Post by ElegaicRequiem on Jul 2, 2009 20:09:26 GMT -5
Okay, so... here's a sit-rep from the middle of nowhere: Myself, Envoy, and the Ministry's primarch are stranded in the doldrums of space. There seems to be some phenomena at work, as the navigators and FTL drives (whatever they're called in 40K) are comatose and non-functional, respectively. There's a planetary system nearby, so we're going to go investigate it. My pants sense is tingling, however.
*As we achieved orbit over the lump of sand that was this planet, I ordered the bridge in general to get me the name of this dirtball. After a moment I was informed that it was not on the astrogation maps. Preposterous. After a quick scan of the surface, the life sensors revealed that the planet was unihabited, but that there appeared to be some sort of structures on the surface.*
Envoy, get a squad together and lets investigate those ruins.
*I left the Primarch in charge up here. I'd have to think of a good name for him later... As I was about to leave the bridge, I heard an alert klaxon. The readings on the planet had changed from 'uninhabited' to 'uninhibited!' There were pants heretics down there. Then the return indicated there were automata as well!*
Never wrong, those pants senses. Envoy, we've got trouble. It could be the machinations of ymmot. Prepare for use of prejudicial force.
*And with that, I rallied a squad of pantsmandos, two squads of trouser troops, and a squad of disaster pants. I called ahead on the comm, and dispatched a squad of pantachute volunteer scouts to secure the area before Envoy and I arrived. This was turning out to be a good day after all...*
You... me... my basement...
May 31, 2010 15:13:05 GMT -5 Makarova said: Shut up and get in his basement.
Comic releif huh? IS THAT ALL I AM TO YOU? *Runs off crying*
Of course that's not all. There, there... you have some crazy off the wall ideas that I would never have. The Ministry needs you, Hetlan. All our members are irreplaceable.
You're sound words have reassured me that I ,Master-Captain Vesuvius Hetlan, have chosen the right side in this battle with the most hated foe. Breakfast Brigade MARCH! Nice Things Marines load your shotguns and pistols Revv your chainswords. For we go to battle whence I next post. For The Emporer. For Panted freedom Everywhere! We fight and die so somewhere a child doesn't have to go to bed without pants or run to school late because they were searching for thos shorts that were a taken away by the Dark Lord Ymmot! We die so that Storm troopers may go into battle aided by only the finest legging-based armour.
LONG LIVE MY LORD WHO SITS UPON THE GOLDEN THRONE WHILE WEARING ONLY THE MOST BLESSED OF LEGGINGS. LONG LIVE THOSE WHO GO OUT OF THEIR WAY EACH DAY TO PUT ON PANTS! For those who are about to die! I salute you!
Post by ElegaicRequiem on Jul 7, 2009 12:12:33 GMT -5
*As our landers made planetfall near the ruins, I voxed Envoy and told him to have his ship make an accelerated orbit, so we could have visual recon on the rest of this rock. I voxed my vessel, and ordered some heavy support to stand by for backup.
The broken buildings that greated us on arrival were... colorful. The material was basic rockcrete, but had been painted with bright colors, and strangest of all - they had no apparent defenses. The pantachutes appeared from behind some pieces of roofing, and gave the report; there were what appeared to be servitors milling about. These ruins had access hatches to underground catacombs, likely where the people were living. Living in heretical wantonness, I thought. The hatches had a distinctive bullet shape with three black spots arranged in an inverted triangle.
I ordered three squads of pantsnaughts to come down and hold the surface while we took our infantry forces to cleanse these pitiful wretches. They had obviously been led astray by ymmot's twisted social engineering experiments. We would help them find peace in this harsh universe...
We created a roughly circular perimeter around the 'servitor convention.' Those things creeped me out - mindless robots. You never knew just how mindless they really were... The disaster pants and pantsmandos opened fire, and for a few moments an overwhelming cacophony and an argent light filled the area. Then there were no more machine people. Good. We finished just in time for the pantsnaughts to land.
Now it was time to go underground, and rescue these poor souls. All our weapons were primed and ready.*
Post by Rolling Thunder on Jul 7, 2009 12:17:29 GMT -5
"All of them?" asked Rolling Thunder, stepping out from behind a concealling rock. His attire was the same, save that his overcoat of blackest night had been replaced by an overcoat, of the same style and manufacture, but in swirling colours to better camouflage it against the halycon landscape. He appeared to be perfectly sober, but that meant nothing.
Post by Rolling Thunder on Jul 7, 2009 13:16:37 GMT -5
Rolling Thunder shrugged, as if to indicate that the workings of the Galaxy were none of his concern.
"I simply walked, dear fellow, simply walked. Ymmot had a couple of webway tunnels in his base. Picked this" he said, gesturing to the coat, "up in Corrmoragh. They tried to enslave me, silly chaps. Of course, when I flattened a bit of their city they stopped fighting."