"welcome Friends, Allies, Starving, Bleeding...", A story of the Gue'vesa

OOC: To expand my tau army another notch for Apocolypse I am taking on a Gue'vesa subdevision to add to my army. Composed of converted catachan figures. Also I am changing my army in total to that of the Sa'cea Cadre. Let the Storyline begin!!!!

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*open transmition accessed...*
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"...and our conquest has only just begun friends! We have taken flight all across the tides of space and naught one force hath blockaded our inevitable campaign for long. But! Frett not and seek hope warriors and pesants of all kinds! For the choice is yours to follow! Elimination or Assimilation! Your beliefs, your people, your freedoms are yours to keep by our sides, or else be destroyed along with them. So I say to you all, welcome friends, allies, starving, bleeding, welcome all to our Greater Good!!!"
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Chapter 1: Condemnation
Praeter felt the warm blood of the woman warrior drip over his hand. He eased the blade of his dagger in between the plates of armor that protected her abdomen. His other hand firmly covered her mouth so as that her beautiful voice would not give away his ambush. The Battle Sister died quietly against the trunk of the stout, thick Gorrol trees that covered this part of the planet.
He pulled out the long maniacle looking blade and twisted the woman's neck enough to hear it crack and make sure that she had passed. He looked down at the ruined beauty. Her snow-white hair stained with her own blood from his hands. He regretted it so that it was his doing that had reduced this being to ruin but if he had not removed her from her body then she surely would have done so to him.
Praeter looked over at Twitch. The scrawny man, though only by Quetoran standards, was a sly looking individual. With thin, shifty eyes and short hair that always seemed to be standing on end. Allthough compared to a normal Cadian trooper he would look like a behemoth, amongst the Quetoran guardsmen he was but an adolescent. The Planet of Quetor was a deathworld second only to that of the Catachans.
Twitch had disposed of the two Inquisitorial stormtroopers that had been acompanying the Battle Sister. Their patrolls had been getting closer and closer to finding the camp over the last few months, to think that all this had come down from the acts of one man...

It had been two years and a month ago today that Colonel Veroma Werten had taken to his dispicable acts. The Quetoran 7th, 8th, and 11th infantry devisions along with the 2nd and 4th armored devisions and the 33rd Artillery Battery had made planetfall on Poir Tenaras. A tropical world trapped in eternal night. The constant heat of it's sun had evaporated it's oceans long ago and filled the sky with a thick water vapor that blocked out virtually all light.
The mission had been to either join and conscript the natives or to conquer them should they fail to abide. None of the troopers alive knows what really happened or if the mission was real at all. But one way or another the Quetorans had begun offensive action against what was later discovered to be an already populated imperial world. Under the influence of Werten the forces had laid seige to a great imperial temple. The entire 7th and 11th infantry were wiped out, along with the entire 4th armored company and the majority of the 2nd. The 33rd Artillery were never heard from after the seige, but the one volley that the Quetorans did receive from them was more than enought to allow entry to the temple. And also, Werten himself was slain by a fanatical priest wielding an eviscerator.
Upon discovering the true identity of their objective, the remaining Quetans turned tail in panic of what they had just undertook, and so with no one to argue their case, the signal was sent out, the remaining Quetans were denounced as traitors, the Sisters of the Order of the Cerulean Flame were brought in, and the remaining guardsman had no way to prove their innosence.

I like it. Its pretty good.

What does maniacle mean? Is it mispelled?

your right it should be spelled Maniacal which means:

"of or pertaining to mania or a maniac. "-Dictionary.com

but i'm just using it as a term for evil looking.

Chapter 2: Hell's Fires
Paeter jumped as Twitch smacked him in the head, jolting him out of his recollections.
"What?" Paeter asked.
"Listen up, Sweets," Twitch jestured to his ear to turn up his comm bead.
Paeter's last name was Sweets but he only ever let his closest comrades in on that, it wasnt the kind of name you wanted going around a rag-tag group of soldiers.
He turned up the bead and could hear the vox chatter going back and forth. It was a little hazy but he managed to tune into the main HQ lines.

".....eastern Red Hill. I repeat, enemy scouts have plotted an advance by enemy forces through the forest, path intersects within 2 K.M. of Camp. Armor moving to intercept forward advance and infantry preparing to ambush from the rear west! All scout forces regroup and randevous on the Eastern side of Red Hill!"
A series of "Roger"s and "Copy That"s replied, some of the voices Paeter recognized.

Twitch looked at him uncertainly, "....it sounds big," he said, "They're sending everything we have at them. Even the full armor....we need to get going."
"Yeah" He replied. They took off at a sprint toward the large, ruined radar station that was Red Hill, it was easily visible, but apart from that it was given no strategic value.

By the time they got to Red Hill all the other scouts had gathered there, and the vox was full of the frenzied communication of the ongoing battle just a short distance away.
Sweets turned to the other scouts, "Anyone down?" he asked.
"Delta 12 never got here," Aces replied. He was a small man, almost the size of a normal guardsman, it was because his mother was an offworlder of course. But by the throne was he a technical bastard, and a dead solid shot too.
"Then they're dead," Twitch said without pitty or hesitation. That was one of his many awkward atributes. "Someone vox the command and find out our orders! Everyone else organise weapons, someone get Pit a pistol and a decent blade, he's as likely to shoot himself in the foot with that rifle as he is a sister!" A stifled laugh went around. Pit was indeed a terrible shot, and he wasnt a tall man but he was so wide, and not in an unhealthy way either. He looked as though he could stand in the way of a LandRaider and hold his ground. The pure muscle packed onto his arms made it seem like he could tackle a spacemarine.

Varly, or as his squad knew him: Sergeant Charles Northick Varlemont, unhitched his powersword from his belt and handed it to Pit. The man used to be the squadleader of one of the Quetoran's most deticated squadrons, the late Colonel had taken controll of the squad for the Temple seige and had sent Varly to the lower ranks. Varly had never seen his squad again.

Aces looked up from his comms, "HQ says they want us in the battle yesterday boys!" It was a strange thing, since the Quetoran force had fallen apart, there was really no command ladder, there was everyone, everyone had a job, and then there was the HQ, and that was all there was to it.
Tipper, a relitively crazy man, was thin and scrawny but tall enough to keep his chin level while looking a space marine in the eyes. He was crazy in an inspiring way however, he drew his chainsword and laspistol from their holsters and hopped onto a large boulder amongst the group of 126 scout guardsmen.
He yelled "The next time I have an army of crazy preists accusing me of heresy and evil, and they come knocking at my front door, let em think what they want but dont let em kill us while they still think it!!!" The group responded with a roar of approval. It didnt matter about stealth anymore the battle was raging just on the other side of the hill.

Sweets jumped up beside the man, "By the Emperor above!!! Let us correct his warriors ghastly mistake! FOR THE EMPEROR!!!!"
"FOR THE EMPEROR!!!" They replied, Tipper fired a shot into the air and reved his chainsword so loudly it roared above the cannonfire of the battle nearby.
And shouting they charged up and over Red Hill, some of them running straight through the ruined radar station that covered half of it's peak. Once they crested the hilltop they witnessed the battle that raged below, and they charged for their last chance at justice.

OOC: And now the battle sequences begin, if they seem obnoxiously spaced apart it is because there is no tab function in this format so I will doublespace sections that should be separated normally. Otherwise all paragraphs apart from dialogue will be spaced. BTW just for clarification Quetoran or the planet Quetora is pronounced Kaytoran or Kaytora

Chapter 3: The Clearing
Sweets almost hesitated when he jumped the last boulder on the top of Red Hill. Looking down the hill was a small clearing between two endless masses of jungle. On one side, the bulking ranks of Leman Russ battle tanks formed up on the treeline, their cannons thundering out into the clearing and at the forces emerging on the side opposite them. The mighty baneblade of the Quetoran Armored, "The Spear of Quetora" sat idley in the middle of the formation, it's many guns firing almost blindly into the oncoming horde of enemies. Every 20 seconds or so the giant Baneblade cannon perched atop it boomed as it belched forth another massive detonation.

Across from the Guardsmen's tank line however sat the bulking forms of Other Leman Russes, whereas the Russes of Quetora were deep green with bright red trim, these were pure white with the Red and Gold of the Inquisition and the great signet of the Inquisitorial I welded to every surface of their structures.

Sisters of battle manned immolator tanks that sprayed forth heavy bolter shots into the infantry pouring forth from the opposite treeline, along with that Exorcist artillery tanks sat back in the trees sending hails of explosives raining down, taking an enormous toll on the already thinly stretched Imperial Guard tanks.

But down in the clearing is what caught Sweets' attention, more Quetoran deathworlders than he thought remained alive were charging down there into the melee that raged in the center and more poured forth from the treeline every moment. However, the same could be said and more so for the horde of inquisitorial Kasirkin that advanced in their disciplined manner from the opposite side. A large group of the Battlesisters made up their center but apart from that slight organisation the entire clearing was a mob of death and bloody warrior to warrior combat.

Sweets almost stopped but as he slowed, Tipper came running past him with his chainsword blaring and his laspistol firing eagerly at the enemy line. He gripped Sweets on the arm with a strenght that he almost couldnt bare, Tipper looked him in the eye.
"...And as the Emperor charged the vile ranks of foes he decreed to his men! 'Forward for the Imperium! Every man that fall earns a place by my side! For this day men shall Die!!!!" As the mad man quoted scripture he turned to the battle and, sprinting ahead of all the others, charged madly into it before Sweets lost sight of him.

Sweets drew his dagger and fixed it to the end of his lasgun. And with one last dash across the moist eternal-night grass he charged "For the Emperor!!!!"



As soon as he dove into the deadly mob he had to leap to the ground, the crackling sound of a powersword flew over his head, ending it's path in some fellow guardsman that Sweets didnt know the name of. He looked up at the Stormtrooper sergeant who wielded it, it was clear he had been fighting in this frenzy from the beginning, his white armor was dyed with blood.... but that ment nothing in war.

Sweets jutted out his combat boot and incaved the man's knee cap. With a horrifying "Snap!" the man cried out in pure bloody agony and fell to the ground, Sweets rolled on top of him and with a quick motion sent his beyonetted rifle into the man's exposed face. He yanked the powersword from the man's dead hand, threw his rifle over his shoulder and kept his dagger in hand.

He looked up at the death around him. The first thing he saw was Polo, a veteran of his company, the man's chainsword was almost jammed with the blood and flesh it had torn. He threw down another opponent before 3 of the stormtroopers came at him, he immediatly impaled one straight through the chest, but another came up and threw a beyonette into his side.

The other stormtrooper began to fire repeatedly into the old veteran's chest. Polo grabbed the barrel of the rifle stuck in his side and pulled the firing stormtrooper close to him, he then pulled a grenade off his belt and yanked out the pin with his teeth. There was a flash and a sudden "THUD!" and all three of the men were scattered onto the breeze in an instant.

A hand grabbed Sweets by the back of his collar and dragged him to his feet, it was Pit. It had been only an instant of fighting and the man was already missing another finger. That left only 7 between the two hands now. He simply looked at him before turning and tackling another opponent off to the left.

Sweets took the hint and looked around, the first thing he saw was the Priest. The man came running at him with his eyes rolled back in his head, he wielded a laspistol and some kind of what looked to be a butcher knife, it was hard to tell but it definatly had no strategic advantage other than to be wielded by a fanatic.

...It was too easy. The priest loosed a fury of shots from his pistol before it got blazing hot and he had to drop it. One of the shots punched into Sweets' shoulder but the searing lazer barely even gave the giant guardsman any pain. The priest yelled something he couldnt make out and then charged. Instantly Sweets took a sweep with his new-found powersword and removed the man's hand. The man hardly even notice and simply jumped on him. He looked as thought his was about to bite him before Sweets stuck his dagger into the man's gut and cut upward. There was no fanaticism left in the old man after that. He died with an angry look on his face.

One of the tanks must have misfired because directly after that a detonation went off to his right, the light was blinding and the shockwave sent him head over heels. By the time he got back to his feet he could see that he had landed somewhat deeper into the fight. It was more densly packed and he acually got stepped on once or twice before he got to his feet. He looked up and there she was. Some sort of leader of the Sisters of Battle, her beauty hit him like a rock. Her white hair was down to her waist and her figure was absolutly perfect. She did everything perfectly. She stood above the battle on a boulder in the middle of the clearing, her guards surrounding her sending a hail of bolter fire across the melee.

She turned and Sweets could have sworn she made eye contact with him. Aparently she had, she began to raise her bolt pistol in his direction, everything was going in slow motion. She began to speak and he could hear it as though she were right beside him.
"Now you go to the Emperor's Judgment insolent traitor!!!"
He could even see her hand begin to tense around the trigger when she stopped, a mad man's scream, and then the beautiful woman's head landed no more than two feet from him. He looked up again to see the cannoness' body go limp and the bolt pistol fire off in some random direction as Tipper jimped up on the boulder and violently kicked the body off and took the womans place upon the centerpoint.

The battle seemed to pause and the cannoness' bodyguards turned around to see what was going on, baffled by how this man had made it within their perimeter.
It seemed as though everyone turned to look at the man upon the stone in the center of the entire battle.

Tipper raised his chainsword into the air, "FOR THE IMPERIUM!!! AND THE IMMORTAL EMPEROR!!!!!!!!!!!!" He instantly pounced on the nearest of the bodyguard Celestian squad and began to wrestle violently over her life.
His cry was answered with a roar of approval from the West of the clearing, and an enfuriated roar of disgust from the East. The Cannon fire began again and everything seemed to become louder all at once. Sweets stood up and looked around again, men began fighting more furioiusly than he had ever seen. But the sheer overpower of the Inquisitorial forces began to take it's toll on the forces of Quetora.

Sweets spun on his heel to see the Sister Superior who approached him. Her powersword glittered in one hand and an empty bolt pistol dropped from her other.
She threw her helmet to the ground and looked him straight in the eye, once again he was taken aback by their striking features, such a woman could have any partner of her choosing back on the tribal world of Quetora, but this one had chosen a life of solitude and servitude.

"Your head shall be mine heratic!!!" She spat at him
"YOUR IGNORANCE AND IDIOCY HAVE BETRAYED YOUR LOYALTY NUN!" Sweets roared back at her.
She yelled with rage and tackled him furiously to the ground.