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I wrote this little prologue up on impulse this week so I figured I'd post it up here (wait.. something that isn't a Draka squishing going up on the fic board? ) Constructive criticism is appreciated (particularly since I might have been off on certain weapon effects as I was going totally by memory).


Min-Na
3 months after the Battle of Geonosis

The cavern more than anything felt old. Coming in a close and disconcerting second was that it felt dead. In even the oldest tombs one could usually find some sign of life. Assorted insects and rodents seemed to have a talent for getting into such places no matter how old or well built they were. This tomb was nothing like that. There was simply nothing there. A silence that was unbelievably complete. Kodan Noor took a moment to examine the wall. It was some kind of black metal he didn’t recognize, and when the light hit it at just the right angle he could almost pick out a green glow beneath the surface. There where strange glyphs on those walls, set in a quicksilver colored metal he also couldn’t identify. His battle-droid escort followed, much to his irritation. He’d been hired by the Confederacy of Independent Systems to investigate the structure, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. The CIS had any number of available archaeologists they could have hired to handle it and yet for some reason they were coming to him. Granted he had a very good reputation for caring little about political alliances, but the cynic in him said that should have been a deterrent to the CIS wanting him on their payroll. After all shouldn’t they be more inclined to hire someone who supported their cause? The only possible thing he could think of was his hypothesis regarding an ancient civilization ruled by droids that had come to the galaxy millions of years before.. that paper had gotten him laughed out of the academic community for the most part, forcing him out onto the fringe, quietly publishing a paper every now and then in some obscure journal as he gathered more evidence. Was that it? Or was it because they knew they could hire him and dispose of him quietly later?

He derailed that train of thought with a growl of irritation. He’d told himself when he’d taken the job he wouldn’t let the Trade Federation’s invasion of Naboo a decade before affect his work for the CIS of whom that same Trade Federation was now a part, but he was still human, and it was easy to believe the worst about the economic consortium that had invaded his homeworld. He forced his attention back to his work. Harder now that the thought had sprung forth and with the forceful reminder of the dozen Baktoid B1s that had been sent down with him. Ostensibly to protect him, and he had to admit that it was a valid excuse. Any number of nasty creatures had been known to make their homes in tombs and that left out the occasional functional defense droid. But a half a dozen? That was almost a full squad and certainly more than enough to handle anything that could fit in the corridors he’d mapped so far, so what was the real reason? Thoughts of assassination flitted through his head again and this time would not be dismissed. But there was little that could be done now, he was already two hundred feet under the surface and surrounded by twelve battle droids with blaster rifles. He kept telling himself that this was far too elaborate a trap to merely eliminate one archaeologist, besides there had been plenty of opportunities for them to kill him if that was there plan. Now he just hoped they new that.

As the scientist and his mechanical escort moved deeper into the tomb something began to watch. Deep within the pyramidal structure systems began to power up, a sickly green glow starting to fill several rooms as ancient mechanisms began to come online, shaking off the shackles of their great age and churning to life in anticipation of the still advancing intruders.

Suspicion was gone now, in its place was an excitement, a delight like that of a child who has just received that birthday present they always wanted. They were droids as far as he could tell, skeletal metal figures, each set in a niche in the wall and with rows of those niches sitting next to each other in hundred meter lengths and upward towards the ceiling. There had to be at least a thousand of the droids, possibly more. His eyes roamed the room. Arcane looking machinery glowed with a sickly green light that made him feel strangely uncomfortable. He couldn’t identify half of what was here in this veritable treasure trove. That was when his eyes fell on the two empty niches. He blinked. He hadn’t noticed any of them being empty when he came into the room..

The beam struck the rearmost battle droid square in the back. The machine made an unidentifiable mechanical sound and Kodan watched in shock as layer by layer it was stripped down to nothing. Two of the droids were advancing on their group, some form of weapon gripped in their metal hands. They fired again just as the battle droids opened up. A storm of blaster bolts sent the mechanical attackers staggering back in a shower of fragmenting bolts and molten metal. Two of the B1s were flayed down to their internal workings as the beams struck in the same instant, a third collapsing as the ancient machines staggered and one of the beams swept over its head, stripping it away along with the arm that gripped the blaster. Normal troops might have frozen at the sight of a third of their number being dispatched so quickly, the droids didn’t though, instead merely redoubling their efforts to bring down the two gray armored figures. Both of those figures were scored in a dozen places at least, everything from burn marks to wounds weeping molten metal like blood. They continued to fire though even as a fresh volley of blaster fire impacted on and around them. Six B1s remained, now five, and at last one of the two collapsed to the ground in a smoking heap, followed quickly by the second but not before it got off one last shot that decapitated a battle droid.

Kodan released the breath he just realized he’d been holding. The four remaining battle droids continued to scan for further threats, heads swiveling back and forth as their charge looked at the two partially-molten forms that lay on the floor. A chill ran through him. Those droids had been incredibly resilient to take that kind of fire, and those strange weapons.. was this what the CIS was looking for? A small army of advanced battle droids? There didn’t seem to be enough of them here to really mean much to a war on the scale of that currently raging across the galaxy.. but what if they meant to learn their secrets instead? He imagined an army of droids, armed with those strange weapons and that far too resilient armor plating and shivered again. Then something caught his eye. There was movement all over the downed droids, tiny mite-like things, the same color as the smoking wrecks from which they emerged. They scuttled and moved to the edge of the blaster wounds and Kodan’s eyes widened as they quickly began to repair them, like a timelapse film of a ship being pieced together. Even the molten metal was pooling, congealing, and flowing back to the machine. He turned to the B1s.

“You there! Quickly, destroy them before they repair themselves!” He said, pointing for emphasis. The machine paused for a moment, probably conferring with its controller in the ship waiting in orbit. It nodded.

“Roger, Roger.” All four remaining droids raised their weapons in unison.. and then two of them collapsed as the staff split them in two. Kodan stumbled back as he took in the figure. Skeletal like the others, but more ornately formed and covered in rotted and moldy wrappings. In its claw-like hand it held a staff, a wicked looking blade on one end and the other emitting that same ghastly glow that had come from the other droid’s weapons. It looked like nothing so much as the skeleton of some ancient warrior-king come to life. The two remaining droids responded with blaster fire and the machine moved to finish them as holes were burned in its ragged cloak. The impossibly sharp blade split one of the battle droids in two before it spun the staff around in a mechanically perfect motion and tore the second apart with a blast from another of those strange beam weapons. Kodan stumbled backwards, turning to run and was knocked sprawling as he ran into what felt like a wall. He opened his eyes, saw the first two droids starting to climb to their feet and scrambled back to his own, ready to bolt. When he turned he came face to face with a nightmare. It was like the other droids, but this one was hunched over strangely, and it held no weapon. It didn’t need to. It reached for him with fingers like knives, faster than any of the others had suggested they could move…

The screams echoed for some time before silence once more returned to the Tombs of Min-Na.

Superb! Wonderful! Excellent!

Wonderful! Superb! Excellent!

Excellent! Superb! Wonderful!

Etc Etc. Feel free to PM me for proof reads, necron minutae, that sort of thing.

I was wonering when you'd notice it And I take it I got the Gauss Flayer effects right then I was wondering since I was operating off my memory of how they acted in Caves of Ice

SylasGaunt wrote:I was wonering when you'd notice it And I take it I got the Gauss Flayer effects right then I was wondering since I was operating off my memory of how they acted in Caves of Ice

Yep, the gauss flayer effects are pretty-much spot on.

And this makes how many times stupid archeaologists have monkeyed round with Necron tombs? You'd think that nobody coming back out would make them think "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

Black Admiral wrote:And this makes how many times stupid archeaologists have monkeyed round with Necron tombs?

Atleast they didn't know it was a Necron Tomb.

I'm looking forward to the next chapter, good job SylasGaunt.

Black Admiral wrote:And this makes how many times stupid archeaologists have monkeyed round with Necron tombs? You'd think that nobody coming back out would make them think "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

I think he's the first one to contact the Star Wars branch of the Necrontyr.

Humm... New C'tan possibilities. I'm pretty sure it's only four "C'tan at large in the Galaxy..." given necron FTL speed however...

Well. To be fair, I read it this morning and then came home before posting. After watching SG1-Lost City on DVD I might add.

I see that I'm not the only one who's thinking of at least one additional C'tan

NecronLord wrote:

Black Admiral wrote:And this makes how many times stupid archeaologists have monkeyed round with Necron tombs? You'd think that nobody coming back out would make them think "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

I think he's the first one to contact the Star Wars branch of the Necrontyr.

I know that, I was commenting on the fact that most of the times the Necrons show up, it's because someone's decided to mess around with the mysterious artifacts and managed to wake up the guards.

Well to be perfectly fair that's where you find the vast majority of the Necrons anyway since they're not exactly inclined to roam about and throw the occasional kegger

Whaaaattt???? never heard of the C`tan Kahuna?????? He was notorious for having his soldiers have parties...course the snaks tried to get away .....

Kit-Tut Combat Zone
Planet Farnagur
3 months after the battle of Geonosis

893 slewed the cannon around just in time to interpose the heavy armor of its blast-shield between the hail of blaster-fire and his own, far less resilient armor. Through the flash of splintering bolts and aided by his helmet’s computers he caught a flash of metallic gray armor and an extended arm spewing out a stream of energy fire. His thumbs mashed down on the firing stud and a brilliant line of blue-white energy stabbed out from the weapon and cut the super battledroid in two, the halves collapsing in a spray of molten metal. His grip tightened as the fighter tank burst free of the canyon and the ambush it had contained. The vehicle under him started to turn, its repulsorlifts whining under the strain, but the clonetrooper was confident in the pilot’s ability to keep the tank upright. He moved with the turn, bringing the muzzle of the weapon up and triggering it once more. The azure beam stabbed out, cutting uncomfortably close to the second fighter tank and stabbing into one of the clusters of heavy rockets mounted on the upper hull of the pursuing hailfire droids. The weapons detonated, slamming the strange looking droid hard into the ground and up into the air as it bounced. It tumbled, showering the second vehicle in debris before skipping across the ground and going into a roll. The second droid narrowly managed to avoid its dying partner. Many of the smaller, infantry-type battledroids were not so lucky and 893 felt a moment of satisfaction as a section of severed wheel the size of a man smashed one of the shielded droideka’s flat. The cannon cycled once more and he was preparing to fire on the second hailfire when the medium laser cannons on either side of the fighter tank rocked back twice, their own blue-white bolts stabbing into both rocket packs almost simultaneously and destroying the droid in a spectacular detonation. A pair of concussion missiles streaked away from tanks two and three in the same instant riding a cone of golden fire before detonating along the canyon walls and amongst the fruitlessly pursuing droids, tossing them into the air and finally burying them in a rain of debris.

Jos popped the canopy of his fighter tank and hopped out, trying fruitlessly to take a good stretch in his body armor. The jedi smiled and took a moment to admire his handy-work before offering a smile to his clone beam gunner.

“Nice shooting 893.” The clone just stared at him. Of course any of them would have looked like that as it’s very hard to look like you aren’t staring when you’ve got a sealed helmet on, but Jos had known the clone long enough to have a feel for how he acted. At last the trooper gave a nod.

“Thank you General. However we should report the ambush back as soon as possible. If the Separatist guerilla cells have infiltrated this closely to the base we’ll need to step up patrols to make sure they don’t get any closer.” Jos sighed and nodded. Nominally he was in command of the Republic forces here on Farnagur, a world of extremes with searing deserts, barren icefields, and steaming jungles covering the majority of the surface aside from the thin temperate zones north and south of the planet’s equator, but he spent a good deal of his time deferring to his much more qualified subordinates who had either made a study of military tactics as a hobby before the war or who had spent their entire lives training to fight one. Jos wasn’t an incompetent, he just had a talent for recognizing when someone was better at something than him and had the necessary common sense to get out of their way and let them put their skills to use. Besides, the cynic in him said for what might have only been the thousandth time, you got this assignment because you were a Jedi, not because you were qualified. He didn’t like to consider that option too often but he knew for a fact that such things had happened, and at times he often wondered how anyone could have dropped the ball so badly that it did. Of course the Republic had no formal military structure to draw Generals from but the Jedi were peacekeepers. He certainly didn’t know anybody with prior experience leading armies within the order. The Jedi swept his eyes over their surroundings once more before climbing back aboard the vehicle, sealing the entry hatch behind him.

Droid Control Ship 2047
Min-Na Orbit

Kolto Gunray stared in horror at the holographs hovering before him. Each showed a different section of the ship and in each the image was mostly the same. Throughout the corridors of the ship, heavily armored battle droids strode purposefully about, destroying any droid or crew member unfortunate enough to get in their way. Nobody was entirely sure how they’d gotten aboard but that wasn’t really a concern right now. What was a concern was the way they were decimating the battle droids, super battle droids, and even Droidekas that were sent against them. The droids had managed to bring down several of the invaders in the early moments of the engagement using massed blaster fire, and a few more when they’d gotten the battle droids to the armories and the heavier weapons stored within them. That was, until the boarders had taken those same armories with the same steady, unhurried attack. It was almost like watching an avalanche on the bid in a way. Deceptively quick and every bit as devastating and destructive as it appeared. Nobody had warned him that something like this would happen. His cousin Nute had simply informed him that he was being reassigned to investigate the tombs because of some information he had received from Count Dooku. Thinking back on it, his cousin had been remarkably unforthcoming with information. However family though he may be, when the Viceroy said jump one did so and saved their questions for another time. His eyes were drawn to the holo showing the outer corridor. There was another of the droids there, cloaked in a tattered shroud and with some manner of long staff clutched in its skeletal hand. He was about to order its designation as a primary target when a choking gurgle drew his eyes from the projections.

The Thing was a nightmare given form, like a torture droid from a bad holo movie made real. But this was no movie monster, this thing was quite real, all blades and needles and placed in a frame that was like the upper body of the other battle droids only with a serpentine tail instead of legs. The needle covered end of that tail was embedded in the throat of the Droid Control Officer. Kolto stepped away hesitantly, never taking his eyes off the droid. A familiar clicking sound caused him to drop to the deck, just in time to avoid the flurry of blaster bolts from the two droidekas that were set to guard the bridge. Only then, as he cowered and tried desperately to will himself through the deck plates did the obvious question occur to him. How had it gotten onto the bridge? The blast doors had been long sealed and there was no other entrance for it to have exploited short of the ventilation ducts but those were far too small for something that large to slip through. He turned his head slightly to look, just in time to see the control officer’s killer dodge to the side, avoiding the first burst and then just as suddenly change direction and dive through the floor. Kolto blinked, no it was still gone. Even stranger was the lack of any way for it to be gone. There was no hole in the floor for it to have escaped through; in fact the floor wasn’t so much as marked aside from where it was stained with the blood of the control officer. The droidekas moved by him, their trio of legs tapping out a steady rhythm on the floor as they passed. Kolto stood up as he was now out of the line of fire. The insectile droids had lowered their shields to conserve power now that the threat had vanished and were perched over the control pit, their sensor stalks scanning over the area where the mystery droid had vanished. Kolto had just started to relax when the nightmare struck, rising out of the deck like some kind of malevolent sea serpent rising from a gray sea and lashing out with those razor-like fingers. The impossibly sharp blades were precisely aimed, striking for the exposed systems that were the weakness of the droidekas and shredding them. Both droids jerked them collapsed like puppets with their strings cut. Then it turned its attention to the rest of the bridge crew, and Kolto Gunray could do nothing but whimper in fear.

Far beneath the surface of the planet something ancient lived once more. The pain of its wounds, if such a being could ever really be considered wounded, was still fresh, an unfortunate side effect of the stasis process. It had been savaged terribly by its own brethren long ago in a far off galaxy. It knew this both because it still existed, and because that was what it had told its servants to do, and the Necrontyr were ever the obedient slaves. Ergo it was now far from its home, and hopefully far enough from the rest of its race that it could eventually recover from having most of its essence devoured. Now it pooled that little remaining self into the vessel its servants had prepared for it. Living metal flowed and reshaped itself, taking on a vaguely insectile form as per the star god’s will and shambling into the tombs. It was there that it found Kodan Noor. Or rather the creature that had once been Kodan Noor. There was little left of the archaeologist now, his mind shattered by the pain and horror he had endured as the Flayed One began its grisly work. It had stopped now at a brief flexing of its master’s will, though Noor himself was far beyond being able to notice. The C’Tan looked closely at the half-skinned human. There was something very odd about this one. It reached out and sampled, most delicately, from the creature’s life force. It nearly went into a feeding frenzy on the spot, but managed to restrain itself through a tremendous act of will. That tiny sample had been incredibly flavorful, almost as good as the essence of its fellow C’tan. But there was something else to it, a weak and somewhat tenuous connection to something far greater. It waved the Flayed One off and the necron loped away, half covered in its victim’s skin. It would be a satisfying, but all too brief meal. It needed quantity now more than it needed taste. Besides, this connection to that greater energy flow could perhaps prove useful if properly utilized.

The Lord cut down the last of the defending constructs personally, the fractal edged blade cleaving through its bluish-gray armor and sheering it in two. The last of the interlopers had been pacified, either killed or cowed and now this unfamiliar craft belonged to the Necrontyr, and thus to their now awakening God below. The Lord felt an icy kind of passion for its work. A satisfaction most closely related to that of performing one's job and performing it well, but not quite. Underlying that satisfaction was a tiny spark of hatred, the same hatred that had driven the Necrontyr to war so many millennia ago. The doors to the bridge hissed open at last. Inside the Wraith prowled about, moving through walls, floors, and cieling as if they were no more solid than the air passing over the lord's metallic carapace. In the center of the vague circle created by its motion huddled the survivors of the bridge crew. There were not many of them left, and those that were had long since lost the ability to truly comprehend their surroundings as they withdrew into themselves in a vain attempt to shut out the abbatoir-like landscape of the command pit.

The Lord didn't quite stalk through the bridge, it was too uncaring to be a stalk. The souless fire burning in the eye-sockets of its skull-like face more pre-occupied with the bridge equipment than with the weak, pathetic, flesh-things huddled together nearby. The Lord was of an age inconcievable to many mortal lifeforms, and though it had spent much of that inactive while it awaited the awakening of its god, it had spent more than enough time in the God's service to know that the ancient being always wanted to examine such things. After some minutes of further examination it finally turned its attention to the aliens that occupied this room. They would make for a tasty if miniscule morsel for the Master. The Wraith sent it a silent communication and the Lord turned its burning gaze on the one who had formerly called himself the master of this vessel. Razor edged fingers stripped shavings from a nearby console and the Lord felt a kid of joy at the wimper it produced. This one was stronger than the others it seemed and hadn't withdrawn so far into its own mind that you could no longer draw an emotional response from it. The God liked its meals better when it could savor their fear. It turned away, tattered robes swirling as it moved off into the core of the ship. There were still preparations to be made before the God could feast.

Something of a bump post.

Needless to say I thought the last chapter was very good.

I know more of you are reading this.. speak! Speak damn you!

Anywho I'm hard at work on Chapter 3. May be sent off to the prereaders as early as tomorrow evening.

I'm a lazy bastard, what can I say-



Part 3:

The Lord gazed at the black, skeletal form laid out before it like a corpse upon an autopsy slab. The God was it seemed, feeling much better now if it had returned to its old patterns of tinkering and technological diversification. The armored form had obviously been modified from a chassis similar to his own. Indeed physically it was almost identical to the Lord’s own. There were some cosmetic differences of course. Where the Lord’s carapace was a metallic gray dulled with the weight of the millennia piled upon it, this one was black, though calling this color black was like calling a supernova merely bright. This was a black that went beyond simply non-reflective, to something that seemed to devour any light that touched it. There was, even now with the mechanical body still truly dead, an almost palpable aura of menace around the thing. The Lord finished its inspection and turned away, satisfied. The God did as it willed. Whatever this new creation was it would be revealed in good time. Until then however the Lord had duties to perform. Throughout the ship lesser creatures, pure mechanicals that did not possess the spark of unlife that true Necrons bore scuttled through air vents and crawlspaces. They had already scoured the ship once, locating and apprehending the living crew of the ship and gathering them in the storage hold. Now they probed the ship, searching for proper materials for their silent masters. They moved through their work with the single-minded purposefulness of ants serving their queen, never heeding the way the lights flickered and eventually went out.

Deep within the core of the ship the C’tan gorged, its sanity momentarily lost in a surge of taste and flavor. The energy it was consuming really wasn’t all that much better than what he could have leeched from the system’s primary, though whatever method was used to generate it did add a unique something extra. However even the blandest food can taste of ambrosia to a starving man, and the C’tan had gone hungry far longer than any man could have. It would be hours yet before the star god regained sufficient composure to return to its machinations, but in time it would, and it had such plans for this new place.
--

Coruscant was burning. The planetary shields had been breached and now the once great city-world was a charnel house. Arcs of what looked like green lightning struck down into the depths of the city from above like the wrath of some vengeful god. The great towers vaporized and the crust liquefied. More bolts of that eldritch energy struck down now, first dozens, then hundreds. Great crescent shaped ships cut through the black velvet of space like knives, and on the largest, topped with a massive pyramid, something unimaginably ancient was laughing…

Jos hit the floor in an undignified heap as his concentration snapped and the meditative state was violently dispelled. After a moment his eyes adjusted and he realized he was back in his quarters. He took a moment to calm himself, steadying his breathing as he tried to consider what he had just seen. A nightmare? Or was it something more? A premonition sent to him by the Force? He had finally managed to calm himself when he noticed it. A subtle charge almost running through the air, like an undercurrent of terror that pervaded the environment like nothing he’d ever sensed before. He stretched his senses out as far as he could. Even beyond the confines of the camp it was there. It was present on the pair of Acclamators floating in orbit and beyond them. Jos clambered to his feet and hurried from the room. There was something very big going down somewhere.. something that could not be allowed to occur.

The mobile command post was one of those ad-hoc affairs that only really shows up when you’re in the middle of a war. Essentially it was one of the modular SPHA walkers with its weaponry removed aside from a few jury-rigged anti-personnel turrets and a whole mess of C3 gear crammed into its fuselage. The night crew was startled out of whatever thoughts had been occupying their minds as Jos entered. The Jedi waved off the coming salutes and made straight for the central holo-tank. There he stopped and closed his eyes, letting the Force guide his search as he tried to ferret some other clue to the vision. The computer beeped and he opened his eyes. Then blinked. In the center of the holo-tank, hanging suspended there like a marble of polished and bleached bone. He looked at the datastream as the computers continued to pull up information on the planet. Min-na, ice world, dead as far as anyone knew. No resources present that couldn’t be retrieved from other worlds at a fraction of the cost. No settlements, no bases, not even a listening post. So why did looking at this world set every instinctual alarm bell he had jangling? He turned to the zabrak manning the comms console.

“Call my staff here immediately.”

--
Kolto Gunray cowered against the bulkhead as he stared into the nemoidian face. It was not the face itself that frightened him so. It was the hunched mechanical atrocity that was wearing it that frightened him. The droids had killed several of the bridge crew already. Others had been taken off to some unknown fate and never returned, all but one anyway who had returned a gibbering wreck who had continued to babble nonsense as the blade-fingered droid had skinned him alive. It hadn’t bothered beyond that. The flayed corpse still lay there on the deck, the life having long since flowed out of it. Kolto started as the door opened.. and then made a spirited attempt to push himself backward through the bulkhead as he caught sight of what had come through. It was deep metallic-green, and it moved in a manner that was thoroughly unpleasant to look at in a gait that somehow managed to combine a cat-like grace with a shamble. There was something else to, something about its skin. It was almost like it wasn’t solid at all, but rather fluid and in a constant whirl of coriolis movements almost but not quite hidden by the homogeneity of its ‘skin’. It reached out with a deliberate control that left little doubt in the nemoidian’s mind that it could kill him any time it pleased and lifted him by the throat. He tried looking it in the eye. He failed as he quickly looked away, avoiding the furnace-like stare of the C’tan. It took a moment to size him up before speaking, to his shock, in Basic.

“Live or Die. Make your choice.”

--

He didn’t entirely like the look his commanders were giving him. Of course he didn’t entirely like what he’d had to say to them. It felt too much like abusing his position, though technically it was well within his rights as commander.

“With all due respect sir, what do you mean you’re leaving?” This from Lemoy Kirden, third in the chain of command and the one who was going to be left in charge when he departed and had every right to be somewhat miffed by what was happening.

“Just what I said Lemoy. I had a vision recently, one I firmly believe was a warning of things to come and as best I can tell it has something to do with the planet of Min-Na. The situation here is well in hand and you and your staff are more than capable of cleaning out the remaining Separatist forces. To that end I am taking the Liberator and its remaining troop compliment to this world along with my padawan. We will investigate, and if all is well we will return with all possible speed.”

“But sir that cuts our forces here down by half.”

“More like one-third. The troops from the Liberator have taken a heavier number of casualties than the load from the Peacemaker, and I’ll be leaving the second ship here with you. Even with that many troops gone though you shouldn’t have any problem clearing out what’s left of the CIS forces. We’ve battered them far more heavily than they’ve battered us and we have total air and space superiority. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you had cleaned everything up by the time we got back.” The other human just sighed and nodded.

“You’re right of course sir, I just don’t like splitting my forces. Too many commanders have had bad things happen to their armies because they’ve done that.”

“I know Lemoy, but in this case I fear what may happen if we don’t split our forces could be much worse than even a total loss here.”

“Understood sir. When are you leaving?”

“I’ll be departing for Min-Na as soon as Kaleb gets here and the last of the troops are loaded. In the meantime commander I have sent an update to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant appraising them of the situation and seeing if additional troops can’t be moved in here to make up for the loss of manpower. In the meantime though your orders are to continue operations here and to eliminate the remaining separatist resistance on-planet.”

“Yes General. We’ll have this all wrapped up by the time you get back.”

Jos could sense the lie behind the bravado.. but he appreciated the effort anway.

Looks good. The C'Tan is enjoing itself, and when it finally is full, it walks down to the Neimoidians, and offers them a choice.

I wonder what other Jedi might have received the vision as well, or are they being blinded by the Dark Side? I wonder if the Dark Side got a similar vision?

So both forces could arrive over Min-Na, and start opening fire upon each other, while the C'Tan orders its forces to wait, until both sides have been too badly weakened. After that, it 'announces' itself to the Jedi.

Or, it builds a few Pylons, and lets the jedi onto the planet. When they are all down, it activates the Pylons, and the Force powers get weakened (or lost). Hopefully some will sense the trouble, and order the Acclamators to destroy the Pylons, while the others below get slaughtered.

Or, it gets away, and some factory world gets a new set of plans.

Just on a side note, after a thoroughly lazy holiday season, I've resumed work on part 4. That is all, return to your homes.

Very nice writing, with a great potential.

Could anyone point me to some more details about the Necron universe? As I don't know anything about it.

Comosicus wrote:Very nice writing, with a great potential.

Could anyone point me to some more details about the Necron universe? As I don't know anything about it.

The Necrons are one of the races in the Warhammer 40,000 universe.

There's some free information at www.games-workshop.com and I'm sure if you run a search of the Archive boards you'll find a good deal of info as well.

Comosicus wrote:Could anyone point me to some more details about the Necron universe? As I don't know anything about it.

Essentially, to summerise, the necrons are the ruins of a once great civilisation called the Necrontyr, enslaved by evil (or rather, insensative) Star-Gods. They're the only faction in Warhammer 40,000 whose technology is more advanced than the Empire's.

The Games Workshop section on the Necrons.

Its ok but you seem to have written your self into a small corner . Necron ships though powerful are nowhere near strong enough to take most SW ships, the 40K empire destroys them with multi-megaton weaponry. (It is a strange recuring theme for 40K fanfic writers to ascribe gigaton level weapons when the creators and official novels describe a 400 megaton missile as 'heavy' weaponry for ship to ship combat.) In the SW galaxy Necrons have the advantage in ground combat, in space they're toast.

Setesh wrote:Its ok but you seem to have written your self into a small corner . Necron ships though powerful are nowhere near strong enough to take most SW ships, the 40K empire destroys them with multi-megaton weaponry. (It is a strange recuring theme for 40K fanfic writers to ascribe gigaton level weapons when the creators and official novels describe a 400 megaton missile as 'heavy' weaponry for ship to ship combat.) In the SW galaxy Necrons have the advantage in ground combat, in space they're toast.

I really want to know where that comes from, since the only number I've ever heard for 40K antiship weapons is 610GT torpedoes.

[EDIT]And besides, the ships the Imperium fights are essentially Necron farm equipment.[/EDIT]

Setesh wrote:Its ok but you seem to have written your self into a small corner . Necron ships though powerful are nowhere near strong enough to take most SW ships, the 40K empire destroys them with multi-megaton weaponry. (It is a strange recuring theme for 40K fanfic writers to ascribe gigaton level weapons when the creators and official novels describe a 400 megaton missile as 'heavy' weaponry for ship to ship combat.) In the SW galaxy Necrons have the advantage in ground combat, in space they're toast.

Missiles are part of "weapons batteries" in BFG.

Weapons batteries consist of thousands of a given weapon form.

1000 400 Mt missiles is gigaton range no?

The Necrons also have the advantages of vastly superior FTL speed, superior stealth technology, shield penetrating weapons (IIRC) and a higher standard range of engagement.

Black Admiral wrote:

Setesh wrote:Its ok but you seem to have written your self into a small corner . Necron ships though powerful are nowhere near strong enough to take most SW ships, the 40K empire destroys them with multi-megaton weaponry. (It is a strange recuring theme for 40K fanfic writers to ascribe gigaton level weapons when the creators and official novels describe a 400 megaton missile as 'heavy' weaponry for ship to ship combat.) In the SW galaxy Necrons have the advantage in ground combat, in space they're toast.

I really want to know where that comes from, since the only number I've ever heard for 40K antiship weapons is 610GT torpedoes.

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

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

Setesh wrote: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 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?

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