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EG3
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Feb 26, 2015 04:19
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E,G 3
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Feb 26, 2015 04:25
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Prosper's praetors, BeGin!
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Feb 26, 2015 04:30
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All that strategy stuff goes right over my head but all I care about is seeing our guard get Name #3
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Feb 26, 2015 04:33
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E and G also. Meltaguns permit the commission of many sins indeed, and what kind of Rogue Trader doesn't want to pocket the loot? The Mechanicus is primarily in this for the servitor-stock, after all. I'm willing to say I'm amused enough about the mixup with the Crimson Guards of the Lathes to vote for them again for some strange reason, but I doubt I can stop this bandwagon.
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Feb 26, 2015 04:49
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FG3
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Feb 26, 2015 05:20
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EF3. C'mon guys! Reflector shield. Don't you want to pimp-slap a lascannon blast back at the cheeky bastard who fired it?
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Feb 26, 2015 05:32
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AE2. Don't we want everyone to see who we are? Granted, the LasLords won't be spreading any tales about how badass we looked as we stormed the breach, but we can film our own footage for propaganda purposes.
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Feb 26, 2015 05:35
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sullat posted:AE2. Don't we want everyone to see who we are? Granted, the LasLords won't be spreading any tales about how badass we looked as we stormed the breach, but we can film our own footage for propaganda purposes. Praetorians with glowing reflective armor? 
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Feb 26, 2015 05:47
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E,G,2
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Feb 26, 2015 06:02
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I can absolutely not pass up Meltaguns. We have to enure that Rast gets one of these as well. It seems like option G is going to win it, personally I have my doubts that a bunch of laser-loving rock miners have something super amazing that's worth staking a claim to, but I guess we'll see if it was worth an archaeotech reflector field. Prosper's Praetorians is a good name for the force as a whole, these guys in particular can be the Voidwalkers.
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Feb 26, 2015 07:08
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C: Rad Grenades, and C: Rad Grenades again the clue is in the name
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Feb 26, 2015 08:50
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CG
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Feb 26, 2015 10:04
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CF3
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Feb 26, 2015 10:45
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:C: Rad Grenades, and C: Rad Grenades again They are pretty rad. pre:A X B X C XXXX D E XXXXXXX F XXX G XXXXXXXX H 1 X 2 XX 3 XXXXXXXX 4 5
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Feb 26, 2015 15:24
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reflector shield andKai Tave posted:I can absolutely not pass up Meltaguns. We have to enure that Rast gets one of these as well. +1 to it all
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Feb 26, 2015 22:27
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Reflector shield and Meltas for all
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Feb 26, 2015 22:33
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A shield to keep the most important person alive, and meltaguns to give our dynasty flexible firepower.
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Feb 27, 2015 02:48
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Question: If we did end up voting for the Refractor Shield instead of the loot, would the Mechanicus be extra happy with us if the Laser Lords have something good that they then get to take? I can be persuaded to change my vote to the motherfucking archeotech refractor shield by that logic.
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Feb 28, 2015 00:02
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Meltas and Rad Grenades
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Feb 28, 2015 02:14
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Laser Lord’s Claim, Furibundus Clouds of sickly colored particulate billow in front of you, filling your vision with waves of brown and black tinged with purple and yellow. The products of the refinery were toxic beyond belief, but to the void-hardened armor that you and your cohort wore it might as well have been water vapor. The impeller units strapped to your torso struggled to push through the cloud, but the inertial monitors indicated you were making good progress. Around you your men move forward, eyes steeled with resolve and a desire to prove their worth to their Lord. It was the same look you saw on every man when you briefed the approach, and the same look you saw when you told them of their name. You may never forget what you said. “Men, in ancient times before Humanity even left the grasp of Terra, there was the world-spanning civilization of Room. Even then the God-Emperor watched over Humanity, and his legions of warriors conquered all they saw with fire and steel. The barbarians and heathens learned to fear the God-Emperor’s armies and fell before them like wheat to the scythe. The greatest of the God-Emperor’s army, the elite, were his personal bodyguard known as the Praetorians. Foes who discovered they were to face the Praetorians often fled or begged for mercy without lifting a sword, such was their power. You are my Praetorians. A thousand strong, you will be the spearhead that plunges into the heart of the Koronus Expanse. Your deeds will be praised, your accolades cheered in halls across the galaxy, your names forever enshrined by the hands of artisans. None shall stand before you!” The cheers from your men, your Praetorians, fills your heart even now in remembrance. It’s a reassuring bit of solace that steels you against the fears and uncertainties ahead. Surrounded by miasma, unable to see ahead, unsure of your position save what the machine spirits divine, the circumstances are perfect for your mind to wander. You struggle to avoid indulging in the doubts and portents of doom that creep into your mind. Will you resurrect your Dynasty in light of the damage done by your Progenitor? Does restoring the honor of your family require you to face him? You recall with horror the incredible stories of the feats done by those consumed by the Halo Devices. Cannibalism, alien transformations, a complete loss of soul and self. Men, no things, that have been burned alive and come back from death. Could you defeat such a monster if you had to? You shake your head, refusing to go down that path. Better to focus on the present, and the plan of attack. It was simple, but risky. You and your Praetorians would lead the attack, diving through the plume of refinery waste that obscured detection. By all accounts the LasLords seemed to rely on visual methods of detection, and the sheer quantity of ejecta coming from the refinery due to their inefficient mining techniques provided secure cover. The Augmented and Mechanicus approached from the shadow of the asteroid. The mining lasers from the LasLord’s complex would incinerate them if they got too close, so your men were responsible for disabling them. Once that was done flares would be fired to begin the assault. Forces would be split over the arms, coming up towards the center and catching the LasLords in a vice. It was more complicated than that, of course. There was also the profit angle. The Mezoa-pattern meltagun mag-locked to your torso was a sign of that. One man in ten amongst your forces had one just like it, with explicit instructions to avoid damaging the structure too much. Meltaguns, essentially portable fusion devices, were incredibly potent yet reliable weapons with a short effective range. Properly wielded they could penetrate a tank or cut through nearly anything with ease. They would make short work of the airlocks and allow you to breach with impunity, potentially exposing the people inside to the void before they were ready. It would also enable your forces to quickly salvage anything of interest. If you didn’t destroy it. You were taking a risk here. Your troops were taking on the most dangerous part of the attack for a reason beyond pride. You guessed that the LasLords had access to valuable tech, and you knew the Mechanicus would take what they could if you weren’t quick. As part of the contract for this operation you had intentionally refused additional servitors in exchange for salvage rights to the facility, taking on additional burden in the hopes of reaping profit. The Magos seemed almost amused at the prospect and gave up rights without a moment’s hesitation. Clearly his interest was in the stock for more servitors. The end result was simple: if it wasn’t organic it belonged to you. The machine spirit chimes. The inertial monitors have divined you are in position, along with the rest of your forces. You unlock the meltagun and exit the plume, your retinue and bodyguard at your side. You note with a little dismay that the industrial miasma has discolored and dulled your armor before your focus is entirely consumed by the sights of war. The massive structure surrounding the LasLord claim stretches out for what seems like an eternity in four cardinal directions, the curvature of the station creating an artificial horizon of steel and ceramite. The light of Furibundus streams in from an angle you immediately consider “up” and orient yourself accordingly. Even this close to the station you can see the glow of the mining laser, flares of azure starfire reflecting off the asteroid and projecting plumes of light over the sides of the station. You hope none of the men behind you look too closely and are blinded; even protected as you are by the mass of the station your visor has darkened as much as possible. On the near side of the station you see LasLords, their blue reflect-coated armor shimmering whenever light catches them, rushing in a panic to form firing positions. The strategy worked. Lances of blinding white light stream from the hellguns of your Praetorians. The deliberately placed beams perforate helmets and vital areas with accuracy born from a lifetime of training. The bodies of the targets stand inertly in the weightless void, their feet still mag-locked to the station. Those of the LasLords still alive take what cover they can and fire back, taking a few of your men with them before they are perforated with coherent beams of pure energy. A wave of relief washes over you as you feel your own boots lock on the metal plating. Rast lands solidly next to you, wielding a heavy bolter as if it were a child’s plaything. Never one to be unprepared his thunder hammer is mag-locked to his back. You note with some amusement at how Crispy has used his mechadendrites to wrap around the shaft of the hammer, floating behind him like a macabre war trophy. Either the servo skull had hidden himself in a crevice during the approach or was already blackened enough that you couldn’t notice any discoloration from the plume. Over the comm bead you hear Cornelius providing strategic updates from his position on the gun cutter outside the range of the LasLord’s guns. The seneschal was a trusted advisor, and a fighter when necessary, but a full on assault was outside his area of expertise. Never mind the necessity of having someone you could trust in a vehicle capable of extracting you should things go wrong. Then something does. A fusillade of laser fire coming from the sunward side catches your forces unaware. LasLords taking cover over the lip of the ring with the harsh glare of Furibundus at their backs. Even with your auto-visor darkened to maximum you can barely discern the shapes of the enemy while your own forces are perfectly highlighted. “TAKE COVER!” Rast shouts before setting himself and unloading a stream of bolter fire across the artificial horizon. You find yourself caught in a moment of sick fascination as you watch shells the size of a small child’s arm pour from the ejection port, glistening in the harsh glare of the star as they tumble away. Each shell was the former home of a Metal Storm bolter round that streaks across the void. The machine spirit in each projectile detonates at a prescribed distance before exploding behind the LasLords and rendering their cover, and the meager protection of their coated void suits, utterly ineffective. You know it’s not enough. Rast only has so much ammunition, the firing position of the LasLords is too strong, and the risk of being flanked from the other side grows by the second. The only way is through. Swearing at yourself for the profits about to be lost, you tab your comm. “Praetorians! Fire into the station! Breach through and take the fight inside!” You follow through with your own melta and fire at what you hope is a thin (and cheap) part of the station. The invisible stream of particles impacts the metal and vaporizes it instantly. A plume of glowing particles is ejected away from the station. You continue to fire and are rewarded with an explosion as the inner structure is breached and the air begins to vent. Something gets stuck in the hole, plugging it briefly, before it’s rendered into a black mass of carbon. You thought you saw a face but decide not to dwell on it. In a few moments the hole is large enough to pass through without touching the glowing edges and your troops move in. You see similar actions occurring around you as your Praetorians breach through the station to take cover inside. More than a few of your men are not moving, locked to the station in death as they were in life. You move inside followed by Rast, who hands the heavy bolter to a Praetorian. “User her well, Primo,” the giant says to the man, “I’m rather fond and would like her back.” The man Rast called Primo nods and hefts the weapon, auto-stabilizers making the act trivial. “As you wish, Master-at-Arms, although I could get used to this.” You hear Rast laugh through the comm as he unlocks his thunder hammer. Crispy lets go at the last moment and floats on his own. +++Thanks for the ride.+++ You heft the meltagun and look around. You find yourself in a control room of some description, surrounded by polished metal and white ceramite. You find yourself surprised at the level of cleanliness in a supposedly industrial area. A control console, still active, sits idle on the far wall. You suspect you’ve already met the previous user. “Crispy, find us a path,” you say as Rast positions men to guard the doors. It seems your decision to breach through was the right one. Resistance is largely token as the occupants of this section either weren’t practiced with their void suits or were more interested in fleeing than fighting. The servo skull floats to the console and plugs himself in. Within seconds the screens flash as the machine spirits within submit themselves to the will of the skull. +++That’s simply not possible.+++ “What is it?” +++ How up to speed are you on advanced optical relays and photonic induction systems in the terawatt range? +++ “Let’s pretend I’m not.” +++The “mining laser” these void rats are using isn’t a laser. It’s a lance. A starship grade lance, using a pattern that shows every sign of going back to the Dark Age of Technology. I can’t even begin to fathom these readings from the power source. And the output of the system is relayed through a series of lenses that can handle power on a level not seen for millennia. Prosper, the Mechanicus would kill everyone on this station to get access to this technology.+++ “Good thing we have the salvage rights to it.” Crispy hovers up and down. You suspect he’s laughing. +++Fair point, and I can’t wait to see the look on the Magos when he realizes what he gave up for a bunch of warm bodies.+++ “We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. Our priority right now is securing the site and getting the current occupants slated for processing.” +++I’ve got the maps loaded. We’ll want to secure an airlock without melting it if we have any hope of moving at a reasonable pace. Also I would hate to think about how these components would respond to be violently degassed, so the less we expose the station to the void the better.+++ “Duly noted. Let’s get going.” +++Prosper, one last thing.+++ A message pops up in the screen, glowing green. code:A. Our priority is the lance technology. Redirect all Praetorians towards the hub so that it can be secured. Shutdown operations will be done in a slow and prescribed manner in accordance with the rituals that properly appease the machine spirit. This will almost certainly result in additional casualties before you can secure the system, but will allow you to hold it in secrecy. B. Time is of the essence. If they know about the attack, they may be aware of the multiple avenues and have a way to retaliate against the Adeptus and Augmented who are waiting your signal. Push hard and fast, using emergency shutdown procedures and risk damage to the system in the name of expediency. C. Signal the Mechanicus. The Machina Scientia is nearby and can overwhelm this entire station in minutes. Murder-servitors will descend in the thousands, the entire population will be massacred or enslaved, and history will tell of the glory of the Mechanicus and list the Prosper Dynasty as a footnote. You still have your salvage rights, and casualties to your own forces will be minimal, but you suspect the Magos will insist on studying the technology in exchange for the assistance. That’s a card you won’t hold in the future. Then again, can you even trust them? What’s to say they won’t betray you and take what they want? D. Something else. Beer4TheBeerGod fucked around with this message at 18:53 on Feb 28, 2015 |
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Feb 28, 2015 17:56
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The Las Lords like optics and lasers, right? Can we redirect the waste plume into the station, filling it with thick smoke, and then go shanking in the dark?
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Feb 28, 2015 18:26
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C give up the lance! Let the ad-mech replicate it!
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Feb 28, 2015 18:31
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goatface posted:The Las Lords like optics and lasers, right? Can we redirect the waste plume into the station, filling it with thick smoke, and then go shanking in the dark? It wouldn't be a trivial exercise. The station is modular and isolated so that when there's a breach it can be quickly cut off, and the same systems would prevent the easy distribution of the miasma. Your own troops would suffer the same problems as the LasLords who live there and thus know the terrain better.
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Feb 28, 2015 18:33
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A. Gotta get those lances.
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Feb 28, 2015 18:37
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Ring up the AdMech, tell them there's something obscenely valuable here and we'll sell it to them in exchange for a couple of production models for our big ship. goatface fucked around with this message at 19:01 on Feb 28, 2015 |
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Feb 28, 2015 18:38
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:C give up the lance! Let the ad-mech replicate it! goatface posted:Hmm, I'd say C then. It's not something they can reproduce. At best they'll be able to study it for decades, gleaning as much information out of it as possible, and years from now they'll have a working prototype or modify their own designs. Or there will be some kind political struggle between the various forge world and the pattern will be declared heresy and sequestered for all eternity. More likely they'll just worship it or put it on their own ship (since making a machine work is the ultimate form of worship). It's like handing someone from the 1980s an iPhone and telling them to make more. And it's not just the lance. The mirror technology also seems to let them split the beam up and direct it across the asteroid. Basically option C means you're sacrificing your notoriety to have the AdMech show up and clean house. You still have rights to the salvage itself. On the other hand it's entirely possible that the loss of notoriety will be offset by having a sweet archeotech lance strapped to the top of your ship. Sure people will make fun of you for needing help to take on a bunch of miners now, but will that matter when you own star systems? Beer4TheBeerGod fucked around with this message at 18:50 on Feb 28, 2015 |
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Feb 28, 2015 18:46
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Brownview fucked around with this message at 18:55 on Feb 28, 2015 |
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Feb 28, 2015 18:47
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Beer4TheBeerGod posted:You and your Progenitors would lead the attack, Holy poo poo, there's more than one? Hmm, If the price for capturing this intact is merely a few lives, let's SAlvage this bad boy. Granted, the cog-boys are going to learn about it when we ask them to integrate it to our ship, but by then it will be securely in our hands. Especially if we wait until it's been pulled into orbit.
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Feb 28, 2015 18:52
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sullat posted:Holy poo poo, there's more than one? Hmm, If the price for capturing this intact is merely a few lives, let's SAalvage this bad boy. Granted, the cog-boys are going to learn about it when we ask them to integrate it to our ship, but by then it will be securely in our hands. Especially if we wait until it's been pulled into orbit. poo poo, that should be Praetorians. Only one Progenitor. And you have no loving clue where he is.
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Feb 28, 2015 18:52
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Actually I'm changing my vote to A. Throw bodies at it, they can be replaced but that weapon is effectively irreplaceable. It's the 40K way.
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Feb 28, 2015 18:53
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goatface posted:Hmm, I'd say C then. I hate to say it but this. The AdMech will owe us one, and people will think we have them on call, and fear us more for it. We can throw them a deal, they can study OUR lance for the indefinite future, and make all the data copies they want on the proviso they make us a smaller one for the our ship when they figure it out. gently caress it, guts glory and a kickass lance of the nose of our ship A all the way Outrail fucked around with this message at 18:58 on Feb 28, 2015 |
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Feb 28, 2015 18:55
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The whole reason we gave up on the RAD grenades or the boss shield was on the off-chance there was something even more awesome here. And now that there is, we want to give it back for the hope of a return in a few decades? e: glad to have you on board team awesome lance.
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Feb 28, 2015 18:59
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Yeah, gently caress it, A. Especially if we can make it fire out of the eyes of the figurehead on the prow.
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Feb 28, 2015 19:00
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A, naturally. Man, good call G voters; I'm sorry I doubted you.
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Feb 28, 2015 19:06
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sullat posted:The whole reason we gave up on the RAD grenades or the boss shield was on the off-chance there was something even more awesome here. And now that there is, we want to give it back for the hope of a return in a few decades? You're not giving it back. The lance is worth more than the rest of the station. What you're planning on doing is taking advantage of the Magos' obsession with technology to have him come in and clean house. Same way you got him to help refuel the Resurrection. The cost is your reputation. A: Lose more troops, secure the lance and optics array, boost your reputation. B: Risk the lance/optics to keep your troops alive, boost your reputation. C: Lose fewer troops and secure the lance and optics array, sacrifice your reputation, lose a bit of leverage with the Magos.
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Feb 28, 2015 19:10
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Tap their comms, parley for their surrender while we start doing A, release them into the "worshipful care" of the AdMech.
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Feb 28, 2015 19:14
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Holy throne on Terra, some men are an Acceptable loss
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Feb 28, 2015 19:15
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A
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Feb 28, 2015 19:17
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| # ? Jun 13, 2024 02:37 |
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A
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Feb 28, 2015 19:17
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