The dig
Colonel Silas stood atop his tank staring into the endless desert stretched out before him, squinting as the wind whipped up a wisp of sand. It was the seventeenth day now since they had deployed to this forsaken rock, seventeen days since the Techpriests had begun searching for their prize. Their deployment to the surface of Angora had been unusual in that no gargantuan Imperial Navy vessel waited in orbit; the Techpriest’s ship itself had touched down on the planet. It was perhaps twice the size of an Imperial Tetrarch heavy lander; large enough to bear the entire armoured task force, the Techpriests themselves, their peons and equipment. It served now as the Techpriest’s centre of operations, from which they conducted their experiments and studied seismic data gathered in the field.
Imperial records are sketchy at best, but concerning Angora there was
nothing. Every data slab he had seen that made reference to the barren rock upon which he stood merely described it as a desert world bereft of life or potential. Gazing out into the far reaching wasteland, Silas knew that this was an accurate account of Angora’s current state, but what of the ancient city ruins within which he and his men were stationed? There had been life here once, many eons ago, but something happened to it that the Imperium would not speak of. Perhaps it was mere curiosity that drove him, or perhaps a natural instinct to better understand what he was sending his men into, but Silas had not settled for the ‘official’ records and had taken steps to investigate the Adeptus Mechanicus’ interest in the planet. He had secretly approached one of his most trusted field workshop Lieutenants and requested a unique modification to one of the servitors. He had it fitted with recording equipment and sent to infiltrate the Techpriest’s enclave. The Techpriests and archaeologists themselves were so wrapped up in their studies that they didn’t notice a new mechanical addition milling about. Amongst all the other cybernetic aides they had brought with them to the planet’s surface, they probably wouldn’t have recognised it as an intruder anyway, each Techpriest merely passing it off as someone else’s personal assistant; such automatons were commonplace.
Upon the servitor’s return, Colonel Silas and Lieutenant Perry had played back the recordings. There was much to sift though and little hard data, but the visual and audio recordings themselves showed many instances of the Adeptus Mechanicus ‘higher-ups’ poring over holographic seismic charts and thermal imagery taken from orbit. As the blurry holographic playback continued it became apparent that, before the heresy, Angora had been a lush and fertile world with many magnificent cities.
Science had been the principle tithe here, and much was owed to Angora’s scientists for their advancements in warp travel. But at the peak of the Horus heresy, something happened here that had brought ruin. The exact nature of the catastrophe was unclear; all that was provided was a second generation audio snippet of a broken man burbling about ‘that which they awakened’.
As the recordings continued it became apparent that the devastation wrought upon the planet was by the hand of the Imperium itself; one of the earliest instances of exterminatus. This world had been scoured by orbital virus bombardment over ten thousand years ago for reasons that were ambiguous at best. From what he and the Lieutenant could discern, the Techpriests were looking for an underground lab somewhere beneath the city that held secrets long forgotten to the Imperium, secrets that were perhaps
best forgotten.
Silas stood on the deck of his Vanquisher, watching the sun rise in the south. He hadn’t slept since learning of the Techpriest’s agenda last night. Now dawn was upon them and he had come to the conclusion that he had no alternative but to follow his orders. The mission was low profile, but had come from high authority from within the Adeptus Mechanicus. What choice did he have? He could either baby-sit the Techpriests until the conclusion of their search, however it may end; or he could confront their leader and risk being executed or marooned on the planet’s surface. He had no desire for his men to be branded as traitors and abandoned to death on a backwater planet, so he could only hope they did not find what they were looking for, because in his gut, he knew it could only spell disaster.
‘Sir, your presence is urgently required in the command post.’ Lieutenant Harris called, breaking his concentration. ‘Captain McGanner of the Imperial Fists requests an audience with you.’
‘The Imperial Fists?’ Silas replied, with a quizzical look on his face, ‘They’re here?’ The Colonel jumped down from the deck of his vehicle onto the sponson below, then dropped down to the ground and made his way quickly to the command post. As he made his way through the encampment, he passed behind the Baneblade ‘Dauntless Fury’, one of two attached to the task force. The other, dubbed ‘End of Days’ by her crew and commanded by Commissar Hroth, was located at an outpost some way to the east, along with much of third company. Half the crew of Dauntless Fury stood atop her armoured hull, while the remainder sat beneath a makeshift canvas shelter below. Only the vehicle’s commander, Major Kyreen, remained in full uniform; his crew had stripped down to various states of dress. All had downed tools and were evidently gawking at the Space Marine Land Raider that had arrived a few minutes ago. It amused Silas that the crew of a mighty Baneblade would be so impressed by another armoured vehicle.
Harris paused outside the field command post, saluted curtly and went about his business. Silas pushed through the canvas door and there in the centre of the tent, with his back to the Colonel, stood an eight foot giant of a man adorned in ornate, bright-yellow armour, bearing the symbol of the Imperial Fists. He was cloaked in what appeared to be a heavy brown bear pelt that swayed wearily as the Space Marine turned to face him. It was the first time Silas had ever laid eyes on one of the Emperor’s finest, and all that he had heard of their stature was true. Clutching a menacing looking helmet underarm, the Space Marine stroked his thick black beard and examined the Colonel for a moment before addressing him in a booming, gravely voice.
‘I am Captain McGanner of the Imperial Fists second company. You command the armoured contingent here?’
‘Yes, my lord…although our operations here fall firmly under the purview of the Adeptus Mechanicus.’
‘Mmmm…’ The Captain growled turning away, drumming his fingers on the rim of his helmet, ‘I have had dealings with the Techpriests here on Angora. They are stubborn and will heed no warnings, nor reasoning.’
‘My lord?’
‘You and your men find yourselves in over your head, Colonel. This world was not scoured ten thousand years ago without good reason.’ He declared, gesturing at the orbital photos arrayed about the tent, ‘I fear the Techpriests would rekindle the dark forces that incurred such wrath, and we cannot allow that which they seek to slip through our fingers.’ The Captain turned to face him once more.
‘What do you propose, my Lord?’
‘The Techpriests must be stopped by force, in such a way as to send a message to any that would seek to continue their work here.’ McGanner paused, examining the Colonel’s reaction, ‘Your men need not be swept away in the process, Colonel. Stand with us, or stand aside, I care not which. But if you bar our way, you will be destroyed.’
Colonel Silas was unperturbed. Considering his reply for a moment he fixed his gaze on the Space Marine, ‘And what then my lord?’ He asked, having decided what his answer would be, ‘When we return unharmed and the Techpriests we were tasked to protect do not, how then will the Imperium see us? I will not live out the rest of my days in exile, hunted as a traitor, to be subjected to unspeakable torture at the hands of the Inquisition. And I will not ask that of my men.’ Silas stared into the Space Marine’s eyes in the dim fluorescent light of the command post, they were cold and resolute, but frustration lingered there also.
Captain McGanner turned to the table next to him and placed his helmet next to the vox set, resting one hand atop the bulky construct and leaning heavily on the table with the other as he swept his gaze across the various callsign matrices and crew rosters.
‘I have seen much of the galaxy, and fought the enemies of the Imperium for longer than you have drawn breath. I have seen mortal men face unspeakable horrors and prevail, holding out against all odds and overcoming that which you would think impossible by the merit of their very
will. But for all the strength of mankind, we have not unity.’ The Captain closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, ‘The scattered Craftworlds of the Eldar may bear a dying race, but they fight as one. The ever expanding Tau Empire sees only the greater good and bends its every resource to a common purpose. Even the wretched Tyranid hive fleets move with singular vision, yet here we are, poised to destroy one another. Our enemies are legion against us and
yet do we fight among ourselves.’ A silence hung in the air for a moment as the Colonel considered the Space Marine’s words.
‘Not by your will or mine, my lord.’ Silas offered, ‘Ever shall lesser men be commanded unto their death by fools concerned only with their own selfish whim. The arrogance of man will be its undoing.’
McGanner regarded the Imperial commander opposite him. Colonel Silas was not one of the arrogant men of which he spoke; he knew well what would become of his men and he had no delusions of grandeur.
After an extended silence, McGanner spoke; ‘Survivors shall be offered what treatment we have at our disposal, and the Emperor’s mercy shall be granted to those beyond the reach of medicine.’ He turned and swept his helmet up off the table before continuing, ‘But my men shall offer no quarter in battle. Not lightly do we commit ourselves to combat, but woes betide those that oppose us.’
‘Do as you will, Captain. My men and I will meet you in battle if we must, though I dare say you may find us a hardier folk than you give us credit.’ Silas replied. Though a forlorn acceptance marred his conscious thought, his voice remained firm and his expression resolute. McGanner simply nodded and swept out of the tent, ducking low through the door. He paused on the other side and looked back at the Colonel.
‘May the Emperor have mercy on your souls.’ With that, he stalked off towards his Land Raider and waiting honour guard.
‘Sir?’ Lieutenant Harris reappeared at the Colonel’s side as he emerged from the tent, ‘Would it be impertinent of me to ask?’
Silas continued to stare after the Space Marine Captain as he boarded his transport, ‘Nothing good Harris.’ He turned to re-enter the tent and paused, placing a hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder, ‘Gather the men.’
| Valoran 31st brief | Imperial Fists brief |
| We have received orders to return immediately to the excavation site to regroup with the main body of the regiment in preparation for a possible attack from loyalist Space Marine forces which have seen fit to terminate the activities of the Techpriests on site. There is a lot of ground to cover and we are to expect resistance. Do not hestitate to open fire upon sighting the enemy. Give no quarter...for you shall receive none. | Task force Dagmar is to move with all haste to intercept the over-extended Valoran tank detachment to the east of the excavation site before they can rendezvous with their counterparts at the landing zone. Terminator squad 'Krull' will be prepared to deploy via teleportation to engage in close action once the detachment has been intercepted and disrupted. Divide and conquer. Destroy the detachment utterly and regroup in preparation for the main assault. |
Scenario Special RulesReserves, victory points, random game length.
Mission objectivesIn addition to points scored for destroying enemy units, the Valorans may also score points equal to the value of any unit that is able to escape off the opposite long edge of the table. The Imperial Fists may only score victory points for units damaged/destroyed as normal.
| Reserves | | Game length |
| When available, reserves move on from the player's deployment zone board edge. Imperial Fist units will fall back towards the nearest short board edge. | | The game lasts 6 turns but may be extended to a maximum of 10 turns as per the normal 'random game length' rules and the Imperial Fists disadvantage 'Death before dishonour'. The Imperial Fists will start the game off the table. They will have the first turn and will move on from the western table edge immediately. |
The battlefield
Valoran deployment zone
Author
Topic: Community game - Armoured battlegroup vs Space Marines - 'The dig' (Read 14235 times)