath.

power fist vs mutant Dreadnought.

Page 68

Heavy bolter shells spat from the shoulder-mounted gun, hammering into his legs and belly, driving him to his knees.

One shell managed to penetrate the cracks in his armour and he screamed, white hot fire bathing his nerves as the shell blasted a fist-sized hole in his hip, blood washing in a river down his thigh.

heavy bolter shells strike the Dark Angels sergeant, the impacts having enough recoil to knock him back/down.

Also note that these bolts fail to penetrate, wheras the "Heavy calibre" shells from before did. Since Heavy bolters are usually ~1 inch diameter, this probably means the aofrementioned ugn was probably greater than 25-30 mm in calibre.

PAge 70

A writhing, pulsing thing with a grotesque peristaltic motion. He closed his fist on the fleshy substance of the monstrosity's heart and screamed as he released a burst of power within the bio-machine's shell.

The monster convulsed as the deadly energies of the power fist whiplashed inside its shell, blue fire geysering from its exhausts. Its legs wobbled and the massive beast collapsed, sliding slowly to its knees. A stinking black gore gushed from every joint and its daemonic wailing dimmed and at last fell silent. Kaelen wrenched clear his gauntlet, a gri­mace of pain and revulsion contorting his features as the lifeless Angel of Blades toppled forwards, a mangled heap of foetid meat and metal.

Power fists in this case seem to be specifically designed to release destructive pulses of energy to inflict daamge, rather than just blunt force trauma.

Page 70

Bareus swiftly drew his bolt pistol and fired off the entire clip at the robed figure. As each shot struck, a burst of light flared around the man, but he remained unharmed. Kaelen could see the faint outline of a rosarius beneath his robes. The small amulet would protect the Prophet from their weapons and Kaelen knew that such protection would be almost impossible to defeat.

- Rosarius stops an entire clip of bolt pistol rounds.

Page 71

Sneering, he descended the steps to stand before the interrogator chaplain, pulling a thin chain from a pouch around his waist. Attached along its length were several small polished blades, each inlaid with a fine tracery of gold wire. Bareus's eyes widened in shock and he reached for his hip scabbard, drawing an identical blade.

"You call these weapons Blades of Reason. Such an irony. It is as much a badge of office to you as your crozius, is it not? I have eleven here, each taken from the corpse of a Dark Angel chaplain. I will take yours and make it an even dozen."

Blades of reason. A kind of power weapon, perhaps.

Page 72

The neural wires inscribed in the blades shrieked fiery electric agony along Kaelen's nerves, and he howled as raw pain flooded every fibre in his body. His vision swam and he fell to the ground screaming, the blades still lodged in his side.

the nasty side effect of blades of reason.

Page 73

Cephesus's chest disintegrated, his armour split wide open by the forcee of the powerful blow. Kaelen's power fist exploded from his back, shards of blood and bone spraying the arena's floor.

Power fist explodes a space marine's chest.

Page 75

Sergeant Hakon spoke evenly but Sven could tell that the rogue trader's mockery had touched a nerve. Hakon was a proud old warrior, passed over for Terminator duty, and it rankled to have to serve under this fop­pish aristocrat, supervising a bunch of scouts on their first training mission. Still, he was a Space Wolf to the bone and had to obey.

This can't be the Hakon from the Space Wolf novels.

Page 78

The guards were probably too scared to travel in this rust-bucket they call a boarding torpedo. By the ghost of Leman Russ, I can't say I blame them.

normal troops use boarding torpedoes too it would seem.

Page 78

Each Marine fell silent as he con­centrated on the prayers necessary to activate his armour.

Sven knew that his suit was well-maintained. He had carried out all the maintenance rituals himself, washing the armour with scented oils while intoning the Litany Against Corrosion, greasing the articulated joints with blessed unguents, checking the pipes of the rebreather with coloured smoke from an auto-censer. He believed firmly in the old Space Marine saying, if you look after your equipment it will look after you.

Yet it went deeper than that. He knew that the armour he had been given was really only loaned to him. He felt a sense of reverence for the ancient artefact. It had been worn by a hundred generations of Space Wolves before his birth and would be worn by a hundred more after his death. He was part of a family of Wolves that stretched off into the fath­omless future. When he touched the armour he touched the living history of his Chapter.

Intersting that Space marine scouts had full power armor here, implying they already had their black carapace and shouldn't be "scouts." Special reason why they might be exceptions to the rule?

Possibly some scouts use some sort of "semi powered" intermediate or light power armor that doesnt rely on Black Carapace?


Page 78

Each, like him, had undergone the years-long basic training of the Space Marine. Each, like him, had undergone the implantation of the various bio-systems that had transformed them into a superman far stronger, faster and more resilient than an ordinary mortal.

- Space Wolf cadets (scouts?) receive a certain amount of bio-system implantation. They are "far stronger and faster and more resilient than an ordinary mortal",. but of course they are nowhere near Space Marine level, either.

Page 79

He was aware how much he relied on this armour for protection. ITs ceramite carapace to protect him from heat and cold and enemy fire. Its auto-sensory systems that let him see in the darkness. Its recycling mechanisms that let him breath in hard vaccuum and survive for weeks on his own reconstituted excrement.

Protective and life support functions of power armor.

Page 79

He fitted the comm-net ear-bead into place and checked the position of the speaking circlet over his larynx. He bowed his head and prayed that the ship's Tech-Adepts had taken as much care of the equipment as his order's own lay-brothers would. Once inside the alien artefact it might be his only means of communication with his fellow scouts.

Armor comm system.

Page 79

He pushed his hands together in prayer, feeling the muscle amplification of the suit's exoskeleton lend him the strength of dozens.

Scout armor (or full power armour) lends sven the "strength of dozens" through the suit amplification.

Page 79

With an act of will he switched his hearing from normal sound to comm-net pickup. The sub-vocalised activation litanies of his companions rang in his ears, interspersed with the comms chatter of the ship's crew.
"Helmets on." the sergeant said. In turn the Space Marines donned their protective headgear. One by one, each gave the thumbs up sign. When his turn came Sven did the same. He felt the click of the helmet lock as it slid into place. Targeting icons appeared in his sight underneath the Gothic script of his head-up display. All the read-outs were fine. He gave the sig­nal. The sergeant put his own helm on last.

targeting icons on the helmet display as well as adjustable hearing and subvocalised commands.

Page 79

The external temperature dropped sharply; a frost-blue icon flashed an appropriate warning. It clicked for three heartbeats to indicate a lack of air-pressure. There was another click from the neckband of the armour. Sven knew that his helmet had locked into place and could not now be removed until his suit had checked the atmosphere and found it safe for breathing.

- the Space wolf armour suit automatically seals itself against depressurization/zero gravity, and is able to automatically detect for atmosphere to know when its safe.

Page 80

As it receded, the turrets that studded its exterior became visible, then the whole ship from winged stern to dragon-beaked prow. The sheer size of
the ship was obvious from the hundreds of great arched windows, each of which Sven knew was the length of a whaling ship and taller than its mast. The rogue trader's ancient vessel dwindled until it was nearly lost amid the stars, just one point of light among many. In the flickering green forward monitors, the alien object swelled ominously in size.

Implies a ship many kilometres (miles) in length, given how long a whaling ship/longship might be.

Page 80

From each fold of the wall protruded thousands of multicoloured cilia, each metres long and as fine as titanite thread.

some sort of super industrial metallic thread I imagine.

PAge 80

Sven blinked and his second, translucent eyelids dropped into place, filtering the light back to a manageable level. His armour's glowlamps dimmed automatically as the ambient light increased.

power armor has lamps, and Space marines seem to have multiple eyelids for visual protection.


Page 81

The atmosphere icon on his display flashed green three times and then settled. There was a click as the neck-lock of his helmet released. Sven advanced into the alien vessel, flexing his knees to compensate for the gravity shift. The ship seemed to be generating its own internal gravity with centripetal force from its rotation. Even so, Sven felt as if he were only half his normal weight.

Again power armor has its own automatic sealing functions and atmospheric sensors.

Page 81

Suddenly, something lashed past him and stung his face. He flinched and reflexively swung his pistol up and fired. The bolter kicked in his hand as it released its missile. In the brief second between pulling the trig­ger and watching the thing explode, he caught sight of what looked like a metre-wide jellyfish, drifting parachute-like on the air currents. His face went numb as bio-systems moved to cope with the toxin.

If we knew distance we might estimate bolt velocity/

PAge 81

He moved over to Sven and passed a medical amulet over the wound. The small gargoyle headed talisman did not flicker. It gave no warning chime.

- "medical amulet" - some kind of medi-scanner.

Page 82

At every turn and junction they left comm-link relays. These kept them in touch with the Spiritus Sancti and served as navigation bea­cons.

comm link relays seem an important means of maintaining communications and providing fixed reference points on a 'nid ship.

Page 83

He fingered the hilt of his mono-molecular knife uneasily and recited the comforting words of the Imperial Litany to him­self

monomolecular knife.

Page 87

He hefted his knife, admiring its fine balance, and touched the rune that activated the mono-filament element. Egil knew that it could slice the bonds between actual atoms if he wanted it to. In his secret heart he hoped that he would have a chance to use it.

- "Mono-molecular" knife.. unlike others (EG blood angels novels) these seem to have a powered edge. Similar to the combat blades the Luna wovles used in "Horus Rising" or a vibroblade perhaps.

Page 88

Sven saw the strange sneering smile appear on Egil's youthful face and he shuddered. He wondered what was going on. All of his companions seemed to be behaving a little oddly. He wondered whether it was simply the strangeness of the place combined with the feeling of danger that was bringing out hidden facets of their personality or whether there was some strange force at work here.

Tyranid hive ships apparnelty can affect the minds of those who invade it.

Page 88

Sven brought his bolt pistol up to cover him, focusing down the sight. As the sergeant filled the cross-hairs it occurred to Sven how easy it would be to kill him. A life was such an easy thing to end. All he would have to do is squeeze the trigger...

Sven shook his head, wondering where the thought had come from. Had something outside tried to influence him or was some long con­cealed flaw in his own personality come to light. He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on his duty to provide support for Hakon.

Again.. defense mechanism.

Page 91

Sometimes strange hungers and longings flick­ered through his mind and Njal felt himself roused by alien lusts and desires: flashes of bizarre, inhuman memories, views seen through a myriad infra-red receptors, sounds overheard by organic radio antennae, the incom­municable sight-smell of pheromone analysers.

'Nid sensory devices.

Page 92

The pistol roared and kicked in his hand. The monster exploded in front of him as the shells slammed into its alien body. Yellow phosphorous light limned its corpse as gobbets of meat were thrown everywhere by the explosion.

multiple shells blowing apart 'Nids.

Page 92

Without thinking he pulled the trigger and as his target flew apart, he re-aimed and fired, re-aimed and fired.

more bolter fire blowign apart 'Nids. stick of dynamite/grenade level damage, approximately.

Page 92

The light-trails of his bolter shells balzed towards their targets. The creepers were blown asunder, their shells cracked; burning meat oozed form within.

Implied he shells have thermal as well as blast effects.

Page 92

Gunnar wheeled from the hip, his heavy bolter swivelling with him. His hand pumped furiously on the trigger mechanism. Short controlled bursts stitched across the oncoming tide of creepers, tearing them in two.

heavy bolter vs nids.

Page 93

He flicked out his knife activating it and as the creature rushed at him, rearing to use its claws, he slashed it across the chest horizontally. Then, with a backhand sweep, he cut it again vertically

again monoknives need to be activated.

Page 95

A company of assault troops had taken part in the ground action on Calth IV, facing the giant monsters and their legions of hideously mutated bio-killers. Afterwards, the tyranids had swiftly decomposed as mortuary micro-organisms devoured their bodies, preventing proper forensic analysis.

a self destruct mechanism in 'nid bodies to help prevent analysis, it would seem.

Page 95

The theory was that the tyranids were an immeasurably old, extra-galactic race; they drifted from system to system via a network of warp gates

Early nid theories. They've ran from using the warp directly to some fancy gravitic warping thing.

Page 95

They had muscle-engined living chariots to carry them into battle. Their guns seemed to consist of clusters of symbiotic organisms that fired hard-shelled organic bullets or acids. Their starships were vast, living creatures, true space-going leviathans that swamed the unknowable currents of the warp.

This seems to be something of a different Tyranid than we knew, if they had living vehicles to carry them into battle.

Page 95

They had an organised, powerful society, most of which worked on principles incomprehensible to or indecipherable by Imperial scholars. Hive Fleet Behemoth had been totally inimical to mankind. It devastated an entire sector in its sweep through the galaxy. It had shredded worlds. Legions of its creatures had dropped on plague-weakened planets, carry­ing entire populations into the maw of the motherships, never to be seen again. They had dropped asteroids on some worlds, and brought many others to their knees with deadly biological contaminations.

- Mention of Tyranids using biologicla warfare as well as dropping asteroids on inhabited planets.

Page 95

It had taken a full military mobilisation of the Imperium to stop hive fleet Behemoth.

Not quite. Two full segmentums so far, and thats for multiple Hive Fleets. Which is quite a bit of course, but nothing so dramatic or catastrophic (yet) considering how oftne the Imperium has lost whole segmentums at a time and still endured.

Page 96

The gun in the tyranid's claws gave out a hideous grinding sound. The sacs at its base pulsed and then a stream of shrapnel and steaming acid belched forth. A terrible acrid stench filled the air. Something burned Egil's cheek as he dove aside. He gritted his teeth against the searing pain and rolled behind one of the nodes of cartilage protruding from the floor.

Fleshborer, I think.

Page 97

Egil lay behind a mound of flesh on the floor. His face had been horribly burned by acid, revealing bone and some scorched muscle. Near him lay a dead tyranid. Its ribcage had been torn open by the explosive blast of a bolt shell. Egil looked at them and gave a thumbs-up sign.

- Tyranid has its ribcage blasted open by a bolt pistol round.

Page 97

Sven heard Gunnar working the pump action of his heavy weapon and behind him the whole vast chamber was illuminated by the incandescent blast of a Hellfire shell. Shadows danced around the bony ridges. Two tyranids caught fire, seeming to perform a horrific dance of death in their final agonies.

Gunnar worked the Hellfire action repeatedly, laying a carpet of fire between the tyranids and Egil.
'

HEllfire round. Seems to have incendiary as well as acidic qualities.

Page 98

Even as Njal tried to dismiss these thoughts as coming from an inimi­cal, external source, another idea filtered into his confused brain. Perhaps the group-mind might even spare them, welcome them as a slave-race, let them live and adapt them to dwelling within the breast of the hive-fleet. Then he would be safe, comfortable, welcome.

'Nid psychic powers try to manipulate the marines into surrender.

Page 99

Sven finished spraying Egil's face with field dressing. He took a deep breath, revelling in the cool disinfectant tang of the stuff, a momentary release from the revolting stink of the place. He hoped that the antisep­tic synthetic flesh would be enough to keep the berserk going till he could be got to an apothecarion.

Medical field dressing spray.

Page 105

Hauptman watched as the plasma-bombs raked the tyranid craft from end to end. Within scant moments the organic ship was utterly destroyed. As Hauptman stared in rapt fascination, the solar wings so recently unfurled tore off and drifted into space. The men in the Spiritus Sanctis turrets used them for target practice. He saw the look of satisfaction on Sven's face as he watched the alien artefact being cleansed.

plasma bombs, and solar wings/

Page 105

"Before it died, it sent out a signal of enormous psy­chic power. It was tightly focused in the direction of the Magellanic Cloud but it was so powerful that I picked up its overspill."
"It was a signal, shipmaster. It was summoning something. Something big."

'Nid ships apparently can send astropathic like signals without soul binding, given how far the Magellanic Cloud is.


Page 109

The audience of eldar renegades, many hundreds of thousands strong, sat in great serried ranks, their pale alien faces shining

at least hundreds of thousands of Dark Eldar in one CAbal on Cormorragh. REgular Eldar ought to be more numerous.

Page 111

But Yae's wyches were truly vital to him. Uergax and the Kabal of the Blade's Edge were threatening to shatter the delicate savagery of his ter­ritory. But those were matters for his court. He tried to concentrate on the entertainment at hand; it had, after all, been put on specifically for him. Such honour was really born of fear, of course, but on Commor­ragh fear and honour were much the same thing.

I quote this merely to indicate that it seems likely that the numbers esitmated above for the Dark Eldar audience probably represent a lower limit, since it may be one Kabal's troops.

Page 114

Von Klas looked from the knife to Verredaek's sightless eye-sockets, and saw his mistake. This was how he managed to torture his victims without strapping them down or tying them up. Those desperately empty caverns, the ridges of desiccated skin picked out by the harsh light, seemed to bolt him to the ground and drain his limbs of strength.

Dark Eldar torturer seems to have hypnotic gift. Avoid the eyes and you can fuck em over.

Page 114

His superiors had decided that von Klas was officer material, but he had never been a greatly distinguished officer, never led charges that shattered armies, never held the line against awesome odds. He had the medals they give commissars as a matter of course, and nothing more. He might have been in effective command of twenty thousand men, but in the Imperium that made him one amongst a million.

Commissar leading one regiment "amognst million" implying 20 billion troopers.

Page 114

For a second, Verredaek's hypnotic aura was broken as von Klas made his vow to survive. He closed his eyes, and his body was his own again. He would not get a second chance.

AGain, breaking eye contact hampers the hypnotic effects.

Page 114

The commissar grabbed Verredaek so he would not fall, and spun both of them around, just as the eldar guards began to shoot. One shot sprayed Verredaek across the back, his skin splitting and bursting like a rotten fruit under the assault of a hundred splinters of crystal. The second caught von Klas on the shoulder, a glancing blow but one that drove a dozen splin­ters deep into the muscle.

100 splinters shot in a second or so from a single gun.

Page 115

And the splinters that had hit him, though they were sending occasional flashes of pain mrough his muscles, had still left him alive. Not very efficient, he thought coldly. The torturer's gun might prove more useful. He prised it from Verredaek's dead hands. It was oddly light, and very strange to look at, with a barrel so slender only a needle, surely, could be fired out.

Dark Eldar needler type weapon?

Page 116

As three other Guardsmen emerged, stumbling and confused, von Klas levelled Verredaek's pistol to defend them. He fired at the first hint of pur­ple and silver that came round the corner, tiny darts leaving a glittering trail as they raced for their target.

There was a strangled cry and the first renegade eldar pitched forward, clutching at the shattered mask of his helmet. As his cries became garbled howls, the warrior convulsed, his body splitting and twisting as it was ripped apart. Hot blood and shards of bone spattered and ricocheted across the walls.

the aformentioned needle weapon. Nasty.

Page 119

"On your Hydraphur, a million men live within sight of one another."

Rough idea of population density on Hydraphur/

Page 119

Scleros was a lexmechanic, his brain adapted to allow him to absorb a huge amount of information, produce calculations and battlefield reports. His augmentation was belied by the intricate web of silver tracery surrounding his artificial right eye.

Lexmechanic.


PAge 120

"You have the scar on your wrist where the machine makes your blood mad."

Kep shrugged and held up his hand. Von Klas could see the scar where a frenzon dispenser had once been implanted. "Guilty. I am from the First Penal Legion."

"The First?" Rahimzadeh said with a hint of awe in his voice. "The Big One?"

Frenzon implantsm, and a renowned penal legion.

Page 120

"Standard practicee - if eldar pirates show up you feed them the penal legion. They get their slaves, the Imperium ditches a few more scum, everyone's happy."

I'm pretty sure that in theory this is illegal by Imeprial rules, but people probablhy do it anyhow.

Page 120

Von Klas looked round at Scleros, the remaining soldier. The lexme-chanic, as he expected, had no expression. "You had the surgery?"

The thick rain sent strange trails across the circuitry on Scleros's face. "Emotional repression protocol, sir. It allows me to deal with information of an ideologically sensitive nature."

Lexmechanics get the same surgery TEchGuard do.

Page 120

Scleros held out a hand and let a little of the rain collect in his palm. It swam with grey trails of impurity. "We should get out of the rain. This could infect us."

acidic rain on Cormorragh

Page 121

Sybarite Laeveq gazed down from the gantry at the immense metallic beast, powered by the exertions of the many hundreds of deliriously ema­ciated human slaves that were chained to its pneumatic limbs. Great clouds of acrid smoke and steam from the huge cauldron of molten metal obscured their faces, and Laeveq felt as if he were striding in the clouds, a god looking down upon the wretches who both feared him and needed him to survive.

Factory run by slaves of dark Eldar. One wonders if they need such because they dont use psychic engineering, or if they do it just to be assholes.

Page 123

Kypselon gave his order in a stern, quiet voice, knowing it would be transmitted into the very consciousness of every eldar under his control.

(Dark) Eldar use psychic communcations to coordinate activtieis. Or at least powerful Eldar (or Dark Eldar) do.


page 125

"Your Raiders turned up as blips on our scanners." said the human who called himself a commissar. "Seventy-two hours later, the only survivor of seventeen whole platoons was me, but Ihad my orders. I was to eliminate any threats and a commissar either fulfils his orders or dies. I fulfilled mine."

He looked Kypselon deep in his unknowable alien eyes. "We humans aren't as stupid as you eldar believe. Remember my words, when Uergax comes to execute us both."

Dark Eldar get shafted (yet again) by forces of Order.

[Lord Relvenous]

The neural wires inscribed in the blades shrieked fiery electric agony along Kaelen's nerves, and he howled as raw pain flooded every fibre in his body. His vision swam and he fell to the ground screaming, the blades still lodged in his side.

the nasty side effect of blades of reason.

AFAIK, that's the purpose, not a side effect. The Blades of Reason are used for interrogation, primarily.

Intersting that Space marine scouts had full power armor here, implying they already had their black carapace and shouldn't be "scouts." Special reason why they might be exceptions to the rule?

Possibly some scouts use some sort of "semi powered" intermediate or light power armor that doesnt rely on Black Carapace?

Because it is the Space Wolves, they do things a little different. Scouts are put right into power armor. They don't spend the time in the carapace. (They're called Blood Claws, but are essentially scouts). After they have proven themselves in combat, they are made Grey Hunters (a full space marine). That would explain why they are armored, but still scouts.

[andrewgpaul]

The Space Wolves pretty much do everything backwards. The Codex progression is Scout -> Devastator -> Assault -> Tactical -> Veteran. The Space Wolves go Blood Claw (assault) -> Grey Hunter (tactical) -> Long Fang (devastator), with the heroic types getting siphoned off into the Wolf Guard and the surly loner types being made Scouts.

However, look at the quotation from page 75:

Sergeant Hakon spoke evenly but Sven could tell that the rogue trader's mockery had touched a nerve. Hakon was a proud old warrior, passed over for Terminator duty, and it rankled to have to serve under this fop­pish aristocrat, supervising a bunch of scouts on their first training mission. Still, he was a Space Wolf to the bone and had to obey.

Either this story was written before 2000 (when Space Wolf scouts were new recruits like everyone else) and the second quotation is unusual, or it was written since 2000 and the first quotation is in error.

[Lord Relvenous]

Yeah, I used the wrong terms in my post. It should have written neophytes, not scouts. The writer could have made the same mistake.

[Black Admiral]

The Space Wolves pretty much do everything backwards. The Codex progression is Scout -> Devastator -> Assault -> Tactical -> Veteran. The Space Wolves go Blood Claw (assault) -> Grey Hunter (tactical) -> Long Fang (devastator), with the heroic types getting siphoned off into the Wolf Guard and the surly loner types being made Scouts.

However, look at the quotation from page 75:

Sergeant Hakon spoke evenly but Sven could tell that the rogue trader's mockery had touched a nerve. Hakon was a proud old warrior, passed over for Terminator duty, and it rankled to have to serve under this fop­pish aristocrat, supervising a bunch of scouts on their first training mission. Still, he was a Space Wolf to the bone and had to obey.

Either this story was written before 2000 (when Space Wolf scouts were new recruits like everyone else) and the second quotation is unusual, or it was written since 2000 and the first quotation is in error.

The story was originally from the anthology Into the Maelstrom, which was published in 1999, so your first posit would seem to be correct.

[Connor MacLeod]

Next installment, including the Dan Abnett Mordian story "The Fall of Malvolon" or however it's spelled.



Page 127

But to be going to war in their dress uniforms, the splendid attire of a bygone era; clumping old-fashioned boots, the traditional white fibre-cloth itching at the neck and cuffs and the gleaming, lovingly polished pectorals, it was ridiculous! No helmets, no webbing. Praise be to the Emperor that they always paraded armed and with a full complement of heavy weapons! But a slight clench­ing of his long fingers was another clue to the colonel's worry as he reflected that ammunition was not plentiful.

Guard Colonel laments not being properly equipped for battle due to parade and pomp.


Page 128

What were they doing here on the agri-world of Luxoris Beta? Colonel Soth was an expe­rienced and well-trained officer but other than the ork pirates his men had defeated to liberate this planet two years previously, he had never faced aliens before. Nor had any of the men. They had manuals, training materials and holo-exercises, but these were not reality. Even the suppos­edly simplistic orks had constantly produced harrowing surprises in action.

IG training methods. The holo exercises are interesting. A sort of VR setup? On an Agri world no less?


Page 129

"As you said yourself, if the cursed eldar realise the irrigation controls are here and they can flood the levels to impede our reinforce­ments, they will certainly attempt to capture the temple."

..

" It is to thank the Emperor for his blessing, in giving us the means to control the irregular rains of this harsh land so that we may offer him this land's bounty. In the short term we may see difficulties. In the long term, the Emperor cares for his children."

agri world irrigation.

Page 129

"But how," he asked sharply, "can a commander exercise proper control without even adequate comm-links?" He tapped the low powered wrist communictor he was wearing to emphasis his point.

wrist communicators are not considered "proper comm links" implying that they may have more powerful or compact models.

Page 130

Praying that the eldar weren't trying some form of jamming against which his own dress-issue communicator would be useless, he barked into his wrist unit.

"dress issue" comm and eldar comm jamming.

Page 131

Crouched under the shadow of a huge sandy-coloured boulder, he hastily conferred with Hoddish and his other staff, while the command comm-link operator - a small, leathery skinned veteran of many anti-pirate operations with the Ulbaran Vlllth - coolly passed them updates from other sections as best as their limited equipment allowed.

comm link operator (vox operator) seems to be considered "limited equipment" along with the wrist comm. Clearly the regiment is used to more extensive gear.

PAge 132

Soth scrutinised the scene down the slope. He didn't even have viewers but Hoddish passed him a lasgun with a targeter and he was able to search for the enemy more effectively.

..


"Pass the order to hold fire until range band amber," he instructed Hod-dish without taking his eye from the targeter. "Heavy weapons to target armour or support troops only!"

lasgun with targeter. Remember that troops are considered not to be "properly" equipped, yet they get targeters here. IT would seem that as far as regiments go this one ends up pretty well teched out.


Page 132

In several places turrets were rising above scrub patches and rocky outcrops and a torrent of heavier fire was poured on the guards. A deadly duel began between the well-placed and concealed cannons of the guards and the bobbing and weaving grav-tanks of the eldar - and all the time the alien infantry pressed gradually closer.

The Guardsmen were taking casualties but the constant drill and prac­tice that Colonel Soth had always insisted on, was paying off. One grav-tank exploded, setting ablaze the patch of scrub in which it had been
inadequately concealed. The smoke drifted across their front and under this cover the strange dreadnought machine ventured out of the gully -only to be caught in a torrent of heavy bolter fire that buckled one of its legs, tumbling it back into the gulch.

Guard heavy weapons vs Eldar.

Page 133

With a painful tear­ing he was brought up, caught fast in a morn bush, staring at the red wall of the passing grav-tank. Too shocked even to aim properly, he raised the meltagun and fired. There was the distinctive hiss and then a crashing as the blast tore into the plates at the rear of the alien vehicle, which whined on by.

Eldar grav tank seems somewhat resilient to melta blast.

Page 134

Lacking his webbing and full kit he had to improvise a dressing with cloth torn from his shirt. Even so, he managed to staunch the bleeding and prepared himself for action once more.

First aid supplies again seem standard issue kit, much in line with the Uplifting Primer.

Page 134

Coated in sweat and dust, a stocky corporal was feverishly stripping the weapon mounting down. His fellow crewman, forearms and tunic front stained with oil, was examining the components closely.
..

"Grit, sir!" the oil-smeared gunner replied. "It was jamming the traverse cog."

Stripped down heavy weapon mounting for a lascannon.

Page 1351-36

As he stood on the gully edge, he unconsciously moved to straighten his uniform, re-adjusting the bronze pectoral on his chest. It was a misplaced gesture of habit - but it saved the colonel's life. As he moved the bronze plate, something slammed into it with a sharp shock and hiss. It was more a reflex action than the impact that hurled Soth back over the lip of the gully.

..

As Soth pulled himself up to where an overhanging thorn bush offered some chance of concealment for a cautious reconnaissance, he glanced at the small, melted hole in the pectoral. He had no doubt that embedded in that hole was a deadly, toxic dart. When the attack had first started he had considered discarding the pectoral but his own sense of neatness and propriety had stopped him. After all, it was part of the regulation dress uniform. The Emperor be praised for his own fastidiousness!

Needle rifle. Doesn't seem to have alot of momentum or penetration, and there is a hole in there (from the laser, presumably).

Page 136

.. but then what of those cameleoline cloaks he recalled from long-past training?

..

Its camouflage was truly incredible, making it almost impossible to spot as, crouching almost double, it crept across the rocks.

Eldar Cameleoline.

Page 136

One pistol-armed Guard colonel in ragged dress uniform against a near-invisible, needle rifle toting and possibly armoured alien?

Implied that the Eldar might have armor resistant to laspistol fire.

Page 137

The colonel had heard rather than seen the eldar fall but by looking carefully he could now make out the body, only partially covered by the concealing cloak. The needle rifle had fallen separately and he could see its oddly graceful stock protruding from some dried weeds.
..

The lowering sun cast strong shadows amongst the harsh tumbled rocks and, even dead and prone at his feet, the camele­oline cloak broke up the eldar's outline in a most disconcerting fashion.

More on the cameleoline..

Page 138

Cursing, he lost his balance as the door seemed to bounce from his foot. What hellish stuff did these aliens build their vehicles from? It cer­tainly wasn't the weighty metal of their own Chimeras!

Wraithbone/psychoplastics aren't recognized by the Colonel.


Page 139

Nibbeth was another veteran, a short man but of the same wiry build as Soth himself. He had a calm sureness in his stance and movement, even on the loose scree, and the colonel noted with interest the sniper's badge on the torn sleeve of his tunic

Guard sniper

page 139-140

Too much was being left to chance! But they had been caught on parade by this ghostly enemy and their options
were severely limited. Not even Tarses had any form of comm-link and Soth judged it prudent that they should operate as one group to maintain contact.

Sergeant and other troopers in dress uniform don't have commlinks. Implies that in other situations they might (like a micro bead)



Page 140

Hoddish had alerted the missile teams and there was little else they could do other than proceed with caution and hope for the best. As they cleared the slopes and moved out onto the flat base of the depression, Soth attempted to use his wrist communicator to raise the Guards sta­tioned at the temple but without success.

..

The missile team should have been contactable with even the short range unit by now and the colonel feared the worst.

the wrist comm at least can contact the missile team, suggesting they have their own comms setup.


Page 146-147

The priest was a powerful man but, for all that, he was no fighter and just as Soth entered, the foul alien heretic managed to break his hold, draw its laspistol and fire. The priest died with a grunt, the shot blasting through his chest. His body shielded the alien and Soth caught only a glimpse of a raised pistol and ghastly, gem-like lenses before there was another spurt of las-fire and the world went black.

Soth was unsure how long he had been unconscious. It couldn't have been more than a few moments as, when he came painfully back to his senses, the alien was still working at the irrigation controls. His chest seemed a mass of searing agony as, with blurred eyes, he watched the eldar working.
..
Wracked with pain, the colonel tensed himself and tried to move. The only result was even more agony somewhere under his ribs and an uncontrollable gasp that hissed from his lips.

Soth gets shot by an eldar laspistol. Seems to be more thermal perhaps but not mechanica (EG his chest isnt blasted open,h e doesnt seem to be bleeding to death, etc.


Page 149

By his wrist-chronometer, it was not yet noon, but the air was warm and clammy.

wristwatch/

Page 150

And once they had got inside, with no answers to their voice or vox calls, it had been so damned hot and humid, like someone had set the environ­ment controls to 'tropical'

enviromental controls inside of a dome habitat thingy. Vox calls as well.

Page 150

Before them lay some kind of hydroponics workshop, with a high, cera-glass roof and metal support pillars rusting in the steamy air. Samples of crops and yield-plants stood in labelled pots and trays and bins all around.

Hydroponics workshops

Page 150

Zwie Company's vox-intercoms spluttered out an overlapping, unintelligible series of ear-splitting cries and yells.

the whole Mordian company seems to have voxes.

Page 151

It was right on Grauss now. He howled and starrted to fire.
Genestealer.

...

He'd killed the thing, blown it apart with his lasgun. It and two more like it.

Lasgun blew apart a genestealer on sustained fire - probably at least several seconds worth of fire.


Page 152

"Then we'll show these alien freaks what Mordian fighting spirit is. There are seventy thousand men from our regiment deployed planetside, not to mention thirty thousand from the Phyrus regiments. General Caen has informed me that armour units are a few hours from landing, and there's even talk of help from the Chapters."

70K regiment, plus 30K in other regiments.


Page 153

Like beached leviathans with screaming, wide mouths, the vast battle-barges squatted on the dry, stony flats of the Nacine Plain, disgorging rivers of armour amid clouds of churned, pale dust. Even from the high
observation mast of the command ship, three hundred metres above ground, General Caen could hear the clank and grumble of the Paladian tanks and fighting vehicles. He swept his magnoculars around and then nodded in satisfaction. Colonel Grizmund was deploying his armour as fast as ordered, faster perhaps. A good, clean dispersal. The sky was a clear blue, and they had visibility to ten kilometres. They wouldn't be caught napping
...
"Reports in from all the evacuation points, sir. Most of the collectives are underway to us in convoy. Tiegl at Collective farm-plex 132.’5 informs you they will be underway by 15.00."

observation mast on the command ship is 300m up. Presumably the landing ship is a fair fraction of this. This Grizmund presumably is no relation to the Narmenian Grizmund.

Also note the location Nacine plain and the collective farm-plex number.


Page 153

The air trembled with subsonic, basso power. A shadow passed over them. Another ten thousand ton bulk transport swung down in to land on the plain, braking jets squirting blue flames.

- ten thousand ton bulk transportt deploying armour vehicles.

Big landign ships.


Page 154

Of course there's something bad coming, you moron! That's why we're here! That's why we were diverted nine days ago with express orders to head for Malvolion! That's why we're busting our humps get­ting a bunch of dirt-scratchers onto transports and away to the uplift! Something bad! Something really bad!

The Guard forces were diverted nine days back to their current assignment.


PAge 155

Gallo entered the main hall of the collective, a dirty, zinc-panelled pre­fab that creaked in the heat. Air-scrubbers chattered fitfully. Gallo had seen the major and two other officers disappear inside an hour before to discuss the final evacuation conditions with the collective's selectmen.

Imperial prefab building. Appears to be for military use as a command base/headquarters.

Page 155

Unnerved, he called in a squad to help him search. Five men, all in heavy Phyrus battledress, clattered in through the entryway to join him

5 man "squad"


PAge 155

Gallo tried to stammer into his vox-link.

Again personal vox links, like the Mordians.

Page 155

His shots punching into the dark, bony plates of the thing's belly and chewed off some splinters of chitin. Then he was in through the doors and running.

Not sure what kind of 'nid it is, cept that its a melee type with arm claws. Might be a hormagaunt, possibly a warrior or something similar. perhaps a lictor. Possibly a genestealer, since they're noted as attacking the rest of the encampment too and nothing else is known.
Here lasgun fire isn't doing much to the thing.



Page 155

It can see us. Even through the walls, it can see our heat!

These 'Stealers appear to be able to see thermal images.


PAge 156

"344.’9! 344.’9"' he rasped. "Incursion! Tyranid incursion! Repeat-"

There was no time to repeat. The genestealers were at the cab windows, on the bonnet, smashing the glass and reaching in.

Though unintelligible and more a sound of pain than real words, Gallo's last transmission was heard six hundred kilometres away at Nacine Plain.

- backpack voxcaster set has a range of at least six hundred kilometers.

Page 156-157

He was about to signal Grizmund's armour brigade, which had left the plain just forty minutes before to turn on a bearing for 132.’5, but the sky went abruptly black.

Wind-borne spores began to winnow down around them, burning flesh and thickening the air.

Caen ran to get below as the first of the atmospheric toxins began killing Mordian troops and navy personnel. Ship landing lights came on automatically as the natural light died, illuminating streams of pelting spores like a black blizzard.

Against the blackness high above, colossal shapes descended. Harridan brood-organisms, the tyranid main dispersal form. Caen had read about them. But to see them, to see their size, smell their downwashed stink... it ruined his mind.

Swarms of winged bat-forms swirled out of them like drifts of fallen leaves billowing on the wind. The gargoyles filled the air, shrieking, tar­geting individual men, membranous wings beating. They executed steep, perilous dives, raking the ground beneath them with the flesh borers they clutched to their leathery torsos. Plasma fire rained down, shrivelling and igniting men as they ran for cover.

'Nid spore-borne warfare and gargoyle attack. Using plasma and flesh borer weapons.



page 157

Rising, the ground shaking, he saw how the corrosive spore-mines were collapsing the superstructure of most of the landing ships. Bulk trans­ports were sagging and melting as they lost integrity. Parts of some exploded outwards.

Spore mines fo an apparently non-explosive variety destroying the 10K ton troop transports.

Page 157

He was distracted by a liquid scream as Hanff, running for cover nearby, was destroyed by mycetic spores, both necrotic and corrosive. A fat, bubbly slick punctuated by cor­roding bone mass was all that remained of him after thirty seconds.

The fleshborer hit Caen in the chest. He writhed and wailed as it quiv­ered and dug and turned the contents of his body cavity into mush.

mycetic spores of several kind kill off a person in 30 seconds, and the effects of a fleshborer on the human chest.

Page 157

The evac convoy was two hours out from 132.’5 when they saw the change in weather patterns a hundred kilometres ahead. A dark stain, like a wash of thunderheads, was braising the distance, widening with every passing moment.
...

"Nacine Plain has gone!" he yelled into his vox-horn. "Our only hope is the main hive at Malvo Height! Turn west!"
Grauss looked at his chart-plate. Malvo Height was a thousand kilome­tres away to the west.

Remember the mention of Tiegl's convoy from 132.5 and the destination of Nacine Plain? Well, this is that convoy. Thus at least 100 km in 2 hours, I believe.. 50 km/hr.

Also the convoy is able to cover 1000 km distance, apparently on their own fuel.


Page 158

Then his tanks started to die. Advancing tides of biovore engines spat spore mines into them, blowing armour units apart or melting them with acid and poison. Overwhelming floods of hormagaunts and termagants skittered forward out of the deluge, completely burying some vehicles under their writhing numbers. The air pulsed with the psychic throb of the tyranid warriors, tall and hideous, as they advanced amidst the smaller monsters. Zoanthropes, glistening like great floating brains, their atrophied limbs clutched to themselves, hovered over the swarms and flashed out lances of energy that blew tanks asunder.

Grizmund saw the twisting, lashing shapes of raveners approaching, and shouted down from his turret for the gun layer and aimer to increase fire.

Then the carnifex was on them. Shrieking, it lacerated two nearby tanks and flicked them aside. The last thing Grizmund saw was mouth of the venom cannon it raised towards his vehicle.

'Nids versus Imperial armor force. Zoanthropes can easily blast tanks apart. Nevermind the Carnifexes or biovores.

Page 159

Femlyn threw Grauss his laspistol, and Grauss fired it wildly. His salvo burst the termagant's neck open in a fountain of noxious fluid and it crumpled off the bonnet.

Brief burst of fire from laspsitol "burst" the termagant's neck. 'Gants are roughly several more times the mass of a human.. call it 10-15 cm for the neck total. They do not completely decapitate said nid so... again the laser death ray page calculator (see before) and assuming a single pulse from a pulsed (microsecond) pulsed laser.. a single digit kj pulse could easily do that in a couple shots - hell a singel kj probably could manage it (although accounting for other organic material like bone could affect that alot, as the calculator indiicates. For example, to blast the same diameter/depth of bone as with meat requires literally hundreds of times the energy input, assuming all other parameters remain the same. A continuous pulsed laser (or lots of smaller shots) could downgrade this some (say double digit kj, depending on how many pulses you figure on). And, of course, the 'Nid isn't ALL bone, but their dense carapace and skeletal structure would mean a fair fraction of that energy applies.

Also, any possible thermal damage is not accounted for, which alone could (Depending on area burned) add quite a bit more thermal energy. A 10x10 cm arae for example with third degree burns could add 10kj (also covered from the BT short story.)

The actual value probably falls somewhere between the two values for "All meat" and "all bone."


Page 160

The escort vehicles, mounting Hydras and heavy stub-guns, ran alongside the transports, raking the, fields. Mantis killers reared and clacked their talons, disintegrating in drizzles of mucus and chitin as the guns found them. Swarming termagants were smashed under speeding wheels. Hit by multiple fleshborers, a Hydra track span out of control and flew off the road, exploding in a drain canal. Biovore spore mines cramped down, blowing two of the fast-moving transports into fragments.
..

A smaller vehicle drew level with them, matching their speed. It was one of the open, short wheel-base escorts mounting a Hydra battery. Grauss waved the driver past and then fell in behind. A moment later, the Hydra battery was pounding, firing directly ahead of the speeding machine. Grauss saw something big and iridescent explode under the anti-aircraft fire and collapse off the road.

Hydra platforms and similar engage the 'Nids. Not much effect, but the hydra is able to apparently match speed with the convoy (50 km/hr remember) and fire on the move.

Page 160

The convoy's heavier armour - four Chimeras and a half dozen standard pattern Leman Russ tanks in Mordian camo, ,were lagging badly, and found themselves cut off from the fleeing convoy elements.

Hormagaunts overran two fo the Chimeras..

Mordian russes and Chimeras appear able to keep up with the Convoy as well... 50 km/hr, but were eventually outrun. The Gaunts, however can overrun the convoy and even the Chimeras (not surprising considering how fast they ran in Warriors of Utlramar.)

Page 160

Spitting bio-plasma destroyed one tank. The other was struck by some energised flash that looked like green lightning, and blew apart as its munitions ignited.
..

Caught by a trio of lictors, another Chimera tried to turn and was thrown end over end, torn track sections flying. Corrosive spores reduced another of the Leman Russes to tar and semi-solid lumps.

Again 'Nids manage to stomp the Imperial attack vehicles.

Page 160-161

Standing in the back of a speeding escort truck, Colonel Tiegl manned the gun mount himself. Searing, frenzied, red tendrils had just turned his main gunner inside out. He swung the stub-gun on its pintle, squeezing the firing grip, spraying the road behind him with twin, dipping, dragging streams of heavy fire. He was drenched with rain.

There was something in his mouth, something crawling on his skin. Mycetic spores plastered him, eating him away.

By the time his driver fell to a barb-round and spun the vehicle into a trans­port's back wheels with splintering force, there was nothing left of Tiegl but some articulated limb bones dragging from the gun-grip.

Myceptic spores rapidly dissolve another victim.

Page 161

Femlyn was blasting from the cab window with his autogun, and Grauss was firing his lasrifle out the other side. There was no shifting truck 177 now. Vines, thorn-creepers and other fast-growing things had meshed the axles and ruptured the tyres.

'Nid efforts at entangling vehicles.

Page 161

The giant armoured warriors, humanity's finest, deployed from their pods, blasting with boltguns, flamers and meltas. Termagants and hormagaunts exploded beneath the withering firepower. Flamers burned the stinking plant growth away. Gargoyles were blown, ruptured, out of the sky. Grauss saw a ravener convulse and die under a melta's kiss. He saw plasma-fire destroy a mantis killer.

Space MArine firepower easily blows apart the 'Nids. Grenade/TNT level firepower as mentioned numerous times (as a back of the envelope estimate.)

PAge 161

Here, a Marine with a rocket launcher sent up a jinking missile that blew a zoanthrope into flaring specks of matter.

Zoanthrope blasted apart by a missile.

Page 161

Grauss cut down a leaping termagaunt in mid-air, blowing it apartt.

Grauss' lasgun explodes a Termagant out of the air (matter of seconds easy.)

Page 162

The last [Lamenter Space Marine] made it another twenty metres before the relentless zoanfhrope hit him and exploded his armoured form with a vicious stab of energy.

Zoanthrop explodes Space Marine. Given the mass of a MArine and armor (upwards of half a ton in some cases) it can easily be comparable many kgs of TNT.

Page 162

Two Lamenters faced down another carnifex and blew it apart with sus­tained bolt fire. A second later, they were both dismembered by hormagaunts before they could reload.

Must be a pretty damn small Carnifex is all I have to say since most 'Fexes are easily many tons (up to 7-10 tons IIRC), that is some very special ammo (hellfire shells) or they are firng some very heavy bolters cuz it could take upwards of a 100 kg of TNT to blast apart. As I said something is abnormal in this case.


Page 162

Grauss dropped into a foxhole, feeling the undergrowth flourish and twist around him. His body was crawling with parasitic infection. He heard chat­tering.
On the horizon line, most nightmarish of all, the vile ripper swarms were moving in, consuming everything in their path, eating up the world.

The Tyranoforming begins.

[Cykeisme]

Must be a pretty damn small Carnifex is all I have to say since most 'Fexes are easily many tons (up to 7-10 tons IIRC), that is some very special ammo (hellfire shells) or they are firng some very heavy bolters cuz it could take upwards of a 100 kg of TNT to blast apart. As I said something is abnormal in this case.

Yeah, that's pretty weird.

It's probably a mistake of some sort, on the author's part.. I can imagine the Astartes blowing the Carny's head apart with boltfire, but blowing an entire Carnifex apart is going to take a long while, and a lot of ammo

[PainRack]

What were they doing here on the agri-world of Luxoris Beta? Colonel Soth was an expe­rienced and well-trained officer but other than the ork pirates his men had defeated to liberate this planet two years previously, he had never faced aliens before. Nor had any of the men. They had manuals, training materials and holo-exercises, but these were not reality. Even the suppos­edly simplistic orks had constantly produced harrowing surprises in action.

IG training methods. The holo exercises are interesting. A sort of VR setup? On an Agri world no less?

The equivalent of tv training videos?

You be surprised at the amount of "training" that goes on in that manner.

Page 129

"But how," he asked sharply, "can a commander exercise proper control without even adequate comm-links?" He tapped the low powered wrist communictor he was wearing to emphasis his point.

wrist communicators are not considered "proper comm links" implying that they may have more powerful or compact models.

Page 130

Praying that the eldar weren't trying some form of jamming against which his own dress-issue communicator would be useless, he barked into his wrist unit.

PAge 156

"344.’9! 344.’9"' he rasped. "Incursion! Tyranid incursion! Repeat-"

There was no time to repeat. The genestealers were at the cab windows, on the bonnet, smashing the glass and reaching in.

Though unintelligible and more a sound of pain than real words, Gallo's last transmission was heard six hundred kilometres away at Nacine Plain.

- backpack voxcaster set has a range of at least six hundred kilometers.

Not neccessary. There might simply have been secondary comns gear that the vox set patched into, forming a relay station of sorts. Given that astropathic communications is used to coordinate fleet communication by Gaunt Ghosts and the use of specialised vox equipment for a fleet Forward observer in the 13th Legion novel, this is probably the case here.

[Lord Relvenous]

Must be a pretty damn small Carnifex is all I have to say since most 'Fexes are easily many tons (up to 7-10 tons IIRC), that is some very special ammo (hellfire shells) or they are firng some very heavy bolters cuz it could take upwards of a 100 kg of TNT to blast apart. As I said something is abnormal in this case.

Yeah, that's pretty weird.

It's probably a mistake of some sort, on the author's part.. I can imagine the Astartes blowing the Carny's head apart with boltfire, but blowing an entire Carnifex apart is going to take a long while, and a lot of ammo

I suspect it's just sloppy wording, writing "blew it apart" instead of something like "tore it apart with sustained bolter fire". Tearing something apart with bolters isn't that unlikely, as every shot is going to blow off a good bit of flesh, and on full auto from two marines they could put a lot of shots into something.

[Connor MacLeod]

The equivalent of tv training videos?

You be surprised at the amount of "training" that goes on in that manner.

Could be. Then again this is the only exampel I can recall of this off hand. Other cases (EG with the Last Chancers, often) they had to make do with mock ups and make believe. Or (in the Ghosts case) practice drills against each other. Perhaps VR or sim stuff is more common on board ship where space is limited.

Page 129

Not neccessary. There might simply have been secondary comns gear that the vox set patched into, forming a relay station of sorts.

That is possible. 600 km is going to be well beyond LOS for anyone, so they would have to relay or bounce the signal somehow (either up to orbit, or through a primary setup) Then again Ghostmaker did have a Guard issue set reaching orbit with the Navarre so Corbec could order an orbital strike.

Edit: I also remembered the other source I was thinking off. Wargear, from 2nd edition.

Given that astropathic communications is used to coordinate fleet communication by Gaunt Ghosts and the use of specialised vox equipment for a fleet Forward observer in the 13th Legion novel, this is probably the case here.

If they have the astropaths available or they have them attached. Often times they have to rely on a sanctioned psyker to do it on the battlefield (EG Cadian Blood) and sometimes they might not even have that.

Also the forward observer was provided by the Navy to faciliate accurate bombardment. Again contrast this with Ghostmaker (They did the same thing, but the Navy Officer didn't like the fact.) We don't rally know what the specialized gear transmitted (or where it transmitted to) or what.

[Hawkwings]

I haven't read this compilation in a while, but one story in particular sticks out for me, because it was so horrible. Please please please ignore the story "March of the Archeosaurs" (or some similar title to that effect).

As far as comm sets go, I seem to recall quite a few stories with backpack comm sets that could reach orbiting ships.

[PainRack]

[quote=Connor]Could be. Then again this is the only exampel I can recall of this off hand. Other cases (EG with the Last Chancers, often) they had to make do with mock ups and make believe. Or (in the Ghosts case) practice drills against each other. Perhaps VR or sim stuff is more common on board ship where space is limited.[/quote]
The Last Chancers in Kill Team amazement at the "realistic" environment represented by the duplicated Tau training centre suggest that if so, VR/Sim setup is less realistic than the Tau and Admech equivalent. Not a biggie, I seem to recall the real amazement by the penal troopers was the presence of fresh air and real soil.

[Connor MacLeod]

The Last Chancers in Kill Team amazement at the "realistic" environment represented by the duplicated Tau training centre suggest that if so, VR/Sim setup is less realistic than the Tau and Admech equivalent. Not a biggie, I seem to recall the real amazement by the penal troopers was the presence of fresh air and real soil.

yeah. Of course the Tau are way off on the edge of the galaxy, and tech levels being what they are in 40K, it's quite possible that one sector or even whole region of the galaxy may be used to the sorts of technology that someplace else (such as Ultima Segmentum) consider fantastical or "lost". This is probably especially true of the areas close to Tau space, where
logistics and trade were arguably more difficult and the stuff less common (especially now that the Astronomican is "failing")

For example, some highly advanced and high-end Hive World might use holographic/VR training because Hives tend to be of a generally higher tech level than most other worlds (though not all, and certainly not Forge Worlds) and because space would be at a premium. But some other planet (like an Agri World, or a civilised world) might not use it because of available space, doctrinal values, or whatnot - even if they HAD the tech.

[Connor MacLeod]

Next "LtGB" anthology entry. Notable story here is the "Deus Ex Mechancius" which is Necron meet AdMech. I also like the Magos character in this one.

Also start of part of a Graham McNeill short story featuring Snowdog and his gang, which IIRC were featured in "Warriors of Utlramar" as supporting characters.

Page 163

Hoarse screams and the screech of tortured hot metal filled the air. Mas­sive laser blasts were punching into the spaceship. They superheated the air that men breathed, set fire to everything that could burn and sent fire­balls exploding through the crowded passageways.

Effects of starship laser weapons on starship.

Page 163

Imperial Guardsman Floscan Hartoum found himself in a crowd of jostling, panicking men. Minutes before, the men of the Aurelian IXth regiment had been ordered to the armoury to collect their lasguns and short-swords in case the enemy should manage to teleport aboard.

fear of a teleport attack, and use of lasguns aboard ship (something that is supposed to be risky due to damage to delicate gear and whatnot. IT may depend on the yield of the gun though. A low energy-high power attach relying on mechanical damage may be relatively safer than a higher energy burst.

Page 163

Floscan stood, shaking, hearing the fireball slam against the steel parrtition, accompanied by the agoanised shireks of his comrades who were being incinerated.

Fireball created IIRC by another laser blast to the ship. Apparently even if the ship can stand up to the hits, the crew can still be fuckd over by vaccuum, thermal effects, etc.

PAge 164

They had set upon the flotilla of troop transports, clumsy barges only lightly armed, as it emerged from the warp to take its bearings. The result was utter carnage. The makeshift character of the ships identi­fied their crews as orks, who did not build spacecraft themselves but used whatever they could capture or scavenge from other races. How they must have roared with savage delight to see units of the Imperial Navy materi­alise unsuspectingly before them!

Now the flotilla's escorting battlecruiser Glorious Redeemer hove into view, a massive structure with baroque, gargoyle-encrusted spires and weapons turrets which were gouting plasma as it attempted to defend the troopships. But it was heavily out-gunned and had been taken by surprise. Half a dozen ork ships had surrounded it and their armament was tearing it to pieces, great crenellated chunks spinning off into space.

Half a dozen ork ships outgun a battlecruiser, escorting a transport flotilla.

Page 164

It was fol­lowed by a juddering shock that went right through the vitals of the Emperor's Vengeance with a roaring noise. The passageway buckled. From all around came the cacophony of a ship breaking up. They had been hit by a plasma torpedo!

plasma torpedo impacts/detonatons appear to be distinctive enough (or destructive enough) in ship to ship combat to be identified even by a Guardsman.

Page 165

Fragments rattled against the pod as it rocketed away from the disinte­grating troopship. The fierce acceleration drained the blood from Floscan's brain and he blacked out.

troopship appears not to have any artificial gravity or acceleration compensation

Page 165

The flotilla was destroyed, and with it the Aurelian IXth Regi­ment. Of the ork ships there was no sign.

..

Aurelia, where Floscan had been raised, was an agricultural world.

Regiment raised from an agri world.

Page 165

The pod would keep him alive for a few days, and then...

..

There was a planet below him

Lifespan of a life pod. Oddly, the troop fleet must have come out of space damn close to a planet as well, since its not mentioned to have been accelerating towards the planet or anything/

Page 166

He studied the simple controls. Escape pods were manu­factured cheaply, in huge numbers, and were best described as crude. Floscan's training in their use had lasted less than twenty minutes, and he barely knew what to do. Luckily, there was little to understand. There were none of the glowing icons and shining runes that would have embellished more sophisticated equipment. Instead there was, included in the moulding of the control panel, a simple prayer to the Emperor:

Fotens Terribilitas, adjuva me in extremis!
Mighty Terribilitas, aid me in my plight!

Fervently muttering the prayer, he took hold of the control levers. The gyro whined, rotating the pod to point its snub nose at the luminous world. The small rocket engine fired again, drawing on the scant amount of fuel. Floscan was sent hurtling into the planet's atmosphere.

Idiot proof escape pod. Also, indication engines hadn't been fired.. so the ship came out of the warp quite close to a planet.. which is supposed to be very risky most tiems.

Page 166

Despite it being his only way to see outside, Floscan dogged down the porthole's cover once the buffeting began. He wasn't sure the glassite would be able to withstand the heat that would be generated by the fric­tion of the atmosphere.

Apparently the hull can tho. And this is a "cheaply mass produced" drop pod.

PAge 166

The rocket engine had soon ran out of fuel and was silent. Escape pods were supposed to be able to land on a planet automatically, but like everything else about them the arrangements were rudimentary at best, escape for defeated Guardsmen was scarcely high on the Imperium's list of priorities, and Floscan began to feel there was some­thing wrong. Strapped into the acceleration couch, he was being spun around wildly, tossed up and down and jerked from side to side. It was getting very hot, too, making him wish he had cut off the rocket engine sooner. He had hit the atmosphere at too high a speed. The pod's outer layer was supposed to absorb heat and then shed it by peeling away in fragments, but how thick was it? When it was all gone he would be roasted alive. So violent became the descent that Floscan passed out again.

Again indication of the pod's abiltiies (But not neccesarily the occupants) ability to withstand reentry.

Page 167

He tried to stand up and found that he couldn't. He had no internal injuries. It was simply that his body weighed three or four times more than it normally would. He was on a heavy gravity planet. How could he survive if he couldn't even stand up? Guardsman Hartoum struggled to come to his feet. Using his arms, he managed to push himself to a squatting position. Then he heaved with all the strength he could muster in his legs, until he thought the blood vessels would burst.

"God-Emperor, aid me!" Grimacing with effort, Floscan came upright, shaking, feeling the gravity drain him of muscle power and try to drag him down. How long could he maintain himself like this?

- Guardsman lands on a planet with 3-4x Earth's normal gravity. He has difficulty walking or performing actions, but is not severely affectd by the situation. It's not immediately fatal, in any case. I find it hard to believe a person born on say, a 1G world would be able to handle 3-4 times that gravity, even with effort. They could end up weighing quite easily up wards of 800-900lbs, which is a brutal toll on the human body in obese people. I couldn't see it being much better if it were merely gravity.



Page 168

He man­aged to take a few steps, squatted down and lifted the thick wooden shaft off the ground. It was incredibly heavy in his hands, but somehow he heaved himself erect once more and turned to face the enemy, the spear-point held before him.

Again, its difficult for him to function in this heavy grav field, but he can sort of manage, with extreme effort.


Page 169

Floscan spotted what he thought at first was a factory smokestack rear­ing high in the air in the distance, such as might be seen in Aurelia's industrial zone.

Agri world Aurelia has its own industrial zone.

Page 170

Floscan was tossed from his carrier and set on his feet, again straggling to stand against the dragging gravity.

Again, straning against hte gravity, but can sort of walk.


PAge 172

"You have seen what sort of world this is. Where you come from, objects do not weigh very much and one needs only two legs to stand up. Here, everything is heavy. Not only that, but our world is hostile to human life. The ancients who crashed here realised that they would not survive long. But they had powerful magic, and they used this to give their children four legs so that they could stand up. And they gave them stronger muscles so that they could fend for themselves. By this means, our people have conquered adversity and have lived for countless gen­erations, even though we have lost the ancient magic. Surely the Emperor will be pleased with us, and bring us into his family?"
..

Floscan thought hard. If there was any truth in this tale then the quadrupeds' ancestors would have come from Mars, whose tech-priests sent countless ships out into the galaxy during the Dark Age. And yes, they would have had the ability to alter genes in the way Ochtar described as 'magic'.

Extreme AdMech genetic engineering to adapt to a heavy heavy grav world. THat's rather impressive, one really has to grant the AdMech that. I'd also think this means that Floscan himself comes from a fairly heavy-grav world and his body was engineered to take it... explainign everything up to this point. Main difference being he isn't idealized forit.


Page 172

"You are not the first two-legs to come here recently. Magson came. He wanted gemstones. In return, he gave us this. Try it on. It will help you."

Ochtar stood and drew aside a curtain. He brought out something made of a rubbery material. Floscan's eyes widened when he saw it. It was a heavy-gravity suit, designed to make life tolerable on just such a planet as this.

- "heavy gravity" suit, a powered uniform designed to make life on heavy-gravity worlds more tolerable. Apparently uses AG tech.

Page 172

"Magson stayed long enough for me to learn his language." Ochtar continued. "He told us about the Imperium, and about the Emperor who is our God. All our legends were confirmed! We entrusted him with a petition to the Emperor, asking for his rule and guidance. That was years ago. Since then, we have been waiting for you."

From the sound of it, this Magson was a Free Trader. It was most unlikely he had even reported the existence of the quadrupeds to the authorities, let alone forwarded the petition to the Administratum on Terra. Usually such traders heeded no one but themselves.

Magson the Free Trader and his evangelical efforts.

Page 173

For the time being, he switched off the h-g suit to conserve its power. Besides, he needed to build up his mus­cles; eventually he would need to withstand the dreadful gravity.

Floscan thinks that if he has heavy g training he can get usd to the gravity eventually, since the heavy g suit isn't going to have power indefinitely. Heavy G training must be part of Guard raining or something.


Page 174

The quadrupeds were of human stock! During the two campaigns in which he had served, Floscan had seen abhumans. He had seen ogryns and beastmen, degen­erate forms of human of low intelligence. He could not help but compare them with the noble Ochtar. But for his weird lower limbs, he was much more human than they had been. Furthermore, the physical difference had been arranged by the arts of the ancient tech-priests, not left to the vagaries of evolution. Did they not, then, deserve the Emperor's recogni­tion? Yes they did!

- "ogryns and beastmen" fighting alongside the Guard. Its worth noting that apparently AdMech science is such that they can voluntarily mutate human DNA (making centaur-like humans who can survive on this high-g world.)

I also have to wonder what sort of heavy-G worlds OGryn come from given this one.

Page 177

For all his hunched dishevelled state, crushed as he was by the exces­sive gravity, Commissar Leminkanen was still formidable. His glinting, steely gaze directed itself at Floscan from beneath his peaked cap. Floscan realised that the heavy gravity suit hid his uniform.

The Commissar is in the same boat as Floscan.

Page 177

"You are an ignorant young fool, Guardsman. We are deep inside a planetary system! Ships cannot emerge from the warp this close to a star, except by means of a known and charted warp gate. The navy will be here to investigate when the flotilla fails to arrive."

well that explains before with the escape pod. Clearly they were using warp gates. Still, it demonstrates that it is at least *possible* to emerge close to a planet form the warp, it just has its own dangers.

Page 178

Floscan had heard stories about the Chaos gods on Aurelia, but he had taken them to be fanciful super­stitions.

Chaos gods were considered superstitions.


Page 178

Floscan was not really concerned with that. "Will good tribes like Ochtar's be admitted into the Imperium?" he asked eagerly. "After all, there are plenty of other abhumans."
Leminkanen's voice rose in impassioned fury. "How many times must I tell you that you are a fool, Guardsman; ogryns and the like are natural human types. A human being with four legs is an abomination! It is a mutant! And a mutant is a child of Chaos! It cannot be allowed to live!" His voice fell to an exhausted drone. "It is a good thing we have discovered this. We must try to leave a record for the investigators. There is nothing here but twisted human mutation and the taint of Chaos. My report will recommend the cleansing of this entire planet."

Page 178

Had the quadrupeds been listred as aliens they would have bene left alone - the Imperium could not exterminate every alien race in teh galaxy, meritorious though the ideal was.

An example of the mostly pragmatic view towards Aliens the Imperium holds.

Page 181

Heart exulting, he hung on for all his worth - and realised that his limbs no longer seemed so heavy. Glancing at the h-g icons, he grinned. The suit's photoelectric stripes had been soaking up sunlight. The h-g field was re-energised!

- H-G suit has photoelectric strips that allows it to recharge itself. Guess it isn't totally useless. Of course now i wonder why Floscan was worrying about the damn thing running out...

Page 182

"I must make my report! Order the Exterminatus! Guardsman, if I am martyred you must deliver it into the right hands."

Commissars can recommend/order Exterminatus it seems.

Page 182

Emergency report by Commissar Lemuel Leminkanen LX.’38974B on unnamed planet in Cluster FR.’7891 in vicinity of Warp Gate 492.

This planet is of no value to the Imperium. It is a feral world of the most extreme violence and would he very difficult to colonise. It contains a primitive semi-intelligent alien species unlikely to advance further.

Recommend no action particularly on account of

Again warp gate, disregard of primtiive aliens on the basis they are no threat and the planet sucks.


Page 183

A mutant is a mutant. They had altered themselves too much. Well, now they would be registered as aliens and left alone. Floscan had already heard that Warp Gate 492 was to be marked as unusable on the charts, a deadly trap now that it had been discovered by the orks, who must have been lurking nearby waiting for Imperial vessels to emerge.

Fate of said warp gate.


Page 185

The scream of the engines fought against the howling winds in a terrify­ing crescendo of doom. Hyper-velocity mica particles skittered across the hull of the ship like skeletal fingers as it wallowed in the storm, shudder­ing and dropping by steps as the pilot struggled for control.

Not sure how fast hypervelocity goes, but the hull is resisting the impacts (although they may be tiny partirlces even then.)

Page 185-186

The ship's rattling, brassbound altimeter showed them at a height of nearly seven kilometres above the planet. They had already been drop­ping out of control for twelve. As Lakius turned back to the rune-etched panel enclosing the ship's pilot, another violent lurch smashed his shaven skull against it, triggering an emgram patch he had only recently divined from his auto-shrine. It was about their too-rapidly approaching destination, and ran in confusing counterpoint through his right optic viewer as he tried to focus on repairing the nav-spirit.

..

Less than a league of free air remained before they would hurtle into solid rock.

..

The ship's engines rose in a triumphant scream to drown out the rush­ing winds and skittering dust. Lakius and Osil felt the heavy weight of high-G deceleration as the ungainly craft steadied itself and slowed.

out of ocntrol descent.. apparnetly in a short period of time.

Page 187

"see there, Osil: the Explorators have invoked a laser mesh for the protection of the camp. How pwoerful would you say it is?"

"I see three transformation engines on this side of the camp. Assuming the same number on the far side I would estimate: 10 to 20 gigawatts, father."

10-20 gigawatt laser fence/mesh thingy. Also "transformationengines" as a power source. Matter to energy conversion of some kind? fancy name for some other kind of reactor?

Page 187

The figures came closer. They were Praetorians, bionically reconstructed warrior-servitors of the Machine God. Their cadaverous faces gazed stonily from a nest of targeting scopes and data-wires, gun barrels and energy tubes tracked Lakius and Osil until they halted.

Praetorian servitors.

PAge 187

They followed a pair of the heavy servitors between low buildings of pre-fabricated armourplas panelling towards a central command sphere. Osil pointed to one of the smaller structures which had its panels folded back to create a workshop lit from within by welding arcs and showers of sparks.

AdMech fortifications set up by Explorator camp. includes its own workshop.

Page 187

"'They are re-initiating servitors, Osil. Evidently there has been some accident or mishap which has rendered the units non-functional."

He forbore to comment on the row of ready caskets outside the workshop, containers for tech-priests whose biological components were fit only for incorporation into new servitors. Several priests must have died here already.

Mention of recycling the organic components of dead bodies into repairing/rebuilding or the incorporation of new servitors.


Page 188

"I am Adept Noam, Lexmechanic Magos Tertius. I have the honour of analysing and compiling data on this expedition."

..

"Adept Santos, artisan, responsible for camp construction and mainte­nance."

..

"Adept Borr, rune priest, extrapolation and theory."

..

"Adepts Renallaird, Kostas and Adso are engineers like yourself, their areas of expertise covering the mysteries of generation, augury and metriculation. Adept Virtinnian is absentia, attending to the servitors at present."

Various Admech adepts part of the Explorator team and their functions. The interesting bits were the LExmechanic and the rune priest. Especially the latter as it hints at some predictive function based on data.

Page 189

"The unction of clear thought? What is that, father?" blurted Osil, for­getting that he should be seen and not heard amongst such adepts.
Noam replied smoothly, apparently not troubled by the acolyte's gaucheness. "The full utilisation of cerebral mass is a simple matter of isolating our thoughts from the rigours and distractions of emotion -hunger, fear, joy, boredom and so forth. This we know as the unction of clear thought."
"A common surgical practice among lexmechanics." Lakius told Osil, "whose renowned cognitive abilities are enhanced thereby." At the price of becoming an emotionless automaton he thought to himself, before adding more diplomatically, "In my own role as engineer I have always found crude emotions such as "fear" and "pain" to be useful motivators under the right circumstances."

The "Unction of clear thought process" -eg "cutting out parts of your brain to make yourselves bigger assholes" described. Probably related to the sort of surgery given to Skitarii.

Page 189

"Over six hundred million years ago, a race we know as the necrontyr arose and spread across the galaxy. What little we know of these giants of prehistory has been learned from a handful of so-called dead worlds, like this one, scattered at the very fringes of the galaxy. On each world stand vast, monolithic structures which have remained all but impenetrable to every device at the hand of Man. The level of technology evident in their construction is almost incomprehensible to us and many Explorators have been lost winning the fragmentary knowledge we do have."

- Necrontyr have been on the Naogeddon for 600 million years. The AdMech, as we know from lots of other novels, have made lots of failed efforts at researching and acquiring access ot the TEch. It may be that given what we know from Mechaicum., Necron Tech is linked in some fashion to Imperial tech (sometiems mistaken as Archaeotech perhaps?)

Page 190

"We have a fifteen gigawatt laser mesh, twenty armed servitors and storm-bunkers built out of cubit-thick, Titan grade armourplas panels."

aforementioned laser mesh fence thingy is 15 gigawatts. "cubit thick" Titan grade armor is implied to be between 45 cm to 67 cm depending on source. Roughly half a metre thick, in other words.

This also gives us tacit proof of differing "grades" of armor as well, not just in termsof what it is made from, or thickness. Although we know nothing of the grading system at all.

Page 190

As a rune priest adept, Borr was trained to place together fragmentary information and make a speculative theorem, something akin to black magic for most tech-priests.As a rune priest adept, Borr was trained to piece together fragmentary information and make a speculative theorem, something akin to black magic to most tech-priests. As such, Borr had explained, he was detailed to make observations of their attackers, try to understand their tactics, strengths and weaknesses and then feed effective protocols to the Praetorians.

Purpose of a rune priest. Again seems highly predictive, perhaps bordering on the psychic/intuitive.

Page 191

The augur screen flashed and displayed a grid with moving icons, Borr glanced down and said, "The Praetorians have spotted something. We should have it at any moment. There, eight energy sources, six hundred metres out on the west side. We'll have visual soon." Another glass flashed and displayed icons. Borr was all business now, his fears forgotten in his devotion to his work. "Eight more, at six hundred and closing from the south-east. They're tempting us to split our fire, I expect... yes here it is, a third group at six hundred metres north waiting to see which way we go."

Necrons start at 600 m away, coming from multiple angles.

Page 191

Borr fed attack vectors and co-ordinates to the Praetorians while Lakius and Osil clustered around an augur glass. The laser mesh was shown as a ragged line of X's representing the ground based refraction spines. Red triangles approached in serried lines from two directions and held back on another angle. The Praetorians were represented by cog-shapes, in respect for their selfless devotion to the Machine-God. The Praetorians were moving southwest and an exchange of fire soon took place across the laser mesh.

Given a rather slow foot progress of Necrons, I expect the engagement range was between 500-600 metres since this occurs shortly after the preceding quote.


Page 191

On the west the enemy was at the laser mesh, advancing through it in a tight wedge and destroying the spines with tightly controlled salvoes. Red lines flicekred across the interlopers progrgess as detection beams were broken and the continuous energy flow of the mesh jumped to full output, searing through the ranks. Time and again the icons dimmed but recovered, they would soon break through.

Laser mesh fails to stop the 'Crons. Its not so much it seems to fail to damage them, as it fails to put them completely out of action. IT is annoying enough that the 'Crons spend time trying to destroy the spines.

The one thing preventing us from a definitive value from this is whether the 15 GW bit applies to the whole fence, one whole side, or part of it. I assume the laser fence is meant to work like an electric fence (not an unreasonable comparison), which would imply that the wattage generally represents what a given target feels.

Even then, though, wattage doesn't mean joules/sec.. it could be a fraction of a second (although probably not a tiny duration, the beams are still at least partly sustained) and it could be from multiple beams hitting a single target (over a larger area, basically.)

Imagine the implications this has for weapons that can harm necrons (sustained hellgun fire, plasm anad melta weapons, etc.) though

Page 192

The energy weapons of the aliens were frightening in their potency, their actinic bolts visibly flaying through whatever they struck layer by layer like some obscene medical scan com­pressed into a heart beat. The warrior-servitors fought back with plasma fire and armour piercing missiles, cutting down the skeletal apparitions one by one, but four more servitors had been cut down by the enemies' deadly accurate fire.

- Servitors using armour piercing missile and plasma weapons. And we see the effects of Necron weapons against both inorganic and organic matter.

We can infer from the laser fence "roughly" the magnitude of firepower involved, albeit keepign in mind the problems I specified.

Page 192

A small group was left to finish off the alien machines which kept stubbornly rising after hits that would have stopped a dread­nought

implicaton that these Necrons weren't permantntly stopped even by "dreadnought" level hits - less a testament to their durability tan their self repair capabilities.

Page 192

If either the western or southern groups were not completely eliminated the foe would undoubtedly get a foothold inside the camp.

Again, fences were not stopping the Necrons.

Page 192

"Borr, set the northern face of the mesh to maximum sensitivity." Lakius said.

"But the spines will fire continuously, dissipate into the windblown dust!"

"Mica dust" Lakius corrected.

LAser mesh has variable sensitivity levels, and an indication that they only discharge when that sensitiviy threshhold is met. (EG they can adjust it to suit different kinds of targets, allowing some kinds to pass unharmed.)

Page 193

Clattering forward on armoured treads, a salvo of missiles scorched
across the void-black sky and cut down two enemy machines as they emerged from the las-mesh.

missiles vs 'Crons.

Page 193

The storm bunker was being torn to pieces, its adamantium sheath impossi­bly burning with metal-fires.

Interesting aspect to Adamantium, implying that it is a (highly) reactive metal, albeit under unown circumstances, similar to the way some metals like titanium or Aluminum can burn.

This coudl be a useful quality in some cases, actually, as it might indicate that adamantium shells could behave like soem sort of reactive metal warhead (a recent innovation in weapons technology that is being looked into to improve the firepower of munitions. That the Imperium
could use such technologies would make sense and help explain some things, like multi-GJ
Earthshaker shells.)

Page 193

Without warning, the laser mesh crackled into a frenzy of dischrages. Gigawatts of energy were dissipated into the swirling dust particles, pointlessly scatterign their power in flashes of heat and light.

The flashes were harmless, but powerful enough to temporarily blind the optics of the nearby skeleto-machines. Their fire slackened momentarily and the Praetorians used the opportunity ot hald and let rip with every weapon in their arsenals; bolter shells, missiels and plasma craved through teh silhouetted enemy.

Necron optics could be blinded by bright flashes. The implication seems to be that there are "gigawatts" of energy per discharge (which may mean gigajoules per escond, despite the lousy context since we know watts is power and joules is energy), but it would seem to imply that the fences work similar to an electric fence, or enough so at least that a individual target might absorb "gigawatts"

Page 193

Lakius stood looking at Magos Egal's 'key', a fifteen metre-long phase field generator, poised like some giant, complex syringe of steel and brass over the unyielding black stone of the alien structure.

the Admech explorator has a phase field generator.

Page 195

Adept Noam was taking input from a cadaverous-looking scanning servi­tor, a long umbilical connecting its oversized eye-lenses to a socket in the lexmechanic's chest. Borr was nearby, puzzling over a hand-held auspex.

scanning servitor linked to LExmechanic and transferring data.

Page 195

"No, I'm not sure that it's supposed to be read in the human optic range. Set your view-piece to read magnetic resonance and you'll see what I mean."

Lakius fumbled with the focusing knob on the rim of his artificial eye, tuning it to scan electromagnetic frequencies. The corridor was bathed in it, every whorl and spine was a tiny energy source which glowed with mag­netic force. The overall effect was dizzying, like walking through a glass corridor over an infinite gulf full of stars. After a time Lakius had to reset his vision to blank it out.

Admech augmetic implant has variable visual settings, in this case magnetic resonance/EM spectrum.

Page 196

The Praetorian's plasma cannon crackled up to a full charge, a compressed lightning bolt which would annihilate anythign within metres of its impact point.

...

The cannon fired, a searing flash and thunderclap which tore through the other Praetorian and sent white-hot shrapnel scything down the corridor.

Plasma weapon likened to a lightnign bolt, although I suspect it is less the power of the weapon than it is that its a particle beam type weapon. And yet, it is powerful enough to have an "area of effect" like a munition.

Page 196

"A sophisticated form of faeran field."...

..
A faeran field interfered with brain functions, inducing, among other things, extreme fear responses and seizures.

Necrons have what the AdMech calls a "faeran field".

Page 197

The twistings of this alien maze would constitute a lifetime's work with studies of geometry and numerology.
Magos Egal was in no mood to linger, though, and he set Noam and Borr to calculating a path through. Adept Noam's vast analytic power was directed entirely onto building an accurate map of the interweaving pas­sages they moved through using direct observation, phasic scanning, micropressure evaluation and tactile interrogation. Adept Borr used his carefully learned arts conjecture and intuition to understand the underly­ing structure of the maze, and to determine what kind of xenomorphic logic would guide them through it.

Attempts at mapping a Necron Tomb. I have to wonder if the perception of fucked up geometry is because of mental influence like that "Faeran field" rather than it being really that way.

Despite that, the Rune Priest appears to be able to facilitate mapping through his predictive abilities.

No idea what "phasic scanning" is though.

Page 197

Lakius was reduced to doing the work of a servitor, spooling out power thread and invoking marker-points at each junction so that Noam could tick them off on his mental plan.

The spool's metriculator showed less than a thousand metres left of its five kilometre length when they found another portal, though the term seemed inappropriate for the gargantuan metal slabs confronting them.

5 km link or power thread, "marker points" (Beacons?) and a metriculaor (counter) on the spool to show how much line is left.

Page 197-198

"Watch the rear!" Lakius shouted and hefted his personal weapon, an ancient and beautifully crafted laser made by Ortisian of Arkeness, whose spirit he had long tended to

Its angry red lash was sharp and true; it caught a shape, which blew apart in a blinding flash that spoke of minor atomics.
The others crouched on their spindly legs and then leapt for­ward, buzzing down the corridor like a swarm of metallic insects.
Each was the size of a man's torso, flattened at the edges like scarabs and fringed with vicious looking hooks and claws.

Lakius' lasweapon is interesting in that it behaves lke a sustained beam laser, raking it across targets like a blade. Powerful enough to blow apart a Scarab "the size of a man's torso" , although that could be explained as detonation of some internal power source (the "minor atomics")

IF (and only if) it were an inert bit of torso sized metal (and using the claculator on the laser death ray page) would need many hundreds of kilojoules, perhaps several megajoules... at least assuming a single pulse. 10 1000 Joule pulses could do similar levels of devastation, at least in a line :p 10x10 pulse pattern (100 pulses) would be 100 kj totla. /all this assumes a spot size of a mm and a microsecond pulse duration.

Page 198

His laser flickering from one to another in a deadly dance of destruction.[

Lakius' las weapon again, suggesting sustained fire. either it is intelligent enough to only pulse
when it finds a target, or it has one hell of an effective powersource.


Page 198

Osil lay gripped to an operating table by steel bands, the arms of an auto chirurgeon delicately sliced at his skin, pulling forth steel splinters and suturing his torn flesh together. Pain blockers numbed his body but his mind was racing. Father Lakius had told him to prepare their sacred cargo for release. Such a dangerous undertaking was normally only made in response to a signal from the Adeptus Terra on distant Earth.

Not my ideal kind of surgery

Page 198

To begin the investiture of the living weapon the ship carried in cryo-stasis without the initiation code was tantamount to suicide. If the assassin's crypt was opened without receiving the preparatory mnemon­ics and engrams specifying its target it would kill everything it found until it was destroyed.

Eversor assassin kept on ice in its own ship until is needed. Lakius and Osil were trusted with the care of one such. Also the specific programming needed to "control" one such.

Page 199

"These are cryo-stasis machines." he whispered. Metriculation memo-chips in his optic viewer calmly extrapolated that the chamber held over a million of them.

"It's what I brought you to see. They resemble the cryo-crypt of the Assassinorum vessel you arrived in, do they not? The best is at the centre, these are just... servants."

Metriculator implants tied to visual input. And the necron cryo stasis machines, similar to what the Assassins use.

Page 200

"Lakonius described an artefact like this in the Apocrypha of Skarros. He spoke of a symbol of mastery born by the lords of the necrontyr, called the "staff of light"." He hefted the ornate device in both hands. As he did so, an intense blue-white light flared in the symbol at the top of the staff. "With this, we need fear no denizen of this edifice; with time they can even be tamed and made to serve."

staff of light described.

Page 201

The melted wreckage of the Prae­torians and Renaillard's body were gone, the corridor clear except for the power threads trailing off into the darkness.

plasma bolt melted down part of a Pratorian (they destroyed each other.)

Page 201

Egal darted away from Lakius's laser with inhuman quickness. But Lakius had been aiming at the phase generator's power couplings, and the hit was more spectacular than he had imagined. The key-machine detonated and then imploded, a halo of white-hot flame flashing outwards for a moment before it was dragged back. A ragged distortion-veil skated erratically over the machine, crashing it smaller and smaller as it tried to suck everything nearby into it. Egal had been blown clear, but was left wrestling to hold onto the alien staff of light as it was drawn inexorably towards the rift.

effect of the destruction ofa phase field generator.

Page 202

Lakius levelled his laser at the magos and shot him in the head without replying. Egal fell back clutching his face.
...
His last shot had been at full strength, enough to punch through plasteel. MAgos Egal was still moving, standing up.

...
"Have you any idea how hard it was to get this texture right?" he demanded indignantly, indicating the side of his face that had been caressed by a steel-burning laser. Charred welts revealed glittering metal beneath, quicksilver curves that betrayed an inhuman, yet familiar, anatomy. Lakius kept moving back, the figure of the thing that had pre­tended to be Egal was getting reassuringly distant, dwarfed by the solid black base of the alien structure. A pair of Praetorians came rattling for­ward from amidst the stormbunkers, balefully scanning Lakius with their targeters.

variable outputs on Laku's laspistol.


Page 202

The magos-thing was at the laser mesh. It leapt suddenly, astoundingly covering the huundred s to Lakius and the Praetorians in a single somersaulting bound.[

no idea what Egal is/whas, but it can change shape and jump 100 in a second.

Page 203

"What makes you think I replaced him at all? I have travelled a great dis­tance since my first waking, walked in many places that have changed so very much since I saw them last."

"What were you seeking?" whispered Lakius.

The thing's ferocious smile was spread almost ear to ear. "Knowledge, mostly. I wanted to know how the galaxy had fared; who was left after the plague. You can't imagine my surprise on finding your kind and the krork scattered everywhere. I've seen you humans trying to forge an empire in the name of a corpse; I have seen your churches to the machine. Racially, your fear and superstition are most gratifying. You make excellent sub­jects."

"You are necrontyr, then. You went into stasis to escape a disease."

"No, your language is inefficient. The plague was not a disease and it couldn't harm us, but..." The necrontyr tilted its head back as if dreaming of long lost times. "It was killing everything else." It looked back at Lakius. "And no, I am not a necron. You mistake the slave for the master. You'll understand better when I take you back inside."

Implies (states?) that Egal was a C'tan. Quite possibly the Deceiver.

Page 204

At the third blow a bulge appeared in the Titan-grade adamantium plate.

Eventually it just settles for cutting a hole lightsaber-style through the adamantium.

PAge 204

There was a flash outside, and seconds later a titanic roar. The blast wave from the assassinorum vessel's plasma reactor going critical was a second behind that.

"Don't worry, I can save you." The thing grinned again.

"No need." grated Lakius and closed the last connection.

A dome of shimmering, bluish light sprang into being. It filled the hatchway with the necron-master frozen at its centre. It was a charcoal-black silhouette in the glare of the plasma-flash beyond the field. The rest of the armoured command centre shook and rattled alarmingly but held, its vulnerable hatch protected by Lakius's improvised stasis bubble.

Stasis tech bubble. The Necron-c'tan whatever was unable to overcome it, either.

The bunker survived a plasma detonation of unknown yield.


Page 207

He whipped out his autopistol and squeezed off a round full in the Jack-boy's face. The ganger screamed foully, tumbling backwards, the top of his head blasted clear.

Pistol wound.

Page 208

He could hear the Jackboy talking on a comm-unit.

Civilian (?) comm units.

Page 208

The six man Adeptus Arbites Enforcer squad, grim men in fully enclosed suits of carapace armour, cast a pall
of fear as they passed the stinking hovels and battered habs of the lower hive.

- Six man Arbites Enforcer squad, equipped with fully enclosed suits of carapace armour.



Page 209

At well over two metres, Gunderson was a giant of a man, radiating his authority and power like a threat. He was broad and powerfully built, with muscles like slabs of iron beneath his midnight blue carapace armour. He wore his non-reflective bronze captain's badge over his left breast and was helmetless, tiny vox-comm beads attached to his larynx and the canal of his ear. A black, protective eye visor shielded his vision.

- Gunderson, the guy leading the arbites, is well over two meters tall a "giant of a man". Had an eye visor and comm bead. Presumably that is what the helmets also have.

Page 209

They'd intercepted a radio call on an unlicensed frequency moments earlier as they patrolled the outskirts of District Quintus, almost half a kilometre away.

Vox transmission/interception range oof half a kilometer. Presumably they're homing in on the Jack-boy's comms. It also gives us an interesting insight into how the Arbites monitor crime/

PAge 209

He was known to front for a couple of heavy hitters up in the refinery city of Desirata who synthesised Kalma, Spook, Slaught and Throne knew what else in secret factories, shipped it to every hive on the planet and, it was rumoured, off-world.

Snowdog was a major player in the odious underworld of Erebus Hive. He ran a fair sized piece of turf with his gang, the Nightcrawlers, and sup­plied drugs and guns to the ever-hungry population of the hive.

Hive criminal actvitiy. Implied to possibly extend even off-world.

Page 210

From the garbled communication his men had intercepted, it appeared that some kind of drag deal had gone wrong and there was a chance Snowdog was involved.

again messages were intercepted.

Page 210

Gunderson carried his shotgun as though it were part of his own flesh, grasping it tight in a vice-like grip. It was set to fire Executioner rounds, hunting shells that would zero in on their target's location.

Executioner shells.

Page 210

He and his squad of five Enforcers reached the collapsed factory their vox-comms had identified as the source of the signal and began climbing the rugged, metal slope of girders and debris towards the entrance, no more than a rusted iron cave mouth.

The enforcer vox-comms could also isolate the locations of signals they intercept.

Page 210

From his left, the light at the entrance to the factory was suddenly blocked as a team of Bronzes pushed their way inside. He swore to him­self as he recognised the bulky form of their leader and twisted to snap off a couple of shots at him.

He saw them hit, but cursed as they were deflected by the Bronze's heavy carapace armour.

- gunfire from Snowdog's autopistol glance off the Arbites "heavy carapace armour."

Page 210-211

Snowdog saw the distinctive flashes of Body-Chaser shells as their tiny motors ignited. He knew he was a goner.
..

He felt the double thump as the 'Chasers slammed into his human shield, blasting a plate-sized hole in him. LEx didn't even make a sound, and snowdog knew he was so doped up that he probably hadn't even felt the shells hit. Snowdog winced, thinking that if Lex lived, it was goign to hurt like a cast-iron bitch when the Kalma wore off.

...

He tensed, expecting the agony of scatter shot flensing the flesh from his bones or a solid shot punching a giatn crater in his chest.

Executioner shells are visually distinctive, have their own rocket motors as well as guidance. They can blast a "plate sized' hole in the target, although whether it is an explosive or kinetic impact isn't specified.


Page 211

Snowdog sprang onto the squirming Jackboy and forced the barrel of his gun under his chin. He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. The Jackboy's head exploded, showering Snowdog with blood and brians, the crack of the gun's dischrage lost in ac acophony of shotgun blasts that erupted around him.

Autopistol round explodes a head/

Page 211-212

He grinned as he reached down and pulled out a leather ban­dolier with crude, homemade grenades hung along its length.

Some with his name on, he guessed. He was about to unsnap one of the grenades from the bandolier then stopped, smiling to himself.

To hell with it.

He quickly pulled the pins on all the grenades and rose to his feet, swinging the heavy belt round his head. Yelling an obscenity, he lobbed the bandolier towards the sheltering Bronzes.

....

The frag grenades simultaneously detonated in the midst of the ARbites trroops. Razor sharp piecees of white hot metal scythed out from the explosion and men died as the shrapnel shredded their bodies. Snowdog covered his ears at the terrific blast as the pressure wave rolled over him, tumbling him from his hiding place.

...

Three of the Bronzes were dead, a fourth on his knees, clutching his ruined belly, vainly trying to hold in his bloody entrails.

Criminal grenades. They seem to go through the carapace quite easily though.


Page 212 -

Silver's shot impacted on his armour, but the thick breastplate deflected it.

Shotgun slug deflecting off of carapace.

Page 212

The stench of the Ere­bus Hive sewer network was overpowering, shot through with the reeking odours of six million people's waste.

six million people (at least?) in Erebus hive. Not exactly a large one by Hive standards.

[NecronLord]

Egal escaped, eventually, he's mentioned in Codex Necrons as being on Mars having returned from Naogeddon. And is quoted in the Deceiver section of the codex. I'm pretty sure Andy Chabmbers has mentioned him as being the Deciever in an interview too.

The idea wasn't developed by that point though, so there's some things that don't quite make rational sense (not just phasing through the door) but they can be rationalised by the 'melodrama is an art form' comment.

It does make you wonder what he'd need with a staff of light - he wasn't concieved as a god at that point. I tend to imagine it was the ultimate staff of light or something. Otherwise nothing actually happens in the story.

[Connor MacLeod]

Egal escaped, eventually, he's mentioned in Codex Necrons as being on Mars having returned from Naogeddon. And is quoted in the Deceiver section of the codex. I'm pretty sure Andy Chabmbers has mentioned him as being the Deciever in an interview too.

The idea wasn't developed by that point though, so there's some things that don't quite make rational sense (not just phasing through the door) but they can be rationalised by the 'melodrama is an art form' comment.

It does make you wonder what he'd need with a staff of light - he wasn't concieved as a god at that point. I tend to imagine it was the ultimate staff of light or something. Otherwise nothing actually happens in the story.

I kinda see it as a "point of view" thing. We don't know enough to say one way or another - it could have been the Deceiver, or it could have been something pretending to be the Deceiver (some Necron Lord, some other construct, who knows.)

Hell, for all we know, this is just one step on some nefarious plot of the Deceiver. I wouldn't put it past the bastard to have duplicates/puppets/decoys of himself for whatever reason.

[Connor MacLeod]

The next LTGB update. Finishing up Fall of Malvolon, a jonathan Green short story I rather liked, and one of the more decent Ben Counter stories (He ought to write less Space Marine and more Guard/Sisters of Battle stuff.) Also that weird short story featuring some weird Space Marine initiate fighting a daemon in some quasi VR world.

Page 213

Ever since the Space Marines had kicked the tyranids off this world, the local boys of the Imperial Guard and Defence Militia had had their hands full hunting the remaining tyranid creatures that had gone to ground in the underhive. Despite their efforts there were still broods of the smaller beasts nesting in the moist darkness of the lower levels of Erebus Hive. When the 'nids had attacked the hive, Snowdog had fought hand-to-hand in a militia unit as sickle armed beasts burst through every culvert and recyc unit, slaughtering hundreds of the lower hive dwellers. Snowdog had seen enough bugs to last a lifetime and certainly didn't want to see any more.

Tyranids leftover from a failed attack on the Hive World Snowdog lives on (Erebus?) have taken to nesting inside the lower levels of the hive, three months after the attack. This is curious, ,because this is more the behaviour of a truly organic creature, not a highly specialized organiwank killing machine. Later Tyranid codexes make it quite plain tha the Tyranids tend to eschew certain body systems (ie digestive system) in favor of redundant circulatory/nervous systems as well as internal volume dedicated ot making the things better fighters. Which also means that Tyranids need support infrastructure to maintain them for any length of time. Without which, they'd almost certainly die.

We can conclude, ,perhaps that these tyranids are from an "earlier/younger/less refined" hive fleet, that may have employed more general purpose organisms instead of teh more specialized killers we see in other later (more advanced) Hive fleets. Or, it may be these forms are designed deliberately to operate more independently and away from the Tyranid resource bases (scouts, infiltrators, terrorists, whatnot.) Either way, these probably are less powerful/durable examples of Tyranids compared to the more "specialized" killers.

Page 215

Its powerful hind legs uncoiled like a spring as the creature leapt from the sewer outlet towards them. It exploded in mid-air as the solid shot from Gunderson's shotgun blew it apart, the echoes of the blast ringing from the concrete walls.

Probably a hormagaunt, given the powerful leaping leg muscles. (which are mentioned on the bottom of the page) Shotgun blasts blew it apart bolter-style.


Page 216

Tigerlily drew her daggers and hammered them through a 'gaunt's neck, almost severing its head.

...

Gunderson slammed the butt of his shotgun into the second creature's head, splitting it apart with a sickening crunch.

....
Snowdog dodged, spun inside its guard and drove the blade deep into its neck, wrenching it upwards.

It has been often claimed (despite information in the Codexes and such) that Modern forces would do better against Tyranids and toher enemies the guard face because the Guard are incompetent. It has also been claimed that modern weapons would be quite effective given the effects of the weapons in this shorrt story. However, as we can see, te guns arguably are considerably more powerful (at least on the high end of modern weapons in temrs of capability) and we know that their knives can be very exotic (vibro or mono-molecular blades..)


Page 216

He dodged as a hormagaunt leapt at him, its talons slashing. He blasted its chest open and dodged as another pounced. He pulled the trigger and the hammer dropped on an empty chamber.

Auto pistol blew open a gaunt's chest.


Page 216

Gunderson fired into the mass of creatures, each blast blowing a 'gaunt into bloody shreds.

Again Gundersun's shotgun managest o blast apart 'gaunts.

Page 217

The beast's chest was a wetly glistening mass of rippling tissue, pink and raw looking. Barbed hooks clicked on the exposed bone of its exo-skeleton, almost as though they had a life of their own. Perhaps it had once been a 'gaunt like the others and the isolation from the hive fleet had driven its internal evolution into overdrive, producing this terrifying pack leader. However it had happened, Snowdog realised, it was bad news for them.

- an exceptionally stronger Hormagaunt appears, bigger and tougher than all the others (guessed to be because absence form the Hive Fleet accelerated its internal evolution.)


Page 218

Delano needed no further prompting and squeezed the trigger of his shotgun. At such close range he couldn't miss and Snowdog watched as
a blaze of purple energy flared around the beast simultaneously with the shotgun's blast. As the searing afterimage of the flash dissipated, Snowdog saw that the creature was unharmed and knew that it was protected by a kind of naturally generated energy field. He'd seen some of the larger tyranid beasts protected by something similar during the war.

- Super Hormagaunt exhibits a "naturally generateD" force field defense. According to Snowdog some of the larger tyranid beasts had similar defenses. It also has flesh hooks for gripping adn dragging victims into range of its weapons.

Page 218

The creature's chest suddenly spasmed, the pink folds of skin rip­pling and undulating with a grotesque peristaltic motion. Thick cords of tough muscle fibre whipped out towards Delano. The barbed hooks punched through the Enforcer's carapace armour and snagged his ribcage, digging into the meat of his body. The flesh hooks retracted on powerful muscles and hauled the screaming Delano off his feet.

Super-Gaunt also has its own fleshhooks. Enforcer armor is no protection.

Page 219

He rolled to his knees and drew his pistol in one motion, aiming towards its head. He squeezed off several shots, but none were able to penetrate the crea­ture's energy field.

The shield, incidentally, takes multiple hits from several shotguns and at least 3 autopistols.

Page 219

Snow­dog heard Silver scream his name as he fired the last bullets from his pistol at point blank range into the beast's face. It screeched in agony as one bullet somehow managed to defeat its protective field and blow out its left eye. Its grip convulsed, the claws digging further into Snowdog's body, and he screamed in agony, blood streaming down his sides.

Effect of one bullet on the super-gaunt. It may have been reduced by the field before penetrating though.

PAge 225

. Responding instinctively, Rius turned his weapon on the creature. He watched with grim satisfaction through his visor as the creature's grotesque visage disintegrated. As his storm bolter kicked in his hand, the back of the creature's skull exploded outwards in a splattering burst of purple blood and bone fragments.

Storm bolter exploded a head.


Page 225 -

With an electro-chemical surge, a fleshborer propelled its cargo of liv­ing ammunition towards its target.

Fleshborer fired.

Page 226

The Marine's response was to swing his free right hand, enclosed by its power fist, into the termagant's body. The creature's ribcage shattered under the blow, the fist's disruption field liquefying its internal organs.

power fist vs termagant/.

Page 226
[quoe]
The termagant was torn apart by a hail of shells, its ruined carcass knocked back into the genocidal horde.[/quote]

Another 'nid blasted apart by bolter fire.

Page 226

When the Gauntlet of Macragge had come out of the warp, the mighty starship's sensors had picked up the tell-tale signals of a massive alien presence. Scanners quickly confirmed the presecne of a hive fleet in orbit around the fourth planet in the Dakor star system.

Sensors appear to detect a ship over an au or more distance.

Page 227

Dozens of worlds had been scoured of all life to provide the alien horro with raw material from which to perpetuate itself.

....

The feeding frenzy of the hive-mind's children was as effective at wiping all life form the surface of a plnet as the world-scouring process of the Exterminatus, as a score of worlds would testify.

Tyranoforming likened in devastation to Exterminatus in destructive capability (Not the only time either. I believe it's mentioned in Warriors of Ultramar, for example.) which can include the removal of large volumes of crust, a world's oceans, and its atmosphere. That said, we also know only some kinds of Exterminatus would be that devastating, so applying this isn't neccesarily simple. (It wouldnt neccesarily reflect any particular kind of orbital bombardment, for example.)


Page 227

As soon as the serrated edge connected with flesh, the nerve tendrils within the bonesword delivered a potent psychic jolt to the warrior's body. The stun would only be momentary but it was long enough for the tyranid, howling in triumph, to remove the man's head from his shoulders with its second blade.

Bonesword.

Page 227

Striding behind the charging tyranid warriors, lording it over his swarm, the hive queen's consort came into view. The hive tyrant was a truly terrifying figure to behold. The monster stood over two metres tall and its presence exuded a malign intelligence that filled the Ultramarines with dread.

Hive Tyrant described.

Page 228

Kilometres overhead, thrusters fired, desperately turning the vast spacecraft on its axis, but it was too late, and the Gauntlet of Macragge collided violently with the asteroid-sized pod launched from the hive ship. The massive spore mine detonated with the power of a thermonuclear explosion, the resultant shockwave shaking the spaceship.

Chunks of bone-like shell as thick as a fortress wall bombarded the craft. Some shards disintegrated as they struck the vessel's force-field but the shields had been damaged by the initial explosion and provided only intermittent protection. Other fragments struck the vast ship like meteors, wrecking communications antennae and tearing holes in its hull through which the accompanying shower of acids, algae and virus-bearing particles could gain access to the craft's interior.

Spore mine detonates in a "Thermonuclear" explosion, but has distinctly organic/technobble nid like side effects. This may or may not have implicatons for the durability of Tyranid ship carapace, as it depends entirely on the yields involved and how the mine is designed (maybe they adopted an Orion=drive like effect to propel the shrapnel, for example. The fact that "acid/virus" stuff persists would certainly suggest that is the case.)


Page 228

The Imperial Navigators reacted swiftly, bringing the six kilometer long vessel under control. fission-boosters firing, the Gauntlet of Macragge moved off in pursuit of the bio ship.

...
However, as the mighty gothic cruiser closed the distance between itself and the tyranid craft, Darius could see yet more spore mines and other sleek, finned creatures being disgorged from the bio-ship's gaping hangar-wide mouth

It is identified as a"gothic cruiser" but its prnobably not the actual ship class, given that Gothics are ~3 km long. Then again given the new Rogue Trader, cruisrs can be upwards of 5 (or more?) kilometers long so, go figure.

Alternately it may siply be a "cruiser that looks gothic" rather than an actual shipclass, since it is not capitalized, and we know 40K ships love looking Gothic. It's still odd in the sense it defines it as a "cruiser" though.

We don't really know what class of ship the Gauntlet is, to be honest. It could be a battle barge, but it is just as likely it is some kind of strike cruiser Prior to the Rogue trader RPg, I would have assumed a battle barge, but now... *shrugs* Works iether way really.

Page 228

"'On my mark, hit that abomination with everything we've got!"
..
A hundred turbo lasers blazed into life, great beams of intensely focused light energy striking the already weakened tyranid mother ship. In a blaze of coruscating fire, the nautilus shell of the massive space-travelling organism splintered, mountainous shards flying from the creature and its soft internal organs rupturing as its body depressurised. Its hundred kilometre-long innards spilling into space, the great crea­ture dropped away from the cruiser as it was caught in Jaroth's gravitational field. The bio-ship plunged towards the planet's surface through the atmosphere, its shattered shell glowing red hot. As Darius
watched, the organism began to burn, its pink flesh cooking as it hur­tled planetward.

The Gauntlet has at least a hundred turbo lasers. No other mention of weaponry, but given what we know of 40K ships, it probably does carry at least one othr kind of weapon.

Also note the Hive ship having "hundred kilometre long" innards. although that probably isnt linear, but coiled up (even if its coiled up a dozen or more times.. thats an effing huge ship)

Page 229

The Space Marines covered the jungle in front of them and to either side with sweeps of their guns, monitoring their motion sensors for signs of potentially hostile life

Motion sensors on Marines.

Page 229

The others checked their motion sensors. Several red blips had appeared at the outer limit of the small displays

again, the sensors.

Page 230

\
It was instantly obvious to the veterans what had happened. A broad hole gaped in the side of an engine housing. Its edges were corroded with an acidic slime and splinters of bone were lodged in the plasteel hull around it. The living cannon of a biovore had fulfilled its deadly purpose. Having been fatally hit by the spore mine, its crew no longer able to con­trol it, the aircraft had come down on the forested plateau.

Biovore shoots down a Thunderhawk. Ship still seems at least partly intact.

Page 230

Rius followed Brother Sericus into the shadowy interior of the crashed Thunderhawk, the optical sensors in his helmet adjusting from the glare of the clearing to the gloom instantly.

optica,l sensors.

Page 231

The creature was swiftly dispatched with a bullet to the temple but even in death the genestealer's jaws refused to release their grip. Several more shots shat­tered the creature's skull allowing Rius to extract his arm.

several storm bolters shot to shatter genestealer's skull.

Page 233

The little girl, Melina, was a constant companion. The time Rius spent with the child, hearing of her youthful adventures or helping her with her letters, filled him with joy and gave him new strength to face the long haul to recovery ahead.

I like this simply for the sake of a MArine not acting like an asshole and doing something constructive.

Page 233

Withn days his wounds had healed as if they had never been.

...The injuries he had suffered would have taken a normtal man months to recover from, if he did at all.

Healling rate of a Marine.

Page 234

The other villagers marvelled at the star-man, s they called him,. for his strength was many times that of the other humans.

Self explanatory.

Page 235

Although still over a couple of kilometres away, thanks to his enhanced eyesight, Rius was able to make out the monster quite clearly. He saw the bleached, bone-like dome of its head; the great curved arms; the crushing hooves; the tough, chitinous hide.

Astartes eyesight of several km, and this unaided.

Page 236

He had hunted the beast for three solid days without resting, having followed its tracks from the ravaged farmstead that now lay many miles behind him.

three days of constant activity, over miles.

Page 237

The Carnifex hit the Terminator with the force fo a mortar shell, forcing the air out of his lungs and throwing him bodily through the air.

Terminator vs Carnifex. PArt of me thinks this is an awfully small or badly injuerd Carnifex.

Page 237

However, his excitement almost instantly turned to disappointment. The flow of alien blood stopped and before his very eyes the wounds began to heal themselves. The carnifex was regenerating!

Rapid regeneration.

PAge 238

With the last of his failing strength he lifted his gun and rammed its muzzle between the monster's jaws. Depressing the trigger he emptied the rest of the cartridge into the carnifex's mouth. Shells blasted through the back of the creature's malformed head; others ricocheted around inside its toughened skull, liquefying its tiny brain.

Bolter shells obliterate the brain, but don't seem to explode. Solid shot?

PAge 239

Detonations filled the air as a squadron of Marauder ground attack craft punched through the pall of smoke that hung over the capital city. Chaos hammer air-to-ground missiles kicked free of their wing-mounted cradles and screamed earthwards.

air to ground missiles from Marauders.

Page 239-240

At an unspoken signal from Kargon, several of the nearest bloodletters turned their attention to the attacking aircraft, each raising its weapon skyward. Sword, axe or spear, these weapons were primarily conduits for the unearthly power of Chaos which, focused by their wielders' rudimen­tary wills, leapt skywards, towards the attacking Imperial craft.

Organic matter first: the flesh of every human pilot slid, gathered itself, then reformed. Tumours burst on skin and writhed with void-born life. Every bone hummed with imminent destruction as Chaos invaded its blood-dark marrow. In seconds, every pilot's sling-seat was occupied by a grotesque malformation of cells vibrating to an ever-higher pitch.

As the dull reports of exploding flesh painted the cockpits red and black, the Marauders' power plants overloaded, the smooth mathemat­ics of their operation unbalanced by the Chaotic assault. The aircraft spun crazily out of control, some spiralling across the sky, others plough­ing into the planetary crust, all finally engulfed in fireballs of pyrotechnic annihilation.

Bloodletter weapons have a ranged firing function, powrful enough to shoot down a plane.

Page 241

The sand beneath their feet had been scorched, melted and fused by a final, futile act of suicidal defiance thge detonation of the garrison's remaining nuclear stockpile.

PDF garrison, maybe Guard garrison, has its own nuclear stockpile.

Page 243

Before him a periscopic sight hung from an articulated cradle. Each twist of its operating handles pro­vided a new angle on Kargon and his troops or offered mind-numbing views of the planet-wide devastation. Along one wall of the small annex in which he sat, a bank of printers chattered out statistical assessments of the speed and efficiency of Kargon's victory. His name was Tydaeus, instructor-sergeant of the Iron Hearts Space Marine Chapter, designated supervisor of the Mimesis Engine and, for the last hour, he had struggled to comprehend what he had seen.
Wrenching his gaze from the viewfinder's binocular eyepieces, Tydaeus tore a strip of parchment from the nearest spool. The arcane sigils of the Adeptus Mechanicus gave the same answer to the question he had asked for the seventh time in as many minutes: Ilium was secure, isolated from every other system in the outpost. The only way to make it more so was to begin stripping gears and rods from the very guts of the Engine itself.

However, Tydaeus was a technician, not a tech-priest; this would have to do.

Tydaeus sat back in his chair, closed his eyes and tried to calm the hur­ricane of images that roared within the confines of his skull. Images of invasion, of merciless assault, death and desecration, of a vile act of plan­etary humiliation that no human had ever seen before and lived to report. None of which could be said to have truly happened at all.
Ilium was a fiction, one training ground of many that could be gener­ated by a bizarre machine set deep in the bowels of a training outpost that was all but ignored, even by the Chapter to which it belonged. Ancient technology, old before the Emperor first ascended the throne, had been unearthed and used to create an addition to the training of Space Marine initiates: worlds on which initiates could fight, die and fight again, learn­ing from their mistakes without paying the usual price for a failed strategy - their own death and the deaths of their fellow Marines.\
Lexmechanics, artisans and logises had spent decades constructing the Mimesis Engine. Not only Ilium, but simulations of a thousand unreal worlds were created, amalgams of every planet on which Space Marines had fought and died. Doubts were raised about the sanctity of such an enterprise, the purity of any technology that set out to re-make the uni­verse. Many were reminded of the foul desire of Chaos-cultists and the dark gods they worshipped to do exactly the same thing.

In the end, ecumenical concerns had little to do with the side-lining of the Mimesis Engine. No Space Marine worth his salt would waste more than a sneer on it. A Space Marine prays for only one chance - the chance to die serving the Emperor!' opined Primarch Rubinek, on hearing of the project's completion. In the face of this opposition, the project's support­ers proposed that the Mimesis Engine be assigned to the Iron Hearts, to be used in the earliest stages of their initiates' training. Lexmechanics would monitor the combat performance of these initiates and thus eval­uate the Engine's usefulness.
During the decades that followed, initiates had come and gone, climb­ing into the rod- and wire-strung battlesuits that enabled them to interact with the worlds generated by the Engine. Each exercise was preceded by ritual invocations of the Emperor's protection from any possible taint of Chaos that might arise from contact with the Engine and would end with a Service of Absolution in the Iron Hearts' Chapel of Martyrs. Over time, interest in its use dwindled, fewer initiates were sent to do battle with the generated simulacra of daemons, genestealers, orks and eldar and the maintenance team was reduced until only Tydaeus and a servitor named Barek remained.

- the Mimesis Engine. Apparently its a device that basically amounts to a virtual reality simulator for the purposes of training Astarttes caniddates without risk of death or injury to them.

we can ignore the Primarch idea and the idea of a un-augmented Space Marine (he would simply be another serf.. but since this story seems to be from his POV we might think that the serf is fricking deluded.)



Page 246

"Your body has rejected the gene-seed."

Chapter Medic Hippocratus was blunt. Years spent in the field, dealing with the most appalling battlefield injuries and carving the invaluable progenoid glands from the bodies of fallen Space Marines, had blasted away any pretence of a bedside manner. Tydaeus sat across from him, stiff-backed, braced for the news but still unable to quiet the rage of his emotions or the flu-like palsy that had gripped him since the third and most recent attempt to introduce the gene-seed into his system.

"As far as we can tell, there's some problem with your DNA's assimila­tion of the seed. Your body reacts to it as if to an invading organism. There's nothing more we can do. Any further attempts to introduce the seed would ran the risk of producing intolerable mutations. Report to the Chapter adjutant for re-assignment. That is all."

With those words and a wave of his gnarled right hand, the grey-haired apothecary brought Tydaeus's life to an end.

I can't help but think that gene-seed rejection without killing the subject is damn rare,, given how important gene-seed is.

Page 247

As he continued to watch the Chaotic hordes slash their way across the monitors, Tydaeus saw the very inconsistencies of manner and action that he would not expect to see in the artificial enemies of one of the prescribed exercises. A certainty - an impossibility! - began to grow in his mind that these invaders were real.

The outrageousness of the notion warred with his understanding of the relationship between warp space and the material universe. The Mimesis Engine was a part of the material universe and so, too, were the worlds that it generated. Was it so unreasonable to suppose that a confluence of cur­rents in the warp tides could allow a cadre of daemons access to one of those worlds? The longer he pondered the question, the longer he watched Ilium drown in the blood of its unreal inhabitants, the more certain Tydaeus became of the answer.

Ilium had been subjected to countless imaginary assaults by aliens and demons, but this time the daemons were real.

Chaos can, in itsp eculiar nature, invade and conquer virtual worlds, or infect such technologies.


Page 250

He let himself be jerked forward, his breastplate thudding against the carmine scales that covered the bloodletter's chest, before firing his pistol point-blank into the daemon's face. The bloodletter fell back, its
head a smoking ruin.

-bolt pistol leaves a bloodletter's head a "smoking ruin"



Page 251

Illusion: Kargon understood that, also. Altering the alignment of his sensory organs, the Seed-Bearer probed the landscape on which he stood, on which his troops were being cut down like so many stalks of grain. Going beyond mere appearance, he sought some trace of an organising principle. Planes of colour were stripped away by his gaze. A matrix of turned metal revealed itself; cogs, differentials, gears and rods meshed and turned with expertly-machined smoothness to create a pattern that was complex, yet regular. Real, yet unreal...

"A consssstruction!" Kargon breathed. Now he truly understood. Illu­sion, so often the means by which the forces of Chaos had fogged the minds of men, was the foundation of the world that he had conquered, of the souls on which he and his troops had fed. Intent on conquest, they had been unwittingly starving since their arrival. Now this new threat, an interloper from the world outside the illusion, had come to take advan­tage of their weakened state, had come to claim the Seed-Bearer's soul as his prize.

To a Chaos Daemon the VR setup of hte Mimesis engine is simply a sort of illusion, something his enahnced sight can handle.

Daemons can, if suitably sophsiticated, apparently be fooled as well.

Page 252

Chainsword in hand, its self-cleaning mechanism whining in protest, Tydaeus continued to carve a path through the bloodletters, severing limbs, bursting chests with cut after cut.

This chainsword of unknown quality appears to have a self-cleaning mechanism (to prevent jams, one imagines.)

Page 256

The Man's chest erupted into a fine red mist as he pumped the deadly explosive bolts into his own torso.

Bolts explode a chest.

Page 256

Cortez had served his time in the military, reaching the exalted rank of commander, fighting on a hundred planets in a dozen systems.

a "hundred planets in a dozen systems" in the military. That suggests something like 8-9 "inhabited" planets per system, although not neccesarily inhabited in the sense of, say, Earth. If we assume a million star systems in the Imperium, this would mean 8-9 million planets scattered over those million systems.

Page 257

In the street below, the horrible hissing and popping of plasma-cooked bodies mingled with the screams of the wounded to teach the old man above the meaning of fear.

"plasma cooked' bodies.

Page 257

Tenebrae - forty-five light years from Fenris, the ancient bulwark of the Space Wolves.

Planet in question is close to the Space Wolves. This would mean its also close to the Eye of Terror.

Page 258

Tenebrae - a world a mere 180 million miles from Prometheus, a Class-A super-giant which burns 10,000 times more brilliantly than Sol, the sun that brought life to Terra itself.

distance of the planet from its sun, and a sun that is 10,000 times more energetic than the solar system's sun.

Page 259

Lumbering past the window of Cortez's shelter, with strides which easily cleared the smaller buildings, Tenebrae's Emperor-class Titan pounded through the city.

'Prosperitus Lux!' Cortez snorted ironically. It was typical to name such a war machine on a recently colonised world thus, the hopes and delu­sions of the people it served to defend reflected in its title. Prosperitus Lux had not been scrambled quickly enough to be effective against the inva­sion, and had consequently failed in its protective capacity. Now it must surely fall along with the rest of the world.

This planet had its own Emperor class titan. It could be that given its proximity to the Eye and Fenris, this is a precaution against invasion from the Eye. It is rather hard to know how the forces stationed in and around the EoT are distributed.

Page 260

Picking a leaf at random from the pile of reports on his desk, Cortez selected one of the many fateful reports on Tenebrae's heretical activity. Yet another report which he had personally ensured the Inquisition had never received.

The Inquisition? Cortez thought resentfully. If he had requested their assistance, and in truth he knew that they represented the only force in the galaxy capable of preventing events of such enormity, then he also knew he would be standing in despair at this very window again.

It is possible (although risky) to suppress data that might otherwise reach the inquisition.

Page 261

The captain of the Arbites curtly entered the office and stood to atten­tion. He was a tall, solid man, dressed for battle and brandishing a bolter.

- Arbites officer wielding a bolter.

Page 269

She was lying on her side, still wearing the fluted angel-wing jump pack, for she had landed badly on the thin promontory of rock which arced over the sea. Instinctively she checked her auto-senses. The respirator in her power armour was working hard to filter out the toxins in the air, and warn­ing runes flashed all over her retinal display.

- Sororitas armour does have auto senses and a respirator with the suit.

PAge 272

The crushing power smashed Castus to his knees with an involuntary scream of panic. Deep in his mind he scrabbled madly, grasping for the memories that were stripped from him and were incinerated by the force of Parmenides's malice. Endless hours of battle blistered and died. The liturgies of the Ultramarines were blasted from his memory. And below even that, a past, a childhood, all were flayed away and burned. The threads of personality that had held him together melted in the psychic fire until all that was left were the most base instincts. The flame left him seared clean of all that had made him a Space Marine of the Emperor. Castus was reduced to an animal with no morals, no duty, no memory of the almighty Imperium that had borne him.

And no faith.

Part of what amounts to the corruption of a Space Marine. It starts by creating doubts and fears in the mind, and then presumably this creates a gap to be exploited. pyschic domination follows, paralyzing the materine and then stripping away everything.,

Page 274

As they withdrew from the burning ruins of the city of Saafir, the Impe­rial forces found Sister Aescarion, broken and shattered. Her fellow Sororitas had taken her from the rubble and transported her to the Order Hospitaller in the Ecclesiarchal Palace on Terra. In the dark majesty of that most ancient of worlds, the priests and apothecaries grafted new skin on to her back and furnished her with a new suit of black power armour and white dalmatic from her Order's vaults. They gave her back her hair, so her red-brown ponytail hung between her shoulder blades as if it had never been seared away. But she still had her scars, tiny scorches around her hairline, like hundreds of toothmarks.

- a Sororitas sister has new skin and hair grafted onto her badly-burned body, and looks virtually new.

Page 275

At once the Ultramarine armour had been fused to his muscular frame. The blue surface and white Chapter symbol blistered off and the plas-teel plates transformed into a living metal which thickened and split, drawing itself into biological curves which oozed dark fluid at the joints. Sometimes he could catch scenes reflected in the dull surface - a darkness descending from the skies, the tear that splits reality in two, Nurgle himself emerging laughing from the shattered remains of the galaxy.

The Plaguebearers that attended to him brought him a morningstar. The haft was cut from the leg bone of some monstrous beast, and the head had been hacked from a stone so black it drank hungrily at the light, and a dark halo played about it constantly. To hold it, he had a new hand made of overlapping plates of dark purple crystal, which flexed and gripped with a cold, alien strength.

On his other arm was a shield as tall as he was, bound in layers of human skin. The varying shades had been wrought into the triple-orbed symbol of Nurgle, and it was drenched in such sorcerous elixirs that it could turn the blows of gods.

The helm they placed on his head had a single eye-slit through which he seemed to see better than with any auto-senses. This was just as well because his implants had soon fled him, wriggling out of his new flesh like metallic maggots.

The Plaguebearers looked upon him with approval in their single glowing eyes, their ever-grinning mouths stretching wider. Castus held his new arms high above him and screamed a never-ending scream, so that even Nurgle on his throne of decay would hear him in the warp and perhaps smile a little at the dedication of his new servant.

A corrupted Ultramarines is re-built in the image of a Nurgle champion.

Page 275-276

The graceful black Sororitas armour flashed in the light of Sister Johannes's hand flamer as it spat a gout of blue-hot flame into the centre of the circle, carving a charred canyon through the torso of one and setting two others alight. The cultists howled, spinning like madmen as the blazing chemical adhering ot their skin tore its way into their muscles and orgasn, until their unholy life was bruend frrom them. They slumped to the ground, skeletons of smouldering ash.

This implies a ratehr focused dischrage of a hand flamer, somewhere in the MJ range I assume. The fuel, whatever it is, is incredibly energetic, as it creamtes all the soft flesh off of the skeletons of at least two if not three cultists. 20% of the human body (overall) is skeleton, 20% is mass, the other stuff is non-combustible tissues (including water.) 56 kilograms will be fat and meat.. 42 of which I believe is about meat. Call it 5 MJ per kg to evaporate water content (about 40 kg ignoring bones) which is ~200 MJ which must be added. With around 14 kg of fat, that could be 560 MJ total (fat has a density ~40 MJ/kg IIRC) although is unlikely to be highly efficient. the non fat portion and non water bit - call it 13 kg or so. That could be easily burned (as could be say half the water content).. but I imagine that at least several tens or 100 MJ per person would have to come from the flamer, ignoring efficiencies. And this for a hand flamer no less.

Even disregarding the calcs above, whicha re a bit confusing, the fact that a handheld flamer can completely incinerate three bodies (even if human fat contributes most of that energy), is damn impressive.

Page 276

The majority of the hulk had been deserted, and they had spent days picking off the few lifeforms on the scanner.

..

...the ancient scanning device's pale green glow lighting her face. It showed that she was no longer a young maiden, fresh from the Schola Progenium - they had been hunting darkness for a long time now together.

scanning devices against a spacehulk.

Page 277

The Sisters threw their krak grenades into the space beyond. Aescarion's auto-senses snapped her pupils shut in front of the sudden light.
She was not afraid. She just wanted to see if he really was here, at last.

The flare died down and the captain's suite was revealed in tatters, its elaborate hangings and fine furnishings first defiled by the presence of corruption, then scoured clean by the armour-piercing shrapnel. The intricate murals on the ceiling could just be made out under the filth and scorching, and at the far end a huge, ornate window looked out into space, a black velvet tapestry studded with a billion points of light.

The quartet of blasts had not killed him. Aescarion had not expected them to.

- Krak grenades with an explosion that creates an omnidirectional release of "armor piercing shrapnel" Not exactly a shaped charge. Perhaps it si some form of "explosively formed projectile with a multi-shot/area of effect ability (shapes and propels multiple armor piercing projectiles.)


PAge 278

Aescarion's auto-senses told her that the armour was pumping painkillers through her battered frame at an alarming rate. The pain was stemmed but she could clearly feel that the whole left side of her body had been badly damaged.

- Sorirtas armour will dump painkillers into the bloodstream to suppress pain/inujury

Page 279

Aescarion took a teleport homer from her belt and flicked it to Transmit. "I would beg to disagree."

A score of punctures opened up in space-time as the teleport beams locked onto the signal and sent their cargo. Three squads of Battle Sisters materialised with a thunderclap.
In the time it took them to pull the triggers of their bolters, Castus had realised that the woman had used his savouring of the victory to her advantage.

- Sorotias forcees have teleporters (and teleport homers)

P{age 280

The room was of similar black stone, an elaborate mosaic of the Order's symbol cov­ering the floor, and all around hung ancient standards and litanies held in power fields to prevent their ageing

- standards and (written) litanies held in power fields to prevent their ageing.

Page 280

Standing in the centre of the room, stripped of her armour and dressed only in her simple Sororitas robes, Aescarion lost half of her bulk. She was slender but wiry, with a strange pent-up energy that marked her out as a fine leader.

- Soroitas without her armour has lost "half her bulk"

Page 281

The next time he stopped to think about what he had become, Castus did not recognise a human being. He had died, and not noticed. Where once his blood flowed there was stagnant, brackish sludge. Where once organs had throbbed with life, there were desiccated twists of petrified flesh. He was not truly alive, but knitted together and animated by the millions of diseases which Nurgle's unholy touch had introduced.
The shield's covering of skin had developed senses - when it fended off blows, he felt pain. The morningstar had become a part of him, the crys­talline fist fused around the haft of bone. The helmet had slowly melted and reformed until it and his skull were one. Through its slit he saw only mottled shades of green and purple, the more diseased the brighter. He was something he no longer recognised.

More of the ransformation into a Nurgle champion.

Page 283

The hall had been a chapel thousands of years ago, rebuilt and absorbed as the Ecclesiarchal palace spread itself across the continent. The grey stonework had been carved with stern gothic fluting, the ceiling was high and vaulted and the air was cold. In the middle of the hall was a large table around which sat the delegates, perhaps a score of them. All but one of them were mere presences. The lights set high in the chapel's ceiling hid.their hooded faces.

The Minsitorum chapel on aerth is, like all other buildings, contiennt sized.

Page 283

In the centre of them all sat the only visible being, the inquisitor. He was still dressed in his ceremonial Terminator armour, elaborately inlaid with precious stones, with the massive scarlet Inquisitorial seal on the ring of the power-glove. He had an intense face, drawn and lined, not with age, but with the terrors his calling had forced him to endure, and it looked incongruous amongst the great shifting plasteel plates that gave him the bulk of a walking tank.

It seems like an awful damn lot of Inquisitors wear Terminator armour.

Page 283

The inquisitor raised his unarmoured hand and a servitor somewhere in the back of the room caused a stellar map to be projected into the air above the centre of the table. A network of fine lines and icons appeared, marking out the western edge of the Segmentum Pacificus. One planet was highlighted.

Western edge of segmentum pacificus showing how far away from TErra the target planet is. If we knew the time it would take to reach the planet we might estimate FTL speed.

Page 284

"One of the forces which governs this galaxy, and the Imperium within it, is Fate. It is a strange force which cannot be manipulated, only accepted and worked around."
"Part of the reason the Imperium has endured is because we take Fate into account."

Self explanatory. When magic is real you take fate seriously.

Page 286

Wearily they began to circle once more, weighing their weapons in their hands. Aescarion knew her chances were slight. She was Castus's match in skill but not strength, and she had none of his toughness. She had faced him twice before, and each time her broken body had needed the atten­tions of the Orders Hospitaller to heal.

in close combat a space MArine, esp a CSM is better than a Sororitias.

Page 288

He spread those fingers and, with what little strength he had left, plunged them into his breastplate. The metal split along the lines which Aescarion's axe had scored, laying open the diseased torso which had been enclosed since he first set foot on Saafir.

The dead organs had been hollowed out and the rotting loops of vis­cera were gone. Now in his distended ribcage there hung a slim metal cylinder, harmless in appearance - until the daemon prince's psychic sight perceived the gothic letters inscribed upon it:

IN EXTERMINATUS EXTREMIS.

DOMINA, SALVE NOS.

Sergeant Castus of the Ultramarines looked Parmenides the Vile in the eye, and tasted joyfully the fear he saw there.

'Damnatio tuum.’ he whispered, and the white light of purity blasted him clean for all eternity.

Daemon oblitereated by a small, blessed bomb. Implied to be an exterminatus munition of some kind. Rather a powerful capability in a small package even if its technobabble.

[Connor MacLeod]

Next LTGB update. By the way, if you're wondering why I am slow ass on updating still, I intended to post the update sometime over the weekend, but my internet crapped out. And on top of that I've been busy with RL, and I've also been trying to prepare som fo my older novel analysis (Like the Bill King Space Wolf novels) for eventual posting, as well as finding time to look through some of the FFG material for posting at last (starting with Dark Heresy.. haven't touched anything else.) I'm at least almost done with the redos on novels (I hope) and I should be able to get a buncha DH stuff ready. When I will post it? no fucking clue. Alot of DH stuff has built up since I first started looking.

Anyhow, the real highlight of the update (IMHO at least) is the "Ancient History" short story, with Kron the "not-Luminen" dude, by Andy Chambers. IT gives some interesting insight into what Andy at least thought BFg should be (compared to what the attitudes of other writers/sources turned it into, at least.) as well as hints at earlier fluff. enjoy!

Page 289

Brother Ramesis, chaplain of the 4th Company of the Salamanders Space Marine Chapter, felt the craft hit an area of low pressure and drop several hundred feet in a couple of seconds, pushing him up into the harness which secured him to the inner side of the gunship's fuselage.

~100 meters in a few seconds.. couple of gees of acceleration perhaps. Marines handle it easily.

Page 289

He felt pressure on his back as the Thunder-hawk's machinery implanted his backpack into the socket along his armour's spine, then dropped the ablative shoulder pads down on either side of his head.

Ablative shoulder pads.

Page 290

With the invocation complete, Ramesis slid the firing stud in the haft of the crozius into its forward, active position. With a simple press of his fin­ger, the eagle of the crozius would be surrounded by a shimmering disruption field, capable of smashing bone and shattering the thickest armour.

Crozius Arcanum.

Page 291

Ramesis placed the helm over his head, twisting it slightly so that the vacuum seals clamped into place. He turned a dial on his left wrist and the helmet pressurised with the rest of the power armoured suit.

"Tactical display." the chaplain commanded his armour, and his vision was filled with an enhanced image of the outside: details of temperature, atmospheric pressure, light density and other factors were superimposed over his sight. As he rolled his head left and right to check the suit's cali­bration, Ramesis swiftly completed the other pre-battle procedures, double-checking the suit's power and exhaust assembly, the internal envi­ronment monitors, targeting crosshairs and myriad other systems that would keep him alive in the midst of battle, even in the depths of space.

Tactical display in Chaplain armour. May be similar to the "terrorsight" or "Preysight" used in other novels (Lord of the Night, angels of Darkness, etc.)

Page 293

The sudden increase in g-forces would have crushed a normal man, but Ramesis hardly even noticed, protected by the strength of his genetically modified physique and further enhanced by his ancient suit of power armour.

Space MArines can ignore g forces which would "crush" a normal man. Implied to be in excess of ten gees (tens of gees?) and part of that compensated for by the armour itself.

Page 293

Even carried across several miles by the comm-net, Nubean's voice was as clear to Ramesis as if he were next to him. The chaplain signalled an affirmative and then switched frequencies to address the Space Marines under his own command.

- Astartes commlinks have a range of at least "several miles"


Page 293

A few miles to the north ahead of them, the plains rose quickly into the foothills that eventually became a sharp mountain range. In every other direction stretched leagues of cereal plants, heavy with grain. The major­ity of Slato's landmass was given over to farming. Food grown here would feed the workers on mining worlds and industrial hive planets. Without such agri-worlds, the Imperium's labour forces would starve and the eter­nal manufacturing of arms and armour would cease, spelling the end for mankind's presence in the sector. It was paramount that Slato did not fall into the hands of the eldar.

Agri worlds are vital for feeding certain worlds like hive worlds.

"Sergeant Lysonis, activate your auspex. See if you can detect anything within those woods." Ramesis's order was quiet but authoritative.

"We risk the eldar detecting the signal, chaplain. They may not know we are here yet." Lysonis cautioned.

"Rest assured, sergeant." Ramesis informed him. "The eldar are very aware of our presence. Even if their machines did not locate us, their mind-magic will undoubtedly have detected our presence by now."

The sergeant's head was bowed as he unhooked the auspex from his utility belt and adjusted the dials. As he held it in one hand, passing it left and right in the direction of the woods, its screen threw a flickering green glow onto the black paint of his armour, harshly lighting the helmet from underneath, so that he almost looked like some daemon from the pits of Chaos. Lysonis adjusted one of the many brass dials set next to the dis­play, then tapped a switch into a different position.

"There are definitely human-sized life signals within the woods, chap­lain, possibly a dozen or more," Lysonis reported, replacing the arcane device on his belt and pulling his power sword from its scabbard.

Auspex use, eldar possibility of detection. Seems to be a lifeform sensor, mainly.


Page 293

'
Around him the Salamanders charged forward too, echoing his battle cry. The air was filled by a soft whistling noise and Ramesis noticed tiny slivers of crystal starting to patter off the armour of the Space Marines around him. Looking into the woods once again, half-seen shadows of movement caught Ramesis's attention as another volley of fire swept into the Space Marines. Behind him Ramesis heard a startled cry. He looked back over his shoulder to see what had happened. One of the Space Marines of Squad Delphus, Brother Lastus, was clutching at his helmet with one hand. Another member of the squad turned on his heel to grab Lastus's arm and haul him forwards. As the chaplain looked on, the tox­ins contained within the crystal sliver were already seeping into Lastus's bloodstream. The Space Marine gave a choked cry and his body began to shudder. The power armour amplified the shivering Space Marine's move­ments into flailing paroxysms as Lastus dropped his boltgun and fell to one knee.

"Sniper's needle hit Brother Lastus in the eye-plate." Sergeant Delphus reported over the comm-Iink.

Needle round can penetrate Astartes eyeplate, but hitting elsewhere it's damn useless. Oddly no laser component to the needle gun is mentioned, or else Astarts armor is simply too tough to be penetrated by the needler's laser.

PAge 296

Ramesis aimed his pistol, the crosshair imposed over his vision fixing on the eldar's hooded face. He could see its thin, pointed nose, the delicate features of its high cheeks and brow, and a pair of large eyes glittering with alien intelligence. The chaplain squeezes softly on the trigger and a moment later the eldar's skull exploded, the headless body flung forward several metres by the bolt's detonation.

gunsight crosshair from gun imposed over visor. Eldar skull exploded by the bolt and body sent flying.

Page 296

As he reached the treeline, Ramesis found three more alien bodies. The first had two massive holes blown in its chest, another's leg was ripped off at the hip while the third had been turned into an almost unidentifiable crimson mess by several simultaneous bolter hits.

Bolter wounds. Several simultaneous hits totally pulverize one body.

The armour of another Space Marine lay close by, sprawled in the grass like a casually discarded doll. The chaplain could see a neat hole in the flexible armour of the warrior's left hip joint where the needle shot had entered. The shot must have hit a major artery for it to have killed the bio-enhanced Space Marine so quickly.
'

Another needle hit taking a weak point, this time with a hole. Additional accuracy is needed to place it near an artery in order to rapidly kill a marine (presumably too fast for the immune system to kcik in or fight)

Page 297

That's an old Mark VI Regis pattern. It can compensate for the loss of one eye by obosting another signal through the remaining optical link."

Benefits of a particular kind of Marine helmet.


Page 297

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Ramesis's vision was augmented by the aura-intensifier of his helmet, bathing his view of the landscape in a red sheen. From the crest of a ridge the chaplain could see the repeated glow of the Imperial Guard guns, further up into the mountains
..
With the aid of the artificial eyes of his armour, the chaplain could see the shimmering heat surrounding the advancing force, plumes of pure white jetting from the exhaust vents cut into their armoured backpacks. Their guns glowed a dim red, which Ramesis knew could only mean they had been involved in a protracted battle.

Chaplains' helmet has an "aura intensifier" - infrared/thermal vision.



Page 298

"They came in fast, carried inside two fast, skimming transports, our weapons unable to penetrate the force shields protecting the vehicles. There was another anti-grav tank there too, glid­ing out around us, trying to pick us off with rapid volleys from a pulse laser. Brother Kolenn managed to take it down with his lascannon, but not before Squad Mauria lost three warriors. We were mostly facing regu­lar line troops, which did not present much of a challenge. Their shuriken catapults were unable to penetrate our armour, while our bolters punched them off their feet with every shot! It was the specialists, the ones they call Striking Scorpions, that caused me the most consternation - we've fought them before, Ramesis..."

shielded eldar Transports implies wave-skimmers. Shruiken catapults don't penetrate Marine armoour. Same can't be said of bolters, even against STriking Scorpions. although bolters are useless against wave S kimmers (predictably)

Page 298

"Their armour was as good as ours; our bolters were virtually useless."

Page 298

"It was well we did not try to mount an airborne landing at the battle sector itself. We came across a pair of the enemy's anti-aircraft vehicles about four miles back. They have gigantic crystalline
lasers; they would have shot the Thunderhawks out of the sky with ease."

Implies a range of Eldar antiaircraft fire of at least 4 miles, probably quite a bit more. Presuambly they do not horribly outrange Imperial AAA.

PAge 299
[quoe]
The captain pointed to a Space Marine whose left arm ended at the elbow in a blackened stump,


...

"Brother Kahli's plasma gun detonated, but he brought two of the enemy down first," Nubean explained. "That's the fourth time in the last seven missions I have had a plasma weapon failure, though this is the first time it has been so catastrophic. I will have to have words with the Master of the Forges when we return."[/quote]

Plasma gun detonation seems to leave a MArine mostly intact, although burns off his arm (presumably the one holding the gun)

Page 301

The Space Marines reached the pickets of the Imperial Guard force with­out encountering any more eldar, though twice Zambias informed them that an enemy psyker had tried to break through the Epistolary's psychic shield.

Librairian provides psychic protection for his marine force against Eldar predation.

Page 302 - Space Marines can go at least 18 hours without sleep.

page 303

"Your men require food and sleep. We do not!" Ramesis felt like he was stating the obvious. "If your men do not receive these things, their combat
performance is adversely affected. We have no such weakness. We can fight for a month on the proteins contained within our armour recycling systems alone. You also suffer from stress-related physical and mental disorders over protracted periods of conflict, which is why I will ignore these insults. Our brothers will stand watch. Please do not question the captain's wisdom again."

Space marine endurance.

Page 304

"That is a definite warp-coil energy wave." the tech-priest said slowly, as a patient adult would address a child. "Our suspicions were correct: this edi­fice is capable of opening a warp gate, enabling objects to pass through. Rather large objects if my calculations are correct. However, there have been some anomalies. The wave signature is not consistent with any point of warp-interface we are aware of. It is as if it led to somewhere that is part of the warp, yet is separate from it."

Describing the mechanism of a waygate from an AdMech PoV. Still dont know about a waygate.

Page 305

The Imperial Guardsmen sent a steady stream of volleys into the dark­ness, the harsh white flare of their lasguns burning brightly against the dark. Sleek beams of blue energy struck back from the shadows, followed by a succession of flickering plasma bolts which impacted into the ground with blinding explosions. Ramesis's suit had automatically imposed a filter over his visor to stop his vision being impaired by the glaring light of the attacks, but he knew that the Guardsmen would have difficulty seeing anything in the darkness. As he watched, a fist-sized star of energy shot from the gloom and impacted into the chest of a Guards­man, flinging his ragged corpse a dozen metres across the ground. Ramesis could hear the bellowed orders of the Imperial Guard sergeants, and in the occasional seconds of near-silence his ears picked up the shrill whine of eldar shuriken catapults tearing through the night air

Energy weapon fire. note the "fist sized" energy bolt of unknown nature which hits a guardsman and knocks them a dozen metres back, but apaprently not exploding or burning at all. Marine visors, unlike the Guardsmen, allow them to see in the Dark.

PAge 305

- the Chaplain, armed with a bolt pistol, is waiting for the Eldar to get within range of him. Give bolt pistol ranges in "angels of darkness" (Between 300-600 metres range) this sets a lower limit on the above firefight.


Page 305

Checking to his left, Ramesis saw the heat auras of several eldar craft skimming forward slowly, silently stalking towards the Imperial position.

"Magnify." he told his suit, and his field of vision suddenly zoomed in on the faint shimmering lines of three eldar war machines. They flitted a couple of metres above the ground, dodging between the scattered rocks and trees. They were long and sleek, with a curved armoured canopy at the front and an exposed gun cradle to the back. Ramesis recognised them instantly as the craft he had been told the eldar called Serpents or Vypers, something like that; swift two-man attack vehicles armed with a lethal heavy weapon. As they came closer, the sleek, menacing lines of the craft could be seen more clearly, gliding steadily towards the Imperial defenders.

Image magnification.

Page 306

A sudden glow from the slen­der weapon of the closest craft indicated a heat build-up, and a moment ater a blue bolt of energy sliced out of the night, punching cleanly through the armour of Brother Kammia where he stood on the hillside fifty metres to Ramesis's right. The Space Marine stood there for a second as if nothing had happened, faint wisps of vapour steaming from the gap­ing hole through his torso.

Probably from a las-weapon the Eldar use, as their plasma weapons are treated separate from the "blue beams" described earlier (and this was a blue beam.)

Unless of course the Eldar have something more exotic. Anyhow, we could calculate it if we knew the size of the wound. That it penetrates perhaps 20 cm through, including several inches (Front to back) of Astartes plate.

Page 306

For a second it appeared that the missile had not seen its targets; its course would take it straight past the last Vyper. Then the spirit within the missile became aware of the aliens swooping past and with a small flicker of a guidance jet it altered course. A moment later the krak warhead exploded, turning the rearmost of the three craft into a rapidly expanding ball of flame which tumbled into the ground with another explosion.

Missile launcher has guided rounds.

Page 306

Ramesis had been caught in a hail of fire from a shuriken catapult, an alien creation that could send a storm of razor-sharp discs slicing through their target. The chaplain's ancient armour had held firm, though, and a row of the monomolecular-edged discs spread in a neat line from just below his left shoulder to his right hip. When the battle was won he
would have Techmarine Orlinia carefully remove them so that Ramesis could keep them as a memento of the battle.

Chaplain's armour immune to shuriken fire.

Page 306

Each bolt traced into the shadwos on a tiny tail of flame, to explode a second later with a distinctive cracking noise.

A second travel time from firing to target, thereabouts. Hundreds of metres at least, since IIRC bolter rounds are distinctly supersonic in other novels. Assuming the 300-600 metr range from AoD, we could be talking 300-600 m/s. This isn't an unreasonable assessment, the HH novels describe the Luna wolves as using both "subsonic" and "supersonic" bolt rounds, and the Soul Drinkers novels further notes that HEresy Era weapons tended to be of lower velocity than modern ones.

Page 307

Most of the troopers who had fallen were dead, shredded by shuriken, blown apart by starcannon plasma bolts or torn in half by high-powered laser weapons. Ramesis was looking at one corpse in particular, that of a young corporal whose face looked so serene and at peace. Strange, Ramesis thought in a detached fashion, considering his legs and half his spine have been vaporised. Then Ramesis's comm-link chimed and the body was instantly forgotten.

Effects of Eldar weapons on guardsmen. We dont know what kind of laser weapons "tear in half" people, or the settings (A sustained/cutting beam of low power could do that easily) Starcannon blowing them apart could be single digit MJ (grenade/TNT level, much like certain types of bolters.)


Page 317

The Voice was inside Joshua's head, felt rather than heard. He knew the Voice well, for it had spoken to him many times over the last few years. At first the young man had been afraid of the Voice, but over time he had felt less and less threatened, despite the strange things it sometimes said. This was the first time that the Voice had been in one of his dreams, though, and it was stronger, somehow louder than normal.

Daemon (Eg voice) speaks to Joshua in his dreams. It seems that sleeping puts a person at greater vulnerability, or access, to the warp.

Page 318

You would not let me into your dreams before. You did not trust me until tonight. Now you know that I am your friend, I can speak to you anywhere. It was you who let me into your dream, Joshua.

Trust seems to be a vital component in possession, at least n this indirect manner. I dobut it woudl amtter much with a more direct contact/access (EG ritual.)

Page 318

The Voice was very persuasive. It knew everything about Joshua; his childhood, his thoughts, his emotions. In the lonely times since Joshua had fled from the mob who had once been his friends and relations, it had been his companion, soothing his troubled thoughts with its pres­ence. The Voice always knew the exact right things to say to make him forget the loneliness. It had taught him so many things about the gifts he had been given, the gifts the ignorant peasants of his village had called witchery.

The Voice had explained everything. It had taught Joshua how others were jealous of his talents and how, out of jealousy, they became angry. It had shown him the way to practice his skills, so that he could control them, rather than letting them take him over. Sometimes it had asked him to do things, unpleasant things, but Joshua had always refused, and the Voice had never been angry, never shouted or complained. It had been like a father to Joshua, ever since his real father had reported him to the Preacher and Joshua had been forced to flee or be burnt at the stake.

Come, Joshua, in this world where you are a hero. Your adventure awaits you.

The voice (Daemon) can influence the mind in a very persuasive manner. not only is compliance neccessary, but low willpower (or some other sort of negative trait, like resentment, or hate, or loneliness.)

The real danger it would seem would be that it could be wearing on a person to resist night after night, week after week. A daemon can be patient I imagine.

Page 319

As he reached another fork in the tunnels, more daemons ran into view, each as twisted and ghastly as the first he had encountered. They held wands and staffs that began firing bolts of white lightning at Joshua. As they exploded against the walls all around him, the young man ducked back into a side passage. Joshua used his mind to weave a shield around himself. Glorious power flowed through his limbs, creating a shifting miasma of miniature stars which whirled around his body. Stepping out into the main tunnel once more, Joshua advanced towards the daemons. Their energy bolts flared harmlessly off Joshua's mental shield, but more and more were arriving.

The "wands" (lasguns) can be stopped by a psychically generated shield.

Page 320

Joshua held up his hands and concentrated. Each fist burst into eye searing purple flames and he hurled the balls of magical fire at his foes. The sorcerous flames exploded around the tunnel, engulfing a handful of daemons an dburning them in an instant and scattering their ashes through the air. Joshua hurled mroe fireballs, incinerating the daemons as they charrged towards him, the storm of their lightning blasts dissipating harmlessly around him.

Cremating bodies in an "instant" via warp fire. high MW/low GW firepower.

Page 321

I have not! You must trust me. This is no real obstacle. Merely break the bars and continue.

"But how can I bend these?" Joshua demanded. "Even the strongest man could not move this portcullis, and I am weak and feeble."

You hear me, but you do not listen, Joshua! Others have said you are weak, but you know that you are strong. You are stronger than any full grown man. Listen to me, not the doubts placed in your head by fools who
do not under­stand you. Who would you believe? Peasants who grub in the dust and dirt all day, or me, who has already shown you so much, brought you so much?

I guess you're right, Joshua thought, though he was still unsure. He grabbed two of the bars in his hands and strained with all of his meagre muscles. They did not move an inch. Panting, with sweat dripping down his cheeks, Joshua stood back.

"I told you! I'm not strong enough." he complained.

Stop whining, Joshua, you sound like one of those pathetic preachers who ser­monise about the follies of the universe without ever having left their shrines! Bend the bars with your mind, not your body. There you are strong, there you have power.

Joshua took several deep breaths and stepped up to the portcullis once more. Closing his eyes, he grasped the bars again. The metal felt hard and cold in his hands, but he began to pull at them, this time imagining them to be as flimsy as reeds. When he opened his eyes the bars of the portcullis were rent from the frame, leaving a twisted gap wide enough for him to slip through.

Seems to be a sort of tactile TK. Joshua, at least at this point, needed contact with the bars to bend them with his mind.

Page 321

Almost contritely, he focused his mind, making his body supple and lithe, almost boneless. With this achieved, he found he could pass through the narrow crevasse with ease.

Psyker can also do a polymorphine like trick as ASsassins can.

Page 324

He closed his eyes and hung his head in his hands. The preachers had always warned that the daemons of the warp could possess a person, drive him to do things like this. Joshua's mind reeled.

They had said that... that the ancient, formless denizens of the Empyrean were formed from the sins of the impure and craved after the material universe like a starving man hungers for bread. They could not normally enter the realm of the living, but instead guided unwitting mor­tals, and sometimes willing servants, to help them break through the boundaries separating the spaces between the stars.

They sought to dominate other creatures, to make them subservient to their immortal and alien whims and needs. It was why they sought out witches and warlocks, because they were the best tools for such mon­strosities. It was why the Inquisition and Ecclesiarchy were always hunting down those of magical prowess.

what a peasant like Joshua knows about daemons and the warp. Clearly in this case, it didn't help much.

Page 328

There were rumours that Imperial ships would come from Port Maw to Lethe, but everyone said that sort of thing when there was a war among the stars.

This would seem to be occuring during the Gothic War. Lethe must be in teh Gothic sector.

Page 329

Nathan was inducted into a gun crew: number six gun of the port deck, known to its crew as Balthasar. Him, Kendrikson, the tired-eyed man -who introduced himself as Fetchin - and five others were beaten, stripped, shaved, deloused, tattooed with their serial numbers and issued with dun-coloured coveralls, apparently tailored so that their one size would fit no one. The gun officer for Balthasar, a Lieutenant Gabriel, seemed decent enough and didn't revel in their humiliation. He and his enforcers, his armsmen, simply crashed their individuality and made it clear that they were to obey orders and cause no trouble. He was even good enough to explain to them that men were a commodity on a war­ship, like food or fuel or ammunition. When the ship ran out, it came to a world to resupply.

starship's gun crew.

Page 329

They were set to work in a gunroom, a cavernous, hangar-like space which reeked of grease and ozone. It was part-filled by cranes and gantries but dominated by the breech of Balthasar, apparently some sort of gigantic cannon as big as a house and neted at the centre of an insane web of power coils, chains, coolant pipes, wiring, hydraulic rams and less eaisly identifable attachments.

This starship cannon is "as big as a house", which doesnt really tell us much (other than teh shells are areguably smaller than it.) The need for power coils and coolant piping suggest it does not rely on chemical porpulsion of any kind. an EM gun, perhaps.

Page 329-330

Food breaks were accompanied by the arrival of the crewmen the old hands referred to as armsmen. They came through one of the two heavy pressure doors that led into the gunroom, from the direction which Nathan had nominated as 'south'. The armsmen wore leather harnesses over their coveralls and carried long clubs and stubby pistols or shotguns.

..
Again, it was Kron who explained the purpose of the armsmen's vigil to the new recruits. "They're here to make sure everyone gets their own share, lads.’ Kron told diem. 'An' that nobody takes what isn't theirs."

Fetchin seemed shocked. "So yer can't even keep a crumb for later? Or swap some wi' yer mate."

Food time aboard ship.

page 330

"Was a time, years ago, when we had a... bad captain. He didn't keep a watch, boys. Was alright at first, the bully boys didn't take too much and no one starved. But then we were caught in a storm 'tween Esperance and the K-star for months, the ether was torn apart by cross-chasers and remnants so much that it was all the Navigators could do to keep us from being lost. Pretty soon men's hunger made 'em desperate, an' desperate men'll do terrible things."

Difference between a good captain and a bad one.

Page 330

At the end of each workshift the crew slept in a low bunkroom beneath the gundeck. armsmen arrived to drive them below, although they needed little persuasion to drop their tools and find their way down into the gloomy, red-lit chamber. There were no exits from the bunkroom sav­ing the hatch which led back up to the gunroom, cleansing and purging was undertaken in ridiculously small metal cubicles off the bunkroom.

Sleeping arrangements on board ship, at least for gun decks. No hammocks at least.

Page 333

Fetchin slid down the bulkhead leaving a bloody smear, a fist-sized wedge of raw flesh and entrails blasted from his midriff.

Effect of armsman shotgun on daemon-possessed gun crewer. About comparabel to what a normal shotgun would do to a person with solid shot, although whether or not the endurance was warp enhanced is unknown.

Page 333

Kron had told them where were forty guns with forty crews each, ,that's sixteen hundred, another gundeck on the other side for three thousand two hundred. Then there were the lance turrets, port and starboard, nobody seemed to know just how big the crews for thsoe beasts were, call it another sixteen hundred a piece.

...

That was six and a half thousand souls (give or take). THe torps probably had a crew much bigger than a single gun but less than a whole deck - maybe a thousand. That made seven and a half... engines must be at least two or three thousand more..

.

Nate tries to work out the crew of the ship from what he knows. We learn there are 40 guns per broadside (presumably all projectile guns), plus lance turrets (one per side, thereabouts, going by numbers). 10K or so crew. This would suggest a cruiser sized vessel, although we have to note Nate can hardly be called the most reliable source (although its certain Kron was a primary source of data, and his knowledge/reliability is a big unknown.) At the elast, it might be a lower limit, and we don't know really what kind of ship it is (although having lances it probably can't be escort unless its a really big frigate.)


Page 333

Nathan wouldn't like to have to guess Kron's years. Apparent age varied so much from one world to another that it was a long shot at best. Take into account all the warp-time Kron must have had and Nathan would be naming a figure somewhere between sixty and three hundred. In the time it took him to think that, a slithering sound came from above and sud­denly Kron was there, pipe in hand, right beside Nathan's bunk

Time dilation from the warp can fuck with a person's age.

Page 334-335

"But in time food and water and air ran short on Man's island and he looked to the far islands again. Because he could not bear the cold of the ocean deeps, he fashioned Men of Stone to go in his place, and the Stone Men fashioned Men of Steel to become their hands and eyes. And the Stone Men went forth with their servants and swam in the deep oceans. They found many strange things on the far islands, but none as strange or as wicked as the things that swam in the depths between them; ancient, hungry things older than Man himself."

"But these beasts of the deep hungered for the true life of Man, not the half-life of Stone, so the Stone Men swam unmolested. At first all was well
and the Men of Stone planted Man's Seed on many islands, and in time Man learned to travel the oceans himself, hiding in Stone ships to keep out the cold and the hunger of the beasts. All was well and Men spread to many islands far across the ocean, such that some even forgot how they came to be there and that they ever came from just one island at all."

Kron's tale wound on, telling of how the stone men became estranged from humanity by their journeys through the void. This led to a time of strife when the Men of Steel turned against their stone masters and mankind was riven asunder by wars. A thousand worlds were scoured by the ancient, terrible weapons of those days before the Men of Stone were overthrown, and a million more burned as flesh fought against steel. Worst of all, the beasts arose and were worshipped as gods by the sur­vivors. Once proud and mighty, Man was reduced to a rabble of grovelling slaves. Finally one came who freed man from his shackles and showed him a new way to reach for the stars. This path was forged from neither stone nor steel but simple faith. Faith guarded Man from the beasts of the void as steel or stone could never do.

A little parable told by Kron, likely somewhat allegorical as a telling of Mankind's exploration of the star. We get the Men of Iron (robots?) men of Stone (sound like Squats, but I dont think that's it.) I have no idea what this si suppsoed to be hinting or about or where the history would originate from. I'm betting someoen else does, though.

Page 336

He told Kron about how he and Kendrikson had both served on the Pandora, an ageing lugger hauling ore and oxygen between the outer mines of Lethe. He even told him about how they had both actually been in the pay of a businessman dedicated to transporting goods of a rare, valuable and illegal nature with no questions asked.
Nathan had just got to their last voyage on the Pandora, and how Kendrikson had sold him out to the pirates when their skulking stalkers attacked.

Transport. Unknown if it was interstellar or substellar.

Page 337

Nathan sprang forward towards the last foe, a figure in shipman's cov­eralls bending over the prone body of Kron. Nathan's nape hairs prickled
as the figure lurched up. Blue wych-fires writhed about his limbs like angry snakes and sparks poured from its fingertips. By some reflex Nathan ducked away from a hissing bolt of energy which lashed out from an
out­stretched hand. It still caught him across the left shoulder and sent fiery needles of agony lancing into his very bones.

If he could have shouted in agony he would have, but his lips only parted in a soundless gasp as a wave of numbness washed through him. Nathan fell to his knees on the deck and fought his unresponding body as it dragged him down, down. The figure stepped closer. Through blur­ring eyes Nathan could see the complex weaving of tattoos beneath his skin, glowing through it with lightning-brightness. Even the coveralls were rendered translucent by that glare, and bones stood out coal-black as he raised a spectral hand in a gesture full of menace.

With his final ounces of strength he struck back at his foe the only way he could, hurling the blade stiff-armed as he slid to the deck. Before he blacked out he felt a thunderclap of pressure and a wave of heat before blackness closed over him.

Electro-priest.

Page 337

Smoke was still rising from the corpse beside him and the sweet stench of cooked flesh hung in the air. The thrown blade protruded from the corpse's larynx, and Nathan knew he should never gamble again after fluking that shot. But, despite the blade, the massive burns across the body looked like they had been just as fatal. Vagrant flickers of static still trailed along rigor-stretched limbs. Nathan mustered his courage and stared into the blackened face. It was Kendrikson, patently no mere smuggler after all. He stepped well clear of the corpse as he staggered groggily to where Kron lay.

Third degree burns over teh human body - at least halfa megajoule to a megajoule, or more. Depending on the severeity of third degree burns.

Page 338

Nathan stared at him. Kron seemed to have no recollection of the fight or his bizarre behaviour. Nathan squatted down, watching Kron carefully as he slowly looked about, taking in the carnage around him.

Kron apparently has a dual mind. One afraid of his cybernetic parts, the other not.

Page 338

Kron stood with no apparent signs of pain or weakness, and walked over to Kendrikson's corpse, where he bent down and retrieved a half-melted spanner, i struck him with this.’ he told Nathan. "I didn't realise he was a Luminen"

Spanner "half metled" Even assuming it was one kg or so of iron, or halfa kilo, it would be quite close to a MJ of energy to do so.. corresponding quite easily to the energy inputs for body-wide fatal burns above.

Page 339

"Won't the armsmen follow us down here?"
"Nay lad, wi'out a fully armed servitor crew an' a tech-priest they could-n'a use their guns for fear of cracking somethin"

Indication fo how dangerous the abandoned parts of a starship can be.

Page 342

"Them's muties, shipmen that's spent too long sailin' the void an' lost their faith. The beast song's in their heart now and they live like lice on the innards o' the ship; sometimes they'll even grab compartments and feast on the poor shipboys if they can. Once in a century the captain'll put the ship into port and flush her guts with poison to clear 'em out but 'tween times there's always muties in the crossways and trunks. Seein' as we're in a big war right now there's more than ever, and they'll be lookin' to call the beasts aboard all the time, invite 'em in as it were. Out there's whole squadrons who've succumbed to the beasts in men's hearts in past times, ones I reckon we'll be fightin' soon enough. Kendrikson probably pretended he were possessed to scare 'em into obeying him. The pirates' ship ye saw, did it have a mark on it? A rune or sigil?"

Further indication of just how dangerous certain parts of a ship can be. The only reliable way to remove them is poison (much like dealign with any other vermin.)

Page 342

What made Kendrikson a Luminen and how did that give him lightning in his veins and the power to melt steel like wax?"

Luminen IIRC is another term for an Electro-priest.

PAge 342

They made him a Luminen, toko him an' made crystal stacks of his bones an' electro grafts of his brian, gave 'im skinplants and electros so he could summon lightning and channel it an' much more. HE was a war-child of the Machine God, what the uninitiated call an electro-priest, thoguh not one in a hundred can hide his power an' look like a normal man like he did."

What is done to make said "Luminen" - interesting that Kron knows so mucha bout the AdMech ain't it?

Page 342

Kron nodded solemnly and Nathan suffered a painful insight into the awesome power that organisation wielded within the all-powerful Imperium. Tech-priests ministered to machines and engines on every civilised world, every interstellar ship. The Navy might man its ships but the tech-priests ran them. Their prayers and runes brought life to cold, dead metal and their forge worlds produced weapons in their billions for the Emperor's eternal war against aliens, heretics and traitors

Again, even Nate can realize how damn powerful the AdMech is within the Imperium, esp without the Emperor to ride herd on them.

Page 343

"Many times servants o' the Emperor bury their real selves behind false memgrams and such, makes 'em hard to ferret out even wi' soul-seers. Their real purposes run in the background, watching the puppet show through the eyes and ears until they're in position to accomplish their mission. Then they become a whole different person. The Luminen part was just standing by for orders, but it must have decided that you needed killin' to keep its past buried."

A neat ability for Imperial agents and such.

PAge 344

A dim memory floated forward that the Opticon was involved in observation outside the ship. He certainly knew that the Opticon crew usually worked high up on the main gantries above Balthasar's breech on what amounted to an extra half-deck a good twelve metres up spiral steps of skeletal iron­work.

Description of the opticon. Useful as it has been described many times in BFG supplements.

Page 344-345

He had mixed feelings when he reached the raised deck and saw a row of five shuttered arches lining the hull wall. There were ten in the Opticon crew and the burly rating named Isiah placed two men at each shutter. At first Nathan and Kron busied themselves greasing the shutter runners and cogs at its head and foot. After a quarter watch or so Isiah received a message from the comm-box he carried and relayed an order to raise the shutters. Kron smartly threw a lever and the shutter rose smoothly up to reveal an expanse of black glass which rose higher than his head and as wide as his outstretched arms. As Nathan glanced around at the other crews he noted a sense of nervous anticipation behind their actions, as if raising the shutters was an act of hidden significance.

Nate and Kron seem to be basically acting in fire control crew.

Page 345

Kron turned and ran for a set of lockers at the side of the Opticon cham­ber, hotly pursued by the rest of the crew. The men started pulling on pressure suits which Kron dragged from the lockers. The significance of the situation was becoming readily apparent to Nathan by now. They were going into battle, very soon. Those ridiculously cumbersome-looking, heavy, rubberised pressure suits and thick-bowled helmets could be all that stood between them and the void.

To his surprise, Nathan managed to finish clamping himself into a suit before anyone else.

The helmet locked down onto a broad ring across the shoulders of the suit but had a visor made up of different layers, the last of which was lit­tle more than a slit in the armour plate. He slid back all the layers and saw

Kron had done the same. Nathan felt relieved that he wouldn't have to breathe the stale, sweaty air inside the suit just yet. "How long does this oxygen last?" he asked Kron, tapping the dented brass cylinder plumbed into the side of the suit's chest.

"A watch or so for somun' as big as ye."

"Just eight hours? They don't want us to get any ideas about wandering off, do they?"

"Ye can always get more air on the ship and if ye... part company wi' the ship an' ye're not picked up they wouldnae be able to find ye anyway. Ye'd be drifted too far into the void."

Crews seem to outfit with a pressure suit (armoured) with a hours-long oxygen supply which must be constantly replenished (Security measure.)

Page 346

"That's right lad, 'cause through this glass ye can see as the shp does; heat, light, magnetism, radiants and etherics are all clear to her'. Kron slid out a large circular lens which was attached to the window frame by a system of bras rods and runners. The thick frame of the lens held two number counters and two raised icons. Kron expertly tracked it across the surface of the window. The numberewd wheels of the counters span in response, one horizontal, one vertical.

...

Kron slid the lens across until the metriculators showed 238.00 by 141.00. their search area. At that spot the lens resolved a dark area which had shown occasional vagrant twinklings into an asteroid field, rolling mountains of stone lit by the star's fiery light.

"What are we looking for, Kron, just rocks?" Nathan asked with shaky lev­ity. The old man was tracking the lens back and forth across the field with deft, economical movements. Each time he reached its periphery he depressed one of the runes, and the tumbling stones shown in the lens were outlined in red with strings of numbers showing speed and distance which remained in the glass after the lens slid away.

"Anythin' that might show us where the foe's a'lurkin; a glint here, or a bloom o' heat there," Kron never took his eye from the lens as he spoke, Nathan slid back his topmost, armoured visor so that he could see better.

"You mean engine heat trails like those?" he stated, pointing to a set of nee­dle-thin arcs which shimmered near the edge of the field.

"CONTACT! MARK-TWO-FOUR-ZERO BY ONE-THREE-SEVEN!" Kron roared, Isiah shouting it back, word for word, over the crackling comm.

The lens now showed broad, vaporous trails of red which curved back around the furthest asteroids. There looked to be four to Nathan, although they were already merging and dissipating.

Again.. the "Opticon" - which basically seems to be computerized (computer-asissted) sensors and targeting systems, tied into the ship' smain sensor networks. Although like many things it requires human interaction and input to work.

Page 347

Kron tracked the lens along the trails and cursed as they disappeared behind a glowing streamer of dust. Moments later an incandescent spear­head of heat blossomed out of the cloud, dust and lightning rolled off it in plumes as fhe lens starkly announced it as Enemy vessel [class: Unknown]. 51,0001. Closing.

- They locate the enemy vessel, and its described as "51,000" and closing" Presumably this means 51,000 km.

PAge 347

He could see Baltahsar's breech had been swung open and the gunners were hauling flat plates covered in short spokes into the open maw. E ven through his thick suit he could hear the gunner's cheers as they slammed the sub-munitions home. On the lens light and shadow now etched out the enemy, showed the silhouette of crenallated battle­ments and barbed buttresses as the spearhead rolled abeam on the white-hot stabs of myriad thrusters. Grand cruiser, the display read, Repulsive class.

The ammo looks very very.. odd to say the least. They seem to be submunitions, which suggests the cannon works vaguely shotgun-like.

The glass/sensor/Opticon thingy shows the enemy ship identified as a silhouette.

Interestingly if the vessel is a Grand Cruiser, the Imperial ship facing it arguably is of cruiser class or greater.

PAge 347

A ripple of serried flames geysered from the Repulsive's flank as she completed the turn, and a storm of black specks arrowed towards them. Nathan gasped in horror as a heartbeat later the specks started to explode in gouts of flame. At first they looked distant, small puffs of colour against the void, but the projectiles kept coming, surging forward through the fiery chains to detonate in turn. In moments their view of die enemy was obscured by a firestorm which was rippling ever closer. The flames filled every window in the Opticon by the time Nathan slammed his visor fully shut.

The Repulsive's salvo crashed down on the ship itself with hurricane force. Nathan staggered as the deck rolled beneath him and a mighty, rushing wind roared beyond the hull. A lash of dazzling purple light blazed through the glass, cutting the incendiary cloud like elemental lightning. It was gone in an instant before it returned in a retina-burning sweep which slammed into the ship with a bone-jarring impact. Nathan's spine crawled with the sensation of unseen energies straining and crack­ling before a rush of scorching heat washed over him.

At last he was glad of the suit's cumbersome protection, though even with it he felt as though he had been suddenly cast into a great oven. The heat was a palpable thing, pushing down on him like a great hand and burning his throat as he tried to breathe. Nathan saw several of the Opti­con crew collapse into pathetic heaps, one with flames licking about him. After what seemed like hours but could only have been seconds of heart-stopping fear the burning suddenly stopped, leaving a horrible tang of smouldering rubber inside his helmet.

broadside fre.. the Repulsive class's weaponry seems to be explosive.

PAge 348

The firestorm was lessening and a moment later the decks ceased to rattle as the ship finally burst clear of the enemies' salvo pattern. Kron's breath rasped in Nathan's earpiece as they slid the lens back over the grand cruiser contact.

"salvo pattern" and note that the space suits have their own earpieces/comms.

Page 348
]

The Retribution was coming across the enemy's bow, and the metriculator's count showed the enemy as closing.
"LOCK ON."

Kron activated the second run on the lens frame. A stylised cog superimposed by the Imperial Eagle sprang into existence within the lens but the runners eemed to be jammed and Nathan had to help him drag the device over the target contact. The lens showed the ornate spearhead fore-shortening into a shark-finned ziggurat of bronze as the ypulled across the front of her. Where the icon rested the hull of the grand cruiser was illuminated as if by a ghostly raidance which played ove rshimmering walls of force.

Targeting setup for the cruisers array.


Page 348

The lights dimmed for a moment as capacitors charged and then the ship resounded with the clamour of the guns. Nathan felt the pressure of unseen forcees hit him like a slap as forty guns hurled their payloads across the void. A moment later he saw the spreading cloud of projectiles cleaving towards the enemy. No spreading storm of fire this time, the munitions detonated right beneath the enemy's prow. Invisible walls fell beneath the onslaught and a rain of destruction crashed across the bat­tlements of the ziggurat-fortress. Debris haloes puffed from it like smoke rings.

The guns have capacitors, along iwth the powerfeeds. It also apparently took a minute or so for the broadside to cross the distance between the two ships. We dont know the exact distance, but if the aforementioned was 51,0000 km, we could be looking at speeds on the order of tens of thousands of km/s (its unlikely that the cruisers were closing at 10,000 km/s, for example), but without knowing what the units were to begin with this is sadly conjecture (althouch conjecture we know that would fit with evidence established in BFG)

Interestingly enough, the velocities here could be as high as 40-50 thousand km/s.

Page 348

Ravening white spears of pure power stabbed at the foe, tearing red-glowing gouges across its hull, globs of molten metal spun away and flames leapt form the wounds. The grand cruiser lurched visibly under the impacts, and began to twist away from the salvo.Even as it did so, two heat trails appeared from behind the grand cruiser, coming up fast to slash at its rear with a spiralling net of laser bolts. Nathan felt a flush of relief. The other two ships must be allies, and now their mutual enemy was caught between two fires. Below, the gunners were rushing to reload Balthasar for another shot, while a small team straggled to pin a whip­ping power line which sparked furiously. He looked back at the lens in time to see a swarm of bright flares pulling away from the enemy cruiser's prow. Ominously the tiny heat trails curved to alter course towards them and it soon became apparent that although these new weapons were not as fast as the projectiles fired before, they were considerably bigger. Sirens blare

Lances firing. Seems to be multiple lance arrays.. or it may just be multiple beams firing from a single array (although they're meant to be like DS beams and combine.)

Page 349

The enemy must have launched boarding torpedoes, simple attack craft packed with the troops,
bombs, incendiaries, corrosives, nerve agents and other hellish weapons necessary to wreak havoc if they got aboard. It was bad enough to be caught up in the titanic duel between warships but now the enemy was coming to strike at them face to face, all the time with the prospect of being crushed like an insect by the pulverising contest going on outside. Isiah rapidly passed out weapons from an arms-locker: blades, shock mauls, stubby autopistols and chunky shotguns. Nathan found himself equipped with a worn-looking pump gun and a clip of shells. He risked a glance at the windows as he was fumbling to slot the shot-filled cylin­ders into the breech of the gun. They now showed finger-long missiles with beaked prows powering, as it seemed, straight for him on harsh coronas of light. The sirens blared a repeating four-tone alarm.

Boarding torpedoes, and preparations for defending th ship.

Page 349

Outside lasers sketched livid traceries across the void as the short-ranged turrets laid down their barrage, shells and missiles exploded in gouts of orange incandescence as the Retribution's barbettes joined in. he first rank of the beaked projectiles were consumed or broken open and tiny, struggling figures spilled into the void as they spiralled away. But still more torpedoes surged through the barrage and angled in, cutting their flaring drives on a final approach.

point defence turrets.

Page 349

At the last instant before impact the torpe­does appeared to swell enormously, becoming as big as shuttles before they disappeared from view. A ringing impact threw Nathan to the quiv­ering deck and an endless cacophony of screaming, tearing metal followed. It was so loud it made him quail at the bone-crashing violence of it, of the sheer force that was ripping through the metres of armour plate to breach the hull.

Finally the tearing slowed and stopped until only the screams of injured gunners and the hiss of escaping air penetrated Nathan's helmet. The Opticon deck had twisted and now part of it sagged away towards the lower deck. Nathan crawled to the edge and saw there was terrible carnage below. A great crocodile-snout of steel and brass projected through the hull plates near Balthasar's breech. Deckplates were twisted back; stan­chions and pipes had been bent into an insane ironwork jungle with flowers of steam and spraying fluids. The surviving gunners were taking up defensive positions, aiming their assortment of shotguns and pistols at the invader.

As they did so, cannons coughed into life around the crocodile's snout. Gunflashes strobed as the autoweapons hammered explosive rounds across the interior of the gunroom. Men were blasted asunder where the rounds struck and hot shrapnel whickered around the metal walls injur­ing others.

- Autoweaposn firing "explosive rounds" = nose mounted armament.
, metres of armour plate on the hull...

Page 351

Nathan turned to shout to Kron an instant before an armoured giant burst through the conflagration with a brazen roar. Before Nathan could react the heavy pistol in its fist barked twice and Kron was thrown back with a flash and shower of blood.

Chaos space Marine, probably

Page 352 -

A flash of light leapt from hand to blade, and with it the chainsword exploded and was hurled away from the giant's fist. The hulking warrior staggered and started to raise his pistol. Kron stepped forward into Nathan's circle of vision and raised a hand.

Thump. A ravening bolt of brilliance crackled from Kron's hand onto the warrior's chest plate and rent it asunder in a thunderclap.

The mighty figure was thrown off its feet, its pistol sending explosive rounds flashing off wildly form its owners convulsing death-spasm.

Kron does a nasty lightning bolt trick on the CSM

Page 353

The chainsword, molten and twisted rang down on the deck-plates. Nathan clasped his left arm to his right shoulder and instantly felt warmth flood through his blood slick wounds.

- another Luminen (probable one at least, or maybe something like it)_ used its lightning to explode a chainsword, leaving it "molten and twisted."

Assuming the chainsword weighs several kg (probably weighs alot more), its going to be well over everal MJ if we assume iron.



Page 353

"L-Luminen!' Nathan gasped.

"No," Kron whispered.

Nathan's body was trembling uncontrollably as shock set in. His vision had almost dimmed completely, apart from a harsh, red light floating nearby.

"Not that at all."

Kron claims he isn't a Luminen.

[Connor MacLeod]

A long delayed update, I've been busy working, caught up in some other debates (obviously) and I've been spending what other free time I have writing up the next chunk of 40K stuff to cover (still am.) I'm working on 5th edition, teh various Fantasy flight games stuff, and Imperial armour up to current. There is so much of it that I think I imght slow down in updates even though they aren't as frequent as they are, but I think I'll get caught up in the near future. Then, at some point (probably after I finish LtGB) I'll start delving into that. Possibly both Dark HEresy and the Imperial armours, but I've been thinking about covering some more novels.

anyhow, next update ahoy

Page 356

The cleaning timetable had been designed to ensure that the most important parts of the tower got sanitised first. It would not do for the Historicus to arrive at the great hall in the morning only to find it covered in the layers of dust and industrial grime that quickly accumulated dur­ing the day and night in the sleepless tower. To permit such a thing would be tantamount to the most unimaginable heresy. In fact, in an effort to avoid insulting the greater agents of the Emperor, a junior ordinate had struck upon the idea of making the menials' working day slightly longer than a calendar day. This had the advantage of making the menials think that they were always behind schedule, forcing them to work in relay teams so that one was always cleaning the corridors outside the Hall of Historical Correction before another had reached the ciphers' bloc. The relay teams shared a single salary between them, and none would dare complain because of the tremendous honour accorded to them; menials were recruited from the population outside the tower and were the only non-hereditary members of the Administratum to be granted the title of adept. The ordinate responsible for this stroke of genius was destined for the ranks of the prefectus.

Bureacracy crap.

Page 357

Of course, Lexio didn't know that he knew the route in such intricate, perfect detail. He had simply repeated the journey so often that he no longer had to think about it. It had seeped into his muscle-memory, bypassing his cognitive faculties altogether. Indeed, on a traumatic occasion a number of years before, Lexio's walk to work had been dra­matically interrupted by the exhausted collapse of a menial in the passage way in front of him. The man had fallen off a ladder and bro­ken his neck as he thudded into the stone floor before Lexio's feet. Suddenly jolted out of his routine and unsure about which way to turn next, it had taken the cipher nearly half an hour to retrace his steps back to his hab-unit in order to start the journey again. He lived in mortal dread of this happening again.

It was one of the ironies of his vocation, reflected Lexio as he lapsed into reverie once more, letting his feet take him up the first flight of steps towards the cleaner air of the ordinates' sector of the western wing itself, that he was fated to remember everything and yet have no conscious access to his memories. It was a unique skill, and one that was highly prized by the Administratum. The ciphers of the Tower of Idols were care­fully selected from specific bloodlines, which were interbred under rigorously controlled conditions, and the special verbatimem talent was meticulously cultivated in dedicated academies. Tests were conducted each year. The traditional families would prepare their children for the tests for years before; fathers and grandfathers passed on the secret arts of self-hypnosis which enabled the child to memorise dictation without showing any knowledge of the message that they were carrying. Some families had been in service since the time of the Emperor himself, and they were exceedingly proud of their honourable lineage as Imperial adepts.

- the Administratum engages in selective breeding/eugenics to produce ideal message bearers - people who can instinctively remember routes and retrace paths via repetition, and who can record and recite/remember any sort of message or information they may be given but have "no conscious access to the memories." The messages are apparently given unde some form of hypnotic suggestion and code patterns (presumably taught to and memorized by the message carrier) and is retrieved by a certain cue identified by the sender at the time of recital (IE visual or auditory cue, like the face of a specific person.)

Page 361

The sentries stood in silence, half hidden in the deep shadows of the ornate, arched doorway. There were no windows in the corridor that led into the Great Hall ofVindicare, and no lights shone out of the cavernous space beyond. The entire temple was cloaked in darkness, as though shimmering on the edge of existence. The endless, labyrinthine corridors twisted and snaked in tortuously indirect patterns, turning back on them­selves and suddenly stopping in abrupt dead-ends. Some of the flagstones were wired with explosives, and others did not really exist at all, hiding pits of excruciating pain beneath their silent charade. In places, there sim­ply was no floor, and the unwary risked falling into the unspeakable abyss below the ancient temple, where forgotten horrors lay waiting to feast on the careless and the stupid.
Even if an assailant were stupid enough to attempt unauthorised access into the Vindicare temple, it would be a rare individual indeed who could make it through the maze of tunnels, around the myriad traps, and live to confront the sentries who seemed to haze into translucence at the entrance to the Great Hall. And these were no ordi­nary sentries - they were amongst the most honoured and exalted of the Vindicare brethren, standing a tireless vigil before the most sacred site of their faith. They were enwrapped in the ritual synskin of their creed, which seemed to absorb the faint light and render them almost invisible, and were armed with an incredible array of exotic blades, many of which had never seen the light of the sun outside the temple's confines.

Vindicaire assasin temple.

Page 362

On this particular morning, a svelte and graceful figure flicked through the darkness of the Vindicare temple, sweeping through the web of passageways with practiced ease, stepping around the false flag­stones and vaulting the moments of yawning abyss without giving them a second thought. She seemed to know where they were before she reached them, springing up to swing from a well-placed handrail or to walk the thinnest of ledges set into the black stone walls. All the time, her simple black robes fluttered and billowed behind her; thanks to the unique way in which the fabric had been folded, the flowing material made no noise as it rushed in her wake.

Without hesitation, the mysterious figure vaulted into the air as she emerged into the darkness of the corridor that led to the Great Hall. Reaching up with her slim arms, she grasped hold of the tails of a hang­ing, black banner and hoisted herself up behind it, climbing it with arachnoid ease. She could feel the attention of the sentries focused along the long, narrow corridor below her, but she didn't stop moving.

Reaching the top of the banner, she pulled herself up onto the thin horizontal pole from which it was suspended, and stood motionless for a moment, hidden in the vaults of the ceiling. With a sudden spring, she threw herself forward into space, catching the detail of a delicate carving in one hand just as her momentum failed and she started to fall. Pivoting around her arm, her fall was transformed into a flowing arc that flung her across the ceiling.

Landing softly above the arch of the doorway that led into the hall, she could see the tops of the heads of the two sentries only four metres below her. Bending down to touch her hands to her toes, she gripped hold of the ledge at the apex of the arch and let herself fall forward, swooping through the doorway like a pendulum and up into the Great Hall on the other side, coming to rest on the equivalent ledge on that side, facing the wall.

Scanning the dark expanse of the hall, she could see nothing at all. The walls had been constructed out of vividium - a stone amalgam that actually soaked up light, rendering any space that it enclosed into complete blackness.

Having expected no less, the figure was unsurprised. She climbed silently up the wall, digging her fingernails into the tiny cracks between the great blocks of stone and pulling herself towards the invisible ceil­ing. After a few moments, she reached a thick ledge which supported a row of black gargoyles. Melting into the space behind one of them, she settled in to wait, unseen and utterly alone.

Assasin acrobatics.

PAge 365

Her small, circular room was lit only by the tiny javelins of light that shot through the cracks in the windowless walls of the spire. In fact, there were no windows at all in the Vindicare temple, giving the interior the atmosphere of perpetual night. Every year, some of the new initiates - all of them orphans of Imperial officials fostered in the Schola Progenium -would go insane because of the lack of daylight. They were the lucky ones, since they would be removed from the temple before the serious condi­tioning began and the ofhers started dying. A class of twenty pre-selected, would-be assassins might be reduced to two before the end of the third year of training. One of those would inevitably die in the final initiation ceremony nine years later, when the two would confront each other in their last trial - as much a test of their will to kill as of their technical abil­ity to do so. Given that there were only one or two classes started in each year, this meant that die temple produced only one or two fully devel­oped assassins each year - something that placed a huge responsibility onto the shoulders of each, and something which made them extraordi­narily valuable to those rich or powerful enough to employ their services. In the long, shrouded history of the Vindicare temple, these patrons had not always been agents of the Emperor. This was not something that they cared to advertise.

Vindicare temple (or the other temples in the OFficio Assasinorum) will engage in year by year training. By the third year, a class of twenty will be reduced to two, and nine years later one of those two would die. Thus each temple (having only one or two classes stated in each year), will only produce one or two fully developed assassins each year. That seems rather low as a nmber for assasins unless they have more than one training faiclitiy.


Page 368 -

The tiny threads of light from the walls flicked at her pale, scarred skin as she pulled back the curtain that surrounded the synth-shower that occupied nearly a quarter of the room. It was a complicated device, used in some form by each of the temples under the auspices of the Officio Assassinoram, although each used a unique chemical mix of its own.

Nyjia adjusted the valve-array that set the mixture for the spray, check­ing each dial carefully to ensure that there were no errors. It was a matter of life and death, since an incorrect setting could lead to asphyxiation as the synskin was applied or simply to death afterwards if the armoured properties of the membrane were inadequate.

Selecting three exotic blades from the rack beside the shower, Nyjia pulled a series of levers and then flicked a switch as she stepped up onto the pedestal at the focus of the various nozzles and jets, tugging the cur­tain closed behind her. Closing her eyes, she could feel the delicate spray accumulating in layers over her body, clinging to her limbs like coats of rubberised paint. The pattern of the rain was specifically programmed for her body, focusing around the major muscle groups to augment their strength, and around her vital organs to provide maximum protection. Thin layers sealed the bladed weapons into place on her thighs and calf.

The Vindicare synskin also contained reservoirs of oxygen and metabolic suppressor chemicals, in case the assassin had to stay in hiding for long periods of time.

Sliding the shower curtain back with a snap, Nyjia stood glistening in the speckled light of her dark room, her body shimmering in the slick, membranous armour that hugged her figure like a second skin. She paused for a moment as the synskin dried, letting the fingers of light dance over her perfect form, before vaulting down from the pedestal and snatching her long-barrelled rifle from its fittings on the wall. She spun it once in her hands, checking its balance, and then flipped it over her shoulder into the harness moulded into her back. Without a moment's hesitation, she stalked out of the chamber and slipped invisibly out of the temple precincts.

Assassin synskin, in addition to boosting physical body performance, rpoviding protection against gas/chemcial and adverse atmosperes as well as weapons fire, can also allow an assassin to adhere to sheer surfaces (like in this case, the ceiling.) Much like spider-man.

Apparently synskin mixes can vary according to temple as well.

Page 368

Three of them ran off with a ladder, and one shuffled over to the official, mut­tering something that Nyjia could not make out - she couldn't even read his lips because his face was turned towards the ground.

Assassins can read lips.

Page 369

She gave a level three memory key, so that the cipher would not have access to the content of the message, and then dic­tated the translation.
Lexio blinked a couple of times, always slightly disorientated by the process of initialising his verbatimem. His consciousness literally switched off for the duration of the dictation, and the message went straight into the lower, subconscious reaches of his mind. When he came back to normal consciousness, it took him a while to realise how much time had passed. In this case, just a few seconds, it seemed.

security precaution on Adminstiratum messengers.

PAge 371

Nyjia sprang from the head of one gargoyle, just catching hold of another with one hand, letting the momentum swing her into a vertical arc. She flipped soundlessly through the air, landing softly and precisely on one foot, balanced perfectly on the tiny rock protrusion of an engraving in the wall. After a quick glance around and down, she dove headlong from the wall, plummeting ten metres before catching hold of a banner-pole and spinning herself across to the other side of the huge dome. She landed neatly at the base of a near-vertical flagpole, and wrapped herself around it, tugging her long rifle free of its harness on her back as she did so.

This was the perfect angle, she thought, as she brought the reticule into focus on the head of the fat official, sitting in the gaudy, golden throne far below her. He was surrounded by petty administrators, and only a near-vertical shot like this would make a clean kill.

Holding her breath, Nyjia brought her metabolism almost to a stand­still, letting the chemicals in her synskin bleed into her system to keep her alive while all of her muscles locked into position, giving her perfect sta­bility. The fat man in her sights rocked and laughed, stuffing his face with food and spitting it at his assistants as he bellowed and cackled orders at them.
Nyjia thought about the trigger and visualised the man's head explod­ing in the reticule. And then it happened.

- ASsasins can nearly-stop their metabolism and automatically lock their muscles in a position, giving them "perfect stability" when performing sniper duties.

PAge 372 -

Pandemonium was loosed in the great hall, as the Historicus's head exploded into a rain of bony shards and splattered mush.

Aforementioned sniper's round.

Page 377

The houses that would one day control the black economy of Equus III grew out of loose-knit gangs of street thugs, entre­preneurs who had failed to prosper in legitimate trade, crewmen who had grown tired of life aboard the Merchant Guild's ships, and discharged members of the Imperial Guard regiments which had accompanied the first settlers.

The discharged members of the imperial guard is interesting. Is it random, or are there planets like this that aer basically dumping grounds for discharged/retired Guard? Usually the idea is they get sent off on crusades to colonize.

Page 378

He had found Kravi standing at the battlements atop the hexagonal wall that surrounded the compound. In all the years since its construction, no one had ever tried to breach the wall, but its rock-and-plasteel bulk, metres thick, looked capa­ble of withstanding any assault short of orbital bombardment.

durability of a compound.

Page 379

There was no recoil when he triggered the alien weapon. For a moment, Kravi feared that the firing mechanism had malfunctioned. If this was so, and if all of the weapons the Graf had delivered to the Graumann crew were defective, then he and his men would die here, in a storage depot under the protection of Haus Reisiger. And then his target - a heavily-built Reisiger enforcer - dropped suddenly to his knees, ,his features pupled, the top third of his skull sheared off.

Later identified as shuriken weapon (Shuriken catapults.)

Page 380

Kravi and the three men who flanked him cut them down with short, silent bursts from the elegantly-crafted rifles they each held. Their smooth
curving lines and long tapering barrels made them look more like pieces of sculpture than weapons; their pistol grips, set behind curved maga­zines that jutted forward like the teeth of some huge sea-beast, had been designed for slimmer hands, possessed of longer, more delicate fingers. This, combined with their weight - much less than an autogun or bolter - gave Kravi the impression that he might be holding a child's toy, rather than a firearm, but the bloody chunks that now lay scattered across the depot floor bore mute witness to their deadly capabilities.

...

Kravi fired and the thug fell back, his chest a ruin.

More of the shuriken rifle's effects. They also are much lighter but more destructive than Imperial projectile weapons.

Page 380

"The wall - there!" Kravi pointed to the metal wall to one side of the door. His men stared at him for a moment, puzzled. "Shoot the damn wall!" he repeated.According to Graumann, Brek claimed these fragile looking things could punch through light armour plate.

Kravi's men each fired a sustained burst at the wall. By the time they released their triggers, the metal hung in shreds and the man behind it lay in pieces.

Shuriken weapons yet again. Rather effective.

Page 381

According to that report, there was barely enough left of Reisiger, his closest advisors and their bodyguards to make one of the stews the old Graf loved so much.
..

By the time the Grafs bodyguards realised anything was amiss, the air was thick with high-velocity mono-molecular disks. At a stroke, Graumann's young lieu­tenant had torn the heart from Haus Reisiger.

More Shuriken weapons effects, achieved in a short period fo time but with an unknown number of weapons.

Page 382

"Our ships came upon a drifting hulk. Its exact location is of no concern. Within its hold were certain artefacts. When the news reached us of Graf Gaudi's accession, it occurred to us that others might seek to take advan­tage of the situation - to move against the family before the new leader had settled into his position - and so we offered our services. From what I have heard, things are going well for Haus Gaudi."

..

The younger man had just repeated, almost verbatim, the reasoning Brek had used to quell Vik­tor's misgivings at the sight of the curved, shimmering surface of the shuriken catapult nestling within the merchant's case.

Supposed story of the origin of the Eldar weaposn from an off world weapons supplier.

Page 382-383

Kravi had been at prayer when he received the summons. Kneeling in the dark, incense-heavy atmosphere of the Ecclesiarchy sub-chapel, he had been giving thanks for his recent elevation to Protektor of the first district he and his crew had wrested from Reisiger control. That it was the Emperor's will that he should have achieved this was beyond doubt. Was it not written in the Holy Books of Terra that the Emperor of Man would help those who helped themselves?
Any doubts he did have centred around the means by which he had achieved so much in so short a time. After Graf Reisiger's death, merely the sight of the shuriken catapults was enough to un-man the Reisiger crews Kravi and his men had faced.
..

Be not tempted by the works of the Alien, for they are abominations. Equus III was a loyal world and Praxis its most devout city. Like all of its inhab­itants, Kravi knew large sections of the Books of the Emperor by heart. Regular chapel attendance was taken for granted by the members of every Haus on the planet. It was not unusual for a Gaudi, Reisiger or Malenko foot-soldier to kneel in prayer beside a member of a rival family, or a judge from the Arbites. Whatever happened on the streets outside, the sacred ground on which Ecclesiarchy buildings stood was neutral terri­tory.

There was no denying that the weapon he had used to carve Graf Reisiger into bloody slivers had been created by alien minds to be used by alien hands, perhaps against the loyal human servants of the Imperium. As he knelt in the chapel, Kravi had taken a breath before offering thanks for their delivery into the hands of Haus Gaudi. Then he waited, head bowed and heart hammering, for judgement, for some sign that he was damned.

Amusing that despite being a total thug, he's a devout man of the Emperor.

Page 383

For all their gleaming strangeness, these 'works of the Alien' were no different to a laspistol or a bolter.

Page 384

It was no prettier than before. He looked like someone who had just risen from his bed after a week-long fever. As he struggled to recollect the events of the previous night, he peered more closely at his reflection. He noticed what looked like an elongated teardrop, rust-brown in colour, at the corner of one eye. He prodded at it with a finger and it flaked away at his touch. Blood?

There was blood caked around his nostrils too, he noticed. Alarmed, he turned his head to one side. There, running in a thin line from his ear to the corner of his jaw, was more. He turned his head in the opposite
direction. His ear-lobe was caked in what looked like an enormous brown scab.

result of what probably is daemonic possession or something similar.

Page 386

Then what? There had been chanting, first in High Gothic, then in a language Kravi couldn't properly recall. Not so much words as noises: clicks and squeals...

With the memory of the squealing came that of the pressure, building inside his head. With suddenly unsteady hands, he unstopped the bottle and lifted it to his lips.

Again more of the probable possession and its origin.

Page 389

Its armour-clad cargo launched themselves into space, flares of exhaust from their jump packs slowing their vertiginous descent. Bolt pistols coughing throatily, they fired as they fell, clearing most of the guards from the compound wall before their ceramite-booted feet touched earth.

Grey Knights using jump packs.

Page 389

The more quick-witted of those left guarding the vehicles parked in the compound managed to loose off volleys of shuriken fire at their attackers. Most of the shots went wide, but one, at least, found its target, cutting through a jump pack's fuel line. Suddenly engulfed in a ball of flame, the armoured figure plummeted to earth, ploughing through the roof of a limousine. A number of the foot-soldiers let out a small cheer of triumph, which was quickly extinguished as the still-blazing figure tore its way out of the vehicle, pumping round after round across the courtyard as the fuel that covered its power-assisted carapace burned harmlessly away.

Grey Knight survives the backpack's explosion and a nasty fall.


Page 390

They were huge, half as tall again as any normal man and almost twice as broad, clad as they were in dull grey armour, emblazoned with the Imperial seal. Shuriken fire spattered against their breastplates like summer rain as they moved across the com­pound with deadly, implacable purpose. Those who threw down their alien weapons fared no better than those who died fighting. The Grey Knights of the Ordo Malleus had their orders: none who had dared lay hands on the works of the alien were to live.

- Grey Knights - "half again as tall as any man, almost twice as broad.

Page 391

The annexe was a scorched rain. The stench of cooked flesh hung thickly in the air as Belael stared at the sigils etched into the surface of the black stone monolith: blasphemous names, among which one stood out - Tzeentch, the Lord of Change. The polyhedron had oper­ated as a channel for his unholy energies, but that channel was now closed. One of the crisped bodies that lay about the floor of the room would have been its human attendant. He must have warned his mas­ters soon after the attack began. To all intents and purposes, the monolith was nothing more than an inert lump of rock. Soon it would not even be that

Pretty much confirmation of what I figured earlier. The thing acted as a source for possessing others.



Page 395

The Marauders of Raptor and Devil squadrons were arrayed herringbone-fashion along the length of the maintenance bay as tech-adepts and servitors crawled across them, repairing battle damage and loading new ordnance. Flight Commander Jaeger stood and watched it all slsowith a faint sense of satisfaction. Everyone was performing well today - the pilots, their gunners and bombardiers, and the bay crews were all operating like a well-oiled machine. He cupped his hands to his mouth to shout across the din.

2 squadrons of Raptors.

Page 396

All this is my domain now, he thought, not for the first time. It had been eighteen months since Raf s death had left Jaeger in charge, a year and a half of responsibility to command and lead nearly a hundred pilots and flight crewmen, to mould them into a fighting team worthy of the Imperial Navy.

- flight leader on a cruiser responsibility for nearly "a hundred pilots and flight crewmen." If we knew crew compllments or the total number of planes per squadron or crew, we could work out more data.

Page 396

For a year the cruiser Divine Justice had continued her patrol, unable to replace the losses she had suffered at the hands of the orks. Only three months ago she had returned to dock and new crews were drafted in from the flight schools. Unlike the ratings, flight crews needed to be trained professionals; you couldn't just send a press gang onto some Imperial world and see what you dredged up. For a year the Divine Justice had been home to only half the aircraft her holds could carry and launch. Jaeger was glad that they had seen no serious action during the rest of the patrol - a few skirmishes with outclassed pirates, the odd smuggler, but nothing like the baptism of fire and death that had been the duel with the ork hulk.

- cruiser "Divine Justice" had been on patrol for a year, separated form resupply during that time.

Apparently 2 squadrons of bombers plus the accompanying interceptors is only half the overall complement.

also the main difference between flight crews and mere "ratings"

Page 396

But for all his worries, the opera­tion was proceeding with little difficulty. Having barely had time to refit and re-crew at Saltius, the Divine Justice and her three frigate escorts, the Glorious, the Apollo and the Excellent, had been despatched with orders to support the Imperial Guard invasion of the Mearopyis system.

Cruiser has its own escort of 3 frigates.

PAge 397

The noctal fighters were incapable of orbital flight, unlike the Thunderbolts and Marauders of the Divine Justice. The squadrons were hitting hard and fast, dropping from orbit, bombing and strafing their targets before powering back up to the ships waiting above, ,safe from harm. The enemy fighters were swift and agile, but they couldn't be everywhere at once and only a single Marauder had been lost, and no Thunderbolts had yet been taken down. Jaeger had heard that the squadrons from the other ships of the fleet were having similar successes.

Interesting use of the orbital capability of Imperial fighters.

Page 397

With a thunk, the lifter reached the top of its shaft, eighteen decks up from the flight bays.

eighteen decks between flight bays and the command center

Page 397

Tech-adepts scurried to and fro, augur and surveyor servitors announced target dispositions in monotonous drones, officers snapped orders over the comm-net and flunkies and menials of every description hurried here and there taking notes, making reports or simply repeating messages from one officer to the next.

Command deck. Augur AND surveyor scryers.. in this story they're separate sensor systems.

PAge 397

He nodded as a lieutenant passed on some piece of data and then looked at the main viewing screen. It dominated the centre of the bridge, five metres high, and twice as long.

The main picture showed a duel between three Imperial cruisers and two noctal superdestroyers. Cannon-fire and missiles streaked from the Emperor's vessels, flaring into bright green flashes as they impacted on the energy shields of the alien ship.

Bright white las-fire erupted from one of the superdestroyers, a flicker­ing coruscation of energy bolts that impacted on the void shields of one of the cruisers, their energy dissipating harmlessly.

"super destroyers"

Page 398

To the top right, a spread of torpedoes rocketed open, ejecting a storm of plasma and fusion warheads which rippled across its silver grey hull in a riot of orange and red./

Imperial ships see to be using plasma and fusion warheads concurrently. Unless "fusion" means some kind of melta weapon.


Page 398

Wings of Starhawk bombers manoeuvred between the las-fire of a superdestroyer's defence turrets, the armoured surface of the alien ship splintering into a shower of shrapnel as their bombs punched deep inside before exploding.

STarhawk bombers mentioned and used/

Page 398

Another jet of engines halted the turn and the main engines increased to full. Its broad­side opened fire again and this time the noctal shields failed, missiles and plasma blasts raking into its engine decks.

Plasma and missile weapons.

Page 399

He opened the comm channel to the rest of the Marauders. Both the Raptors and the Devils were in on this one, escorted by the interceptors of Arrow and Storm Squadrons.

2 interceptor and 2 bomber squads

Page 399

Down there, three-quarters of a million Imperial Guardsmen were forging their way across the plains, in a massive strike determined to seize the noctal's capital within a day. The Imperial strat­egy relied upon a single swift hammerblow that destroyed the noctal's command before their reserves could react and bring superior numbers to bear on the Emperor's soldiers. And so far it seemed to be working -resistance was scattered, the noctal seemed to have had no warning that the Imperium had arrived. The first the aliens had known of the attack, Imperial dropships had already touched down.

- 750,000 Guardsmen attacking an enemy alien racecs with a "single switf hammerblow" advance designed to sieze the capital within a day "before reserves could react and bring superior numbers to bear."

Page 400

++Raptor Leader, this is the Divine Justice. Small enemy interceptor patrol last reported one hundred and fifty kilometres to local west. Larger concentration, approximately fifteen craft seen over target area at 0844 ship chronology.++

orbital observaiton provided to fighters from starship.

Page 401

++Raptor Leader, this is Storm Leader. We have enemy incoming from the west. Permission to engage?++

"Go ahead, Losark." Jaeger replied, staring out of the cockpit window towards the west for some hint of the enemy aircraft, but nothing was to be seen yet.

..

The Storm squadron leader was the best dogfighter on the Divine Justice, but Dextra was his senior by two years and was always just a few kills ahead in his tally. Jaeger had wagered extra drinks rations to the whole of Raptor squadron that Losark would surpass his rival's total by the end of the campaign.

He watched as the Thunderbolts, eight of them, screamed overhead and banked to starboard. The squadron split into two wings of four craft each, one accelerating up towards the cloudbase, the other dipping towards the ground. Jaeger saw a sparkle in the distance - the Mearopyis star glinting off metal as the enemy fighters closed in

eight thunderbolt in Storm Squadron, at least. May have been the same ships 150 km to west.. they may be double digit kmsa way now.

Page 402 -

Thorugh the reinforced screen, Jaeger watched as missile trails ghosted away from Storm squadron, arrowing their way across the skies towards the Noctal plains. A moment later and a bright explosion lit up the sky, an expanding star of blue cre­ated by a missile's impact. As the blast dissipated, a haze of white smoke was left drifting on the gentle wind

Air to air missiles used on Noctal fighters. Took a moment to arrive.. even assuming a few km distance (conservative) the missiles would be hypervelocity. Unsurprising if they were designed to be used in space too.

Page 402

He could make out the noctal planes more clearly as they streaked towards him at the front of the double arrowhead of Marauders. They were racing in fast, keeping a tight formation. That was good; the closer die aliens stayed together, the more chance the firing from the turrets would hit something. Another ten seconds trickled past as Jaeger watched the bright specks turn into distinct shapes.

A bolt of green energy erupted towards the bombers as the lead craft fired its laser, the flash passing comfortably overhead.

..

An instant later Raptor One shook with the thunder of autocannons and heavy bolters firing and a stream of tracer rounds soared across the shrinking gap between the two squadrons. More las-bolts blasted past, one so close it left a streak of after-image seared across Jaeger's eyes for a few seconds.

dogfighting/

Page 402

"Come on, upa bit.. up a bit, you alien scum!" muttered Berhandt, his face pressed down into the targeting visor of the lascannon.

lascannon gunsight.

Page 403

The lascannon burst into life, a beam of whit eenergy lancing out to pass straight through the nearest foe. The enemy craft disintegrated, its triangular wings spiralliny groundward until they wer eout of sight, the main fuselage utterly vaporised.

IF the Noctal fighters are anything like Imperial fighters (tens or hundreds of tons) VAporizing could be many hundreds of gigajoules to several TJ (although this may not entirely be the gunfire - reactor may or may not contribute.)

Page 403

As the noctal planes screamed past, Jaeger got a good look at their shape. They were like blunt darts, their stubby delta wings stretching from in front of the cockpit to the rear of the plane. Four tail fins surrounded bright blue jets as Jaeger tracked its course through the side screen, looking over his shoulder as it zoomed away.

shape of noctal fighters.

PAge 403

Jaerger glanced over towards the muscled bombadier who was intent on his bomb targeter. The glowing green display underlit his face as he stared into the aiming reticule, making final adjustments to the optics with a series of switches and dials on his control panel. He never took hi seyes form the reticule. Instead his fingers danced over the controls as if powered by a will of their own-

bomb targeter.

Page 403

The flight commander turned his attention back outside the canopy as the Marauders' altitude dropped. They were to make a low-level attack first, dropping their massive payload of incendiary explosives on an
enemy bunker complex. After circling around they would make a second attack run with missiles and lascannons, picking off anything smoked out by the firebombs. It was straight out of the tactics manual, performed in drills and simulated battles a dozen times by the pilots and bombardiers.

bombs, missiles, and then lascannon.

Page 404

A subtle movement to Jaeger's right caught his attention. Something was stirring in the yellow haze to the south-west. It looked to Jaeger like a dust cloud, quite a large one, several dozen kilometres away. Checking the gauges above his head, Jaeger noted a strong headwind, which would probably blow the dust storm in their direction. Concerned, he opened up the long-range comm channel.
'...


Turning in his seat, Jaeger punched a few runs on the screen display and, after a swirl of static, a chart of the local geography was superimposed ove rthe fornt canopy window. He focused the map onto his current recorded location and glancing up againt o check the direction towards the storm, placed its position. It seemed to be issuing from a long canyon complex that ran for hundreds of kilometres perpendicular to the axis of the Imperial attack, some twelve kilometres behind the forward Guard positions

Mapping funcitions and a fancy HUD.

PAge 404-405

"Talk to the missile auspexes, find out if it can see anything in the dust cloud."

...
Contact established with machine spirit of "Flail" missile, designate 14-56

...
"Invoking surveyor sweep over target area.




"Unknown., target acquisition beyond recall capacity. "

...

"
Flight commander, thsi missile type has a half-kilobrain of memory, capable of storing information on seventy-five separate targets.

Rather peculiar instance where the missiles seem to have better detection capability than the plane, but oh well. It implies a fairly significant range for the missiles given the range before.

I would love to know what teh fuck a "kilobrain" is - does it mean they're servitor missiles? They have a brain that acts 500x faster than a normal one?

PAge 405

Jaeger glanced at the small display screen just to the left of the control stick. Ferix had re-mapped the wiring of Raptor One so that the artificial eyeso fhte missiles were directed towards that display.

routing targeting data from missile to computer display.

Page 405

If the counter-attack was allowed to continue, though, who could tell what damage it would do to the whole war effort? Speed was the basis of the assault, and if it was slowed down by an incursion into its supply lines, the whole invasion might falter. If it faltered, all would be lost as the noctal used the time to gather their armies from across the planet. Who could tell if they had more ships in the vicinity, each now warned and powering its way to raise the orbital siege of the alien-held world? And what of the humans below

Speed is important.

PAge 406

"We'll be at the canyon in twenty-five seconds," Berhandt reported.

Jaeger nodded and levelled the Marauder, pushing up the engines to maximum as Raptor One powered towards teh enemy a mere two hundred meters above the softly undulating dunes of MEaropyis.

flight ceiling of 200 metres. 25 sec flight time to canyon.

Page 407

"Fly sweet vengeance!" Berhandt spat, pressing down on the firing stud. A half-second later the missile streaked downwards and then levelled, dis­appearing into the dust on a trail of white fire. Jaeger felt his heart beat once, then again, then there was a bright patch in the storm and a moment later a muffled boom shook the canopy.

Missile launch

Page 407

Another mis­sile flared off towards the enemy, its vapour trail joined by eight more as the other Marauders opened fire. They jinked and wove as strong eddies in the wind, caused by the funnelling effect of the deep canyon, forced them to adjust their flight path towards their prey.

A couple of seconds later nine explosions blossomed in rapid succes­sion in a cluster across the canyon floor, but Jaeger still couldn't make out what they were firing at.

eight-nine missiles.. eight or nine marauders perhaps?


Page 407

Looking away at the target screen for a moment, he saw a grouping of several dozen stationary vehicles ahead.

...

The bombadier nodded and adjsuted a couple of dials on his visor.

Visors.


Page 407

Its [Marauder] uncontrolled descent took it into the canyon wall a second later, its fuel tanks and plasma chamber exploding in a shower of flame sand debris.

MArauder plasma chamber.

Page 408

A splintering crack appeared in the canopy between him and the bombardier as a las-bolt ricocheted off. Jaeger heard other impacts rattling along the length of the fuselage as green flashes of laser energy and yellow tracers converged on him, the lead plane

Marauder takes multiple laser hits.. icnluding on the cockpit window.

Page 408

He knew Ferix was now working at full stretch, monitoring any malfunctions, coaking Raptor One's own systems into repairing themselves, welding cutting and binding where that wasn't possible.

MArauder has self repair capabilities.


Page 408

One of the engines was leaking plasma..[

Plasma engines.

PAge 408

He adjusted one of the secondary view screens on his panel to dispaly the rear camera shot.

camera views can be routed to display screens.

Page 409

More ground fire sprung up to meet them, sporadic at first but building in intensity until once more Raptor One was banging and clattering with impacts, and the air became irides­cent with multiple las-blasts impacting into her thick armour.

- MArauder bomber taking many repeated hits from ground-based anti-air laser weaponry (alien)

Page 409

A movement to Jaeger's right attracted the flight commander's attention and he look across, flicking his gaze between this distraction and the approaching canyon wall. It was a bright spark of blue, growing bigger very quickly. With a start, Jaeger realised it was an incoming missile.

missile from almost BVR, it would seem.

Page 409

"Into the saviour pod!" shouted Jaeger, punching free of his harness, and releasing the dazed Berhandt as the Marauder's erratic lurch tum­bled him across the bombardier's chair. He could feel Raptor One plummeting down nose first and had to almost crawl his way up the fuselage. Ferix was there, ushering the others into the armoured com­partment, and he saw Marte being bundled in by Arick, the old veteran's flight suit ripped to shreds, blood pumping from half a dozen shrapnel wounds in his chest.

Bomber has an escape pod.

[Connor MacLeod]

Page 415

Samiel glanced round to see Graek heaving the autocannon rounds into their chambers, gang tattoos rippling across his back. Above him, the skinny form of Damrid crammed itself into the turret gunner's chair.

..

"Crew, I want targets, now! Light armour and infantry priority!"

EXecutioner autocannosn can handle light armour and infantry both. Autocannon rounds are light enough to be easily handled, at least one at a time.

Page 416

Every breath a Chem-Dog took was drawn through a respirator or jerry-built gasmask, and most of them were used to breathing stuff that would kill most people.

Chem dogs seem inured to nasty climates, even without a respirator.

Page 416

Graek yanked the glowing-hot shells out of the breech and slammed another two home, and Kallin continued to fill the air with bursts of heavy bolter fire.

shell casings hot enough to handle?

Page 416

...and even as he said it a monstrously crude jet intake sucked the smoke away and he was looking at the under­side of the ugliest, squattest aircraft he had ever seen.

Intake fan in tank to suck awa smoke


Page 416

It flew so low it must have clipped the vox aerial, sounding like a nuclear wind and fol­lowed by a score of rickety buggies, half-tracks and bikes crewed by insane greenskins, teeth bared and guns roaring. They barrelled down the side of the valley at astonishing speed and one of them slammed into the Defixio's side, so the tank slewed wildly and Samiel was thrown onto his back. Gunfire rattled along the Defixio's armour and Damrid swung the turret towards the horde.

tank gets rammed.. remains intact.

Page 417

He took a breath of Jaegersweld's damp, unhealthy air, and heard the metallic sigh as it was forced through the implants inside his ribcage. Samiel's implants were more sophisticated than most, because those willing and able to work as administrators were worth keeping alive for longer than the average Chem-Dog. But the Guardsmen of the Savlar regiment, of course, had lit­tle respect for such skills.

All Salvar seem to have beathing implants of some kind.

Page 417

The profile of the Exterminator-class battle tank was broken by all man­ner of salvaged and stolen bits Dniep had bolted on - armour plates, trophies, stowage. Kallin had tied a string of ork hands around his spon­son mount, the freshest still glinting with moistness, the oldest shrivelled and rotted.

Modified exterminator

Page 418

The unsophisticated respirator implants under his jaw confirmed he had grown up in the chem-mines of the Dead Moons, which was a feat in itself.

more respirator implants. Not all the Salvar use gas masks

Page 418

"It's a badge of office. Made of titanium. He's not just any aristo, he's from the Guild. When he's not playing soldier with a tank full of us plebs, the bastard sits in orbit and sells the filth we churn out of the Dead Moons. People like him worked everyone I know near to death. Most of us aren't even cons, we're second generation or more, but they don't care. Long as they keep the trade going, we're just machines to make them creds. Used up Graek like he used up half the men on the Dead Moons."

When Karra-Vrass approached with Damrid, Samiel couldn't help noticing the shining swagger-stick the officer still held in his hand. In the other was a salvaged visor-scope, just one of the pieces of 'non-standard' equipment that tended to turn up in any Chem-Dogs vehicle.

- Officer of the Salvar tank has a swagger stick made of titanium.

Page 419

"The nearest regimental HQ is the Cadian 24th, fifteen hundred kilo­metres west."

"Three days across ork-held land?"

1500 km range for the tank (not neccesarily even the upper limit!) traversable in 3 days of apparenly constat operation. well within the capabilities established in the IA books.

Pgae 420

Samiel was grateful for an unhealthy shudder from the Defixio's engines as they kicked protesting into life. "Dunno if they'll hold together," Dniep was saying. "Fuel's not a problem, you can run a Leman Russ on boot leather and bad language. But she took a big hit back there and the track drives are looking shaky."

Again demonstrating that while it may not be the fastest, Russes are among the most adaptable engines even when it comes to fuel.


Page 421

And then the plasma coils went critical. An expanding globe of white-hot energised plasma, like a new star, incinerated the crewmewn and burned a hole in the ork attack.

Plasma cannon tank had plasma coils. Crewmen were burned. Impiled upwards of multi GJ explosion.

Pag 421

Orks made no attempt to conceal their mine­fields, but they laid a hell of a lot and didn't care if they lost a couple of their own to them, meaning the fields were always big with no way through. They also had a habit of packing them with so much explosive they left craters the size of command bunkers - current Guard wisdom was that the orks laid mines more because they liked the noise than for any strategic advantage.

Ork minefield. If we could estimate the size of a command bunker we'd know the size of the crater.


Page 422

Between the Defixio and the Cadian HQ lay a plain bounded by con­tours - in the world outside, those contours were ragged, torn ranges of loose earth and landslides. No kind of country for a tank.

In other words, the terrain isnt exactly flat... so the 1500km range could be morethan a bit misleadingm which also means the top offroad speed of the Defixio could be higher.

Page 423

That they were so difficult to predict was the worst thing, because you couldn't just herd them into killing zones or cripple their economic base or any of the other things that worked with good old-fashioned humans. The only ming that worked was hatred. There was no sympaury, no honour. You had to exterminate them, all of diem, because they were seemingly designed to spring up again at the slightest chance. Samiel knew that war against the orks would never end - even if they were wiped off the surface of Jaeger­sweld, the Guard would just be packed off to the next planet mat became infested, and it would begin all over again. For Samiel, it had become a case of getting out alive and hoping that some distant commander would grant him a plot on a conquered planet as reward for a lifetime of fighting, so he could let someone else do all the hating. But if he really had used up all his luck already, as the others suspected, then he didn't fancy his odds.

Problems with fightng Orks. Basically Extermination is the only solution.

Page 425

It was some way into the minefield when it careened straight into an anti-vehicle mine so scrappily made it stuck out of the ground half the height of a man.

Orkm mines at least as tall as a man.

Page 426

Dniep scratched at the acned skin around his throat implants - he had escaped the worst ravages of the chem-mines because he had been too useful fixing the machines to risk at the workface, but he was still damned ugly

Guardsmen works as impromptu echnician when needed or techpriest not available, I imagine.

Page 429

"'The Jurn regiment is supposed to be south, past the gulf If we can get down there, and cross it-"

Jurn regiment.

Page 430

Every Salvar vehicle was equipped with hermetic seals around the hatches and doors

sealed against hostile enviroments or gas/chem attacks.

Page 431

The twin explosions burst in the midst of the orks, blasting two or three to flailing limbs.

twin autocannon shots obliterate severalOrks

Ironically this Exterminator's twin autocannon seem to be maunaully loaded. Not m uch of an "auto" cannon, ,but then again these guys are Salvar Chem-dogs, so maybe the loader was lost. :d

Page 431

The two blasts merged into noe as a hole was torn out of the advancing patrol. some were thrown forward to collide with their fellows in the front, and two fo them were thrown into the iar in bits.

another group oforks blasted to pieces.

Page 431

There was a sound like a thundercrack as a crude ork grenade went off, buckling the metal patching the hull at Samiel's side.

krak grenade or shaped charge?

PAge 432

There was a shriek of metal and suddenly the Defixio was open to the sky - the lead ork was standing over them, power claw holding the turret he had just ripped clean off the tank.

Ork power claws can rip open the top of a tank

Page 432

With a roar like the end of the world the autocannon shell lodged in its jaw detonated, blowing the beast's head clean off, tearing a huge chunk out of its monstrous body.

This was descrbied as a"massive ork" being bigger than the rest and armed with a power claw. that could mena the Ork's head mased as much as a human torso, only much tougher.

Page 433

Behind the colonel was the smoking shell of the Defixio. He wouldn't have recognised it as a tank at all had he not spent the last, greatest moments of its life inside it. Skeletons surrounded it, just as charred.

The massive jawbones and beetling craniums of orks were everywhere, with a couple of human skulls that had once belonged to his comrades.

"Like I said, one lucky swine. Fuel tanks went up and threw you clear."

Defixio fuel tanks apparently had enough to cremate much of the opposition.

The original ork group was mentioned to be "fifty strong." about seven or so were killed before they reached the Tank. We can reasonably conclude that at least a couple dozen orks (plus the tank crew, which could be at least 2-3 minus the guy who lived) were incinerated in the blast.

Lots of ways you can spin it, even as not being total or literal cremation, but its still a literal ton of energy, especially for fuel tanks that had covered some 1500 km.


Page 435

A dry heat slid over the barren wastes with the rising of the sun. As light pushed at the edges of the darkness, the shadows fell away to reveal the dead in their many hundreds. Dakat City was nothing but rabble and corpses. Broken steel and concrete lay spread out on the baking sand. Only carrion insects moved about the devastation, nibbling on flesh, darting across dead eyes.

Al'Kahan looked out across the sea of carnage. His eye did not blink. Heavy artillery must have pounded the city for hours. The bunkers were torn open. The network of hives beneath the city would be running with blood. It would pool in the lower places. The smell of it would remain there forever.

results of hours of bombardment of a city of unknown size. Underground Hives may imply a hive city.


PAge 437

Airborne jet bikes tore the sky apart as they ripped forward from within the enemy's column. Lasfire and bolter shells began to rain down upon the riders. Men were thrown from their horses, the beasts remaining riderless within the charge. Al'Kahan leapt the body of a dead horse, its skull raptured, a rider trapped beneath it.

horse head exploded either by lasfire or bolte rfire

Page 437

Tulk led a second wave. His men had stowed their lances in favour of lasguns. Every shot rang true, but few penetrated.

- Attilan Rough Riders are firing their lasguns from horseback. One might surmise they are using carbines.

Page 440

The explosive-tipped lances found their marks. Thick iron plates were torn from machines, hulls dripping with ries, gutted.

Rough Rider lances penetrate armour plate.


Page 443

Smaller spacecraft, not bearing the glorious eagle of the Imperium, had landed here too. Rogue traders? Mercenaries? Pirates? Al'Kahan cold not be certain.

Apparently non Imperial ships landing on Attila does nto warrant suspicion or outrage.

Page 444

He found he had somehow lost the knack of lighting a fire, and had had to use Imperial Guard-issue flame flares to keep himself warm.

Page 447

"I can pay for a new hand."

"He is proud. He will neither take your money nor let a machine replace his flesh."

Page 448

The wariror braced himself as a great explosion ripped through the stone. Shards of rock, like leaves from a tree, fell down around the assembled riders.

This was described as a "broad boulder" before him... he was mounted, using a lance. A definition of a boulder is at least .25-.3 meters in diameter here

which could arguably be shattered with less than a kilo of explosives, I suppose.

Page 449

The fortress, the size of a small star cruiser, loomed ahead of them. It was jagged and sinister,

no idea what a "smalls tar cruiser" would be.. hundreds of meters maybe?

Page 449

Al'KAhan, plasma rifle in hand, ,unleashed a volley of burning power that ripped through the iron stakes and lit up the entire valley in white light.

...

The riders rode on, the remnants of the deadly barricades now just ash.

Must be the "rapid fire but overheats" version fo a plasma weapon/

Page 449

The tips exploded, ripping great holes in the stone.

The stone walls were "roughly hewn", and Al'Kahan mentions having "twenty" explosive heads.

PAge 450

Al'Akahan turned and released a volleyy from his plasma rifle

Again volleys of fire rathe than single shot with prolonged recharge.

Page 451

In this instant, Al'Kahan jammed the butt of his plasma rifle against his shoulder and fired. The white blue light, mercury bright, cut up through horse and rider. Talthar sreamed as his leg was engulfed in searing agony. His monstrous steed crashed to the grgound on top of Al'Kahan.

...

his chainsword cutting a patn through teh smouldering flesh arbout him.

Plasma gun apparently enguls the leg and surrounding area of the horse,causing severe burns.

Page 452

He brought the gun up to meet hte chainsword, waiting for the biting pain of serrated teeth. The sword dug deep into the rifle's fuel cell. A flash of blue-white flame leapt up the sword and through the warlords body. HE screamed briefly and collapsed, a charred husk.

Plasma gun runs on a fuel cell.

Page 454

That's what we are to them. Not Imperial Guard, not fellow troopers, not noble soldiers from the Jopall Indentured Squadrons. No matter most of us are from good, up-hive stock, no matter our comrades are even now defend­ing the walls of Tartarus Hive against the Invasion.

Jopall regiments come from a hive world.

Page 454

Oh to not be part of this... I believe the Skull-takers have been fighting the feral greenskins for so long, they have begun to mirror what they fight. The least of them are painted and pierced, the worst have implanted tusks jut­ting from their jawlines. All have ork finger-bones, teeth and ears dangling from them as grisly trophies. They have no official chain of command. They respect no rank or authority other than their own. I have been told they elect their leaders. Think of that!

I cant see thse as the Kanak/Canak skull takers. They have qualities of all jungle fighters regardless tho.

Page 454

Dragonflies, with stained-glass wings as wide as a man's arm span, cross the glades, beating the air louder than the blade-fans of the air-cars in Tartarus's elite district.

Air cars on a hive world.

Page 455

We Jopall blunder like fools amongst them. I spent four weeks last sum­mer on a covert training course at the Hades Hive Guard Academy. I did well. I thought I was good.

4 week covert training

Page 457

I raise my lasrifle, and fire a stuttered burst.

Something big and green and tusked and monstrous slumps out of the foliage, its chest cavity
exploded, and drops into the mere.

Burst of lasgun fire explodes the chest of an Ork. Considering Orks mass several times more than humans, this means it could be (in theory) equivealnt to several grenades or sticks of TNT - call it a few MJ divided over however many shots (as few as 3-4, possibly as many as dozens, or hundreds) - all delivered in a fairly short timefreame however (Seconds at most)

Page 457

The wet air becomes cinder dry witii ozone from the laser discharge. Las-rounds pepper through the leaf cover and fill the air with sap-vapour.

Sustained lasgun discharges evaporate moisture in the air/ Las rounds penetrate folilage arguably without much loss of energy, and probably no deflection.

Page 457

Toaster fires again, his belch of flamer vaporising a tide of charging 'skins so that nothing but their fused skeletons slump in the steaming water, dribbling molten fat.

Heavy flamer incinerates flesh off body, save for skeleton and apparently fat.

Page 457

I pull my autopistol and blow its face apart.

autopistol exploding head in unknown number of shots?

Page 459

Slipknot is blown apartt by a bolt round.

Ork bolt round blows person apart.

Page 459

Toaster comes in behind us and yells for us to drop. Buck does, and I pull my head down as the flamer wash gusts like a sun's heat over our heads, incinerating the rest of the chamber.

again flamer incinerating.

Page 459

The 'skin boss is one hundred kilos heavier than KEyser, and massively muscled, with molars like daggers and tusks like bayonets.

If keyser is 100 kilos or so.. the Ork would be.. 200 kilos. Not the heaviest boss, but not exactly tiny either.

Page 462

Rosarius, a thin, sallow man dressed in dark robes, stared at his back. His milk white eyes, blind since his days at the Adeptus Astra Telepathica, gazed unseeing into the void. He could hear the governor's breathing, sense his faint odour of tension and fear, feel the intense electrical activ­ity of his brain. He could almost tell what he looked like, so well did he know his aura, but he ignored these false clues to reality, and concen­trated instead on the images he could see with his inner eye. Far beyond the window, he could feel the desperation of the Guardsmen holding the walls, feel the determination of the attackers, their mad lust for battle as they threw themselves against the defenders. He sent out fingers of thought, searching for pathways to the future, like tendrils, snaking their way into possibility. He searched for clues to potential outcomes, the eas­iest way to victory, the conclusion of their plans. He shook his head in frustration - whichever way he looked, all he could see was darkness, and stars falling from the sky.

Seer like precog, it would seem.. or at least an attempt to imitate it that is far cruder than what the Eldar can do.

Page 462

The dropship fell out of the sky like a burning comet. Inside the hold, a hundred men struggled to stay upright, holding tightly onto the steel cords that held them fast against the wall. The ship rocked as anti-aircraft fire exploded like deadly orange flowers around it and servo motors strug­gled to keep the ship upright against the buffeting gale of explosions and shock waves.
Altitude ten thousand feet and counting. The voice was metallic and harsh.

dropship holds 100 men. taking AA fire from unknown guns at 10K feet (~2 miles) Likely hydra platforms of some sort.

Page 465

Creid pulled his goggles up onto his forehead to peer at Vero. Creid's right eye had gone, and a crude bio-implant glittered coldly in the socket. Creid noticed Vero's somewhat startled look, but did not seem to take offence. "Some crazy smuggler took my first eye during the battle for Sonitan VII - stray blaster shot." Creid volunteered. "The docs said I was lucky it wasn't my whole head tht got blown away."

"blaster" is also an early name for bolter rounds.

Page 467 - "I am as blind now in the ether as I am in your world."

ether - warp.

Page 468

As they moved into position, a man he didn't know, standing right next to Oban, was hit by enemy auto-cannon fire.
One moment he was firing into the distance, the next there was a roar and tatters of the man's flesh covered them. Vero wiped the mess from his face, tasting the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

man obliterated by cannon round.

Page 468

Across this nightmare landscape, Vero could see hundreds of bodies, scattered and broken, limbs cut from bodies by powerful laser fire or ripped apart by the relentless artillery. The ground shook every time another shell landed, and it seemed as if the corpses were dancing on the ground, their arms and legs jerking in time to the exploding shells.

Lasfire dismembering bodies.. we dont know what kidns of lasfire.

Page 468

He could smell stale sweat and blood, but as his opponent staggered back, Vero forced the steel point of his knife in towards the man's chest and pushed hard, shat­tering ribs and severing muscle.
As he plunged the ice-tempered blade deep into his opponent's chest, Vero felt something take him over.

- Guard (penal trooper) knife mentioned to have a steel point, and to be an "ice tempered blade"


Page 470

Vero shook his head. He hefted up Oban's comm-unit, but the cheaply mass-produced unit was broken, the casing cracked and scored by the explosion. He threw it down in disgust and sat down wearily on a slab of rabble.

Penal legion comm unit.

Page 472

Leaving the ornate double doors standing open, they clattered down the grand staircase, not trusting the lift. Lights flickered as the generator straggled to cope with the demands of the power shields protecting the governor's official residence.

Under the palace, the governor's personal liveried Leman Russ armoured personnel carrier was belching black smoke, causing Rosarius to wheeze. Torlin prayed that the inefficiencies of his governorship hadn't extended as far as his own personal transport, and that the mechanics had added the extra side armour as he had demanded. His bodyguard, thirty hand-picked soldiers of impeccable loyalties, snapped
to attention as he appeared.

Palace protected by shields, and a "Leman Russ" personnel carrir. with extra side armor.

PAge 472

While the governor and Rosarius climbed into the Russ, strapping themselves into the seats, the bodyguard piled into two Rhi­nos.

- Guard/PDF planetary units (personla bodyguardS) using Rhinos. 15 troopers per rhino.



Page 473

Bracing his boots against the wet earth, he unsheathed his knife, wedging the point of the blade into the crack between the top of the vehicle and the access hatch. He leaned on the blade, praying it wouldn't break, but the adamantine tip held strong. With a groan of metal, the hatch opened, belching a cloud of hot smoke into the night air. Blinking against the fumes, he peered into the shattered interior.

- the "adamantine tip" of the aforementioend "penal legion" combat knives enable a (hidden)Callidus temple assassin to force open the hatch of a Leman Russ tank (forced close presumably, or locked shut.)

Page 473-474

"It's quite simple, I assure you. A man's mind is made up of two parts. The first part includes memory, your personality, thoughts that are unique to you. Then there is the part which controls your day to day functions, your knowledge of weapons, infil­tration, poisons, everything that enables you to function as an assassin, as
well as your animal instincts, the fight or flight, your powerful instinct for sur­vival. All we are going to do is to temporarily erase the first part, allowing you to get past the normal psychic screening with which the ever-paranoid Gov­ernor Torlin surrounds himself. You will have no recollection of who you are, or what your mission is, so his sanctioned psyker will have no forewarning of you until it's too late. You are Averius, and so this mission has the code-name Vero."

Assasiin and personality overlays the Imperium can use for securtiy or infiltration purposes.

Page 474 -

He felt a wave of heat, as the leaking fuel flooded one of the sparking circuits, and the tank exploded in a ball of molten metal and plastic.

the russ Explodes. Melted by the fuel explosion (double digit GJ if the whole thingw as iron, considering Russ Masses)

Page 475

Averius could feel the polymorphine flowing through his system, and his body contorted as if it was trying to throw off its skin. He felt himself grow taller, broadening out, and from his fingertips he felt a pricking as finely honed steel needles slid out from under his fingernails, razor-sharp and slick with toxic fluids. At last he was complete: the tools of his trade, his raven's daw, hidden to prevent dis­covery of his mission until he had found his prey.

- "ravens claw - a series of finely honed steel needles that were razor sharp and slick with toxic fluids that emerge from teh ASsassin's fingernails."


Page 475

"You have been watched. do you think your lapdog telepath could protect you from justice? He knew your thoughts, and his knowledge shone like a beacon to the ADeptus Astra Telepathica. Did you think treachery like yours could be hidden away?"

Long range detection of treachery through personal psyker's thoughts and observation. A useful security mechanism.

Page 476

The assassin flexed his fingers, feeling the sharp needles fill with toxins from the bio-engineered pump inside his hand.
..
The nee­dles slid through the soft flesh of the governor's eyes, piercing nerves and tissue, passing the deadly poison into the man's brain. After a wile, the hand holding him up opened and Governor Torlin fell lifeless to the floor.

Absolved.

Raven's claw assasination device used.

Page 476

The assassin stroked his hand over the penal tattoo on his forearm. The let­ters morphed gently into arcane runes, and he knew that they would transmit a signal through the ether to the Callidus temple. Far off in space, the Impe­rial reinforcements, held back until his crucial mission was completed, would swing into action and White Scar Space Marines would start dropping onto the planet. His mission was over, and he could now return for debrief­ing.

Pressing his thumb against the governor's forehead, he activated a bio-implant buried deep within his hand. He felt a brief flare of heat, as if he was passing his hand over a lit candle. When he removed the thumb, a mark was burned into the cold skin of the man's head. The stylised mark of a bird.

A raven.

CAllidus assassin has a implant/tatto that sends a signal through the warp apparently via non astropathci means. How I dont know, but its clearly FTL.


Page 478

Olstar Prime. Recent Imperial colony in unclaimed space; a jungle planet rich in deep ores and petro-ethers

One reasons why jungle/death planets are occupied at all.

Page 478

"Shuriken catapults, they use magnetic impulses, fire spinning discs."

Shuriken catapults described. Save for the magnetic bit (They use grav tech) its accurate.

Page 479

A cocktail of combat drugs staved off all but the msot extreme of injuries. Many a fighter had lived to see another day thanks to the potency of the Imperial chemists' brews.

Catachans and other guardsmen apparently rely on combat drugs to improve combat capability.

Page 479

Lownes grabbed his infra-red scope and peered through it.

Guardsmen with infra-scope.

PAge 479

Lownes tugged on two grenades and timed them long. They splashed into the water beside the two eldar on point. One moved close to the ripples in the water and stared upwards, assessing where they had come from. A second too late. The frag grenades cracked loud over the swamp. Burning body armour, flesh seared to metal, splashed into the water about Lownes's squad.

Page 479

The aliens fell back in the face of the Jungle Fighters' numerical superi­ority, standing behind the tallest of their number, dressed differently in flowing robes and a strange elongated helmet. A pair of green eye sockets glowed. The robed figure raised its hand. A spray of low-powered lasfire from the remaining eldar channelled into one massive bolt that swept through the Jungle Fighters. Stern and four other men fell to the beam, identification tags and flesh fusing in one. The remainder of the squad threw themselves away from the gunfire and found precarious cover behind what remained of the mangrove trees.

Four or five Eldar total, one was killed via grenade.

A "combined" beam created by an Eldar psyker. Seems to cauterize/fuse/melt 5 men = the result of a fwe seconds of lasgun fire from a squad. depending on extent and severity of injuries, sustained lasgun output could be a few hundred kilowatts(third degree type flash burns) to several megawatts (Say, close to boiling ormelting flesh)

Page 480

Commissar Streck prayed, staring down from the fire base at the jun­gle below him. Pitch floated on the shallow waters, blazing in the lasfire glare, only to show the deaths of more Imperial Guardsmen. The screams of the dying echoed through the low ridges. Many of the Valis Fifth would die in battle for the Emperor today. The dead were in their own realm now and had their own judges. It was not for Streck to judge the dead, but to monitor the living and see that they showed courage in battle. His commission was brief and to the point: Spiritual guid­ance necessary. Instil courage and condemn fear. Victory unlikely.

..

"And for each who has turned their back on battle there will be death. For they are dead already as weapons for the Emperor and lost to his halls of glory."

Streck's view on his commisarial duties.

Page 482

The squad fired in unison, lasers slicing jungle vines and igniting small gas pockets. The fury of their renewed assault scythed through the eldar. They shot down all but the robed eldar, the dead aliens' body armour cracking open to reveal pale skins glistening like shelled oysters.

lasgun fire cracking open eldar armor.

Page 482

Streck had ordered the men to conserve their energy packs. Until such a time as someone got a clean aim at an eldar, no one was to fire. Silent as.death's scythe, a spinning disc as fast as light skimmed into the armoured shell and struck the man closest to Streck in the head. His face a bloodied mess, he died before he could scream.

shurikwn implied "as fast as light" - eg near-c velocity.

Page 483

The men still fired in all directions. A wave of enemy fire swept down into the bunker and cut more Guardsmen down. Limbs severed, screams ceased. Their wild firing was serving only to reveal their posi­tions. A flash revealed two eldar rushing forward from the dark cover of the mangroves.

effect of shuriken fire.


Page 483

The alien leapt high over the commissar's shots. The shells burst against the roof of the bunker, each getting closer to the lightning-fast eldar as it sailed through the air. Streck tumbled through the mud, list­less limbs flapping against the ground as the eldar darted after him, twin swords held high above its head like a matador.

Eldar evasive abilitis and acrobatics.

Page 486

A tall, slender shape, moving fast amongst the trees, took aim on the young Guardsman. Lownes reached out and grabbed the sprinting soldier by the lapels, swinging him into safety. A dozen shuriken ripped the white flag out of the Guardsman's hand, shredding it against the thick concrete wall.

dozen shuriken shots from a single burst?

Page 495

The assembled aircraft crews of the Imperial cruiser Divine Justice moved as one. Captain Kauri strolled into the vast hangar to the resounding clang of one hundred boots stamping in near-perfect unison on the steel-mesh decking. Walking two strides behind the stocky flag captain, Flight Com­mander Jaeger looked over his new comrades.

100 crew for (I believe) one squadron.

Page 496

Although most flight decks had similarities, each always had a unique odour, a different edge on the lighting, variations in layout and a hundred other small details that made it special. The flight deck of the Divine Justice had space to cany, prepare and launch ten of the mas­sive Marauder bombers, along with a complement of ten Thunderbolt fighters. All of the aircraft were currently in their docking bays, each nestling in its own arched alcove along the sides of the flight deck. Above the flight commander's head, a labyrinthine criss-cross of gantries and steps hung in the distant shadows, centred around a pair of enormous cranes capable of picking up and transferring the planes to the launching bays.

ten MArauders and ten thunderbolts each its own squadron. with aforementioend eight or so squadrons between 40 and 80 craft.

Page 497

The man's neck was criss-crossed with wires and scar tissue, and an interface plug dangled from the back of his right hand. In battle, the tech-adept would literally wire himself into the Marauder bomber, monitoring any damage and prompting the plane's repair mechanisms into action.

each bomber has its own tech adept, wired into the ship and providing maintenance.

Page 499

Only eight weeks into her patrol, the Divine Justice had run into serious trouble. Magnified on the main display screen of the Divine Justice's bridge was a scene of utter destruction, the like of which the ageing officer had not witnessed for many years.

eight week patrol, implied to be early in cruise.

Page 501

Once all five of his crew were present, Jaeger stepped onto an empty munitions crate that the servitors had not yet moved.

5 crew for Marauder, plus JAeger.

Page 502

As the other flight crews had finished their pre-flight rituals, they had drifted over to listen to the flight commander's speech. Now all twenty-nine of them stood in front of him, gripped by his words. Taking a deep breath, Jaeger continued.

29 crews.. 30 crew.. 6 per plane.. 5 planes?

Page 504

Jaeger grinned as he gaze dout of the cockpit's canopy and saw the rest of the Squadron flying alongside the ship's hull, each pushed forward by quadruple tails of plasma. Beyond them, he saw the firing ports of the Divine Justice's gun decks opening slowly, revealing battery upon battery of massive laser cannons, mass drivers, and plasma projectors. Immense firepower, enough to destroy a city.

[

quad engines on Bombers. Capital ship has laser cannon, plasma guns and mass drivers. enough firepower to "destroy a city". of unkown size.

PAge 504

++Thunderbolt fighter squadrons Arrow and Storm ready for ren­dezvous.++ The familiar voice of Flight Commander Dextra, given a metallic grate over the long-range communicator.
Jaeger flicked the brass transmit rune on the comm-link panel to his left. "Good to hear you, Jaze. Take up a diamond-ten on the aft quarters."

thunderbolt fighters. Again diamond 10. 10 per squadron,

PAge 504

Berhandt gave a thumbs-up signal as the target information was transmitted from the Divine Justice.

relaying targeting data to bombers from cruiser.

Page 506

Around it orbited a cluster of defence asteroids, floating bases crewed by the orks and bristling with rockets and gun batteries. Some were simply pieces of the hulk that had broken off but hadn't escaped the pull of the hulk's gravity. Others, Jaeger had been taught in Command Training, were deliberately captured by the orks, who used bizarre field technology to grasp onto asteroids and debris, pur­posefully creating a swirl of obstacles to protect themselves against attack. Whatever the cause of their orbit, and whether they were just floating chunks of stone and metal, or had been fitted out with rocket pods or gun turrets, throughout the navy they were known simply as Rocks.

Ork space hulk with Rok defenses. Including strange Ork forcefield tech.


Page 507

"Berhandt, can you get a fix on that Rock, five o'clock, about twelve by thirty-five?" Jaeger asked the bombardier, ,his unease rising.

...

"Plot a trajectory prediction, impose it over our course."

...

"Metriculator processing right now."

Mertriculator and other gear plots target course/bombing run type setup - approach on the target.


Page 507

Each of the ork missiles roaring from the rock was larger than a Marauder, designed to blow apart a massive starship but equally capable of wiping out the whole squadron with one unlucky blast.

rockets from an ork rocket battery. They can fire rockets in volleys of six, it would seem. EAch missile bigger than the marauder, designed as anti-ship weapon. Implies similar magnitude of other anti-ship weapons (in line with Shadow Point nad the munitiosn Ork threw there.)


Page 507

++We have surveyed your target and established a primary detonation point. Transmitting information now. It appears to be some kind of power source, which may destroy the target if you can hit it. I would make your departure as expeditious as possible though, we are unsure how large the resultant blast will be.++

..

The bombardier gave a nod as the targeting data for the Rock's reactor was received and with the turn of a dial and a flicked switch, he trans­mitted the details to the other Marauders.

- Again AdMech techpriests transmit target information data from the capital ship to the marauders. The Lead Marauder can in turn transmit the data to the other ships in the squadron.


Page 508

Berhandt swivelled in his seat to grasp the forked control stick that guided and fired the Marauder's
nose-mounted lascannons.

One shot from those [lascannon] could punch through a cubit or more of reinforced armour and smash apart rock with equal ease.

Marauders lascannon can "punch through a cubit or more of reinforced armour" although the manner in which it does so isn't specified.

Assuming iron, and knowing that a cubit is at least half a meter (although the phrasing it it could penetrate more, so its a lower limit)...

Using the Death ray site it could be single or double digit MJ to penetrate. If there is any melting or vaporization it could double or triple the figure. But it's a lower limit no matter how you spin it, not even factoring in mateiral composition (assuming a 5 cm diameter hole)

If it were something else (Say a single shot vaping a half meter diameter sphere) it could be hundreds of megajoules to several gigajoules for iron.

PAge 508

"Signature suggests it ain't laser shielded." the bombardier said, smiling grimly. "A couple of good hits should do the trick."
Jaeger broadcast to the rest of the squadron again. "Lascannons only on this one; save your missiles and bombs for the main target."

"laser shielding" - I wonder if this is a spinoff of ray shielding from ANH.


Page 508

++You're joking! Five Marauders are going to have as much effect on that beast as a swampfly biting a grox's backside!++ Drake chipped in.

Five marauders currently in the squadron. I have some issues in this short story with how the numbers seem to flucutate, although there probably are issues like losses and available replacements and such.

Page 508-509

They were huge metallic beasts, each weighing more than three battle tanks with a wide wingspan. Designed for limited range space combat as well as atmospheric missions, the Marauder manoeuvred with small vectoring engines along the fuselage and wings whilst in the ether, and massive control planes and a quad-ramjet when they dipped into a planet's atmosphere. Nicknamed 'Big Brutes' by the flight crews, each Marauder was a flying fortress. Its two dorsal twin autocannon were capable of unleashing a hail of fire that could punch through the armour of enemy planes and tear apart crew and engines, while the tail-gunner's triple heavy bolters could fire a dozen shells a second at enemy interceptors or strafe soft ground targets. On the nose were the lascannons for precision targeting, and six Flail missiles hung frorm the wings, each with a plasma warhead capable of creating a crater over fifty feet in diameter or cracking the armoured hull of a spaceship. For more wholesale devastation, ,the Marauder's hull also incorporated a spacious bomb bay which could deliver a payload of explosives or incendiaries.

A physical description of the Marauders. Each weighs more than "three battle tanks, which assuming a Leman Russ can mean 180-200 tonnes roughly (about on par with the bombers from the BFG novels). The Inferno article accompanying this story lists the mass as ~190 tonnes, which is close to that. Rate of fire of the triple heavy bolters is 12 rounds/sec, rather low compared to the bolters in First and Only with a thousand rounds a second.

Also the Flail missiles and their plasma warheads. The "50 foot crater" is interesting, since it implies a 15 m diamter crater, although it tells us nothing about the kind of material it could crater. If it were rock, it would be .6 tons. If it were Nickel iron.. 16 tons. Given what Earthshaker shells can do (Storm of Iron) I doubt its talking about hard granite. And even iron is conjecture. For that matter we dont really know the depth or the nature of the warhead - some warheads are shaped, some are omni directional.

It also doesn't tell us what kind of starship it could crack, how many hits, or anything of that nature. It doesnt really even tell us what kind of crater it makes.. melting and vaporizing could be considerably more energetic as well.

All in all a lower limit, but nothing more really.

Page 510

Guiding the Marauder over the steep lip of a crater, Jaeger saw the reactor housing for the first time: a crude conglomeration of twisting pipes and power relays. Berhandt gave a grunt as the ork's power generator came within range of his lascannon. Bolts of laser energy flashed towards the Rock, sending up plumes of smoke and dust. Berhandt's lascannon spat forth another vol­ley of fire, tearing through metal and rock.

LAscannon vs the ork reactor housing.

PAge 510

As the craft swept towards its target, leaving a trail of swriling debris in its wake, two bolts of light struck the reactor full on, ,turning the generator's armour into a molten slurry and punching through to the highly unstable plasma chamber within.

...
Through the side-screens, Jaeger could see small eruptions breaking out across the Rock as a chain reaction spread from the reactor to the turrets and rocket batteries. Forks of electrical energy began to arc into the air and the reactor went into critical overload. A cloud of gas exploded through the Rock's surface from an under­ground tank, sending shards of rock spinning dangerously close to the following Marauders, before the gas was eaten up by a shaft of blue flame. Raw plasma spewed from the molten remains of the generator, pushing the Rock off its trajectory, sending it spinning further away from the hulk.

The power generator/reactor for the entire defense asteroid. SEems to be a plasma reactor. Lascanno shots melt the generator's armor

Page 511

Pressing a series of runes above his head, Jaeger turned on a small viewscreen just above the front canopy, and a flickering, fractured image of the view behind the bomber crackled into existencec

rear cam view of the bomber.

Page 511

He imagined the gun decks bathed in red combat lighting, the gunners sweating and cursing as they heaved power cells into place or loaded shells the size of his bomber into the breaches. In the torpedo bays, hundreds of men would be bending their backs to the chains, hauling the massive proejctiles, ten times the size of a Marauder, along the loading rails.

cruiser's cannons loading shells the size of a bomber. conversely this means mass, less so it may simply mean volume (and mass could be greater). Using the 20,000 km/s minimum velocity from the BFG blue book, the KE would be 4e19 J for a single shell. A cruiser could have dozens, or even hundreds of such guns, depending on cruiser and source.

We also dont know if these are kinetic shells (mass drivers/railguns) or explosive projectiles (missiles, macro cannons, etc.) But if the latter, we can infer that if they were fusion they might have hundreds of MT per shell at least (assuming modern nuke efficiencie) If we apply the Space fleet 1000x modifier for plasma shells or something akin to antimatter or matter to energy conversion (several MT per kg at least) the shells will be equal to hundreds of gigatons, each.

The loading of power cells is also interetsing, as it hints some guns or weapons may not be tied into the main reactor at all. Not neccesarily unusual, as some ships may be designed or redesigned as needed (adding extra guns may not permit running sufficient feeds.

Some people contest my idea of 20,000 km/s velocity, despite the arguments I already gave. At a minimum, you'd have to expect macrocannon shells to travel many times faster than torpdoes (which are 200-300 km/s at least, as per various sources like Iron Hands) That argues close to 500-1000 km/s velocities. at 500 km/s you get 2.5e16 joules. 1000 km/s 1e17 joules. It's a bit silly to assume though that unguided macrocannon shells would take many minutes to cross hundreds of thousands of km and still stirke a target. (IRL, battleship shells rarely took longer than 30 seconds IIRC to strike a target. Thats thousands ot tens of thousands of km/s easily.)

Lastly, the torpedoes are 10x the size of a marauder.. meaning that they can get into the thousands of tons at least (if size = mass. Or greater if size equasl volume, quite possibly.) Using the "plasma warhead" approximation (between several MT/kg based on RL nukes and space hulk) up to say, 10-20 MT/kg (ignoring the possibility its so exotic it might exceed E=MC^2 for a moment) Torpedoes will of course we be well into the TT range (single digit TT to double digit). Even if we assume its no better efficiency than what modern nukes are supposed to be capable of, you would get at least 10-15 GT per torpedo.

Page 512

In the engine room, the men would be sweating heavily, the
heat of the thirty plasma reactors permeating even through their thermal shielding and the crew's protective suits. He didn't envy them their task: hard work in very cramped conditions for little recognition or reward.

Moreover, pilots were all volunteers, while many of the thousands of men who laboured in the depths of the fighting ships were criminals serving their penance to the Emperor, or simply unfortunate men taken unawares by the press gangs. And yet, he thought, everyone serves the Emperor, each in their own way. They will receive their due honours in time, whether in this life or not.

- the cruiser Divine Justice has thirrty plasma reactors. There are also "thousands" of men pressed (criminals or pressed men) into service aboard the ship as menial labor.

Page 512

He kept his gaze firmly on the slivers of light that marked the approaching orks. Now was the time to trust in the gunners.
The orks were jinking and swerving as they closed in on Raptor Squadron, surrounded by a cloud of tracer shells and pulses of laser light as the Marauders' guns opened fire.

The guns open fire on Ork fighters when they are just specks of light. Implying ranges of many kms, or even tens of km. with commensurate velocities for shells (clearly hypervelocity.)

Page 513

Then the fighters screamed within range, raking along the length of Drake's plane, sending splinters of metal flying. A few stray rounds ricocheted off the shield in front of Jaeger, causing him to flinch, but the armoured glass held out against the impacts.

Not sure what "shield" is meant to imply.. possibly a forcefield but.. not likely in this case.

Page 513

Berhandt was crouching over the lascannon controls, staring intently through the firing visor for a target. Jaeger spotted a fighter expertly tail­ing Drake's weaving Marauder. Jaeger brought his own craft down above the ork craft, glancing across to check that Berhandt was ready. The slic­ing beams of the bombardier's lascannon were joined by Arick's fire from above their heads.

Lascannon targeting controls.

Page 514

glancing down at the on-board scanner, ,he realised that the bomber's sensor arrays were damanged and hadn't picked up the new arrivals.

Onboard scanner and sensor array.


PAge 514

"Check missile and bomb links."

Computer links, presumably.

Page 515

The hulk was truly massive, dwarfing even the majestic size of the Divine Justice. As the squadron moved closer and closer to their target, and the hulk grew larger and larger in their sights, Jaeger could make out more details. He could see where three or perhaps four different starships had been compacted together, forming outcrops of twisted metal, jutting at a bizarre angle from where innumerable other craft and asteroids had been compressed together by the tides of warp space to form the central mass of the drifting hulk. It looked like a gigantic wedge of crumpled and torn metal and rock, the size of a city, weighing untold millions of tons. How the orks managed to populate one of these randomly wandering behe­moths, the Emperor alone knew. That they could was bad enough, but when the green-skinned savages managed to activate dormant engines or build their own immense drives, that turned an uncontrolled, erratic menace into a dire threat. The bulk of the ork vessel shimmered with the frozen particles that encrusted its hull. Billowing gases vented from unseen ports, creating a wreath of lazily-moving smog around the hulk's huge girth. It had a kind of savage beauty: a wracked sculpture of tortured metal that somehow seemed to be cleaving elegantly across the stars.

The space hulk.

Page 515

Checking the targeting data scrolling across a small, dull yellow viewscreen just above his head, Jaeger banked the Marauder in towards the hulk to assume the best attack trajectory.

More targeting data stuff.

Page 516

As he felt his mind slipping into the semi-subconscious state he required for total concentration, Jaeger glanced over to see Berhandt hunched over the targeting screen, his fingers subconsciously adjusting the row of dials below it to get the focus and magnitude correct.

Adjusting the targeting computer.


Page 516

Guiding the Marauder across the huulk's surface with one hand, Jaeger activated a series of runes and the canopy in front of him darkened slightly, as it interfaced with the Marauder's artificial eyes and ears. A false image of outlines and silhoutettes imposed itself over the view through the shield, highlighting particular obstacles, bringing the twisted contours and angles of the huulk's surface into stark contrast for ease of navigation. Patches of statck or blankness showed here and there where the Marauder's sensors were damaged or some interfering energy source was fluctuating within the hulk itself.

A neat feature to enhance navigation.



Page 516

With Berhandt concentrating on the bombs and missiles, it was Jaeger's task to take control of the lascannon. The flight commander reached over­head and pulled a lever. With a sudden venting of quickly-dissipating steam, the lascannon controls slid forward from the control panel beside Berhandt, four clamps locking the whole control bank into its new position alongside Jaeger.
Punching a pair of buttons on the weapon control panel with his right hand, still guiding the Marauder around the obstructions ahead with his left, the flight commander activated the lascannon and the canopy display in front of him was filled with a swirl of static.Quickly adjusting the weapon's (nose lascannons) sensor array, Jaeger re-tuned the lascannons flase eyes and the cloud of random specks coalesced into moving icons, highlighting possible target points. The blood-red rune of their primary taget stood out like a guiding beacon, a procession of angles, estimated armour, trajectories, and other information scrolling rapidly alongside it.

Pilot can control the lascannon the way the bombadier can. Lascannon has its own sensor array.

Page 517

A hum startted in Jaeger's ear as through the internal comm, as BErhandt wakened the spirits of the Marauder's self-guiding missiles and they set about seeking their target. AS the bomber neared its objective and the missiles' surveyors acquired the targeting point, the hum became even more high pitched.

Marauder missiles are self guided, and receive targeitng data from the sensors.

Page 517

Like a bolt of unholy wrath, a ball of plasma a hundred metres wide swept through the Marauder squadron, engulfing Arafa's aircraft, leaving nothing more than a cloud of gas and globules of molten plasteel

...

A pair of immense guns, each with a barrel wide enough to swallow a Marauder, was pointing directly at the attacking bombes. Jaeger shivered with dread as he saw the scanner's read-out showing the energy build-up for another blast.

Point defense weapon fires 100 m wide plasma balls. Bigger than a marauder and melts it. Assuming iron... several hundred GJ easily.

Page 517

A salvo of fire from the other bombers joined Berhandt's volley, a rip­pling wave of death that streaked towards its target on tails of flame, rapidly becoming distant sparks as the missiles sped towards the gun turret.

They hit home with a deadly blossom of explosions and the viewscreen showed twisted chunks of metal being thrown in all directions. Escaping gases briefly caught fire in actinic fountains of flaring light.
The red target rune was still active on the canopy screen, shining bright just in front of Jaeger's eyes. He realised with sickening dread that the tur­ret wasn't destroyed. It was still about to open fire once mor

Attack on the turret.

Page 518

Debris and burning vapours exploded across the hulk's surface as the lasers tracked towards their target, until the gun turret was at the cen­tre of a storm of beams converging from the four Marauders. A warning sigil floated before Jaeger, showing the turret was in position to fire again. In his mind's eye, Jaeger could imagine the huge barrels of the cannons glowing with the suppressed energy inside, waiting to spit forth destruc­tion and damnation.

With a blast that flung Jaeger back in his seat, the turret exploded in a vast, searing cloud of white plasma and billowing clouds of magnesium-bright vapour. Easing the controls back, Jaeger began to pull the Marauder out of its dive towards the hulk's surface.

[/quote]

Second attack on the massive turret.