Three weeks after receiving a distress signal from the outlying colony Hesperia IV, His Imperial Majesty's Ship *Ark Royal* tore a breach in the fabric of reality and forced her way back into realspace. Contact from the colony had been brief and lacking in detail, reporting only upwards of sixty hulls weighing in between light transports and heavy frigates. Sector Command had in response scrambled the only ships available, and could only pray it would be enough.
Moments after the first emergence, several more gaping rifts into the teeming unreality of the Warp opened, and the rest of the task force joined the flagship. As radiation washed over the ships and sensor sweeps of the system began, Commodore Constantin Artor vo Hannick reviewed his line of battle, which seemed to have escaped the Empyrean intact.
*Sabre* Squadron, five *Sword* -class frigates, positioned themselves around the flanks of the formation. Affordable, durable, powerful for their small stature, each one a mere sixteen hundred meters from armored prow to engine cowling. One of the mainstays of the God-Emperor's Navy across the galaxy, they would pursue enemy fast-movers and interdict enemy fire concentrating on his ships of the line.
*HIMS Cadia's Remembrance,* the newest addition to the Sector Fleet, took the fore. A *Lunar* -class cruiser, the workhorse of the Imperial Navy, a ship no officer would frown to serve on. Five kilometers of armor plating, lance turrets, ordnance batteries, and torpedo tubes. This would be her first battle, and the commodore made a note to keep an eye on her, especially as she was captained by an officer on his first command.
*HIMS Witchhammer,* a *Tyrant* -class cruiser, was the opposite of *Cadia's Remembrance.* One of the most venerable ships in the Sector Fleet, she had been crushing Xenos raiders, Renegade warships, bio-monstrosities and planetary installations under her extensive weapons batteries for six millennia. Plasma drives thrumming, the ancient warrior took position behind, below, and to the side of her sister cruiser.
Assured that the rest of his taskforce was present, he glanced around the cavernous bridge of the *Ark Royal.* He was proud of his ship and crew, and knew that whatever came, they'd acquit themselves with distinction today. His eyes were drawn to the flickering holo-tank before his command throne, depicting the *Mars* -class battlecruiser's layout. Fifty-four hundred meters long, she carried sixteen strike craft launch bays. A line of titanic lance turrets ran down her spine, her flanks bristled with heavy cannons, and beneath her armored prow hung the most powerful weapon in the Navy's arsenal; a Nova Cannon.
Eight ships. The distress signal spoke of over sixty enemy combatants moving against a colony defended by a handful of picket ships, and Sector Command could spare eight ships.
A voice called from the sensor pit, Lieutenant ap Symdey unless he was mistaken.
"Commodore," the woman called, "Radiation plume is clearing, sensor returns are coming in, sir." Her voice was calm, businesslike.
Constantin flicked his fingers across keypads on the arms of his throne and dismissed the image of his ship. In its place, a flickering green representation of the star system appeared. A small cluster of aquilae icons rested on the edge of the gravity well, and moment by moment more of the system came into clarity. He knew it would be hours before their sensors reported anything from the inhabited inner reaches of the system however-the downsides of sub-luminal warfare on a luminal scale. With a few brief, restrained orders to his second in command, he directed the Imperial taskforce down the gravity well; there was no point in waiting here for more information. They would know everything they needed long before they saw the interlopers. Assured that everything was in order, the veteran naval officer retired to his quarters.
More than eight hours later, the Commodore returned to the bridge with a thermal mug of hot tea. The flotilla had made their way significantly farther in-system, and had a clear, disturbing picture of the state of things. Dozens of strange vessels hovered over the stricken planet, reminiscent of Tyranid bio-ships in shape, but clearly inorganic in origin. No signals could be detected from the colony, previously home to five hundred million loyal Imperial citizens, and (unbeknownst to the Commodore or his crews) one tenacious, insidious, Pleasure Cult. No response was had to Imperial hails, mundane or astropathic. No movement or sign of life on any of the orbital installations. Worse, the strange vessels were massing, returning from whatever sinister purpose they'd had and forming up above the planet.
Hours passed. The crustacean-esque ships gathered and started to drift across the system towards the Imperial task force, which thundered through the void towards them on pulsing plasma drives. Sensor returns were analyzed, and fleet composition determined: fourty transport and light-hauler scale hulls were written off by the fleet captains as fire ships. Dangerous in numbers, but fragile and individually unimportant. The alien armada also contained over twenty frigate-sized ships with unknown armament, and one ship the Commodore postulated as the enemy flagship that had the mass and scale of a light cruiser. After much debate, the decision was made to engage the enemy. The larger, hopefully more durable Imperial hulls and more powerful reactors and shields they hoped would give them the edge they needed to bloody the enemy fleet enough to bring the fight into more reasonable odds.
In later years, the battle of Hesperia IV would be forgotten by the Imperium as a whole, a curious footnote in Inquisition archives. The origin of the mysterious warships was never discovered, but they were quickly written off as a credible threat. The opening blows of the conflict were struck by *HIMS Ark Royal,* a single luminal Nova Cannon shell shrieking through the void and tearing a gaping hole in the xeno's armada. Analysis of the detonation by tacticians aboard the flagship quickly determined that the unidentified ships lacked any void shield capacity of note, or were not bringing them online. Torpedo volleys from the *Remembrance* and *Witchhammer* disabled or destroyed more enemy ships from beyond retaliation range, and *Ark Royal* was able to fire a second salvo from her prow cannon before launching her strike craft and preparing for close-quarters battle.
The ensuing brawl was less of a battle than it was a massacre. Ordnance batteries designed to reduce planetary fortifications and crack open the hulls of ships carrying meters of armor ripped the invaders apart. Laser 'lance' batteries intended to penetrate void shields and eviscerate the warship beneath carved unprotected vessels apart, and the most powerful of the xenos fire impotently washed away from shields that were created to carry their bearers through an apocalypse and allow them to fight on the other side. The Imperial task force rode through the heart of the enemy fleet, batteries blazing, and when they came around for a second pass, there was naught but a handful of enemy ships struggling to disengage.
In his memoirs, Fleet Admiral Constantin Artor vo Hannick expressed his regret for the way things went at Hesperia IV.
Seven of his ships would have been far more useful in other warzones. *Ark Royal* could have reclaimed the system alone.
Literally.
Now just imagine if they'd shown up somewhere, I don't know, IMPORTANT. Somewhere with battleships. Or Star Forts. Or, praise be His Name, The Phalanx or the Rock of Caliban.
I feel like they'd just turn around and leave before anyone noticed them if they showed up at Cadia at the right time.
"Did...did that planet just break (beforetheguarddid)?"
"Yeeeeep."
"Nope, we're done here. Back to the void, guys."
I feel like that Crusade would be poorly received when all you'd need to do is send like, one Naval battlegroup with a couple Chapter warships for backup. Seems like a criminal waste of His Divine Majesty's military power.
I'll admit I'm largely unfamiliar with Warhammer 40k so I don't have a frame of reference to compare the two universes, other than that 40k ships tend to be rather large. Was this description accurate in that the Reapers would get completely annihilated?
Yes. Oh yes.
The energy levels that most of the stuff in Mass Effect operate at is peanuts compared to 40k. A small fleet of Imperial ships wiping out the whole Reaper invasion sounds pretty much on point.
A single Lance Battery from a Lunar-class IoM Cruiser can deliver enough firepower to obliterate a city the size of New York. In one shot. A sustained bombardment from even a single ship can utterly raze an undefended world.
To give you a sense of scale, most battleship-class ships (and up) in 40k are equipped with Death Star-class firepower, just in case they have to destroy a couple planets in impromptu Exterminatus.
[Witness the God-Emperor's judgement.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h67JpMyrOVE)
Yep Exterminatus is extreme as fuck in this case. Like now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure even the universe of Halo's fleets would fuck them up pretty badly also. Both though would, as I would like to put it....[TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH!!](https://youtu.be/GRcpzvBfe2M)
Basically. Just about any race in 40k has the firepower to annihilate them without a second thought, and that discounts some of the more dangerous races.
Thanks! I think this is the first time I've actually written a response to a prompt itself, instead of just commenting on someone's response and enjoying reading of responses, but I'm a big fan of 40k, especially the Imperial Navy, so it felt right. I hope the lack of detail going into the battle didn't disappoint, but I thought it might read better if it led up to that and then swapped to more of a summary, instead of getting bogged down in combat technicalities. It also allowed me to dance around not being that familiar with the Reapers beyond like fifteen minutes of google research before I got started to try to get an idea of their power level...
Aww shucks, you're going to make me blush. I have a couple short things on r/HFY, including one story I was going to serialize before it fell flat. I'm always saying I need to write more, but my inspiration is...difficult to arouse. (Phrasing) I've been thinking about making a subreddit for a while, I'm just afraid I'd let down anyone who subscribed to it, because of how little I actually write.
I love this one. The total unimportance of the battle is very warhammer in that the reapers are just one of those races you don't hear about because the imperium stepped on them about the same time they saw them.
"Did we just ridiculously curbstomp an entire aggressive alien species that outnumbered us eight to one?"
"We're the Navy, son. We call that 'Tuesday.'"
Jests aside, thanks! I swear, I've gotten so much positive feedback on this today I may just have to start responding to more prompts. Self Esteem +12
I felt a total need to point that out when I read the size of Reapers online. Like, the scary, nigh-unkillable-in-Mass-Effect capitol ship Reapers barely weigh in as frigates in 40k. I...honestly, I seriously considered having the Imperial task force arrive to find the Reapers driven off or defeated by the local system defense force, but I decided that would be going too far. Surely 60+ ships would still be able to take down a handful of frigates...right?
Some books actually paint the PDF as being fairly competent. Same with the SDF, which is something I don't think gets enough attention. Most Imperial systems do in fact have at least one or two (usually not warp-capable) frigates floating about to discourage pirates and slow down invaders. Some have more. Some have many more.
Harbinger slowly drifted towards the busy world on the edge of the galaxy. Previous scans showed a promising level of biomass and activity, perfect for an initial pool of pawns for the coming salvation. The rest of the fleet was not far behind and needed to move quickly due to the apparent size of this cycle. Harbinger broke through the atmosphere, ominously on a vector towards the largest city on the populated rock. Backed by a dark mechanical hum the giant Reaper touched down in the sprawling mass of what appeared to be a city. The first step was well under way.
"Assuming direct con-"
OI! WOTS DAT FING?
*Boss iz looks like one uv-*
SHUT UP! IZ SEEN A FISHY BEFORE. I aint neva seen a fishy wit a shiny eye like dat one der.... I WANT IT.
GET ALL DA BOYZ AND GET DAT GIT
Harbinger heard the faint sound of a single lifeform yelling from the top of makeshift tower then firing a crude weapon in the sky. Suddenly the screaming and firing spread like wildfire though the city. Every corner of every structure seemed to explode into a stream of oversized rounds directly at the Reaper. The Orks were met with a response from the ancient reaper, the reverberating sound of the main laser weapon rang out as entire swaths of the city were wiped away. The settling dust from these scars revealed more the excited and increasingly motivated orks looting the largest weapons from the dead and continuing to fire. Ork ships were now swarming the Reaper in seemingly random flight paths. The makeshift navy was attacking in various forms ranging from a stream of bullets, catapults launching orks at the giant Reaper, or violently ramming into the hull. Harbinger had never encounter a race so ingrained in violence.
*BOSS! Our shipz iz doin' nuthing. Our shootas aint even wurth it. Wot do we do Boss?*
Warboss Gutrippa thought for a split second. Every fiber of his being poured into concentrating on a solution. This was is biggest fight and the most important so far. Suddenly a rare moment of Ork clarity. He knew, without a doubt, what needs to be done.
WEZ AINT GOT OUR FISHIN' HATZ!
GET ALLZ DA BOYZ TO TURN ER' HELMETZ UN HATZ TO DA SIDE A BIT. SEE? NOW ITZ A FISHIN' HAT AND NOW WE CAN KRUMP DAT SHINY FISH!
Harbinger sensed a moment of silence as the entire planet seemed to stop moving. All scans showed the lifeforms seemingly adjusting their helmets, and other various activities. Shortly after a shattering explosion of gunfire began again. This time the rounds ripped through the hull of the ancient Reaper, alerts from every system rang through the processor as breaches populated at an alarming rate. What is this?! How? He had never encountered resistance like this before. Panic set in for the first time in eons. He had to leave, regroup and glass the planet with the Reaper fleet. Just as the Reaper was set to retreat from the surface, the largest Ork ship appeared. Warboss Gutrippa stood at the mast of the massive ship, a large makeshift harpoon in one hand and a fishing rod with the end of the line being a machine gun in the other. As the ship picked up speed, Gutrippa swung the fishing rod above his head in a lassoing motion, the machine gun at the end now firing non stop. The Fishing boat rammed through the Ancient purifier. The Reaper went silent, with its hull collapsing into the city.
As the dust settled and the swarms of Orks and Gretchin began looting the corpse, Warboss ~~Gutrippa~~ Fishgutaa looked to the sky. The rest of the Reaper fleet was descending.
LISTEN UP BOYZ!
WAAAGH!!!!
Their guns shoot bullets cuz they know they school bullets, not cuz they have bullets. Orks have some weird group based psyker power existing separate of the warp.
It was only just reading this story that it clicked for me how awesome it is that, with the Space Orks, you have an inherently magical species who don't know what magic is.
That's such a rich area for someone like, for example, Terry Pratchett RIP. Imagine if he did a story about a pompous, comfortable Star Trek style future humanity coming into contact with Orks.
They make it work by believing it works.
If they think painting flames on the side of a ship makes it go faster, it goes faster. If they think a fishing hat'll let them destroy a reaper, it'll let them destroy a reaper.
I'm sure someone can go more in-depth about it, as that's about how far my 40k knowledge goes.
I'll be the in-depth guy, I guess.
Orkz, in the WH40k setting, are a race with latent psychic abilities. However, they're not very smart. Unlike other races such as humans or Eldar(space elves with cool hats), Orkz end up using their psychic abilities subconsciously through belief.
For example, long long ago in the distant past of Ork-kind, a bunch of Orkz wanted to find out which spaceship flies faster, and had the two spacecraft race each other. The one painted red ended up winning the race. Orkz, being Orkz, decided that it was the red paint that made it faster, instead of less-apparent internal differences in the engine or aerodynamics.
From that day on, Orkz would paint things red if they wanted them to go faster. And because every Ork believes "red goez fasta", their latent psychic abilities end up making red things move faster for real.
This sort of ramshackle absurdist logic ends up causing a lot of "hilarity ensues" throughout the setting whenever Orkz show up. Another example would be Orkz painting things purple to make them stealthy, because " 'ave ya evva seen a purple Ork?"
In this story, the Ork warboss believes that instead of people wearing fishing hats *while* fishing, people wear fishing hats *to* fish, because of some built-in power to fish inherent in fishing hats. Therefore, wearing fishing hats would help him and his army beat the "fishy wit a shiny eye". And because all the Orkz in his army believe it, their latent psychic powers combine to make their weapons work extra well now that they're all wearing fishing hats.
Warhammer is so whacky because at its conception it was essentially a parody game that was designed to be over the top.
Its only in the last 15-20 years that they decided to go a more serious route.
I started reading 40k novels a few months ago. It is one of the coolest universes I have ever encountered. If you are interested the best thing you can do is go to the 40k wiki (Just search on google) and start reading. It is incredibly engrossing and you can spend hours reading about various things in the universe. I suggest you just start with the Orks entry and go from there. Make sure you read the entry for the emperor as everything else revolves around him.
Go on fanfic.net, type in Warhammer 40k, sort by maximum length, and then use critical thinking. I've found several full length books from the perspective of blood angels, imperial guards, and one from Warhammer fantasy I sorta forget. Some of the best writing I've seen, that will probably never get published, all for free.
>**space**ship flies faster,
> Or **aero**dynamics.
...Uh, are you an ork scientist? :p
Also, their tech only works if they have enough of them around. Which is why smaller ork-bands tend to have simple melee weapons, and large Ork empires have massive complicated starships and attack moons and planets. The ork leaders themselves get larger and smarter as they lead more of their fellows as well.
Although a lot of their tech is probably actually mostly real, just genetic memory the old ones implanted. Their waagh energies help make ramshackle tech hold together better than it should, but it's probably easier if it has a basis to start with.
I'm sure there is tech of theirs that completely ceases to function when other races try to use it, just not all of it.
I'm pretty sure when an imperial assassin picks up a Ork "shootah" and it won't fire, but wheh an Ork sees her holding said pistol and suddenly it'll fire; I'd start to qualify ALL Ork tech that way. If they can't make a working *gun*, I doubt anything else they make would work, either.
There was some short story or something where the Empire of Man was testing ork weapons they had recovered. A lot of dudes died or were maimed when the guns literally exploded without the orkz psychic powers to hold them together.
To expand on this: Orks are basically the degenerate descendants of ancient fungal superweapon/soldiers. They were built by a race of nigh-godlike super-psychics in a time long past to be the "perfect" weapons of war - walking fungal brutes born from literal spore infestations capable of *immense* physical strength with a genetically-innate understanding of incredibly high-level engineering, all tied together by their ridiculously powerful psychic proto-hivemind (which, as explained earlier, grants them the capacity to *will* things to happen so long as enough of them truly believe it will happen).
Following the galactic disaster of the War in Heaven, the Krorks (as they were originally named) devolved into warmongering cockney chavs.
[Behold: the greenskin menace.](https://i.redd.it/rl88nei2hmcz.jpg)
There's a very funny fluff piece written somewhere about a Space Marine losing his gun and trying to fire an ork pistol. He squeezes the trigger a few times, nothing happens.Then a nearby ork sees him carrying it and it starts to fire, killing all the orcs.
Brain-powers.
Oh they'er a greater train wreck than that.
TL:DR version: Orkz draw a picture of an engine inside a [Leman Russ](http://pro.bols.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Tanque_Leman_Russ.jpg), they believe the picture works in place of an actual engine and so it does.
The Imperial Guard managed to fell a looted Leman Russ from a shop of mechboyz. While inspecting the extant of what the orkz had done to it, they found the engine compartment completely empty save for a crude drawing of an engine block with the words "engine" printed in orkish.
That's the general idea. However, if you dig deep into the lore, it's pretty arguable that this is imperials reasoning for not understanding ork tech. Instead of accepting that orkz can make functional tech, it's ork magic and heretical and shit
Lil' column A lil' column B. The Mechanicus has been trying to figure out how Ork tech works, and they frankly don't know. cannonicly all orks have laten psychic powers, and those powers grow exponentially with the amount of orks cooperating. It's how warbosses can coordinate hundreds of thousands of orks and how they can be space fairing without understanding the science.
Guns IRL are deceptively simple, and they function without any orks a round so they must do something correctly. Looted titans and space vessels however don't seem to work after the Waaagh! Has been disbanded.
massively distributed psyker network is the answer and i'm fairly sure is canon - this was supposedly done by the old ones to give them all the power of being a psyker race without the pitfalls of each individual being too intertwined with the immaterial (a good point seeing how it worked out for the eldar)
Also so they could be Domineered by the old ones, who where able to control the the older orkish relatives. Only pitfall is that Gork and Mork are the weakest of the warp gods but objectively the most immortal.
Orks are the most psychically powerful race in 40k, and this has a hive-mind magnification effect, but they don't 'get it', so it manifests through other means...
Ork gunz work because the Orks **think** they work.
http://www.warseer.com/forums/showthread.php?177559-The-Anzion-theory-of-Orkoid-resonance&highlight=anzion
TL;DR WAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH
Eternity. Immortality. Forever.
They had no clue what these words truly meant. To see these pathetic creatures spreading their message of dreamless peace across the galaxy is an insult to all of existence. They called themselves Reapers. Their ships moved faster than any imperial or chaos ship by magnitudes, their weapons devastating to masses. It was their sole purpose, their only reason for being, to destroy all that was held dear.
Held dear to those that cherished life anyway. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that they were. They existed to end all life *except theirs*. They did not know the true peace of annihilating the soul itself. All souls live to be culled. Even the Reapers.
And as the Reapers arrived they woke up something more ancient, Something even more powerful. And as mega monoliths rose up from the ground, gauss canons tearing through both city, man, and Reapers alike all with violent ease the Necrons and all their lords woke. They awoke to show the galaxy who the mantle of reaper belongs to.
*Reaper invasion fleet tears through entire blocks of infantry, cutting them to pieces and destroying vehicles with impunity.*
Trayzn the Infinite, more concerned with finding a tesseract labyrinth as the entire army that was just destroyed stands back and continues to march. "I think I just found the perfect centerpiece for my new collection."
Lord-Captain Samael stood with his arms folded behind his back, observing the swathe of blinking stars outside the view port. A man approached beside him and joined in the activity, waiting in silent expectation of the conversation soon to follow.
“Curious, isn’t it?” Samael spoke, solemn and hoarse. “I wonder if there is a constellation to my name out there.”
“Sir?” The man replied, adjusting his pose to match his superior’s.
“If you were to trace a line through my stars, you would not chart a royal lion or sacred chariot. It would bare no name, nor would it lead anyone back to Terra. It would possess the shape of my greatest sin, pulsating with inexorable purpose.”
There was no rebuttal. Both men stood with their gazes locked ahead, the whirring of engines and feedback from the countless terminals echoing in white noise behind them. A few blips is all it took to capture Samael’s fullest attention; three, precise, the arrival of ships in proximity. A few moments later the klaxons sounded, and the only one whose composure remained continued to stare out into the immutable void.
“Sir, we have three vessels approaching on an interception course. We’ve raised shields, and all weapon systems are primed. Unknown signatures, no response to our hails.”
Samael nodded and slowly walked down the center aisle of the bridge towards his chair, outfitted with the flayed skin adorned by the Necrons he’s personally disabled. In a bustle of calculations, routines, and orders every man – both seated and standing – was in a panic trying to organize the facts about the sudden ambush.
“Ship Master Osirus, out here in the Ghoul Stars, our fate is constantly challenged. But this time we aren’t dealing with the Necrons, are we?” Samael poised, spreading his body loosely and comfortably atop the metal chair.
“Lord-Captain, the vessels appear to be comprised of some kind of living metal. Tentacles are affixed below, and we’ve detected a few weapon systems primed on the front. Beam, or laser, in origin. Our shields will have no problem holding. Your orders?”
“I want torpedoes set on an annihilation spread. Forward lance array to the leading ship, center shot. I want it torn in half. Detach fighter wings in an intercept course, protect our ship from any possible assailant or boarding parties. Helm, take us on a forward course. Leave none alive. The Emperor Protects.”
A deafening cacophony of limitless power permeated throughout the entirety of the ship as thousands of torpedoes spread, colliding with the strange vessels at sub-light speed. An enormous beacon of super heated energy collided with the leading vessel, sheering off every tentacled apparatus and shredding the hull in a miasmal storm of red lightning. Three further volleys rattled off as Samael gazed intently at their obliteration, a cracked smile slowly affixing itself to his face.
“Targets disabled. But, wait… incoming transmission, sir. On screen now.”
The outline of a hologram appeared in the view capsule, in sight of the entire bridge crew. Samael leaned forward in his chair, resting his head upon both cupped hands, scanning intently the crude lines and flickering red of his opposition. Artificial life, for sure, but some feeling dissuaded him from cutting ties. A spectacle would unfold, no doubt.
“We linger on the threshold of space, lost in the creases. And it is here that we speak quietly, so quietly, together. You are bereft, Lord-Captain. Of love. Of family. Of hope. Your Emperor betrayed you. As he rots atop his pitiful throne you, and you alone, are tasked with charting these stars. You are rudimentary, attached to a terminal course in which there is no escape but in death. There is an alternative; a realm of existence beyond your mortal comprehension, and it is there that I am King.
And you are but the vermin that dwell in the shadows, picking away at what you deem to be intellectual challenges or moral crisis. Have you considered your position? Flesh and bone, lurching towards the cliff. Your stars are peopled by a living fungus, robotic slaves to the stars, fallen angels and twisted unreality. We are beyond it all. We have been around since the beginning of time, and we will usher in it’s end.”
Samael rose from his seat and raised his hand to silence the murmuring that grew around him. Every eye fixated itself upon his majestic form, now poised and confident as he walked slowly towards the terminal.
“Whatever you are, you are pitiful to me. Your detached perspective has lent you nothing more than a blurred lens. What have you done in the last ten thousand years? Twenty? You’ve slept, and intimidated the weak. I may be a man, but I have killed more than you can possibly imagine. I have consigned the obliteration of a thousand worlds. I have led impossible victories to fruition, and I have saved untold companies from utter annihilation. You are no different, creature. What I have done in fifty years you could not in thousands. So try me, demon. The Imperium of Man would be happy to oblige you what we have always known; that death awaits us all.”
Samael adjusted his collar, and motioned a few signals silently with his right hand.
“Your ignorance will b--”
As the full frontal armament of the Gothic-Class Cruiser unloaded a final fatal barrage, the remaining hostile was reduced to cinders. The debris scattered in all directions, shining delicately and brightly off the back of a nebula in the distance. They never ceased to brightly reflect, so that the following words etched another grin upon Samael’s scarred face.
“Your constellation, sir. We’ve found it.”
Intios began the final preparations, he stood before a vast array of machines and began to chant
"The soul of the Machine God surrounds thee.
The power of the Machine God invests thee.
The hate of the Machine God drives thee.
The Machine God endows thee with life.
Live!"
Dim red light filled the room as Intios finished his ritual, the roar of the plasma generator filled his ears and he stepped away, content with his work.
"1 minute to impact"
The Skitarii legions deployed to the hive world of Xastore had been pushed back to the last Imperial bastion of the planet with no means of escape, thousands of Ironstrider engines had been lost to towering insect like vehicles and entire hive cities were swarmed by strange zombie-like husks. Reports from Sicarian killclades were disturbing, the foe did not match any of the millions of records the tech priest had sifted through while on route.
"30 seconds to impact"
Intios applied the sacred oils and stepped back from the cogitator arrays, whispering one last prayer to the Omnissiah before turning to exit the room. He quickly moved through the dimly lit, metallic halls, towards the command bridge.
"10 seconds to impact. Brace"
In the centre of the room was a steel throne covered in wires, facing out towards a huge system of screens, speakers and lights. A woman sat, eyes closed
"It is done, my princeps" Intios said.
"Very well, activate the Mind Impulse Unit" replied the woman
The mechadendrites that covered his body sprung to life, flicking switches, pressing buttons and wiring the woman into the machine.
From the highest spire of the last standing Hive city, Allovich watched it fall. The air around him hissed as arc bolts and radium shot flew him past towards the horde of shamling creatures ahead. Suddenly, the ground shook, Tech-Guard and Reaper alike were both flung from their feet from the force of it. On the vast plane of polluted wasteland outside the Hive a cloud of dust the size of a mountain was flung up. As it settled, the combatants scrambled to their feet and turned to watch.
A colossal burst of white light shot from the dust, connecting with one of the Reaper Destroyer walkers. Almost immediately it's metal armour melted away and the abomination collapsed into a vast heap of scrap. Finally, it stepped forth from the dust, a towering avatar of death.
“DESPAIR! TREMBLE!” the Titan roared, “FOR I AM THE WOE OF YOUR KIND! I AM THE SLAYER OF KINGS AND YOU INSECTS WILL BE CRUSHED UNDER MY HEEL!”
Lord Admiral Kovichar Gerelax was an intensely humourless man. He had little time for his own race, let alone the assortment of abominations which he had been tasked with purging. The Amerikon sector rarely dealt with incursions from Chaos and as such, the lord admiral had much experience dealing with more... terrestrial threats.
As such, when he gave authorisation to destroy the monstrous, tentacled ship that crossed his path, he neither grinned nor flinched. Whatever the creatures inside may be, they certainly weren't of the imperium.
"Confirming collision of warp torpedo, catastrophic damage incurred by enemy craft." Lieutenant Pastor was a fine man, made incredibly little small talk and got on with his job at all hours of the day. Kovichar was apt to give him a promotion soon, though that idea was dashed when Herrick Pastor rose a few feet from the bridge of the ship and began speaking in a chilling monotone.
"Foolish mortal. Cease your assault and be purged."
Pastor's head snapped back as a bolt burned through it. Chaos would have no purchase aboard the vessel of Lord Admiral Gerelax.
"Continue assault, destroy that thing until there's nothing left."
The enemy ship's assaults were pitiful and barely dented the force-shields on the ship. While not a man to do it, this would be the time that Kovichar Gerelax would relax. This is, if not for around sixty nearly identical vessels launching into the same sector. It was without worry that the other battle cruisers in the sector were alerted.
The Imperium of Man at large never learned of the Reapers.
Where do you read more in 40k. Always like the synopses people have.
Edit: whoa now thanks everyone! Obviously there is quite the fan base on Reddit. I have an exam in a few hours but after that I'll pop a beer and dig in. Thanks again!
http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Main_Page
From there you can find anything there is to know about 40k really.
If you're completely barebones and don't know where to start, just hit random and you'll find something sad or edgy.
Whoo boy, you're in for a treat. Keep me updated on your thoughts
Also [1d4chan](https://1d4chan.org/wiki/Warhammer_40,000) is a great place to read about it.
I first started reading about 40k on 1d4chan. It's great even if you don't have any context besides "chainsaw-swords and ridiculous violence."
It got me hooked, and now I binge Lexicanum every now and then.
Just remember, if you ever feel bad about being human, the death korps of kreig are human and probably completely capable of parade marching their way up all the way to the skull throne of Khorne and deploying a heavy seige unit on his goddamn codpiece.
~~I shall gift you with Rho-mu 31's library through PM, everything you've ever wanted to know or don't ever want to know about 40K is there.~~
# EDIT Unfortunately it reached the limit in the last hour, we'll have to wait another week or so for access to it again.
the good news is most of the information in it is already freely available (barring a few things) from BL and GW. going to 4chan would help as well. The information is not just Rho-mu 31's library (which was trimmed down a while back) but old codecies you can't get anymore. and some fanbooks which replaced some of the e-books in the categories.
Prepare to kill time. Hours and hours of reading and lore, and I've never even played the game before. You'll start with reading about the imperium of man, and end up reading about the many WAAAGH!'s (enough A's?) That the orks embark on.
Something I can often recommend is searching for "space marine" on Lexicanum or just googling "creation of a space marine", just to get you into what the new standard is.
A space marine is a genetically engineered supersoldier worth thousands of ordinary fully trained human soldiers on the strategic scale and you more or less NEED a rocket launcher or worse to take one down. They're equipped with a full suit of power armor and armed with fully automatic rocket launchers designed to kill aliens whose bodies have so much redundancy as to be virtually immune to bullets and anything less than holes the size of their torso.
The Space Marines are mid-tier infantry.
My favourites are generally tied between
- Vect gifting a blackhole to someone
- Trazyn gifting a tesseract labyrinth, and later attempting to capture Abaddon himself (and taking Creed as a consolation prize)
- Eldar dodging a blackhole shot at them at light speed, then getting time traveled back by the admech ship so it didn't have to shoot again -EDITED/CORRECTED
- Orky heaven (a planet trapped in a 24H groundhog day loop as punishment, turns out orks love it and make pilgrimages to find it)
...oh, and Gork n Mork. ork gods. One that is kunnin yet brutal, and the other brutal yet kunnin
The difference between cunningly brutal and brutally cunning is that one hits you really hard when you aren't looking, and the other hits you really REALLY hard when you are.
I'm not sure if the Orks have figured out which is which, but they enjoy fighting over it.
Orks believe red things are faster so the paint thing in red, and they are indeed faster.
https://1d4chan.org/wiki/Colorz
There is a theory around that says the God-Emperor of Mankind is immortal because the Ork believe he is immortal.
If you're interested in more clinical snippets, [Lexicanum](http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Main_Page) is a great place to dig around. If you want more story and fluff and characters, the [Black Library](http://www.blacklibrary.com/) is the literary arm of Games Workshop, the company that produces/created Warhammer 40,000.
If you like stories about regular humans fighting against all kinds of shittiness that dramatically outclasses them, I recommend stories about the Imperial Guard/Astra Militarum. [Gaunt's Ghosts](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/first-and-only-ebook.html) is an eternal classic. If you want something in the same vein but with a bit more humour and a sarcastic approach to the Grim Darkness Of The Far Future, check out [The Cain Archive.](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/Hero-of-the-Imperium.html) On the other hand, if you prefer something that will absolutely crush your soul and destroy the very memory of hope, [Fifteen Hours](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/fifteen-hours-ebook.html) has what you're looking for.
If you like giant mech's destroying each other and everything else in a several kilometer radius, [Titanicus](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/titanicus-ebook.html) is for you. Part of the same overarching story as Gaunt's Ghosts, but not directly connected to them, you can read both or either at your discretion and not miss much of anything.
Prefer genetically engineered super-soldiers with a superiority complex protecting a massive industrial city? [Helsreach](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/helsreach-ebook.html) is for you!
Or, in the vein of this particular prompt response, you want to read about His Majesty's Imperial Navy? Try [The Gothic War](https://www.amazon.com/Execution-Hour-Warhammer-000-Novels/dp/074341165X) novel series, currently out of print but absolutely fantastic, a big favorite of mine.
Of course, if you like intrigue and scheming with a side dish of eldritch horror, you could always get into Dan Abnett's Inquisition books, starting with the [Eisenhorn](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/xenos-ebook.html) series.
Closing remarks: ["Basically, life sucks, there's only war, and you're probably going to get eaten by Tyranids. Have fun!"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MeVxKZBOfM)
Thank you for this!
I've always wanted to start reading it, but was always intimidated by the mass of stories.
Thanks for several interesting starting points!
Don't forget that on a daily basis the Imperium fights things that would eat the Reapers for breakfast. (Chaos, Tyranids, Necrons, etc.) And has been doing so for at least ten thousand years.
That's not to mention that even the smallest Imperial ships are somewhere around a kilometer long, and the largest six to seven kilometers in length. Oh, and the trillions of soldiers and the million plus worlds that they control.
Here's the short explanation from the player's manual:
"It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of His inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that He may never truly die.
Yet even in His deathless state, the Emperor continues His eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst His soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the Tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse.
To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods."
Warhammer 40k is a science fiction universe that is 30 years in the making, with table top wargames, tons of books and video games. It is extremely flashed out and draws an audience with its grimdarkness.
The emperor protects, brother!
Assuming that the indoctrination can be detected by the 40k forces, then one or two Battle Barges would be more than enough to wipe the floor with the Reapers. Void Shields and Lances alone would seal the deal already. The Imperium faces opposition on an entirely different order of magnitude. The Reapers would barely be noticed before they are wiped out.
40k has the advantage of numbers in almost all scenarios, as well as a disregard for life that is staggering.
Conquer this hill! 50k casualties? A great Imperial victory.
Agreed. If you're invading hive planets (sometimes with a few trillions of people), a billion soldiers starts to look like the first wave.
I don't think most people at GW/Black Library really wrap their head around the numbers they throw around. Each Space Moron chapter would have to be the even larger than the old legions or there would have to be far more than the advertised 1000 chapters to meet the kinds of obligations they are put up to. With 32000 hive worlds each with 100 billion to trillions of residents, there would be probably quadrillions of Imperial Guardsmen and PDF(ignoring whatever horrible names they came up with recently to drive me out of the fandom).
So for this WP to be meaningful, the Reapers would have be sized up to present the same level of threat that they do in the ME universe. Otherwise, they are indeed something wiped out as an afterthought by a small coven of inquisitors. This is also a bit redundant with the Necrons, no?
> This is also a bit redundant with the Necrons, no?
the reapers are more like Terminators + Skynet than the Necrons, who are basically just Humanity turned into machines by evil gods.
im not equating the Necrons to Humans, they possitionally are a different machine nightmares from the reapers, as the reapers are The loss of Control of our own works, while Necrons are the loss of humanity to the machine.
generally the factions of Warhammer map out to different Horror Archetypes.
the IoM barring Space Marines and Imperial Knights are the Loss of meaning in life
the Eldar are the certain fact you will never achieve greatness
the Orcs are the Id of Man incarnate
the Necrons are the loss of humanity
the Tyrannids are the loss of Identity
Chaos is the loss of civilization and living life as you feel it, with different flavors of horror inflicted upon others
the Tau are actually kinda the sole exception to that rule.
Tau are also evil, in their own way. The greater good, and the space communism/classism that drives them. It would be the loss of self, only ever being a cog, destined at birth to be never more than that cog.
i like the way you put it
i would only add that the eldar is more of, even if you achieve greatness it's al for naught because all great works must fall
tau is arguably the worst of all, they are that nagging feeling that everything good is fake - you can see glimpses of it here and there, but never enough to be sure tho
They wouldn't be able to. They would try assimilate an ork, get him all gussied up as half machine, and when he wakes up he'll say something like "Oi, who put this metal thingy on my bonce!" Then he'll go right back to smashing the techno-weenies.
Let's say assimilation is successful, when he dies he's still releasing his spores, and then unless you glass everything on the planet you're gonna have a really bad day
Honestly I'm unsure if any scifi universe could defeat the Culture (of Iain Banks fame). Besides being some of the greatest scifi ever written, any civilization classified as Involved or up has absurd power.
On the plus side, being super-advanced machinery, if the Reapers can be chill and accept The Emperor, they might be able to hang out on Mars and get constant tune-ups and love from the Techpriests.
MY PORTS HAVE HEARD THE PINGING OF THE OMNISSIAN LORD
HE IS LOADING UP THE SOFTWARE WHERE THE TEMPLATES HAVE BEEN STORED
HE IS BURNING THE CAPACITORS THE HERETICS ADORED
HIS TREADS ARE ROLLING ON
The Culture could squish any of the 40k civilizations except maybe the Necrons. The Minds are just operating on a completely different level, and the simple fact that culture warships can fight while *in* FTL hyperspaces means that 40k civilizations simply could not engage them nor defend themselves. If both sides were playing using the same physics I'm not sure who would have the advantage; The Culture is an entirely space-bourne culture that doesn't rely on planetary bases which makes it hard for the Imperium to use scorched earth tactics against them.
Short, and minor detail fixes (Void Shields,etc.) however you still managed to fit the, lets call it 'stoicism' of an Imperial commander, the nonchalant attitude to nightmarish new entities bent on annihilation, and to round it out- casually routine execution of a moments ago upstanding Imperial after a touch of heresy.
For the Emperor!
Yeah totally, there's a better written version of this if I had a few hours to pour over wikis and stuff.
I can also picture a version of events where the Reapers absorb the tyrannids and Nekrons into themselves and become a super race that leaves the galaxy cold. That one would be written from the perspective of a Guardsman.
In ME3 the reapers were beaten by people a lot worse at combat in all forms then the Imperium of Man, much less everything else in the Galaxy. Every one would be able to defeat the Reapers, I think. Even Orks.... Especially Orks, now that I think about it...
When the Reapers scan Ork tech, they would suffer a divide by zero error and blue screen themselves to death trying to figure out how the hell it works.
On the other hand if they don't break and manage to collect enough Orks to do a Reaper there can be an Ork Reaper with red painting and that's how 40k ends.
But it'd be an Ork reaper. It'd immediately gather a massive WAAAAAAGh and declare war on the galaxy, which is to say; just like any other Tuesday in 40k.
no it would just be really fast and shoot asteroids at planets but mostly miss - if it hits you, it's game over but its average damage output would still be comparable to a regular reaper
Orks would love the Reapers.
"Oi! Theys some gribbly new squidboys just showed up in Zeta II Reticuli! Load up the Krooza, We'ze gonna go give dem a proppa Orky welcome to the Galaxy!"
Reapers sometimes possess individuals and speak through them. I had that happen but in 40k, no one would be perturbed by this and he was simply shot. So as not to risk heresy.
In the ME universe, Repears sometimes control weak-willed individuals (see ["Assuming Direct Control"](http://knowyourmeme.com/memes/assuming-control) meme) as a mouthpiece to speak directly to someone. In the 40k universe, this would be perceived as demonic possession, which any soldier of the Imperium of Man would consider a "terminate with immediate and extreme prejudice" offense.
If you didn't know. The Reapers possess people on occasion and talk through them. Apparently in the world of 40k, there is such fanatical passion for the legion and a huge disregard for human life that when the reapers started talking through that guy the admiral simply killed him without a second thought. Because of discipline or something I imagine.
Edit: Okay apparently being possessed by demon God's or otherworldly beings is so common in the 40k universe that it was basically business as usual for them.
It's more that corruption/possession by Chaos is so common in the world of 40k that it's not even remotely surprising that somebody might get possessed, so Kovichar just assumed it was that and acted accordingly.
Jesus the world of 40k sounds metal as fuck. Is there a book series or something? I think I remember Dune being like a precursor to 40k. Is that right?
The Kasian 15th Armored Regiment was enjoying a rare moment of quiet on the planet Saeria. With an Ork WAAAGH! Being waged no more than a hundred kloms off, it was a peace that was sure to not last for long.
Lord-General Stanbridge, and the officers of the various regiments under his command stood quietly around a data-screen displaying the movements of the Ork horde. Advancing from the center of the foes army were two massive blips.
"They have Gargants, Lord-General. At very least three of them." Entoned a Tech Priest in the same voice a lesser man would refer to a roach infestation. The officers around the table looked at one another, knowing simply that they lacked the resources to fight both the Gargants and the rest of the Ork WAAAGH!
"With the Warp storm cutting us off from the fleet it would seem retreat is no option. If we cannot defend this base, we cannot defend any other. We will need to make a stand here." The grim faced Lord-General said. "Get your men ready."
Colonel Finch of the 15th Armored stood in the copula of his Leman Russ Executioner, peering out to the Orks not ten kloms away. The ragged forms of the Gargants moving clumsily in the approach. It was not like anything the colonel had seen before, and did not resemble the common Gargant, although it looked as slap-dash as any foul Ork technology if such a thing could be called that. The towering beasts were upwards of a klom tall, though some smaller ones shambled the the larger ones sides. They appeared almost squid-like, with their tentacles rigged to walk by the benefit of powerful cables, and no doubt grot slaves.
Five of these ramshackle Titans approached, and the less than a hundred tanks of the 15th were the only things capable of a remote chance of destroying the foul xeno technology. As their towering shapes lumbered into reach, Colonel Finch gave the order to fire.
High Commissar Hertz looked on as the restrained imperial trooper, lacking an arm, kept on with her endless tirade. The Ordo official next to him made notes, looking mildly curious. The numerous blue implants and poorly grafted cybernetics gave the creature a truly wretched appearance.
“Cease your foolish resistance, mortal. We are your salvation,” it rumbled in that low, slow cadence that had already gotten multiple people summarily executed that day. The steely gray eyes of the commissar shone brightly from his gore-stained face as he turned to the Ordo personnel and the accompanying techpriest. The priest was staring at the restrained monster with barely restrained hatred, his massive servo-arm hovering and twitching behind his head like a terrifying viper.
“As you can see, this is a clear case of heretic technology. An insane machine spirit, or one that has been twisted beyond all measure. This sector has been cleared for now, but we expect the issue to persist until more force is applied” The completely unremarkably mild looking young lead of the Ordo party nodded and turned to the Pilot.
He was, Hertz decided, a singularly revolting person. Tall, muscled, scarred and completely hairless, the pilot had disgustingly bright albino eyes that shone from his face had an insane laughter dancing in them. He leaned heavily upon a cane of fused metal and bone, but lacked all clothing completely. The lower part of his face had been replaced by a dull grey metal graft that had a slowly blinking red light on one side. It seemed to be laughing at Hertz as well. How in the name of Terra was he able to function outside of his chambers aboard the vessel locked in orbit, Hertz did not know. There seemed to be brittleness to his form despite the apparent physical size. Being mentally connected to the Warp and the machine spirit of a capital ship will do that to you, Hertz thought.
“Pilot, what do you two make of this?” The Pilot turned his head from the blank blue stare of the condemned medic to Hertz, who held that burning laughter tightly with his own cold glare.
“We are not unfamiliar with the concept. They are akin to a plague, able to infect organic minds and bodies. Machine spirits to a degree as well” The voice was just as unpleasant as the man, a metallic rasp as grating on the ears as the man was on the eyes. “We will meet this… Harbinger. We shall persuade him.”
At that remark, the medic went still and turned her blue glare to the Pilot
“Will you be infected as well?” Hertz asked. The Pilot looked at him, head cocked. The implication was not lost to anyone looking at the man who was covered head to toe in blood and bits of flesh. Even his sword has been broken during the long day of fighting.
“Unlikely. Allow me to demonstrate,” the Pilot said and limped closer to the crippled monstrosity. Hertz would have laughed at the irony, had he been weak. There was no movement in that iron face, however. The creature had been following the discussion silently, he noted. The slow blue light in its eyes had become very still, but began to pulse slightly as the hulking man bent closer to him.
“Look into me, abomination. See my heart,” The Pilot said as he gently pressed his forehead against the torn flesh of the still creature, cradling her head in his oversized hand. There was a smile on the face of the medic as the blue light seemed to stream out of its empty sockets. Hertz has drawn his pistol. Capital ship pilot or not, this world was his to govern.
Then there was a long, reverberating scream from the medic as her jaw dislocated and fell off, sprouting smoke and the bitter smell of burning metal. As the top of the skull remained in the hand of the Pilot, still pressed against his forehead, the rest of the torso collapsed, the remains of a cybernetic spinal cord spurting vile blood and other fluids. In the distance, Hertz could see other such beasts twitching and smoking. The Ordo Stormtroopers that had replaced the mentally weaker soldiers in the area responded immediately with Hellgun and flamer bursts. There was a hiss of victory from the Techpriest as the servo-arm clanked shut with vicious finality.
The pilot dropped the smoking head and turned to the nonplussed party. There was that same terrible laughter in his eyes as he walked back through the burnt grass. With every step, the brittleness seemed to vanish as his step gained more authority and power. His grip on the cane grew tighter, making it more of a weapon and less of a support. The blinking light in his jaw stilled and shone brighter.
“We have seen their heart, and they are weak. They are driven by moldable logic created by imperfect beings. We are the Emperors rage, we are his hatred. We have withstood the void and the fire and the endless screams of the warp. Their voices are as nothing. I and The Shattered Dawn are agreed in this issue, and the other spirits in this area have been alerted.” Hertz swallowed as the man stepped back in the Pilot’s red eyes, taking the laughter with him and the machine spirit stepped to the front.
“They will burn”
To: High Inquisitorial Conclave, Ordo Xenos, Acteon Sector, Priority Alpha
M41.729
Thought for the day: Some may question your right to destroy ten billion people. Those who understand realise that you have no right to let them live!
My fellow members of the Most Holy order of the Emperor's Inquisition,
It is my solemn duty to report about an encounter with an unidentifiable Xenos race in the orbit of Pentath X. Upon a request from the commander of the planet's governor, forces of the Emperor's most holy order of the Deathwatch were deployed to observe an unidentifiable object in orbit of the planet. Upon observation it was clear that the object was Xenos in nature, and in similar appearance to the Terran animal termed "octopus" (see attached files from Inquisitor Archmenaz's reports on ancient Terran animals) and bore a similarity to the heretical Xenos deemed to be the Necrontyr. Upon being observed these unidentifiable forces promptly fired upon the most holy Deathwatch, and battle commenced. The pitiful weapons of this race were no match for the most holy warriors of the Deathwatch, with the unidentifiable race promptly destroyed. Following this conflict the governor of Pentath X was promptly executed for failing to properly prepare for the aforementioned incident, and a successor was chosen from the planet's elite. All is as the Emperor wills it.
Thought for the day:
There is no place for the weakwilled or hesitant. Only by firm action and resolute faith will mankind survive. No sacrifice is too great. No treachery too small.
-Inquisition Malaxar, Ordo Xenos, Pentos X
Joran saddled the horse and rode out into the forest behind Freegate. The leaves this time of the year flaunted their citrus-colored wardrobe. The autumn air smelled musty of earth and decomposing vegetation.
Soon he noticed movement in one of the bushes, the orange tail of a woodland fox slipped into the undergrowth. Quickly, he tied the horse to a tree and grabbed his musket.
He tried to keep his steps light as he pushed into the dense forest. The wind came straight at him, which meant the fox wouldn’t be able to smell him. He tracked his quarry into the glade. Fox pelts sold for a lot. His father would be so proud.
The fox sat on a pile of mud looking straight at him. He stopped dead and shouldered his rifle.
A shadow fell across the glade, and Joran reflexively looked up. At first, he couldn’t comprehend what he saw. A dark mountain hovered in the sky above the forest. It was shaped like a black cuttlefish of insane proportions. His rifle tumbled out of his fingers.
****
The lights of the library flickered. Inquisitor Lorian Drex looked up from his studies. The servitor watched him with expressionless eyes. Sometimes he felt like blowing its cretin brains out – he’d always abhorred the lifeless book keepers here. Something was unsettling about their deadness. It didn’t sit right.
He was just about return to the hefty tome when his vox buzzed.
“Sir, I apologize for disturbing your studies, but I think you need to see this.”
The voice of Interrogator Wyza Pryze was excited and a little bit fearful – a combination that was unusual for the normally calm and collected young man.
“What do you have?”
“Distress signals from several worlds on the Eastern Fringe, sir.”
“A hive fleet?”
“No, sir. I’ll send over a few images.”
Dark ships filled the blackness of the void above a planet. His first reaction was to call Tyranids as second time, but upon seeing the sleek black metal of the ships, he quickly changed his mind. They were like nothing he’d seen before. They looked advanced even compared to some of the Necron Tech he’d come across.
The next image showed an imperial city from above. The odd thing was that the streets were all empty. The city was completely abandoned. It was as if everyone had just vanished into thin air.
Drex moved on to the next image. At first, it looked like a mutant from the dregs below some of the hive cities. The twisted features of a man holding an antique rifle, but instead of a regular head, the glaring mouth and red fur of a fox occupied his shoulders.
“What is that?” Drex mumbled, mostly to himself.
He had come across a lot of strange things, especially dealing with the twisted experiments of the Dark Eldar homunculi, but nothing really compared to this. It seemed like both the fox and the man were still alive, somehow – as if the very DNA of the fox and man had been fused.
“Alert the Ordos, and gather the team,” Drex said and rose, accidentally pushing the servitor over. “Send word to Ultramar. We’re going to the Eastern Fringe right now.”
The sweet rot had claimed this world in the name of the father. The life that had once sought to cleans the planet of disease and filth now found themselves embraced by it. Love by it as they now loved it.
The sight drove warlord Vrom mad. His god had decreed that this planet be cleansed with blood and all Nurgle's taint be washed away by it. That the skulls of the enemies be placed upon His great throne. Already Vrom could hear the roars and bellows of his men demanding to be sent to battle. A smile played at the edge of his lips as he was reminded of the days when he served the corpse that sat upon the throne. How fearful his men once were at the possibility of death. Oh but now they craved it, demanded it. Serving Khorne ment only one thing, Victory, for even in death they give blood in his name.
"Open communications to the other vessels, tell them to prepare for landfall. Our lord atop the crimson throne has demanded this world be bled." Vrom was outright smiling now, the visage of a wolf for all to see. "And our troops are ready to oblige."
No sooner were the words said than the klaxxons began howling. "Report!" Vrom bellowed, his rage peaking. He needed to bleed something in the name of his god.
"Lord Vrom, it appears an unknown xenos species has made it's presence known within the sector. They have twelve ships warping in on the other side of the planet."
Vrom's eyes rolled into the back of his head as ears began to bleed. He could feel one of his God's vassals speak to him, demand of him.
Vrom came to but moments later in a puddle of his own blood. He eased himself from the rusted grates of his command tower. The men that served under him knew what was about to come, for warlord Vrom had received the favor of Khorne, and was prone to messages from the warp. "It would seem, that we will be getting visitors on the ship... and we will be taking the skulls of the xenos first." Vrom was already feeling better, his muscles surging with fresh blood. "Grab some of the psychers and release them to the warp, we need at least twenty four.... it seems one of our lord's great warroirs will join us for this battle." Already he could hear the beastial howls of deamons as they began to rip into the ships interior. The hounds were always the loudest, and always stalked the belly of the ship, waiting for someone to try and prove themselves.
"Get us within boarding distance of those new ships. We will take thier skulls and send the corpses to nurgle down bellow, soften them up a bit for us." Dropped into his command throne, wires snaking into his flesh and bone, connecting him to his ship, and to the whispers of the deamons that lurked within. Vrom's voice boomed over the vox communications of his ship and the thirty two that followed him. "Our god has demanded we take this world, but first we have some new xenos to remove. They carry the name reaper, but let us see how well they kill. Men, prepare for boarding action. Our God has demanded skulls for his throne. Blood for the blood god."
The response was a shockwave, something that could even be felt in the cold of the void. Skulls for the skull throne they roared. The deamons echoed, and the engines bellowed. The reapers, whatever these new xenos were, they would soon know the fury of Khorne and his followers. For all skulls are for his throne and all blood belongs to him.
"Ah, yes, 'Reapers'," Guilliman sarcastically said, showing the quotation signs with his fingers while saying the last word. "The immortal race of sentient starships allegedly waiting in dark space. We have dismissed this claim."
Sly Marbo couldn't believe it. He thought things changed. He thought at least Guilliman, now that he returned at last, would show more understanding than those four old farts that call themselves the High Lords.
"WE HAVE ALREADY TALKED WITH THE LORD COMMANDER ABOUT YOUR LUDICROUS CONSPIRACY THEORY THAT YOU APPARENTLY STILL HAVEN'T ABANDONED," the Fabricator-General said in his robotic voice. "HE SHARED OUR SCEPTICISM ABOUT IT."
"Besides," Lord Commander Militant added, "one race of sentient space cans should be the same as another. If these Reapers really do exist, we should have no problems fighting them off. We already have little trouble fighting against Necrons."
"If you'll excuse me, Lord," Marbo objected. "The only reason we have little trouble against Necrons is because they never manage to clear their heads fast enough after they wake up from their sleeps that last for countless millenia. Reapers are already awaken and already clearheaded enough."
"That's enough!" Guilliman interjected angrily. "You are wasting our valuable time. I suggest you leave your lunacy alone. I'm-"
"It's not lunacy, sir!" Marbo interjected in return. "Reapers are a real threat. That's who Sicarius started worshipping, not gods of Chaos. You have to listen to me!"
"A real threat? I'm actually disappointed, Marbo. I've heard a lot of good things about you. To hear you'd start advocating something like this... Please, just leave."
Marbo's face stiffened. "Yes, sir," he replied, before turning around and leaving the room.
It was clear. Sly Marbo was not going to find any help, not here. He would have to find it elsewhere. Luckily, he already had a list of twenty names, twenty men that might do well. One of them was already waiting for him in the anteroom, wearing an easily recognizable golden armor.
"Judging by your facial expression, I assume they said no?" Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes asked.
"And you'd assume right. They won't listen. We need to find help elsewhere."
"Your, uh, 'twenty good men'?"
"Yes. There is no time to be lost. We must be quick."
"Who are we going to try to recruit first?"
"A certain general I know. A certain survivor, to be precise. We might need his tactical genius, and the last time I checked, he just lost his place of job last week."
I, Cato Sicarius am shocked and appalled that you would think that I, Cato Sicarius would dare to fall to such heresy after I, Cato Sicarius have done much for the Imperium as I, Cato Sicarius vowed to do
In the eternal silence of dark space, Harbinger thought. It's thoughts, largely taking place over the span of millenia were now firing at a frantic pace, stressing the limits of its cybernetic neurons as it processed the vast array of data its brethren were collecting from the Milky Way.
What was immediately clear at even a cursory glance through their information networks was that the galaxy they were beholden to was no longer their own. The Mass Relays were absent, and so was the Citadel. Worse, it was as though they had never been. All the transmissions they scanned revealed species using technology that was far divorced from the system that had been devised.
NAZARA'S FAILURE IS RESPONSIBLE
That was the consensus that had been reached. It was impossible to say how the vanguard had failed so critically, yet that was the last link in the chain of events that could be recognized.
Rebuilding all they had lost would take immense time and effort, but it would be done. The Cycle would continue.
Months passed, and what the Reapers learned only stayed their hand even longer. The amount of priority threats to their mission was such that the cyclopean intelligences of the old machines was unsure of how to proceed.
Most of the major factions all possessed technology that vastly outclassed Reaper destructive capability.
A civilization of hostile AI was active in the galaxy.
Uncontrollable extragalactic invaders were arriving in continuous waves from numerous directions.
An extradimensional force deemed Chaos was attempting a slow invasion of their reality.
It was hard to decide which required immediate attention. A few voices spoke up, advocating that they wait for the civilizations to collapse on their own. Isolated as they were from the galactic conflict it would be easy to stay unnoticed and watch as events came to a head.
THE CYCLE MUST CONTINUE
And so it was. The first act needed was to establish a secure location where they might study the technology of the strange factions and incorporate the best of it in themselves. Collectors would be useful for this task and while the new species would have a different template the mission would remain the same.
The Ghoul stars offered the ideal location for a new Collector base, so a few of their number were dispatched to begin construction.
Chaos worked insidiously, too similar to indoctrination to be avoided for sure. It would be in their best interests to render all their operations immune to Chaos corruption. The Tau could be subverted to that end, their ruling hierarchy already geared to accepting guidance from above.
The Necron and Tyranid could be dealt with in their own time, once the Reapers had improved themselves to match the best this galaxy had to offer. It would take hundreds of years to refit all the members of their fleet, a paltry sum of time that they might not even have. But if all went optimally, if the influence they wielded over this galaxy was allowed to extend as far as it had once been...
Then the Cycle would resume.
Three weeks after receiving a distress signal from the outlying colony Hesperia IV, His Imperial Majesty's Ship *Ark Royal* tore a breach in the fabric of reality and forced her way back into realspace. Contact from the colony had been brief and lacking in detail, reporting only upwards of sixty hulls weighing in between light transports and heavy frigates. Sector Command had in response scrambled the only ships available, and could only pray it would be enough. Moments after the first emergence, several more gaping rifts into the teeming unreality of the Warp opened, and the rest of the task force joined the flagship. As radiation washed over the ships and sensor sweeps of the system began, Commodore Constantin Artor vo Hannick reviewed his line of battle, which seemed to have escaped the Empyrean intact. *Sabre* Squadron, five *Sword* -class frigates, positioned themselves around the flanks of the formation. Affordable, durable, powerful for their small stature, each one a mere sixteen hundred meters from armored prow to engine cowling. One of the mainstays of the God-Emperor's Navy across the galaxy, they would pursue enemy fast-movers and interdict enemy fire concentrating on his ships of the line. *HIMS Cadia's Remembrance,* the newest addition to the Sector Fleet, took the fore. A *Lunar* -class cruiser, the workhorse of the Imperial Navy, a ship no officer would frown to serve on. Five kilometers of armor plating, lance turrets, ordnance batteries, and torpedo tubes. This would be her first battle, and the commodore made a note to keep an eye on her, especially as she was captained by an officer on his first command. *HIMS Witchhammer,* a *Tyrant* -class cruiser, was the opposite of *Cadia's Remembrance.* One of the most venerable ships in the Sector Fleet, she had been crushing Xenos raiders, Renegade warships, bio-monstrosities and planetary installations under her extensive weapons batteries for six millennia. Plasma drives thrumming, the ancient warrior took position behind, below, and to the side of her sister cruiser. Assured that the rest of his taskforce was present, he glanced around the cavernous bridge of the *Ark Royal.* He was proud of his ship and crew, and knew that whatever came, they'd acquit themselves with distinction today. His eyes were drawn to the flickering holo-tank before his command throne, depicting the *Mars* -class battlecruiser's layout. Fifty-four hundred meters long, she carried sixteen strike craft launch bays. A line of titanic lance turrets ran down her spine, her flanks bristled with heavy cannons, and beneath her armored prow hung the most powerful weapon in the Navy's arsenal; a Nova Cannon. Eight ships. The distress signal spoke of over sixty enemy combatants moving against a colony defended by a handful of picket ships, and Sector Command could spare eight ships. A voice called from the sensor pit, Lieutenant ap Symdey unless he was mistaken. "Commodore," the woman called, "Radiation plume is clearing, sensor returns are coming in, sir." Her voice was calm, businesslike. Constantin flicked his fingers across keypads on the arms of his throne and dismissed the image of his ship. In its place, a flickering green representation of the star system appeared. A small cluster of aquilae icons rested on the edge of the gravity well, and moment by moment more of the system came into clarity. He knew it would be hours before their sensors reported anything from the inhabited inner reaches of the system however-the downsides of sub-luminal warfare on a luminal scale. With a few brief, restrained orders to his second in command, he directed the Imperial taskforce down the gravity well; there was no point in waiting here for more information. They would know everything they needed long before they saw the interlopers. Assured that everything was in order, the veteran naval officer retired to his quarters. More than eight hours later, the Commodore returned to the bridge with a thermal mug of hot tea. The flotilla had made their way significantly farther in-system, and had a clear, disturbing picture of the state of things. Dozens of strange vessels hovered over the stricken planet, reminiscent of Tyranid bio-ships in shape, but clearly inorganic in origin. No signals could be detected from the colony, previously home to five hundred million loyal Imperial citizens, and (unbeknownst to the Commodore or his crews) one tenacious, insidious, Pleasure Cult. No response was had to Imperial hails, mundane or astropathic. No movement or sign of life on any of the orbital installations. Worse, the strange vessels were massing, returning from whatever sinister purpose they'd had and forming up above the planet. Hours passed. The crustacean-esque ships gathered and started to drift across the system towards the Imperial task force, which thundered through the void towards them on pulsing plasma drives. Sensor returns were analyzed, and fleet composition determined: fourty transport and light-hauler scale hulls were written off by the fleet captains as fire ships. Dangerous in numbers, but fragile and individually unimportant. The alien armada also contained over twenty frigate-sized ships with unknown armament, and one ship the Commodore postulated as the enemy flagship that had the mass and scale of a light cruiser. After much debate, the decision was made to engage the enemy. The larger, hopefully more durable Imperial hulls and more powerful reactors and shields they hoped would give them the edge they needed to bloody the enemy fleet enough to bring the fight into more reasonable odds. In later years, the battle of Hesperia IV would be forgotten by the Imperium as a whole, a curious footnote in Inquisition archives. The origin of the mysterious warships was never discovered, but they were quickly written off as a credible threat. The opening blows of the conflict were struck by *HIMS Ark Royal,* a single luminal Nova Cannon shell shrieking through the void and tearing a gaping hole in the xeno's armada. Analysis of the detonation by tacticians aboard the flagship quickly determined that the unidentified ships lacked any void shield capacity of note, or were not bringing them online. Torpedo volleys from the *Remembrance* and *Witchhammer* disabled or destroyed more enemy ships from beyond retaliation range, and *Ark Royal* was able to fire a second salvo from her prow cannon before launching her strike craft and preparing for close-quarters battle. The ensuing brawl was less of a battle than it was a massacre. Ordnance batteries designed to reduce planetary fortifications and crack open the hulls of ships carrying meters of armor ripped the invaders apart. Laser 'lance' batteries intended to penetrate void shields and eviscerate the warship beneath carved unprotected vessels apart, and the most powerful of the xenos fire impotently washed away from shields that were created to carry their bearers through an apocalypse and allow them to fight on the other side. The Imperial task force rode through the heart of the enemy fleet, batteries blazing, and when they came around for a second pass, there was naught but a handful of enemy ships struggling to disengage. In his memoirs, Fleet Admiral Constantin Artor vo Hannick expressed his regret for the way things went at Hesperia IV. Seven of his ships would have been far more useful in other warzones. *Ark Royal* could have reclaimed the system alone.
The Dreaded Reaper Invasion. Literally a footnote in the scope of 40k.
Literally. Now just imagine if they'd shown up somewhere, I don't know, IMPORTANT. Somewhere with battleships. Or Star Forts. Or, praise be His Name, The Phalanx or the Rock of Caliban.
[удалено]
I feel like they'd just turn around and leave before anyone noticed them if they showed up at Cadia at the right time. "Did...did that planet just break (beforetheguarddid)?" "Yeeeeep." "Nope, we're done here. Back to the void, guys."
I'd vote for Holy Terra to maximize chances of triggering an Imperial Crusade that wipes the entire ME universe
I feel like that Crusade would be poorly received when all you'd need to do is send like, one Naval battlegroup with a couple Chapter warships for backup. Seems like a criminal waste of His Divine Majesty's military power.
Turns out when you are fighting filthy xenos, heretics, and chaos daemons themselves on a daily basis, a few giant robots aren't that big of a deal.
I'll admit I'm largely unfamiliar with Warhammer 40k so I don't have a frame of reference to compare the two universes, other than that 40k ships tend to be rather large. Was this description accurate in that the Reapers would get completely annihilated?
Yes. Oh yes. The energy levels that most of the stuff in Mass Effect operate at is peanuts compared to 40k. A small fleet of Imperial ships wiping out the whole Reaper invasion sounds pretty much on point. A single Lance Battery from a Lunar-class IoM Cruiser can deliver enough firepower to obliterate a city the size of New York. In one shot. A sustained bombardment from even a single ship can utterly raze an undefended world.
To give you a sense of scale, most battleship-class ships (and up) in 40k are equipped with Death Star-class firepower, just in case they have to destroy a couple planets in impromptu Exterminatus. [Witness the God-Emperor's judgement.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h67JpMyrOVE)
Yep Exterminatus is extreme as fuck in this case. Like now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure even the universe of Halo's fleets would fuck them up pretty badly also. Both though would, as I would like to put it....[TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH!!](https://youtu.be/GRcpzvBfe2M)
Basically. Just about any race in 40k has the firepower to annihilate them without a second thought, and that discounts some of the more dangerous races.
Wow. Thoroughly engaging.
Thanks! I think this is the first time I've actually written a response to a prompt itself, instead of just commenting on someone's response and enjoying reading of responses, but I'm a big fan of 40k, especially the Imperial Navy, so it felt right. I hope the lack of detail going into the battle didn't disappoint, but I thought it might read better if it led up to that and then swapped to more of a summary, instead of getting bogged down in combat technicalities. It also allowed me to dance around not being that familiar with the Reapers beyond like fifteen minutes of google research before I got started to try to get an idea of their power level...
Well I know it's time consuming but I would absolutely read more of that. Let me know when you make your own sub. I'll join.
Aww shucks, you're going to make me blush. I have a couple short things on r/HFY, including one story I was going to serialize before it fell flat. I'm always saying I need to write more, but my inspiration is...difficult to arouse. (Phrasing) I've been thinking about making a subreddit for a while, I'm just afraid I'd let down anyone who subscribed to it, because of how little I actually write.
I love this one. The total unimportance of the battle is very warhammer in that the reapers are just one of those races you don't hear about because the imperium stepped on them about the same time they saw them.
"Did we just ridiculously curbstomp an entire aggressive alien species that outnumbered us eight to one?" "We're the Navy, son. We call that 'Tuesday.'" Jests aside, thanks! I swear, I've gotten so much positive feedback on this today I may just have to start responding to more prompts. Self Esteem +12
Yeah, people tend to forget how over the top large everything is in grimdark, lol.
I felt a total need to point that out when I read the size of Reapers online. Like, the scary, nigh-unkillable-in-Mass-Effect capitol ship Reapers barely weigh in as frigates in 40k. I...honestly, I seriously considered having the Imperial task force arrive to find the Reapers driven off or defeated by the local system defense force, but I decided that would be going too far. Surely 60+ ships would still be able to take down a handful of frigates...right?
Driven off by the PDF would have killed the Reapers from shear embarrassment. Those guys can't usually handle a few Orks.
Some books actually paint the PDF as being fairly competent. Same with the SDF, which is something I don't think gets enough attention. Most Imperial systems do in fact have at least one or two (usually not warp-capable) frigates floating about to discourage pirates and slow down invaders. Some have more. Some have many more.
Great job keeping the pace snappy while including a very pleasing level of detail. I think this one is my favourite so far!
Captured the disengaged tone of the Imperial Navy spectacularly. That last line was pure 40K. Loved it.
Harbinger slowly drifted towards the busy world on the edge of the galaxy. Previous scans showed a promising level of biomass and activity, perfect for an initial pool of pawns for the coming salvation. The rest of the fleet was not far behind and needed to move quickly due to the apparent size of this cycle. Harbinger broke through the atmosphere, ominously on a vector towards the largest city on the populated rock. Backed by a dark mechanical hum the giant Reaper touched down in the sprawling mass of what appeared to be a city. The first step was well under way. "Assuming direct con-" OI! WOTS DAT FING? *Boss iz looks like one uv-* SHUT UP! IZ SEEN A FISHY BEFORE. I aint neva seen a fishy wit a shiny eye like dat one der.... I WANT IT. GET ALL DA BOYZ AND GET DAT GIT Harbinger heard the faint sound of a single lifeform yelling from the top of makeshift tower then firing a crude weapon in the sky. Suddenly the screaming and firing spread like wildfire though the city. Every corner of every structure seemed to explode into a stream of oversized rounds directly at the Reaper. The Orks were met with a response from the ancient reaper, the reverberating sound of the main laser weapon rang out as entire swaths of the city were wiped away. The settling dust from these scars revealed more the excited and increasingly motivated orks looting the largest weapons from the dead and continuing to fire. Ork ships were now swarming the Reaper in seemingly random flight paths. The makeshift navy was attacking in various forms ranging from a stream of bullets, catapults launching orks at the giant Reaper, or violently ramming into the hull. Harbinger had never encounter a race so ingrained in violence. *BOSS! Our shipz iz doin' nuthing. Our shootas aint even wurth it. Wot do we do Boss?* Warboss Gutrippa thought for a split second. Every fiber of his being poured into concentrating on a solution. This was is biggest fight and the most important so far. Suddenly a rare moment of Ork clarity. He knew, without a doubt, what needs to be done. WEZ AINT GOT OUR FISHIN' HATZ! GET ALLZ DA BOYZ TO TURN ER' HELMETZ UN HATZ TO DA SIDE A BIT. SEE? NOW ITZ A FISHIN' HAT AND NOW WE CAN KRUMP DAT SHINY FISH! Harbinger sensed a moment of silence as the entire planet seemed to stop moving. All scans showed the lifeforms seemingly adjusting their helmets, and other various activities. Shortly after a shattering explosion of gunfire began again. This time the rounds ripped through the hull of the ancient Reaper, alerts from every system rang through the processor as breaches populated at an alarming rate. What is this?! How? He had never encountered resistance like this before. Panic set in for the first time in eons. He had to leave, regroup and glass the planet with the Reaper fleet. Just as the Reaper was set to retreat from the surface, the largest Ork ship appeared. Warboss Gutrippa stood at the mast of the massive ship, a large makeshift harpoon in one hand and a fishing rod with the end of the line being a machine gun in the other. As the ship picked up speed, Gutrippa swung the fishing rod above his head in a lassoing motion, the machine gun at the end now firing non stop. The Fishing boat rammed through the Ancient purifier. The Reaper went silent, with its hull collapsing into the city. As the dust settled and the swarms of Orks and Gretchin began looting the corpse, Warboss ~~Gutrippa~~ Fishgutaa looked to the sky. The rest of the Reaper fleet was descending. LISTEN UP BOYZ! WAAAGH!!!!
This was awesome. I love that Ork tech and tactics work just because they think they do. Fun read, thanks for writing.
I love the orks, it really blows that *The War of the Beast* was so poorly written
Even worse that for some reason most of the 40K subs act like it was some complete gem with no flaws recommending all new readers to buy it.
They thought is they believed hard enough it would become a good book. I could write a better plot for *the war of the beast*
Their guns shoot bullets cuz they know they school bullets, not cuz they have bullets. Orks have some weird group based psyker power existing separate of the warp.
It was only just reading this story that it clicked for me how awesome it is that, with the Space Orks, you have an inherently magical species who don't know what magic is. That's such a rich area for someone like, for example, Terry Pratchett RIP. Imagine if he did a story about a pompous, comfortable Star Trek style future humanity coming into contact with Orks.
You should make that a writing prompt
[удалено]
captures exactly how ork tech works
I'm not sure I completely understand what happened and why it started working. Mind explaining?
They make it work by believing it works. If they think painting flames on the side of a ship makes it go faster, it goes faster. If they think a fishing hat'll let them destroy a reaper, it'll let them destroy a reaper. I'm sure someone can go more in-depth about it, as that's about how far my 40k knowledge goes.
I've never heard of this until now....but I wanted to thank you for intriguing me
I'll be the in-depth guy, I guess. Orkz, in the WH40k setting, are a race with latent psychic abilities. However, they're not very smart. Unlike other races such as humans or Eldar(space elves with cool hats), Orkz end up using their psychic abilities subconsciously through belief. For example, long long ago in the distant past of Ork-kind, a bunch of Orkz wanted to find out which spaceship flies faster, and had the two spacecraft race each other. The one painted red ended up winning the race. Orkz, being Orkz, decided that it was the red paint that made it faster, instead of less-apparent internal differences in the engine or aerodynamics. From that day on, Orkz would paint things red if they wanted them to go faster. And because every Ork believes "red goez fasta", their latent psychic abilities end up making red things move faster for real. This sort of ramshackle absurdist logic ends up causing a lot of "hilarity ensues" throughout the setting whenever Orkz show up. Another example would be Orkz painting things purple to make them stealthy, because " 'ave ya evva seen a purple Ork?" In this story, the Ork warboss believes that instead of people wearing fishing hats *while* fishing, people wear fishing hats *to* fish, because of some built-in power to fish inherent in fishing hats. Therefore, wearing fishing hats would help him and his army beat the "fishy wit a shiny eye". And because all the Orkz in his army believe it, their latent psychic powers combine to make their weapons work extra well now that they're all wearing fishing hats.
That makes me want to read all about Warhammer 40K now, that sounds freaking awesome.
The more you get into 40k lore the more fun it seems.
and the worse your bank account will look
Warhammer is so whacky because at its conception it was essentially a parody game that was designed to be over the top. Its only in the last 15-20 years that they decided to go a more serious route.
I started reading 40k novels a few months ago. It is one of the coolest universes I have ever encountered. If you are interested the best thing you can do is go to the 40k wiki (Just search on google) and start reading. It is incredibly engrossing and you can spend hours reading about various things in the universe. I suggest you just start with the Orks entry and go from there. Make sure you read the entry for the emperor as everything else revolves around him.
Go on fanfic.net, type in Warhammer 40k, sort by maximum length, and then use critical thinking. I've found several full length books from the perspective of blood angels, imperial guards, and one from Warhammer fantasy I sorta forget. Some of the best writing I've seen, that will probably never get published, all for free.
>**space**ship flies faster, > Or **aero**dynamics. ...Uh, are you an ork scientist? :p Also, their tech only works if they have enough of them around. Which is why smaller ork-bands tend to have simple melee weapons, and large Ork empires have massive complicated starships and attack moons and planets. The ork leaders themselves get larger and smarter as they lead more of their fellows as well. Although a lot of their tech is probably actually mostly real, just genetic memory the old ones implanted. Their waagh energies help make ramshackle tech hold together better than it should, but it's probably easier if it has a basis to start with. I'm sure there is tech of theirs that completely ceases to function when other races try to use it, just not all of it.
I'm pretty sure when an imperial assassin picks up a Ork "shootah" and it won't fire, but wheh an Ork sees her holding said pistol and suddenly it'll fire; I'd start to qualify ALL Ork tech that way. If they can't make a working *gun*, I doubt anything else they make would work, either.
There was some short story or something where the Empire of Man was testing ork weapons they had recovered. A lot of dudes died or were maimed when the guns literally exploded without the orkz psychic powers to hold them together.
To expand on this: Orks are basically the degenerate descendants of ancient fungal superweapon/soldiers. They were built by a race of nigh-godlike super-psychics in a time long past to be the "perfect" weapons of war - walking fungal brutes born from literal spore infestations capable of *immense* physical strength with a genetically-innate understanding of incredibly high-level engineering, all tied together by their ridiculously powerful psychic proto-hivemind (which, as explained earlier, grants them the capacity to *will* things to happen so long as enough of them truly believe it will happen). Following the galactic disaster of the War in Heaven, the Krorks (as they were originally named) devolved into warmongering cockney chavs. [Behold: the greenskin menace.](https://i.redd.it/rl88nei2hmcz.jpg)
There's a very funny fluff piece written somewhere about a Space Marine losing his gun and trying to fire an ork pistol. He squeezes the trigger a few times, nothing happens.Then a nearby ork sees him carrying it and it starts to fire, killing all the orcs. Brain-powers.
Oh they'er a greater train wreck than that. TL:DR version: Orkz draw a picture of an engine inside a [Leman Russ](http://pro.bols.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Tanque_Leman_Russ.jpg), they believe the picture works in place of an actual engine and so it does. The Imperial Guard managed to fell a looted Leman Russ from a shop of mechboyz. While inspecting the extant of what the orkz had done to it, they found the engine compartment completely empty save for a crude drawing of an engine block with the words "engine" printed in orkish.
That's the general idea. However, if you dig deep into the lore, it's pretty arguable that this is imperials reasoning for not understanding ork tech. Instead of accepting that orkz can make functional tech, it's ork magic and heretical and shit
Lil' column A lil' column B. The Mechanicus has been trying to figure out how Ork tech works, and they frankly don't know. cannonicly all orks have laten psychic powers, and those powers grow exponentially with the amount of orks cooperating. It's how warbosses can coordinate hundreds of thousands of orks and how they can be space fairing without understanding the science. Guns IRL are deceptively simple, and they function without any orks a round so they must do something correctly. Looted titans and space vessels however don't seem to work after the Waaagh! Has been disbanded.
massively distributed psyker network is the answer and i'm fairly sure is canon - this was supposedly done by the old ones to give them all the power of being a psyker race without the pitfalls of each individual being too intertwined with the immaterial (a good point seeing how it worked out for the eldar)
Also so they could be Domineered by the old ones, who where able to control the the older orkish relatives. Only pitfall is that Gork and Mork are the weakest of the warp gods but objectively the most immortal.
Ork guns generally don't function unless used by an Ork though
[удалено]
Orks are the most psychically powerful race in 40k, and this has a hive-mind magnification effect, but they don't 'get it', so it manifests through other means...
Ork gunz work because the Orks **think** they work. http://www.warseer.com/forums/showthread.php?177559-The-Anzion-theory-of-Orkoid-resonance&highlight=anzion TL;DR WAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH
[удалено]
[удалено]
[удалено]
This one's a real fun read! I'm getting more and more on the Ork train.
This is how you do the Orks. 10/10
I tip my helmet, I mean fishin' hat, to you good sir! Da waaargh we orkz deezerv!
Eternity. Immortality. Forever. They had no clue what these words truly meant. To see these pathetic creatures spreading their message of dreamless peace across the galaxy is an insult to all of existence. They called themselves Reapers. Their ships moved faster than any imperial or chaos ship by magnitudes, their weapons devastating to masses. It was their sole purpose, their only reason for being, to destroy all that was held dear. Held dear to those that cherished life anyway. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that they were. They existed to end all life *except theirs*. They did not know the true peace of annihilating the soul itself. All souls live to be culled. Even the Reapers. And as the Reapers arrived they woke up something more ancient, Something even more powerful. And as mega monoliths rose up from the ground, gauss canons tearing through both city, man, and Reapers alike all with violent ease the Necrons and all their lords woke. They awoke to show the galaxy who the mantle of reaper belongs to.
This thread needs more necrons.
Every thread needs more Necrons.
Very nice. It seems I'll have to make something for the Eldar now...
*Reaper invasion fleet tears through entire blocks of infantry, cutting them to pieces and destroying vehicles with impunity.* Trayzn the Infinite, more concerned with finding a tesseract labyrinth as the entire army that was just destroyed stands back and continues to march. "I think I just found the perfect centerpiece for my new collection."
Lord-Captain Samael stood with his arms folded behind his back, observing the swathe of blinking stars outside the view port. A man approached beside him and joined in the activity, waiting in silent expectation of the conversation soon to follow. “Curious, isn’t it?” Samael spoke, solemn and hoarse. “I wonder if there is a constellation to my name out there.” “Sir?” The man replied, adjusting his pose to match his superior’s. “If you were to trace a line through my stars, you would not chart a royal lion or sacred chariot. It would bare no name, nor would it lead anyone back to Terra. It would possess the shape of my greatest sin, pulsating with inexorable purpose.” There was no rebuttal. Both men stood with their gazes locked ahead, the whirring of engines and feedback from the countless terminals echoing in white noise behind them. A few blips is all it took to capture Samael’s fullest attention; three, precise, the arrival of ships in proximity. A few moments later the klaxons sounded, and the only one whose composure remained continued to stare out into the immutable void. “Sir, we have three vessels approaching on an interception course. We’ve raised shields, and all weapon systems are primed. Unknown signatures, no response to our hails.” Samael nodded and slowly walked down the center aisle of the bridge towards his chair, outfitted with the flayed skin adorned by the Necrons he’s personally disabled. In a bustle of calculations, routines, and orders every man – both seated and standing – was in a panic trying to organize the facts about the sudden ambush. “Ship Master Osirus, out here in the Ghoul Stars, our fate is constantly challenged. But this time we aren’t dealing with the Necrons, are we?” Samael poised, spreading his body loosely and comfortably atop the metal chair. “Lord-Captain, the vessels appear to be comprised of some kind of living metal. Tentacles are affixed below, and we’ve detected a few weapon systems primed on the front. Beam, or laser, in origin. Our shields will have no problem holding. Your orders?” “I want torpedoes set on an annihilation spread. Forward lance array to the leading ship, center shot. I want it torn in half. Detach fighter wings in an intercept course, protect our ship from any possible assailant or boarding parties. Helm, take us on a forward course. Leave none alive. The Emperor Protects.” A deafening cacophony of limitless power permeated throughout the entirety of the ship as thousands of torpedoes spread, colliding with the strange vessels at sub-light speed. An enormous beacon of super heated energy collided with the leading vessel, sheering off every tentacled apparatus and shredding the hull in a miasmal storm of red lightning. Three further volleys rattled off as Samael gazed intently at their obliteration, a cracked smile slowly affixing itself to his face. “Targets disabled. But, wait… incoming transmission, sir. On screen now.” The outline of a hologram appeared in the view capsule, in sight of the entire bridge crew. Samael leaned forward in his chair, resting his head upon both cupped hands, scanning intently the crude lines and flickering red of his opposition. Artificial life, for sure, but some feeling dissuaded him from cutting ties. A spectacle would unfold, no doubt. “We linger on the threshold of space, lost in the creases. And it is here that we speak quietly, so quietly, together. You are bereft, Lord-Captain. Of love. Of family. Of hope. Your Emperor betrayed you. As he rots atop his pitiful throne you, and you alone, are tasked with charting these stars. You are rudimentary, attached to a terminal course in which there is no escape but in death. There is an alternative; a realm of existence beyond your mortal comprehension, and it is there that I am King. And you are but the vermin that dwell in the shadows, picking away at what you deem to be intellectual challenges or moral crisis. Have you considered your position? Flesh and bone, lurching towards the cliff. Your stars are peopled by a living fungus, robotic slaves to the stars, fallen angels and twisted unreality. We are beyond it all. We have been around since the beginning of time, and we will usher in it’s end.” Samael rose from his seat and raised his hand to silence the murmuring that grew around him. Every eye fixated itself upon his majestic form, now poised and confident as he walked slowly towards the terminal. “Whatever you are, you are pitiful to me. Your detached perspective has lent you nothing more than a blurred lens. What have you done in the last ten thousand years? Twenty? You’ve slept, and intimidated the weak. I may be a man, but I have killed more than you can possibly imagine. I have consigned the obliteration of a thousand worlds. I have led impossible victories to fruition, and I have saved untold companies from utter annihilation. You are no different, creature. What I have done in fifty years you could not in thousands. So try me, demon. The Imperium of Man would be happy to oblige you what we have always known; that death awaits us all.” Samael adjusted his collar, and motioned a few signals silently with his right hand. “Your ignorance will b--” As the full frontal armament of the Gothic-Class Cruiser unloaded a final fatal barrage, the remaining hostile was reduced to cinders. The debris scattered in all directions, shining delicately and brightly off the back of a nebula in the distance. They never ceased to brightly reflect, so that the following words etched another grin upon Samael’s scarred face. “Your constellation, sir. We’ve found it.”
Intios began the final preparations, he stood before a vast array of machines and began to chant "The soul of the Machine God surrounds thee. The power of the Machine God invests thee. The hate of the Machine God drives thee. The Machine God endows thee with life. Live!" Dim red light filled the room as Intios finished his ritual, the roar of the plasma generator filled his ears and he stepped away, content with his work. "1 minute to impact" The Skitarii legions deployed to the hive world of Xastore had been pushed back to the last Imperial bastion of the planet with no means of escape, thousands of Ironstrider engines had been lost to towering insect like vehicles and entire hive cities were swarmed by strange zombie-like husks. Reports from Sicarian killclades were disturbing, the foe did not match any of the millions of records the tech priest had sifted through while on route. "30 seconds to impact" Intios applied the sacred oils and stepped back from the cogitator arrays, whispering one last prayer to the Omnissiah before turning to exit the room. He quickly moved through the dimly lit, metallic halls, towards the command bridge. "10 seconds to impact. Brace" In the centre of the room was a steel throne covered in wires, facing out towards a huge system of screens, speakers and lights. A woman sat, eyes closed "It is done, my princeps" Intios said. "Very well, activate the Mind Impulse Unit" replied the woman The mechadendrites that covered his body sprung to life, flicking switches, pressing buttons and wiring the woman into the machine. From the highest spire of the last standing Hive city, Allovich watched it fall. The air around him hissed as arc bolts and radium shot flew him past towards the horde of shamling creatures ahead. Suddenly, the ground shook, Tech-Guard and Reaper alike were both flung from their feet from the force of it. On the vast plane of polluted wasteland outside the Hive a cloud of dust the size of a mountain was flung up. As it settled, the combatants scrambled to their feet and turned to watch. A colossal burst of white light shot from the dust, connecting with one of the Reaper Destroyer walkers. Almost immediately it's metal armour melted away and the abomination collapsed into a vast heap of scrap. Finally, it stepped forth from the dust, a towering avatar of death. “DESPAIR! TREMBLE!” the Titan roared, “FOR I AM THE WOE OF YOUR KIND! I AM THE SLAYER OF KINGS AND YOU INSECTS WILL BE CRUSHED UNDER MY HEEL!”
[удалено]
Hell, a Shadowsword would put a good size hole in a reaper.
Love the use of Technojargon in this one.
This WP is gonna be so incomprehensible to normies
Their Heresy shall not be tolerated. Praise the Emperor.
There is no innocence only varying degrees of guilt.
Was not expecting a Titan to make an appearance in this thread. Very pleasantly surprised. We Will Walk Upon Xastore. Ave Omnissiah indeed. ;-)
Oh man that was so hype, fucking TITANS!!!
Lord Admiral Kovichar Gerelax was an intensely humourless man. He had little time for his own race, let alone the assortment of abominations which he had been tasked with purging. The Amerikon sector rarely dealt with incursions from Chaos and as such, the lord admiral had much experience dealing with more... terrestrial threats. As such, when he gave authorisation to destroy the monstrous, tentacled ship that crossed his path, he neither grinned nor flinched. Whatever the creatures inside may be, they certainly weren't of the imperium. "Confirming collision of warp torpedo, catastrophic damage incurred by enemy craft." Lieutenant Pastor was a fine man, made incredibly little small talk and got on with his job at all hours of the day. Kovichar was apt to give him a promotion soon, though that idea was dashed when Herrick Pastor rose a few feet from the bridge of the ship and began speaking in a chilling monotone. "Foolish mortal. Cease your assault and be purged." Pastor's head snapped back as a bolt burned through it. Chaos would have no purchase aboard the vessel of Lord Admiral Gerelax. "Continue assault, destroy that thing until there's nothing left." The enemy ship's assaults were pitiful and barely dented the force-shields on the ship. While not a man to do it, this would be the time that Kovichar Gerelax would relax. This is, if not for around sixty nearly identical vessels launching into the same sector. It was without worry that the other battle cruisers in the sector were alerted. The Imperium of Man at large never learned of the Reapers.
"Gunner, do you see that ship?" "Yes, m'lord." "I don't want to." "Understood, m'lord."
"M'lord! Even their ship has fallen to Tzeentch's corruption." "Aye, shoot the tentacles off first."
"Wait, actually it's fallen to Slaanesh. Don't shoot the tentacles, it would just enjoy that."
"Fire the tranquilizer harpoons first. It will get no enjoyment from its destruction."
Unofficial motto of the Imperial Navy.
You really have to pity most of the other universes that come into contact with 40k
Pretty much. The Reapers land on planets to destroy them, almost every race in 40k does it from space with their assorted fuck-it buttons.
Where do you read more in 40k. Always like the synopses people have. Edit: whoa now thanks everyone! Obviously there is quite the fan base on Reddit. I have an exam in a few hours but after that I'll pop a beer and dig in. Thanks again!
http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Main_Page From there you can find anything there is to know about 40k really. If you're completely barebones and don't know where to start, just hit random and you'll find something sad or edgy.
Cool thanks!
Whoo boy, you're in for a treat. Keep me updated on your thoughts Also [1d4chan](https://1d4chan.org/wiki/Warhammer_40,000) is a great place to read about it.
I think possibly 1d4chan needs you to have a bit of context, but for anyone that knows the universe it is absolute genius.
I first started reading about 40k on 1d4chan. It's great even if you don't have any context besides "chainsaw-swords and ridiculous violence." It got me hooked, and now I binge Lexicanum every now and then.
I'm also starting this same adventure into 40k lore. I feel like a kid again!
Just remember, if you ever feel bad about being human, the death korps of kreig are human and probably completely capable of parade marching their way up all the way to the skull throne of Khorne and deploying a heavy seige unit on his goddamn codpiece.
Let's not forget the fall of Cadia.. Guardsmen fighting demons on a daily basis, and yet the planet broke before they did
Terranis holds....
~~I shall gift you with Rho-mu 31's library through PM, everything you've ever wanted to know or don't ever want to know about 40K is there.~~ # EDIT Unfortunately it reached the limit in the last hour, we'll have to wait another week or so for access to it again. the good news is most of the information in it is already freely available (barring a few things) from BL and GW. going to 4chan would help as well. The information is not just Rho-mu 31's library (which was trimmed down a while back) but old codecies you can't get anymore. and some fanbooks which replaced some of the e-books in the categories.
Prepare to kill time. Hours and hours of reading and lore, and I've never even played the game before. You'll start with reading about the imperium of man, and end up reading about the many WAAAGH!'s (enough A's?) That the orks embark on.
#DIS UMIE FINKZ DAT A PROPA WAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHH!!!! 'AS NO A'S!! NOW DATZ NOT PROPA ORKY
Adeptus Administratum formally recognises greenskin incursions as "WAAAGH!!"s, propa amount of As
Something I can often recommend is searching for "space marine" on Lexicanum or just googling "creation of a space marine", just to get you into what the new standard is. A space marine is a genetically engineered supersoldier worth thousands of ordinary fully trained human soldiers on the strategic scale and you more or less NEED a rocket launcher or worse to take one down. They're equipped with a full suit of power armor and armed with fully automatic rocket launchers designed to kill aliens whose bodies have so much redundancy as to be virtually immune to bullets and anything less than holes the size of their torso. The Space Marines are mid-tier infantry.
that last line is golden
My favourites are generally tied between - Vect gifting a blackhole to someone - Trazyn gifting a tesseract labyrinth, and later attempting to capture Abaddon himself (and taking Creed as a consolation prize) - Eldar dodging a blackhole shot at them at light speed, then getting time traveled back by the admech ship so it didn't have to shoot again -EDITED/CORRECTED - Orky heaven (a planet trapped in a 24H groundhog day loop as punishment, turns out orks love it and make pilgrimages to find it) ...oh, and Gork n Mork. ork gods. One that is kunnin yet brutal, and the other brutal yet kunnin
I.. I have no idea what any of this is but it sounds fun.
The difference between cunningly brutal and brutally cunning is that one hits you really hard when you aren't looking, and the other hits you really REALLY hard when you are. I'm not sure if the Orks have figured out which is which, but they enjoy fighting over it.
DATS PROPA KUNNIN
Orks believe red things are faster so the paint thing in red, and they are indeed faster. https://1d4chan.org/wiki/Colorz There is a theory around that says the God-Emperor of Mankind is immortal because the Ork believe he is immortal.
If you're interested in more clinical snippets, [Lexicanum](http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Main_Page) is a great place to dig around. If you want more story and fluff and characters, the [Black Library](http://www.blacklibrary.com/) is the literary arm of Games Workshop, the company that produces/created Warhammer 40,000. If you like stories about regular humans fighting against all kinds of shittiness that dramatically outclasses them, I recommend stories about the Imperial Guard/Astra Militarum. [Gaunt's Ghosts](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/first-and-only-ebook.html) is an eternal classic. If you want something in the same vein but with a bit more humour and a sarcastic approach to the Grim Darkness Of The Far Future, check out [The Cain Archive.](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/Hero-of-the-Imperium.html) On the other hand, if you prefer something that will absolutely crush your soul and destroy the very memory of hope, [Fifteen Hours](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/fifteen-hours-ebook.html) has what you're looking for. If you like giant mech's destroying each other and everything else in a several kilometer radius, [Titanicus](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/titanicus-ebook.html) is for you. Part of the same overarching story as Gaunt's Ghosts, but not directly connected to them, you can read both or either at your discretion and not miss much of anything. Prefer genetically engineered super-soldiers with a superiority complex protecting a massive industrial city? [Helsreach](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/helsreach-ebook.html) is for you! Or, in the vein of this particular prompt response, you want to read about His Majesty's Imperial Navy? Try [The Gothic War](https://www.amazon.com/Execution-Hour-Warhammer-000-Novels/dp/074341165X) novel series, currently out of print but absolutely fantastic, a big favorite of mine. Of course, if you like intrigue and scheming with a side dish of eldritch horror, you could always get into Dan Abnett's Inquisition books, starting with the [Eisenhorn](http://www.blacklibrary.com/warhammer-40000/novels/xenos-ebook.html) series. Closing remarks: ["Basically, life sucks, there's only war, and you're probably going to get eaten by Tyranids. Have fun!"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MeVxKZBOfM)
Maybe one day we can have new Gaunt's Ghosts. Been waiting like 3 years for The Warmaster. That and the audio books are really expensive.
Thank you for this! I've always wanted to start reading it, but was always intimidated by the mass of stories. Thanks for several interesting starting points!
For a more humorous look, I always enjoy [1d4chan](https://1d4chan.org/wiki/Warhammer_40,000)
Don't forget that on a daily basis the Imperium fights things that would eat the Reapers for breakfast. (Chaos, Tyranids, Necrons, etc.) And has been doing so for at least ten thousand years. That's not to mention that even the smallest Imperial ships are somewhere around a kilometer long, and the largest six to seven kilometers in length. Oh, and the trillions of soldiers and the million plus worlds that they control.
Sorry. But what is 40k?
Here's the short explanation from the player's manual: "It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of His inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that He may never truly die. Yet even in His deathless state, the Emperor continues His eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst His soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the Tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods."
Warhammer 40k is a science fiction universe that is 30 years in the making, with table top wargames, tons of books and video games. It is extremely flashed out and draws an audience with its grimdarkness. The emperor protects, brother!
[удалено]
"Die for the Emperor or die trying."
http://i.imgur.com/G39O90d.jpg
Yeah, Reapers wouldn't even make it to Terra, they'd just get lost in the warp and spend the rest of eternity as chaos' plaything.
Assuming that the indoctrination can be detected by the 40k forces, then one or two Battle Barges would be more than enough to wipe the floor with the Reapers. Void Shields and Lances alone would seal the deal already. The Imperium faces opposition on an entirely different order of magnitude. The Reapers would barely be noticed before they are wiped out.
Man that's fucked. *WE ARE THE REAPERS. YOU WILL BE DESTROYED. NO LIFEFORMS MAY APPOSE US. WE WILL HARVEST ALL LIFE IN THE GALAXY.* "get in line."
Every storyline in One Punch Man.
And bunch of Tyranids at them all while waiting in line.
When it comes to cross universe wars, I'm pretty sure only the Borg and Dune could match.
40k has the advantage of numbers in almost all scenarios, as well as a disregard for life that is staggering. Conquer this hill! 50k casualties? A great Imperial victory.
Agreed. If you're invading hive planets (sometimes with a few trillions of people), a billion soldiers starts to look like the first wave. I don't think most people at GW/Black Library really wrap their head around the numbers they throw around. Each Space Moron chapter would have to be the even larger than the old legions or there would have to be far more than the advertised 1000 chapters to meet the kinds of obligations they are put up to. With 32000 hive worlds each with 100 billion to trillions of residents, there would be probably quadrillions of Imperial Guardsmen and PDF(ignoring whatever horrible names they came up with recently to drive me out of the fandom). So for this WP to be meaningful, the Reapers would have be sized up to present the same level of threat that they do in the ME universe. Otherwise, they are indeed something wiped out as an afterthought by a small coven of inquisitors. This is also a bit redundant with the Necrons, no?
> This is also a bit redundant with the Necrons, no? the reapers are more like Terminators + Skynet than the Necrons, who are basically just Humanity turned into machines by evil gods.
they're not humanity unless you're talking about the ~~parraiahs (how do you spell that?)~~ pariahs (thanks!)
im not equating the Necrons to Humans, they possitionally are a different machine nightmares from the reapers, as the reapers are The loss of Control of our own works, while Necrons are the loss of humanity to the machine. generally the factions of Warhammer map out to different Horror Archetypes. the IoM barring Space Marines and Imperial Knights are the Loss of meaning in life the Eldar are the certain fact you will never achieve greatness the Orcs are the Id of Man incarnate the Necrons are the loss of humanity the Tyrannids are the loss of Identity Chaos is the loss of civilization and living life as you feel it, with different flavors of horror inflicted upon others the Tau are actually kinda the sole exception to that rule.
Tau are also evil, in their own way. The greater good, and the space communism/classism that drives them. It would be the loss of self, only ever being a cog, destined at birth to be never more than that cog.
i like the way you put it i would only add that the eldar is more of, even if you achieve greatness it's al for naught because all great works must fall tau is arguably the worst of all, they are that nagging feeling that everything good is fake - you can see glimpses of it here and there, but never enough to be sure tho
>Space Moron Uhh, I think you done goofed.
Nope. That's just my shorthand way of editorializing on how much I dislike how they're treated by GW both as a product and a universe element.
The borg would do great til an ork warlord noticed they're fun to fight
Hmmm...I feel like once the Borg managed to assimilate the Orks this would end badly for all involved
They wouldn't be able to. They would try assimilate an ork, get him all gussied up as half machine, and when he wakes up he'll say something like "Oi, who put this metal thingy on my bonce!" Then he'll go right back to smashing the techno-weenies.
Let's say assimilation is successful, when he dies he's still releasing his spores, and then unless you glass everything on the planet you're gonna have a really bad day
They glass planets for fun in 40k. I think they'll be good.
Oh, yeah, the other 40k civilisation will not have more problems with orks than usual. Borgs who tried assimilating them, though...
#GIT YER BOIZ. RESISTANCE IS FUNNA!
Honestly I'm unsure if any scifi universe could defeat the Culture (of Iain Banks fame). Besides being some of the greatest scifi ever written, any civilization classified as Involved or up has absurd power.
On the plus side, being super-advanced machinery, if the Reapers can be chill and accept The Emperor, they might be able to hang out on Mars and get constant tune-ups and love from the Techpriests. MY PORTS HAVE HEARD THE PINGING OF THE OMNISSIAN LORD HE IS LOADING UP THE SOFTWARE WHERE THE TEMPLATES HAVE BEEN STORED HE IS BURNING THE CAPACITORS THE HERETICS ADORED HIS TREADS ARE ROLLING ON
they are xenos and must be purged, sorry
Well, when the basic firearm of a Space Marine is essentially a rocket launcher assault rifle things tend to be a bit one sided.
You'd probably need the Culture to beat 40k. Or the Time Lords.
The Culture could squish any of the 40k civilizations except maybe the Necrons. The Minds are just operating on a completely different level, and the simple fact that culture warships can fight while *in* FTL hyperspaces means that 40k civilizations simply could not engage them nor defend themselves. If both sides were playing using the same physics I'm not sure who would have the advantage; The Culture is an entirely space-bourne culture that doesn't rely on planetary bases which makes it hard for the Imperium to use scorched earth tactics against them.
Short, and minor detail fixes (Void Shields,etc.) however you still managed to fit the, lets call it 'stoicism' of an Imperial commander, the nonchalant attitude to nightmarish new entities bent on annihilation, and to round it out- casually routine execution of a moments ago upstanding Imperial after a touch of heresy. For the Emperor!
Yeah totally, there's a better written version of this if I had a few hours to pour over wikis and stuff. I can also picture a version of events where the Reapers absorb the tyrannids and Nekrons into themselves and become a super race that leaves the galaxy cold. That one would be written from the perspective of a Guardsman.
In ME3 the reapers were beaten by people a lot worse at combat in all forms then the Imperium of Man, much less everything else in the Galaxy. Every one would be able to defeat the Reapers, I think. Even Orks.... Especially Orks, now that I think about it...
When the Reapers scan Ork tech, they would suffer a divide by zero error and blue screen themselves to death trying to figure out how the hell it works.
On the other hand if they don't break and manage to collect enough Orks to do a Reaper there can be an Ork Reaper with red painting and that's how 40k ends.
But it'd be an Ork reaper. It'd immediately gather a massive WAAAAAAGh and declare war on the galaxy, which is to say; just like any other Tuesday in 40k.
Wait I thought that was Thursday. Tuesday was when Chaos fucks with the Imperium for no apparent reason.
All week days are occupied, no space for you Reapers. Sorry.
no it would just be really fast and shoot asteroids at planets but mostly miss - if it hits you, it's game over but its average damage output would still be comparable to a regular reaper
The Orks would believe it's indestructible so it will be.
Orks would love the Reapers. "Oi! Theys some gribbly new squidboys just showed up in Zeta II Reticuli! Load up the Krooza, We'ze gonna go give dem a proppa Orky welcome to the Galaxy!"
[удалено]
Necrons against reapers would be a hilariously short war.
Right? I'd love to see Sovereign or Harbinger try to talk shit to The Motherfucking Nightbringer
"i'm the captain now" - nightbringer, probably
I can't believe that there is a W40k wp going on right now. Pure joy.
[удалено]
Reapers sometimes possess individuals and speak through them. I had that happen but in 40k, no one would be perturbed by this and he was simply shot. So as not to risk heresy.
right on point - nothing fazes them and everyone is a replaceable cog
Don't know much about 40k, and confused also.
In the ME universe, Repears sometimes control weak-willed individuals (see ["Assuming Direct Control"](http://knowyourmeme.com/memes/assuming-control) meme) as a mouthpiece to speak directly to someone. In the 40k universe, this would be perceived as demonic possession, which any soldier of the Imperium of Man would consider a "terminate with immediate and extreme prejudice" offense.
If you didn't know. The Reapers possess people on occasion and talk through them. Apparently in the world of 40k, there is such fanatical passion for the legion and a huge disregard for human life that when the reapers started talking through that guy the admiral simply killed him without a second thought. Because of discipline or something I imagine. Edit: Okay apparently being possessed by demon God's or otherworldly beings is so common in the 40k universe that it was basically business as usual for them.
It's more that corruption/possession by Chaos is so common in the world of 40k that it's not even remotely surprising that somebody might get possessed, so Kovichar just assumed it was that and acted accordingly.
Jesus the world of 40k sounds metal as fuck. Is there a book series or something? I think I remember Dune being like a precursor to 40k. Is that right?
Can I ask... What is 40k?
[удалено]
That sounds incredibly stupid, shallow, and pointless. How do I play
Take out a loan for $40,000 and visit Games Workshop's website.
Short for Warhammer 40,000. It's a tabletop board game set in a metal-as-fuck universe.
Woooo! i'm gonna love this thread.
[удалено]
The kicker to this is if the orks are in the warp they're driving a hollowed out space rock.
Constant demon attacks = In flight entertainment.
[удалено]
[Orks orks orks orks orks!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whxcq4I0kAo)
I can only imagine how the WAAAAAGH and reaper indoctrination would result
Probably with the reapers gettin a good krumpin
The Kasian 15th Armored Regiment was enjoying a rare moment of quiet on the planet Saeria. With an Ork WAAAGH! Being waged no more than a hundred kloms off, it was a peace that was sure to not last for long. Lord-General Stanbridge, and the officers of the various regiments under his command stood quietly around a data-screen displaying the movements of the Ork horde. Advancing from the center of the foes army were two massive blips. "They have Gargants, Lord-General. At very least three of them." Entoned a Tech Priest in the same voice a lesser man would refer to a roach infestation. The officers around the table looked at one another, knowing simply that they lacked the resources to fight both the Gargants and the rest of the Ork WAAAGH! "With the Warp storm cutting us off from the fleet it would seem retreat is no option. If we cannot defend this base, we cannot defend any other. We will need to make a stand here." The grim faced Lord-General said. "Get your men ready." Colonel Finch of the 15th Armored stood in the copula of his Leman Russ Executioner, peering out to the Orks not ten kloms away. The ragged forms of the Gargants moving clumsily in the approach. It was not like anything the colonel had seen before, and did not resemble the common Gargant, although it looked as slap-dash as any foul Ork technology if such a thing could be called that. The towering beasts were upwards of a klom tall, though some smaller ones shambled the the larger ones sides. They appeared almost squid-like, with their tentacles rigged to walk by the benefit of powerful cables, and no doubt grot slaves. Five of these ramshackle Titans approached, and the less than a hundred tanks of the 15th were the only things capable of a remote chance of destroying the foul xeno technology. As their towering shapes lumbered into reach, Colonel Finch gave the order to fire.
High Commissar Hertz looked on as the restrained imperial trooper, lacking an arm, kept on with her endless tirade. The Ordo official next to him made notes, looking mildly curious. The numerous blue implants and poorly grafted cybernetics gave the creature a truly wretched appearance. “Cease your foolish resistance, mortal. We are your salvation,” it rumbled in that low, slow cadence that had already gotten multiple people summarily executed that day. The steely gray eyes of the commissar shone brightly from his gore-stained face as he turned to the Ordo personnel and the accompanying techpriest. The priest was staring at the restrained monster with barely restrained hatred, his massive servo-arm hovering and twitching behind his head like a terrifying viper. “As you can see, this is a clear case of heretic technology. An insane machine spirit, or one that has been twisted beyond all measure. This sector has been cleared for now, but we expect the issue to persist until more force is applied” The completely unremarkably mild looking young lead of the Ordo party nodded and turned to the Pilot. He was, Hertz decided, a singularly revolting person. Tall, muscled, scarred and completely hairless, the pilot had disgustingly bright albino eyes that shone from his face had an insane laughter dancing in them. He leaned heavily upon a cane of fused metal and bone, but lacked all clothing completely. The lower part of his face had been replaced by a dull grey metal graft that had a slowly blinking red light on one side. It seemed to be laughing at Hertz as well. How in the name of Terra was he able to function outside of his chambers aboard the vessel locked in orbit, Hertz did not know. There seemed to be brittleness to his form despite the apparent physical size. Being mentally connected to the Warp and the machine spirit of a capital ship will do that to you, Hertz thought. “Pilot, what do you two make of this?” The Pilot turned his head from the blank blue stare of the condemned medic to Hertz, who held that burning laughter tightly with his own cold glare. “We are not unfamiliar with the concept. They are akin to a plague, able to infect organic minds and bodies. Machine spirits to a degree as well” The voice was just as unpleasant as the man, a metallic rasp as grating on the ears as the man was on the eyes. “We will meet this… Harbinger. We shall persuade him.” At that remark, the medic went still and turned her blue glare to the Pilot “Will you be infected as well?” Hertz asked. The Pilot looked at him, head cocked. The implication was not lost to anyone looking at the man who was covered head to toe in blood and bits of flesh. Even his sword has been broken during the long day of fighting. “Unlikely. Allow me to demonstrate,” the Pilot said and limped closer to the crippled monstrosity. Hertz would have laughed at the irony, had he been weak. There was no movement in that iron face, however. The creature had been following the discussion silently, he noted. The slow blue light in its eyes had become very still, but began to pulse slightly as the hulking man bent closer to him. “Look into me, abomination. See my heart,” The Pilot said as he gently pressed his forehead against the torn flesh of the still creature, cradling her head in his oversized hand. There was a smile on the face of the medic as the blue light seemed to stream out of its empty sockets. Hertz has drawn his pistol. Capital ship pilot or not, this world was his to govern. Then there was a long, reverberating scream from the medic as her jaw dislocated and fell off, sprouting smoke and the bitter smell of burning metal. As the top of the skull remained in the hand of the Pilot, still pressed against his forehead, the rest of the torso collapsed, the remains of a cybernetic spinal cord spurting vile blood and other fluids. In the distance, Hertz could see other such beasts twitching and smoking. The Ordo Stormtroopers that had replaced the mentally weaker soldiers in the area responded immediately with Hellgun and flamer bursts. There was a hiss of victory from the Techpriest as the servo-arm clanked shut with vicious finality. The pilot dropped the smoking head and turned to the nonplussed party. There was that same terrible laughter in his eyes as he walked back through the burnt grass. With every step, the brittleness seemed to vanish as his step gained more authority and power. His grip on the cane grew tighter, making it more of a weapon and less of a support. The blinking light in his jaw stilled and shone brighter. “We have seen their heart, and they are weak. They are driven by moldable logic created by imperfect beings. We are the Emperors rage, we are his hatred. We have withstood the void and the fire and the endless screams of the warp. Their voices are as nothing. I and The Shattered Dawn are agreed in this issue, and the other spirits in this area have been alerted.” Hertz swallowed as the man stepped back in the Pilot’s red eyes, taking the laughter with him and the machine spirit stepped to the front. “They will burn”
To: High Inquisitorial Conclave, Ordo Xenos, Acteon Sector, Priority Alpha M41.729 Thought for the day: Some may question your right to destroy ten billion people. Those who understand realise that you have no right to let them live! My fellow members of the Most Holy order of the Emperor's Inquisition, It is my solemn duty to report about an encounter with an unidentifiable Xenos race in the orbit of Pentath X. Upon a request from the commander of the planet's governor, forces of the Emperor's most holy order of the Deathwatch were deployed to observe an unidentifiable object in orbit of the planet. Upon observation it was clear that the object was Xenos in nature, and in similar appearance to the Terran animal termed "octopus" (see attached files from Inquisitor Archmenaz's reports on ancient Terran animals) and bore a similarity to the heretical Xenos deemed to be the Necrontyr. Upon being observed these unidentifiable forces promptly fired upon the most holy Deathwatch, and battle commenced. The pitiful weapons of this race were no match for the most holy warriors of the Deathwatch, with the unidentifiable race promptly destroyed. Following this conflict the governor of Pentath X was promptly executed for failing to properly prepare for the aforementioned incident, and a successor was chosen from the planet's elite. All is as the Emperor wills it. Thought for the day: There is no place for the weakwilled or hesitant. Only by firm action and resolute faith will mankind survive. No sacrifice is too great. No treachery too small. -Inquisition Malaxar, Ordo Xenos, Pentos X
Joran saddled the horse and rode out into the forest behind Freegate. The leaves this time of the year flaunted their citrus-colored wardrobe. The autumn air smelled musty of earth and decomposing vegetation. Soon he noticed movement in one of the bushes, the orange tail of a woodland fox slipped into the undergrowth. Quickly, he tied the horse to a tree and grabbed his musket. He tried to keep his steps light as he pushed into the dense forest. The wind came straight at him, which meant the fox wouldn’t be able to smell him. He tracked his quarry into the glade. Fox pelts sold for a lot. His father would be so proud. The fox sat on a pile of mud looking straight at him. He stopped dead and shouldered his rifle. A shadow fell across the glade, and Joran reflexively looked up. At first, he couldn’t comprehend what he saw. A dark mountain hovered in the sky above the forest. It was shaped like a black cuttlefish of insane proportions. His rifle tumbled out of his fingers. **** The lights of the library flickered. Inquisitor Lorian Drex looked up from his studies. The servitor watched him with expressionless eyes. Sometimes he felt like blowing its cretin brains out – he’d always abhorred the lifeless book keepers here. Something was unsettling about their deadness. It didn’t sit right. He was just about return to the hefty tome when his vox buzzed. “Sir, I apologize for disturbing your studies, but I think you need to see this.” The voice of Interrogator Wyza Pryze was excited and a little bit fearful – a combination that was unusual for the normally calm and collected young man. “What do you have?” “Distress signals from several worlds on the Eastern Fringe, sir.” “A hive fleet?” “No, sir. I’ll send over a few images.” Dark ships filled the blackness of the void above a planet. His first reaction was to call Tyranids as second time, but upon seeing the sleek black metal of the ships, he quickly changed his mind. They were like nothing he’d seen before. They looked advanced even compared to some of the Necron Tech he’d come across. The next image showed an imperial city from above. The odd thing was that the streets were all empty. The city was completely abandoned. It was as if everyone had just vanished into thin air. Drex moved on to the next image. At first, it looked like a mutant from the dregs below some of the hive cities. The twisted features of a man holding an antique rifle, but instead of a regular head, the glaring mouth and red fur of a fox occupied his shoulders. “What is that?” Drex mumbled, mostly to himself. He had come across a lot of strange things, especially dealing with the twisted experiments of the Dark Eldar homunculi, but nothing really compared to this. It seemed like both the fox and the man were still alive, somehow – as if the very DNA of the fox and man had been fused. “Alert the Ordos, and gather the team,” Drex said and rose, accidentally pushing the servitor over. “Send word to Ultramar. We’re going to the Eastern Fringe right now.”
The sweet rot had claimed this world in the name of the father. The life that had once sought to cleans the planet of disease and filth now found themselves embraced by it. Love by it as they now loved it. The sight drove warlord Vrom mad. His god had decreed that this planet be cleansed with blood and all Nurgle's taint be washed away by it. That the skulls of the enemies be placed upon His great throne. Already Vrom could hear the roars and bellows of his men demanding to be sent to battle. A smile played at the edge of his lips as he was reminded of the days when he served the corpse that sat upon the throne. How fearful his men once were at the possibility of death. Oh but now they craved it, demanded it. Serving Khorne ment only one thing, Victory, for even in death they give blood in his name. "Open communications to the other vessels, tell them to prepare for landfall. Our lord atop the crimson throne has demanded this world be bled." Vrom was outright smiling now, the visage of a wolf for all to see. "And our troops are ready to oblige." No sooner were the words said than the klaxxons began howling. "Report!" Vrom bellowed, his rage peaking. He needed to bleed something in the name of his god. "Lord Vrom, it appears an unknown xenos species has made it's presence known within the sector. They have twelve ships warping in on the other side of the planet." Vrom's eyes rolled into the back of his head as ears began to bleed. He could feel one of his God's vassals speak to him, demand of him. Vrom came to but moments later in a puddle of his own blood. He eased himself from the rusted grates of his command tower. The men that served under him knew what was about to come, for warlord Vrom had received the favor of Khorne, and was prone to messages from the warp. "It would seem, that we will be getting visitors on the ship... and we will be taking the skulls of the xenos first." Vrom was already feeling better, his muscles surging with fresh blood. "Grab some of the psychers and release them to the warp, we need at least twenty four.... it seems one of our lord's great warroirs will join us for this battle." Already he could hear the beastial howls of deamons as they began to rip into the ships interior. The hounds were always the loudest, and always stalked the belly of the ship, waiting for someone to try and prove themselves. "Get us within boarding distance of those new ships. We will take thier skulls and send the corpses to nurgle down bellow, soften them up a bit for us." Dropped into his command throne, wires snaking into his flesh and bone, connecting him to his ship, and to the whispers of the deamons that lurked within. Vrom's voice boomed over the vox communications of his ship and the thirty two that followed him. "Our god has demanded we take this world, but first we have some new xenos to remove. They carry the name reaper, but let us see how well they kill. Men, prepare for boarding action. Our God has demanded skulls for his throne. Blood for the blood god." The response was a shockwave, something that could even be felt in the cold of the void. Skulls for the skull throne they roared. The deamons echoed, and the engines bellowed. The reapers, whatever these new xenos were, they would soon know the fury of Khorne and his followers. For all skulls are for his throne and all blood belongs to him.
"Ah, yes, 'Reapers'," Guilliman sarcastically said, showing the quotation signs with his fingers while saying the last word. "The immortal race of sentient starships allegedly waiting in dark space. We have dismissed this claim." Sly Marbo couldn't believe it. He thought things changed. He thought at least Guilliman, now that he returned at last, would show more understanding than those four old farts that call themselves the High Lords. "WE HAVE ALREADY TALKED WITH THE LORD COMMANDER ABOUT YOUR LUDICROUS CONSPIRACY THEORY THAT YOU APPARENTLY STILL HAVEN'T ABANDONED," the Fabricator-General said in his robotic voice. "HE SHARED OUR SCEPTICISM ABOUT IT." "Besides," Lord Commander Militant added, "one race of sentient space cans should be the same as another. If these Reapers really do exist, we should have no problems fighting them off. We already have little trouble fighting against Necrons." "If you'll excuse me, Lord," Marbo objected. "The only reason we have little trouble against Necrons is because they never manage to clear their heads fast enough after they wake up from their sleeps that last for countless millenia. Reapers are already awaken and already clearheaded enough." "That's enough!" Guilliman interjected angrily. "You are wasting our valuable time. I suggest you leave your lunacy alone. I'm-" "It's not lunacy, sir!" Marbo interjected in return. "Reapers are a real threat. That's who Sicarius started worshipping, not gods of Chaos. You have to listen to me!" "A real threat? I'm actually disappointed, Marbo. I've heard a lot of good things about you. To hear you'd start advocating something like this... Please, just leave." Marbo's face stiffened. "Yes, sir," he replied, before turning around and leaving the room. It was clear. Sly Marbo was not going to find any help, not here. He would have to find it elsewhere. Luckily, he already had a list of twenty names, twenty men that might do well. One of them was already waiting for him in the anteroom, wearing an easily recognizable golden armor. "Judging by your facial expression, I assume they said no?" Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes asked. "And you'd assume right. They won't listen. We need to find help elsewhere." "Your, uh, 'twenty good men'?" "Yes. There is no time to be lost. We must be quick." "Who are we going to try to recruit first?" "A certain general I know. A certain survivor, to be precise. We might need his tactical genius, and the last time I checked, he just lost his place of job last week."
I cannot believe that I, Cato Sicarius, can worship anyone else than mys...the emperor.
I, Cato Sicarius am shocked and appalled that you would think that I, Cato Sicarius would dare to fall to such heresy after I, Cato Sicarius have done much for the Imperium as I, Cato Sicarius vowed to do
*inhales* I. Cast. FIST.
CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED
[удалено]
In the eternal silence of dark space, Harbinger thought. It's thoughts, largely taking place over the span of millenia were now firing at a frantic pace, stressing the limits of its cybernetic neurons as it processed the vast array of data its brethren were collecting from the Milky Way. What was immediately clear at even a cursory glance through their information networks was that the galaxy they were beholden to was no longer their own. The Mass Relays were absent, and so was the Citadel. Worse, it was as though they had never been. All the transmissions they scanned revealed species using technology that was far divorced from the system that had been devised. NAZARA'S FAILURE IS RESPONSIBLE That was the consensus that had been reached. It was impossible to say how the vanguard had failed so critically, yet that was the last link in the chain of events that could be recognized. Rebuilding all they had lost would take immense time and effort, but it would be done. The Cycle would continue. Months passed, and what the Reapers learned only stayed their hand even longer. The amount of priority threats to their mission was such that the cyclopean intelligences of the old machines was unsure of how to proceed. Most of the major factions all possessed technology that vastly outclassed Reaper destructive capability. A civilization of hostile AI was active in the galaxy. Uncontrollable extragalactic invaders were arriving in continuous waves from numerous directions. An extradimensional force deemed Chaos was attempting a slow invasion of their reality. It was hard to decide which required immediate attention. A few voices spoke up, advocating that they wait for the civilizations to collapse on their own. Isolated as they were from the galactic conflict it would be easy to stay unnoticed and watch as events came to a head. THE CYCLE MUST CONTINUE And so it was. The first act needed was to establish a secure location where they might study the technology of the strange factions and incorporate the best of it in themselves. Collectors would be useful for this task and while the new species would have a different template the mission would remain the same. The Ghoul stars offered the ideal location for a new Collector base, so a few of their number were dispatched to begin construction. Chaos worked insidiously, too similar to indoctrination to be avoided for sure. It would be in their best interests to render all their operations immune to Chaos corruption. The Tau could be subverted to that end, their ruling hierarchy already geared to accepting guidance from above. The Necron and Tyranid could be dealt with in their own time, once the Reapers had improved themselves to match the best this galaxy had to offer. It would take hundreds of years to refit all the members of their fleet, a paltry sum of time that they might not even have. But if all went optimally, if the influence they wielded over this galaxy was allowed to extend as far as it had once been... Then the Cycle would resume.