Tombs of Min-Na: A Clone Wars crossover

[NecronLord]

or 'Gigajoules' of power per second (the later from a planitary defense laser described as being far more powerful than any of the fleet weapons (warriors of ultramar ref.).

There's a bit in the BFG manual that uses the term, but it's hyperbole.

[Black Admiral]

There's a bit in the BFG manual that uses the term, but it's hyperbole.

Ah. I've seen that. It's in the same passage that says 40K shipboard weapons can "reduce cities to vast plains of radioactive glass."

[Setesh]

I own a lot of the books, while they don't give hard numbers only GT level event was the destruction of a fuel depot space station to kill a tyranid main ship.

Never heard of that one. I've heard of a Guard unit improvising a GT-range FAE though.

the weapons are consistantly refered to as either 'multi-megaton' explosions,

No, they're never assigned yields, just described as explosions (rather more colourfully).

or 'Gigajoules' of power per second (the later from a planitary defense laser described as being far more powerful than any of the fleet weapons (warriors of ultramar ref.).

Again, no. That was a small-scale perimeter laser mesh established by Ad-Mech Explorators, definitely not an antiship weapon. And it was from Deus Ex Mechanicus, not WOU.

The laser in question was indeed from WOU, since I read it yesterday and no longer have a copy of DEM,

The only GT torpedo is a specilized one shot fighter/bomber missile that has to be launched from close range (so it wouldn't get shot down) and was designed for use against Ork space hulks which are pretty much armed and slightly armored asteroids (IIRC the pilot thought he was going to die the whole time since they had to strip the other weapons completely to carry it)

And where is this from?

One of the short story compilations

[

The Ork Space Hulk sort of proves the point, its an armed asteroid, has no shields, yet they find it extremly hard to kill

The Space Hulk has shields - at least, it's listed as having them in the BFG rules - and I've never heard of a Space Hulk that's an "armed asteroid" - all the ones I recall offhand are composed dozens, sometimes hundreds of starship wrecks[/quote]

Depends greatly on where and when it was described as being made. The books I have, have 3 space battle scenes against Orks, only one is described as haveing a sheild (50-50 since the third battle is joined several hours in) the sheild goes down very quickly but it taks hours of bombardment to kill the Hulk

[Black Admiral]

The laser in question was indeed from WOU, since I read it yesterday and no longer have a copy of DEM,

No it wasn't. I just checked both references to defence lasers in action in WOU, and neither mentions gigajoules. Page numbers can be given if necessary.

One of the short story compilations

Which one? I probably have it. And Caves of Ice has Guard putting together a GT-range FAE.

Depends greatly on where and when it was described as being made. The books I have, have 3 space battle scenes against Orks, only one is described as haveing a sheild (50-50 since the third battle is joined several hours in) the sheild goes down very quickly but it taks hours of bombardment to kill the Hulk

I recall only two space battles against Orks from my own collection; the ex-BAS Exile vs. an Ork fleet in Bloodquest, which involved no Space Hulks, and Shadow Point, which included IN ships essentially bull's-eyeing Ork roks (which ARE converted asteroids) in an effort to get a couple of Ork kroozers to put in an appearance.

[SylasGaunt]

Like many folks who deal with this sort of thing I feel the need to point out-

1.) I'm the author, I'm more concerned with putting together a good story than checking over what the versus debates say. As long as the story is internally consistant I'm fine with it.

2.) The Imperium destroys ships from Necron harvest fleets.. stuff that stooges around snatching up humans for assorted reasons and that serves a purpose more analgous to a modern combine than a warship at times.

3.) What Necronlord said :p

[SylasGaunt]

Part 4 has been sent to my pre-reader.

[SylasGaunt]

My pre-reader is a considerably faster worker than me

Part 4, for your enjoyment:



Jedi Padawan Kaleb Wil’karem took a moment from working on his lightsaber to gaze out the view screen at the rippling azure tunnel of hyperspace. He still wasn’t exactly sure what had caused his master to so suddenly call him back from the Gin-Ju combat zone and leave Farnagur with a bit over a third of the forces on-planet at the time. His master, usually so open with him, was not being almost maddeningly vague. The only reason he hadn’t pressed the issue more, was because whatever it was, he was getting some inkling of it to. A sense of a growing darkness and malice pressing in on his awareness the closer they got to their destination. Despite his best efforts, the padawan couldn’t quite suppress brief flicker of fear through him as something deep within told him they should turn the ship around and get as far as they possibly could from Min-Na.

Kolto watched as the last of the alien droids departed. The nightmare creature (he refused to think of something so obviously malicious as a droid) had demanded access to the control ship’s computer cores and Kolto had granted it. The computer core wasn’t there anymore now though. The insectile machines had swarmed the room over and removed everything of importance for reasons he wasn’t entirely sure of. The scene had repeated itself on the bridge and he’d made a note that the droid control systems were one of the first things taken. His curiosity warred with his sense of self-preservation. The less he knew about whatever they were doing, the better. It made him less of a liability later and improved his chances of making it out of this entire mess alive, or at least that’s what a lifetime spent among the sort of backstabbing present in the Trade Federation.

Liberator erupted out of hyperspace and into high orbit over Min-Na. There was a swarm of activity aboard the ship as the alarms blared and the crew readied themselves for combat. On the bridge it was a much different story. Far from the semi-ordered insanity below, the bridge was filled less with an air of excitement and more with one of puzzlement. They had dropped out of hyperspace and found themselves within easy engagement distance of a Trade Federation warship. Yet the ship in question hadn’t so much as raised its shields or aligned its turrets. It just sat there, drifting in a geosynchronus orbit of the glittering white globe of Min-Na. Energy emissions were zero, lacking even the tiny leakage of a reactor on standby. It was if the entire ship had been simply turned off. Liberator’s captain, a Devaronian with a name Jos couldn’t pronounce already had the ship moving into an optimum attack position to hit the coreship should that change. Jos and Kaleb meanwhile exchanged glances. First their premonitions, and now a Trade Federation ship that was behaving in a distinctly odd manner.

“Captain,” The Devaronian cocked an ear towards him in a gesture the Jedi knew indicated he was listening even if he was busy barking orders at the bridge crew. “Prepare a boarding party. I want a look at that ship, but be ready to hit it if it looks like they’re playing dead.” The wolfish alien nodded and began giving more orders as the two Jedi turned and left the bridge.

The doors of the airlock blew inwards in a shower of sparks as the breaching charges went off and white armored figures stormed through the smoke and debris, weapons held in ready positions as each of the clone troopers established a point of dominance within the room beyond. The sergeant leading them gave an all clear and two more armored forms stepped through. They were indistinguishable from the others except that neither of them carried the DC-17 blaster carbines the boarders had carried. A lightsaber gleamed on the hip of each and Jos checked his weapon’s quick release one more time. The clones began working their way forward, toward the coreship’s bridge. There should have been alarms, there should have been battledroids and blaster-fire. But there wasn’t. Just silence aside from the sound of the clone’s armored boots on the deck. Normally there would have been requests for orders, but Jos had worked personally with many of these clones and word of his non-interference policy had quickly gotten around to those he hadn’t worked with. So instead of wasting time asking him for orders, the Clone sergeant kept his team moving, advancing quickly, yet cautiously for the bridge.

The silence was finally broken when the sergeant raised his hand, stopping the boarding team up short.

“Blaster burns sir. Weird pattern to.” The clone gestured first to the blaster burns on floor and walls, then pointed towards the blaster scarring on the ceiling that was almost as heavy as on the other surfaces. Jos nodded and the clones began to advance once more, though the Jedi noticed that now there was always one of them with his helmet tilted upward slightly, watching the ceiling for whatever might have drawn that much fire.

The blast doors hung half open, their outer surface pitted and scarred by blaster fire. There were other marks that Jos didn’t recognize marring its surface however. Small, almost perfectly circular holes bored through the alloy of the door. The clone sergeant ran a finger over the edge, noting the look of the borehole’s interior before using a series of hand signals to position his men.

Multi-spectral flashbangs went through the door first, cranked up sufficiently to momentarily dazzle even the optics of high-end war droids, all the more effective against a wide variety of alien and droid optics. The flash was accompanied by a thunderous blast of sound that would have deafened them all if not for the dampers in their helmets. The clones were through the door in the next instant, blaster rifles up and sweeping for targets, Jos right behind them with his lightsaber drawn but inactive. There was nothing in the room, nothing moving anyway. Two wrecked destroyer droids lay crumpled on the floor. Several feet to the left of the droids the command deck was sticky with nemoidian blood, a flayed corpse lay in the middle of the stain.

“Delta-1 to Alpha-1, my team has taken the engine room.” The report took his eyes from the mutilated corpse. Others followed in rapid-fire succession.

“Beta-1 to Alpha-1, sir you’d better come take a look at this.” He blinked. That wasn’t the sort of to-the-point report you typically got from clones.

“This is Alpha-1,” Jos said, grateful for an excuse to get out off the bridge. He may have been hardened somewhat by the violence and death that had been his life since the Clone Wars began, but he didn’t like to linger over it. “Have you secured the reactor core?”

“Sir,” the clones voice sounded almost unnerved. “Sir it isn’t there anymore sir.”

-----------------

The ancient star god stopped its work momentarily. One of its servitors had reported from the now derelict ship in orbit. Intruders had boarded the vessel. Soldiers. Food. It would have grinned if its shell had allowed it. It shut the chest panel of the black armored construct that was to be its latest creation. The power of the stolen reactor had done much to heal its wounds, but even its massive power stores would be rapidly drained at the pace it had been siphoning off energy. Then there was the matter of flavor. The power of the so called ‘hypermatter reactor’ was immense, but like the power of a star it was as meals came, quite bland, though something in its reactions made it more pleasant to consume than a star. Neither could compare to the energies of a sentient being, particular not when those energies had been properly seasoned through terror and pain. It gestured soundlessly to the constructs tending the control consoles salvaged from the ship and one of them depressed a button. It might lose some of its meal this way, but what was left would be more than worth the loss.

The burst transmission was brief, a single command that crossed the distance to its receivers at a speed that was for all practical measurement instantaneous, to the waiting receivers it was meant to command. And aboard the vessel, battledroids began to come online.

It was the Force that saved Kaleb’s life. He, like the clones was momentarily distracted by the oddity before them. His instincts screamed at him and the padawan spun away from the gaping emptiness where a high-powered reactor should have been, saber igniting and narrowly deflecting the blaster bolt that would have blow his spine out through his heart. The clones were already moving, taking cover to either side of the reactor room’s entryway and snapping off shots down the hallway. Lamps were disengaged in favor of low-light optics as the corridor was filled with opposing flashes of blue and red blaster fire. Kaleb peaked around the corner as one of the clones dropped back to reload. The force advancing on them was a mix of gangly Baktoid B1 battledroids with their almost skeletally thin limbs and long, narrow faces, and the much larger and more intimidating looking B2 Super Battledroids. He dropped back as the trooper swung back to resume firing. He may have been a Jedi padawan but the storm of blaster fire sleeting down the hallway at them was more than any Jedi he knew of could handle alone. The sergeant signaled to his men and the clones switched over to fully automatic fire and replied with a storm of their own. The droids were so tightly packed it was impossible to miss and Kaleb momentarily longed for the greater hitting power of the bigger DC-15s the clones normally used as the Super Battledroids stubbornly refused to go down. The squad leader momentarily ceased fire before reaching into his utility pouch and sending an electrostatic grenade rolling towards the advancing mechanical killers. A moment later their optics cut out as the device detonated and the hallway went bright with crackling blue-white energy. They reactivated a moment later once the light had passed below the threshold to blind them and Kaleb could see the droids jerking spastically. The B1s, built to far less demanding standards than their B2 cousins, collapsed into jerking heaps, their circuits cooked by the surge. The Super Battledroids continued to advance, albeit unsteadily and for the moment their wrist blasters had ceased firing. The thermal detonator that followed the ES grenade changed that. The sergeant had just called out for condition reports when they heard the rhythmic clashing of metal on metal.. and the second wave advanced on them.

Jos tried his comm-unit again and cursed when the signal dissolved into static as he tried to reach Kaleb. Outside the bridge doors a thermal detonator detonated and the clones fighting from cover ducked to avoid the answering flurry of blaster bolts that poured through the doorway. They’d just been about to move out and rendezvous with Kaleb’s group in the reactor room when Jos’ instincts had screamed warnings to him and the clone sergeant had shouted a warning. The destroyer droids had come around the corner in that same instant, folding open like some kind of nightmare children’s toy. But these were no toys, and in as the first blaster bolts had seared passed them, shield generators had spun up and the following blaster bolts had splashed harmlessly against the bubble-like projections. Then the return fire had come, the rapid-fire repeating blasters in each of the droids’ arms sending a flurry of deadly energy at the surprised clones. Now the fight had degenerated into a stalemate, the bolts from the DC-17s lacking the punch to penetrate the Droidekas’ shields, while the cover the clones had taken was proving too sturdy for the blasters. A quick hand-signal flickered among the clones and a pair of boxy electro-static grenades skipped off the floor and detonated. Arcs of blue-white energy snaked across the floor and leapt between the shield bubbles. Within, the droidekas writhed and twitched as the devastating surge of energy was conducted through the metal decking and into the machines. They were made of sterner stuff than the B1s though and instead of exploding or collapsing their shields simply failed. The clones didn’t give them a chance to recover though, leaning out from their sheltered positions and hammering both droids to scrap in a veritable hurricane of blaster bolts.

The clones moved gingerly out of cover, weapons dropping from firing position only long enough for them to slap in new power packs. Jos busied himself with trying to establish contact with the second boarding team. All he got was a horrible squealing noise he recognized as a sign of jamming. He got the same results when he tried establishing a link to the Liberator. The pattern continued until he at last gave up and switched back to the short-range commlinks.

Kaleb deactivated his lightsaber, struggling to breath through his helmet’s filtration mask. All around him lay the smoking remains of the second battledroid assault. The last few minutes had been far more intense than anything he’d encountered on Farnagur. The battledroids had come marching straight down the hall, their only concession to any kind of tactical improvement being the trio of shielded droidekas they’d advanced behind. Electrostats had handled them until the B1s and B2s swarmed around them and rushed their position. The droids had gotten too close for grenades and it had turned into a brutal close range shooting match. Kaleb wasn’t entirely sure what had happened as soon after the melee began he’d surrendered himself to the whims of the Force as he cut down droid after droid. Finally though it was over and he watched as the clones began patching up their wounded.

The C’Tan’s perceptions stretched out, feeling the tiny motes of life sitting in orbit above the planet. Fear and excitement were rife through them, though not to the degree it had hoped. It considered things for a moment, then its shell rippled in a hideous imitation of a grin. It reached out and sent its commands and within the bowels of the planet ancient engines powered up.. and discharged.

Jos shuddered suddenly as sensation washed over him. The closest he could come to describing it was like he had been placed under a microscope for a moment, and then his senses snapped him back to reality as they screamed danger to him. A sickly green flash from behind them illuminated the bulkhead and he’d just started to turn when that same corpse-light flickered again and a verdant beam struck the clonetrooper next to him. He froze momentarily at the horror before him as the trooper’s armor seemed to erode away followed by skin, muscle, and bone. The Force shoved him back into motion and an assisted leap sent him in a low, fast arc over the clone in front of him. The Jedi spun, coming down on his feet with lightsaber drawn, facing the new threat. Battledroids of some type he didn’t recognize stood there in a group leveling strange weapons at them and something told him that it would be a bad idea to try stopping one of those hideous weapon blasts with his lightsaber. The clones had only just begun to turn, their own merely human reflexes insufficient compared to the precognitive powers of a Jedi Knight. Too slow, Jos threw his hand forward and the new machines flew backward as if swept back by an invisible hand. All but the largest, a great hunchbacked thing wielding an even more massive weapon that it brought to bear in a movement that made up for its lack of speed with its equal lack of wasted motion. Jos and the clones dove aside and narrowly avoided the green energy blast that whipped by them. He took a moment to look back and was chilled at the very familiar looking hole in the bulkhead. That answered one question at least. He turned back toward the machine and rushed, blurring as the Force augmented his speed. Blaster bolts whipped passed him as the clones focused fire on the smaller machines which were just now getting to their feet and Jos had just enough time to note with despair how ineffective the blasts seemed to be before he was on their larger leader. His first swing should have cut through the weapon’s barrel but instead the mechanical monstrosity brought the weapon around and caught the blade to one of the sharp protrusions around its barrel. A flickering green energy field surrounded it and Jos narrowed his eyes before going on the attack once more.

It didn’t take him long to realize that the fight was not going to be as one sided as he was used to. The machine couldn’t match his speed, but that strange energy field was proving damnably effective in repulsing his lightsaber and his attacks against its outer carapace had proven almost as fruitless, leaving only shallow gouges and smoking patches on its shell. What was this damnable thing made of? It was almost like the stories he’d read of cortosis-weave blades that were common several thousand years ago. The entire room was alive with blue and green flashes, mixed with the constant silver glow of his lightsaber as the clones continued to poor fire into the other machines. This wasn’t working, they didn’t have the firepower to deal with these machines as it was. “Sergeant, we’re pulling back. Electrostats when I’m clear.”

“Yes General.” Jos leapt away in the next instant and he saw the grenades pass him in mid-jump. The room flared with azure light as they detonated and the clones bolted through the door, the Jedi behind them. Just before he lost sight of them Jos felt his heart sink as the machines stepped free from the crackling energy, apparently unharmed.

[Comosicus]

Looking good. That's a good oportunity to learn more about the Necrons

[SylasGaunt]

Going back over the thread I noticed someone asked if the dark siders knew about this.. check back in the text where we first meet Kolto Gunray

[SylasGaunt]

Kaleb spun, lightsaber humming lethally as it carved through the air, and swore as once more the glowing energy blade passed through the droid like a ghost. He may as well have been fighting smoke, except smoke didn’t typically try and remove your vital organs. Behind him the clones were doing their best to hold back the more humanoid, and far less elusive machines that were closing on them from the other end of the corridor. From the number of grenade detonations he’d heard so far it couldn’t have been going well. The phantasmal machine vanished through the floor ahead of his latest lightsaber strike and the padawan leapt back, gaining additional room to maneuver. Sweating he closed his eyes and focused on his teachings. Master Jos always said that you sometimes had to take a step back and look if you were going to solve some problems. Bulling ahead just got you angry, frustrated, and usually resulted in failure. So he stepped back. Eyes shut he ‘looked’ with the Force, letting it guide him. The Wraith erupted from the ceiling like some kind of hideous jack-in-the-box, knife fingers spread wide and glittering in the light of Kaleb’s blade. The lightsaber flashed, catching the droid just as it flickered back into a solid state, scoring a sheering through it's armored shoulder in a spray of sparks. Still in the thrall of the force Kaleb spun low, his head dropping under the hand-strike that would have torn his face off, then lunged upward, lightsaber sweeping up with him. The humming orange blade carved through the third joint of the machine’s long snake-like tail. Molten metal splattered across the floor and the room was filled momentarily with a gagging, scorched smell and the needle tipped appendage dropped to the floor as its former owner vanished into the floor once more. For a moment his danger senses announced an all clear. Then suddenly shrieked once more, but not with any specific direction to them. Naked terror filled his entire being as the Force reacted to something, and on the edges of his senses he could feel a presence. Something dark, oppressive, and hungry, an all-consuming blackness he would have referred to as an abyss if not for the malice and hunger that filled it. For just a moment he stared into it, and for a seeming eternity it stared back. Then it was gone, and Kaleb felt an unbelievable emptiness like the Force had fled with it. Then he collapsed, and everything went black.

Jos stumbled as the scream came. It was like nothing he’d ever heard through the Force before, and with it came a terror the likes of which he had never contemplated existing. It permeated him, consuming every conscious thought. For a single, eternal moment, it utterly controlled him and the only thing that penetrated it was a Gaze. An undeniable knowledge that something, somewhere was examining him like a microbe under a scope. Then both feelings evaporated and he collapsed to his hands and knees, gasping for breath, sweat soaking into the body glove of his armor.

The C’tan contemplated what it had seen. That strange energy connection that it had sensed in the man-thing was present in two of the beings in the ship above, but much stronger. It turned its gaze back to the matte black form on the slab before it. They would make a perfect test for its latest creation, and if they could be taken alive, possibly serve to further its research. It directed its will and its commands were given.

Jos looked back down the hall as the hunchbacked machine from earlier came around the bend, or did it? Its armor was pristine, without any signs of lightsaber burns. The other machines followed in that same, slow, unhurried but unstoppable pace. They began to raise their weapons as the clone sergeant pulled him to his feet and urged him on, and then vanished in a green flash. For a moment Jos thought they’d fired and he was dead, but when his vision cleared the machines may as well have never been there.

The star god shambled through its tomb until it found what it sought. That spark, that urge to make new and terrible things was fully in motion now, and it would not be denied. The Nemoidian sniveled as he approached, and it stopped before it was too close for the little creature to keep its brain on what it wanted. It hissed to him in the ancient language of the Necrontyr. The translation boomed through Kolto's mind. “You mentioned these so called mystics, these.. Jedi. Tell me everything you know of them. Now.”

Jos protested only lightly as the clones handed him over to the medics. For one he just didn’t feel up to it. All his senses felt fuzzy and stunted, most alarmingly his Force senses. Almost as if that all-connecting energy field was hesitant to come to him where that awful Gaze might fall upon it again. The medics quickly divested him on his armor and he found his mind drifting. A lot of good it had done the poor trooper caught in the disgusting light of that terrible, terrible weapon. He knew of course that it was never meant to stop something like a direct blaster hit. The only reason he wore it and insisted Kaleb wear it was that he had seen far too many of his fellow Jedi cut down by something as simple as shrapnel because they didn’t. But that awful green light was something he’d never seen the like of. It had been wasteful, inefficient, and cruel to a degree he couldn’t imagine. The kind of power it would take to perform that horrific flaying effect must have been immense, far in excess of what it would have taken to kill even an armored trooper through direct energy transfer. His thoughts took a turn for the morbid as he recalled the effects of the weapon in almost perfect detail. What had the trooper felt when that happened? Had it been pain? Or had he been dead before it worked its way to his nerves? More questions flooded into his disjointed thoughts at the memory of that green light. The same sickly color as the light into which the mysterious machines had vanished. How had they managed something like that? Teleportation was something one usually only saw in bad science-fiction holovids, not something practical and useable. Was that what the CIS was working on out here? Some kind of teleporter? Those mysterious battledroids? Both? The questions were still running through his mind when he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

A wall of fire crashed through the duracrete canyons of Coruscant. Above that sea of fire the capitol’s remaining buildings were covered in blue and green flashes as clonetroopers fought desperate last stands against flickering black forms that deflected their shots and retaliated with that hideous green light that unmade all it touched. The temple itself burned and the smoldering night sky echoed with the death-cry of far too many Jedi. Something stalked the halls of the temple, something vaguely insectile, composed of some unidentifiable metal that was slightly nauseating to look at. Through the temple it went, and where Jedi crossed its path, Jedi died. Died with an ease nobody in the Republic would have believed possible. Younglings, padawans, knights, and masters, age and experience did nothing to shield them from the Thing’s predations. It came to a door, the archives, and stretched one taloned hand to touch it..

Jos woke to the sight of the medical center’s ceiling. He sat up slowly, careful not to overextend himself until he knew more. He stretched out through the force, then immediately pulled his perceptions back. Now that he knew about the presence he almost couldn’t help but feel it. Something watching from just outside his current limits, something that evoked a primal fear of the unknown and latent racial memories of huddling around a campfire to keep the beasts away. He shuddered and finally sighed with relief when something drew its attention away from him. He tried to compose himself as the medic tapped a button on his personal comp.

“Finally awake I see General, tell me, how do you feel?”
“Recovering. How long have I been out?”
“Just a few hours. We decided to let you rest while we dealt with Kaleb.”
“What happened to him?” Concern colored his voice as the Doctor’s matter of fact statement was actually processed.
“He’s fine as far as we can tell. He collapsed aboard the ship, nobody’s quite sure why.”

Jos didn’t have any real doubt as to why. The young padawan must have also found himself under the gaze of the nameless entity that watched them. An entity that seemed to cause the Force itself to tremble, but that couldn’t possibly be the case. It had to be his own mind trying to rationalize. The medic gave him another few prods, pokes, and scans, before finally nodding.
“Feel free to leave anytime sir. I’m giving you a clean bill of health.”
“Can I see my Padawan now?” He said, donning the fresh set of Jedi robes that had been waiting at his bedside.
“Certainly General. Two doors back on the left.” The other human had almost completely tuned him out, absorbed now in tapping away on an electronic slate. The Jedi gave an internal shrug and departed, the door hissing shut behind him.

Kaleb was in a barren, unfamiliar place when consciousness returned. The land was barren for as far as they eye could see. Then flashes in the sky, reality swam and there was a brief impression of howling wind, and suddenly the landscape was no longer barren. Wreckage littered the landscape. To the north, an Acclamator was imbedded nose first in the ground, like some kind of inverted festival tree. Reality swam again and the alien landscape was gone, replaced by surroundings of shattered metal. There were flashing lights, and the sound of clashing lightsabers and a bone-white blur flashed by, seemingly surrounded by a rippling half-sphere of energy. Jedi were there, some he recognized, some he didn’t. Sabers clashed as they pursued the pale form, some kind of droid? It countered the attacks with its own sabers before dissolving into an acrobatic whirl. Lightsabers flashing in all directions, switching hands, being grasped in taloned feet, stopping every blow the surrounding Jedi tried to land. The world twisted once more and something else was there. The bodies of Jedi were scattered about, and something dark and malevolent crouched over the pale droid. He got only the faintest impression of color, metallic green, as it picked up the predatory looking mechanical by the face, examining it closely and exposing the shredded chest cavity. Not a droid then, some manner of cyborg if the fleshy rags clinging to the inside of the cavity were anything to go by. It leaned close, hellfire burning in its gaze as stared into the eye slits in the pale, bony faceplate.
“I should thank you for providing me with these specimens, they’ll prove most useful for my future plans. And you, you will prove equally useful once you’ve been.. optimized.” It’s second wickedly taloned hand moved too fast even for his Jedi senses to track, and buried themselves in the eye-sockets and faceplate of the cyborg. Kaleb had seen horrible things on Farnagar. He’d seen horrible things ever since he took to the front lines in the Clone Wars. Men maimed and killed, continents burned to the bedrock, atrocities of the worst sort. Somehow, the grating, metallic laugh of the Thing crouched in his vision outdid them all.

[Murazor]

Ctan + Grievous = Outbound Flight never looked so good as right now.

You are an evil, evil man...

[SylasGaunt]

I know more than just Murazor are reading this.. SPEAK!

Anywho, chapter 6 has moved along a bit but is currently stalled due to work on final papers. I might plug away at it some tonight or tomorrow now that I have some free time.

[NecronLord]

I'm reading it, but you get my comments when I proof it.

[SylasGaunt]

Indeed, I do, which is why you get an exemption

[NecronLord]

Now. Go read mine or I'll hurt you.

[Coalition]

Enjoying the chapters, but need more. Sounds like the C'Tan is a sadistic toymaker. 1% inspiration and 99% sheer howling terror makes a new robot.

[SylasGaunt]

Next chapter's been sent to my pre-reader.

[SylasGaunt]

The LAAT/I gunships shuddered as they breached the atmosphere. Each of the stocky craft was packed to capacity with clonetroopers, as were the heavy landing ships following behind them. Jos’ grip tightened, holding him upright against the turbulence of the atmosphere and he once again wondered if he was rushing things. He may have been acting prematurely, but his gut told him he couldn’t sit idle. Not after the visions he’d experienced, and certainly not after Kaleb had started experiencing them. They weren’t going to find anything if they sat around in orbit, they would need to investigate on the ground.

Orbital surveillance had located what was believed to be the Separatist borehole and plans had been swiftly composed to land and secure it in force. Enough troops had been left behind to (carefully) secure the hulk of the droid control ship, but the remainder of the troops had gone down on the landers. The pilot called back with an ETA that he wasn’t really paying attention to. Instead he was stretching out with the Force, trying to find something, anything, that would explain his premonitions. How could this world, a barren ice ball that nobody on his staff had even heard of before he’d mentioned it, be so vital to future events? Was it even important? Or was he just misinterpreting his feelings?

His perceptions swept downward, through the atmosphere, through the ice, to something beneath, a complex. The Force screamed back at him and he found himself again back within his own body, holding himself upright only through his death-grip on one of the troop handles. He did his best to control his breathing and the shudders that threatened to wrack his body. There it was again, that creeping, predatory presence that the Force refused to touch. The warning light clicked on above him and he forced his body to steady itself. The LAAT’s repulsorlifts began to whine with strain as they performed a hard break only a few feet off the ground. Clones began to fall, dropping to covering positions around the aircraft in a perimeter some hundred meters from the borehole. The remaining gunships spread out, dropping troops into an outer perimeter in which the following heavy transports would land.

Jos’ gaze wandered to the borehole as an AT-TE was released next to him; it’s heavy tread shaking the ground with a pulsing rhythm. He’d seen the orbital photographs. In them the borehole had seemed just a gap in the ice, nothing really special, now though, now it felt dark and menacing. Like the gateway to some kind of nightmare realm out of a child’s bedtime story only no story could have caused the dread he felt looking at it.

He tore his gaze away long enough to clamber aboard the AT-TE and direct the driver to keep the hole covered with the walker’s considerable firepower as the perimeter began to form. Kaleb would land with the first of the heavy transports, and then they could investigate further. The question remained though of whether or not he’d wish whatever it was had never been found.

Kaleb stepped back to admire his handiwork. Nineteen kill tags now ran under the cockpit of the Saber class fighter-tank, kills he hadn’t gotten a chance to tally before their departure from Farnagar. Some Jedi were at their most deadly behind the controls of an Aethersprite, some like the famous Master Windu were consummate swordsmen. Still others were diplomats and statesmen who could change the allegiance of entire planets with their words alone. Kaleb had never done more damage to the CIS than he had in his fighter-tank. The nimble little vehicle was equally at home in almost any environment and could be a threat to almost anything on the battlefield in the right hands. More than a few CIS tanks had been reduced to glowing scrap by a well-placed concussion missile. Sure its armor wasn’t much compared to something like an AT-TE but with a Jedi behind the controls most droids had found it impossible to take advantage of that fact. He half suspected his love of the little machine was the reason his master had sent him in with the follow-on wave. Sure it made sense militarily keeping them out of the same transport when making a landing that would meet unknown amounts of resistance but he knew the older man was quietly amused by his padawan’s attachment to the vehicle. He slipped into the open cockpit and settled himself in the pilot’s seat. There was a clank as 370 his clone beam-gunner slipped into position behind the laser cannon’s blast shield. Ahead of them warning lights began to blink with increasing frequency as they neared the surface. Green light.

The padawan hit the accelerator, flashing out of the ship before the ramp had even lowered all the way. The other tanks of his formation followed behind him, turrets traversing as they spread out quickly in a textbook deployment. Satisfied they were in the clear he felt for his master’s present and slid his tank in alongside a hexapedal AT-TE.

The Forger was practically salivating at the swarm of lives it felt above it. So many tastes to be sampled. Certainly most of them felt extremely similar, but there was still tremendous variety among them despite seeming to spring from a common base. Then there were the reactors of vehicles and machinery, and far above it all the far blander but much more massive power sources of their ship and the system’s primary. Its anticipation was nearly as great for the machinery they brought with them. In time’s long past the Forger as it had been called by the servants of the Old Ones had taken delight in creating new devices to ‘flavor’ its meals through terror and despair, and what it felt above promised to open so many new possibilities. Then of course there was the new Executioner. The lives above had the regimented, orderly feel that tended to accompany trained warriors. They would make a wonderful spread of opponents to test it against. First though they would have to be, reduced somewhat. It gestured to the sweating Nemoidian standing near the droid control computer.

“Activate your constructs. The skinny, amusing ones only for now, I’d like to free up some room.” Kolto shivered at the sound of the voice in his ears as he entered the commands. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way it spoke in a language he had never heard yet one he could understand as easily as Basic. Elsewhere, thousands of Baktoid Armorworks B1 battle droids came online and began to march up the borehole tunnel, blaster rifles at the ready. The B1s were cheap, but Kolto still didn’t like thinking of just how expensive a space clearing the creature he served was proposing. He wasn’t able to relax again until he felt the ripple of disturbed air that indicated his lord had departed for the moment.

The Lord watched passively as the glittering midnight form sat up. It didn’t bear the dullness of age that clung to the Lord and its troops like a cloak. But then, it was new. It had never seen planets burn and starts go cold. Never felt the weight of millennia eating away at even it’s most advanced systems. There was also something slightly off about the way it moved. Most necrons it watched moved with a measured, and very mechanical precision. Some did so with truly blinding speed, but this was different. Sloppier, more organic, but heavily shaded with that precision. Yet it was undeniably its master’s creation, however new it may look next to the others. The God had dubbed it an Executioner, and it was as good a name as any. Its ebon fingers clutched a warscythe, and a deep-blue cloak marked it as another command unit. The God’s will reached them, and the Necrons, old and new, prepared for the next phase of the plan.
Dozens of droids exploded as cannon fire sleeted into their ranks from the entrenched vehicles above. The blaster-fire from the droids was essentially worthless against the heavily armored vehicles firing down upon them. Jos watched on the data screens in the troop compartment as what was essentially a massacre took place. The droids didn’t stand a chance in this environment. The B1s were lightly armored, with only very basic combat programming. All those he could see were equipped only with the cheaply made blasters that they were usually equipped with. They may as well have been spitting on a neutron star for all the damage they were doing. There was a little damage of course. You couldn’t armor sensor and comms antennae but otherwise the fighter-tanks and walkers were completely unaffected. Even with their numbers the droid force would never make it up the shaft at this rate, they were simply being destroyed too fast by the guns of the Republican vehicles. The slaughter continued on for so long that the semi-carnage below began to blend together, the hammer of the guns becoming downright monotonous. Jos turned his thoughts inward, trying to come up with a theory as to why the Separatists were simply throwing droids away like this. He’d turned his thoughts so thoroughly on this matter that he almost missed the warning screamed to him by the force..

Kaleb shouted commands into his comm-link, throwing his tank group into wild evasive maneuvers as a heavy anti-tank rocket struck the tank to his left. They’d gotten careless, killing droids with impunity for so long their attention had lapsed and they hadn’t noticed that a few of those now scattered in the front ranks were packing missile launchers instead. Those droids immediately turned into priority targets and the front rank evaporated in a massive fireball as the fighter-tanks volleyed their concussion missiles. Walkers and repulsor-tanks immediately threw themselves into reverse, backing off out of the tunnel to await the droids on the surface and give themselves more room to maneuver. The fighter-tanks were the last out, using their superior maneuverability to evade what missiles they could while keeping a steady stream of covering fire streaking down the borehole. There wasn’t to be any rest waiting for them on the surface though and threat detection systems screamed.

“Delta Lead, we have a formation of what appear to be enemy speeders coming in on our left flank. The sentries say about a dozen or so, but their heavy weapons haven’t landed yet. All reports indicate they’re making a beeline for the borehole, probably trying to hit us with the droids. I’m ordering you to break off from the borehole defense and intercept them.” Jos’ voice was clear and steady over the comm-link, and Kaleb was able to locate the contacts with a glance at his sensors. Unknown configuration, but small. Of course a combat system didn’t have to be large to be nasty, and they were certainly large enough to be carrying anti-armor weapons. Almost certainly given the way they’d bypassed the incomplete fortifications on the left flank and made a beeline for the already engaged Republic armor.

“Roger that master. Deltas, you heard him. Spread out, give each other plenty of room for evasive maneuvers.” A chorus of identical Rogers came over the comm in response and the 16 remaining fighter tanks of Kaleb’s unit spun and streaked towards the incoming enemy. They were visible now, black dots on the horizon, and Kaleb began working towards a firing solution. The Force screamed to him of danger, and a hideously familiar green blast, streaked by him and cut Delta-9 in two.

“All Deltas, evasive, evasive!” More beams came now, ripping into the ice and snow around them, as the remaining tanks of Delta platoon opened up in a roaring fusillade of missiles and laser fire. The approaching enemy speeders likewise initiated their own evasive maneuvers. There were casualties on both sizes, the attackers exploding in sprays of molten metal and sizzling debris. Their targets died as well though, as verdant blasts chewed their way through repulsor pods and cockpits, sending fighter-tanks tumbling into the now stained ice. Then the two formations intersected and chaos reigned.

Kaleb caught one fleeting glimpse of them. A vehicular body where the repulsor mechanisms must have been, topped with a humanoid upper-torso reminiscent of a metal skeleton, except that one arm was composed of a massive cannon, that same sickening green power flickering through a transparent chamber in its barrel. A targeting array gazed back at him like the baleful eye of a demon from myth and legend, and Kaleb surrendered himself to the force as Delta platoon fought for their lives in a contest more like true fighter combat than an armored clash.

Neither side could withstand anything but a glancing hit from the other’s weaponry, and so the battle devolved into a swirling melee as fighter-tanks and the strange droid speeders jockeyed for firing positions on each other. Weapons blazed and men and machines were wiped away. However, as powerful as the enemy’s weapons were their firepower would have been better spent on more speed and maneuverability. Their weapons were overkill against something like a fighter-tank that relied on speed as its primary defense. Both sides were left with a relatively even standing. Both could kill the other with a direct hit, and both were about as skilled and accurate. However the republic forces had two major advantages. They outnumbered the enemy machines, not by much but even going one-on-one left several fighter-tanks free to join in and tip the scales on any of the myriad duels occurring. Their second major advantage, was that they had a Jedi with them.

The droid speeders may have been an even match for clone pilots, but Kaleb was no clone pilot, and speeder after speeder exploded under his guns. The battle lasted ninety furious seconds after the two forces interpenetrated. Ninety seconds in which the enemy force was almost totally wiped out and half of Delta platoon consisted of empty hulks embedded in the ice. Now only one of the droid speeders remained, speeding off towards a nearby canyon. Kaleb’s training said to pull back, to regroup. But his blood was up, and however much responsibility had been granted to him, he was still a teenager, with all the impulsiveness that word implies. He swung about to pursue, though he retained sense enough to send his XO and most of the remaining tanks back to report and assist in any way required. He kept two wingmen with him and all three tanks shot forward as they hit their boosters.

The crevasse was tight, almost too tight for the clone pilots to get their tanks through, but they’d been trained for this sort of thing. It was keeping the droid in sight that was proving the most difficult part, the unfamiliar machine swerving through the maze of the canyon at speeds most pilots would consider insane. Kaleb and the clones would not be deterred though, they kept right on the machine, refusing to lose more ground, until at last they broke out of the canyon and into an open depression, a sinkhole in the ice, he realized after a moment. The speeder-droid was still running, mostly likely towards another crevasse he could see in the far wall. The machine drove straight up a shallow hill, and at last exploded as Delta-3 drilled it through the center of mass with his Saber’s laser cannons.

The trio of tanks crested the hill and began reducing speed. The Force screamed once more and Kaleb’s eyes picked out two figured that stood in stark contrast to the snow. Droids, the both of them, one an age-dulled silvery color and shrouded in a tattered blue cloak. The other, glimmering and new, as black as the inside of a coffin, and shrouded in the same kind of cloak as the first machine. Both gripped a staff-like weapon in their hand, one end of which contained both the crackling green discharge chamber of one of those hideous new droid weapons, and a large and wicked looking blade. Both shimmered though, as if standing in the midst of a Tatooine heat haze. Kaleb’s fingers started to depress the firing studs for the laser cannons. In that same instant the ebon figure raised a taloned hand, gestured in an uncomfortably familiar fashion, and both fighter-tanks suddenly heaved as an unseen hand seemingly swatted their noses into the ground. Both vehicles tumbled, end-over-end, passed the two Necron warlords that had come out to face them, and smashed into the wall of ice on the far end of the sinkhole.

[Coalition]

Excellent. The Padawan just realized that going off alone might be a bad thing.

[SylasGaunt]

Well he wasn't alone, he kept a pair of tanks with him.. he just didn't anticipate running into the Executioner.

[SylasGaunt]

Kaleb started as he regained consciousness. The last thing he remembered was the two droids and.. No, that wasn’t possible. A mine maybe? He tried to open the hatch but the drivers only made a strained noise without opening. It was probably jammed against the cliff-face, but he had an easy solution to that. The padawan ignited his lightsaber and carved a circular hole through the front of the tank. One quick force-push later and he leapt free of the tank’s wreckage. The two droids held their ground though they brought their pole-arms into a ready position, and Kaleb’s eyes narrowed as their images wavered again. It was far too much like the machine he’d faced aboard the Trade Federation vessel to be coincidence. Despite the intense cold he began to sweat, his confidence deserting him under the baleful gaze of the machines. He tried, with only partial success, to center himself. Fear was the path to the dark-side, and even he had nothing to fear from any two droids, even if he was only a padawan. Then they moved, and that idea was shattered.

The older looking of the two droids was fast, far faster than the ones Master Jos had described, and it’s weapon flickered in and out in a lightning pattern that would cripple him if he missed a step. This wasn’t right either, even as fast as it was he should have been able to read its movements better, but the precognitive alerts he was so used to getting from the Force were oddly.. fuzzy and indistinct. He could still read them, but he’d never had this kind of trouble predicting the attacks of a droid before. It was taking all his concentration just to keep this thing from shredding him.. where was the other tank? Come to think of it where was the other droid? The Force screamed a warning at him, loud and clear and he drew on it to leap clear just before heavy laser bolts hammered the position he’d occupied. He smiled in the air, the third tank must have circled out when its pilot saw his own tank wrecked and come back in to assist. He landed just in time to see the machine stride out of the cloud of steam unharmed. The fighter-tank swerved to avoid the blast of green energy the droid retaliated with and countered with a pair of concussion missiles from the tank’s internal launchers. Kaleb cursed in a most un-jedi like manner as the heavy anti-vehicle missiles passed through the machine like a ghost and detonated against the other side of the sinkhole. He caught a flicker of darkness in the corner of his vision and before he could shout a warning a black blur slammed into the side of the tank, resolving itself into the second droid, it’s staff weapon’s blade carving through the transparisteel viewport and the clones within with equal ease. The machine leapt from its perch and the tank, no longer under any kind of control, tumbled and smashed into the wreckage of its wingmates. Kaleb felt a chill. How had it moved so fast? He’d never seen a droid move like that, and that weapon.. The machines started to move again, the older looking machine standing back as the ebon horror that had destroyed his formation began to stride towards him at an unhurried pace, occasionally spinning its staff in a most undroidlike flourish.

Jos’ head snapped up and turned . Kaleb was in trouble. He left orders with the clones to continue to hold against the battle droids before making his way through the AT-TE and dropping to the ground from an escape hatch. He listened and after long moments managed to pick up the whine of an idling speeder engine over the din of the battle in the tunnel. He made his way through the clones until he found what he was looking for. A pair of scouts warming their speeders up in preparation for resuming their patrols. He leapt over them onto one of the speeders.

“Sorry soldier, I need to borrow this.” He threw open the throttle and the speeder howled off across the icy wastes towards where he sensed his padawan. He hoped his intuition had warned him soon enough.

Kaleb staggered back under the force of the blow, his command of the Force only barely sufficient to keep the impact from driving the lightsaber into his own shoulder. Then another blow came, and another, slamming into him with strength far greater than any droid he’d ever encountered. It wasn’t the strength that worried him though; it was the speed of the machine that concerned him. The droid was fast, unbelievably so, but that speed was coupled with an almost prescient anticipation of his moves. No matter how quickly he struck, no matter how intricate his attacks, the ebony armored mechanoid seemed to see it coming and brought its bladed weapon around to intercept, that same blade stubbornly refusing to be cut. He slipped aside to avoid a cut that would have bisected him and retaliated with a slash at the machine’s neck. Instead of dodging though it smashed his saber aside, leaving him wide open to a reverse stroke that would have disemboweled him. The stroke never came though as it paused, letting him recover, and that was when Kaleb at last came to the obvious conclusion.. the machine was toying with him.

The tunnel had gone silent, it’s interior strewn with shattered droids and mangled clones. Uninjured troopers picked their way through the detritus, recovering the wounded and probing deeper into the oppressive darkness. Kappa-57 raised his hand in a signal that brought his team to a halt, the other troopers dropping behind what little cover they could find and directing their weapons down the tunnel. They waited for long moments, watching and listening, and at last the others noticed what had brought 57 up short. A steady vibration permeated the ice, faintly rattling some loose bit of debris farther down the tunnel. The squad leader gestured and the clones began advancing by leapfrog, half the squad covering while the other half moved, then vice versa. Nothing moved in the darkness, and nothing registered on the helmet-mounted sensors of the clones. They had just started to move again when the tunnel was momentarily filled by a blast of green light that was almost solid, a flash of light that had come from behind them.

The borehole exploded in a blast of steam and a section approximately one hundred meters long collapsed in on itself. Clonetroopers both on foot and mounted within vehicles were buried in the avalanche, while those on the surface suddenly scrambled to readiness. It was a sign of their training that they were ready so soon after so sudden a shock. Then the ground heaved once more, chunks of ice falling aside or flashing to steam that contributed to the cloud, the heat of which caused it to linger even in the frigid air of Min-na. A sickly verdant glow began to permeate the cloud, and in the mist the sons of Jango Fett could make out a pair of glowing green stars, hovering atop two massive pyramidal shadows. And then bedlam reigned over the ice-fields of Min-Na.

Kaleb ducked under a swing that nearly took his head off and pushed with the force. The nightmarish battle droid was blown off its feet by the telekinetic shockwave that exploded from his hand. However it righted itself in mid-air and shoved its free hand towards him. Kaleb had tried to deny what he had seen earlier when his tank was destroyed. He had hoped that the machine’s ability to outclass him with a blade had been simply the result of good combat programming and the superhuman reflexes of an electronic mind. He couldn’t rationalize what happened next though as an invisible hand reached out and smashed him backwards into the wreckage of his tank. There was only one possible conclusion; the machine was somehow using the Force against him.

[Murazor]

Excellent. The padawan is sooooo screwed.