Forfoz continues to enter commands into the command console. He changes the cameras and reaktivates all of the defence turrets. He nods.
"Indeed, the code to get into the system was quite complex... If I wheren't here it would take hours to bring it down" He moves his hands from the controls and picks out his data-slate which he connects to the controls. He enters some more commands and smiles. He download a couple of files from the computer and puts the Data-slate away again.
"We are indeed gathering valuable information here... And with almost all of the imperial rats on this vessel dead we should have no problems keeping this station under control"
He continues to check systems and controlling the turrets to kill any survivor...

Jackruss had checked the posts and the men weren't there, something smelled fishy here. He was on his way to the barracks when the ground shook and the sound of howling metal filled the air. An attack? Why didn't the station warn us? He thought while breaking into a run towards the barracks.

When he got there Jackruss kicked open the door to find guardsmen panicking and struggling into their flak armour, firing a bolt into the ceiling he shouted: "Come on you dogs! the only reason I didn't shoot one of you is because I need you fools to fight whatever just shat on our hive! Those who aren't ready and armed in five minutes I shoot!" With that hanging in the air he strode off towards the stables to get his own mount.

A fine animal, standing in at a little over seven feet, this creature had seen many battles along with Jackruss and was as battle-hardy as him. He quickly mounted up and grabbed a lance from the stable's armoury, already men were streaming from the buildings towards the stables, some only with flak armour and no boots. It was four minutes now and still not everybody had got out, he unhooked his bolt pistol and checked the mechanisms, immediately the men ran faster. "5 MINUTES EVERYONE, 10, 9, 8..." He continued counting down while he oh so lazily aimed the gun at one of the slower ones, *BLAM*, the shot rang out and only a bloody excuse for a corpse remained.

The soldiers had all come out by then but he continued his countdown from ten again, it took another 4 guardsmen till they were all mounted and ready. "Right! Plan is we teach these bastards not to drop on our heads by purging them from the upper levels and keeping them with the dregs in the lower hive, ride like the emperor himself led you!" With that he broke into a canter with the rest of the men following him, Jackruss thought these must be orks because of the simple attack they had planned, it would be quite the wake up call.

OOC: I'm not sure if I took too much control, but could you tell me how many men I have in this squad?

OOC: Everyone can command as many units as the codex rules will allow. The owner of the squad may kill them off in their posting, but not kill those belonging to another player. I'll work out an example here with Jackruss.

IC:
Sharr retrieved the severed head of the Sergeant slain by Gore Fiend. The Praetorian Guardsmen fired his Lasgun and missed, the beam straffing past the Word Bearer's head.
The daemon eye locked onto the squad of soldiers burning red, "Pathetic." Clasping the head in his free hand, Sharr broke into a run howling like a ravenous beast, Gore Fiend roared in unison as his whirling teeth chewed in the the mewling Praetorian Guard. They were mangled and eviserated beyond recognition.
Returning the chain blade to it's maglock at his hip, Sharr reached behind his armor for a length of black chain dangling from his power core. At the end was a serrated arrow tip which he pierced deep into the head of the Sergeant. As it pierced through bone and brain matter, spider thin limbs caged around the head and he let the trophy dangle behind him.

More Praetorians Guardsmen advanced taking defensive positions in buildings and quickly build sand bricks. Awave of howling Cultists that had dropped from the Dread Claws had already beaten the first batch of soldiers with their primitive clubs. Siezing their autoguns and las weapons.

The Captain of the Praetorian Platoon sat atop his cybernetic enhanced steed that seemed eager to charge. The Captain kept the beast at bay as he drew out his saber.
"Firing lines you bastards! Move as if the Commissar is behind you!"
Four squads of Guardsmen lined up into two firing lines. The forward ranks took a knee, charging their Lasguns as did the rear ranks standing behind them.
"Forward rank...FIRE!"
Their weapons boomed as one massive discharge. The shots tore through the unarmoured Cultists like they were paper. But that did not deminish the foaming insanity of the heretics.
"Rear rank...Fire!"
The second ranks fired, ripping through the bodies of the madmen.
"Forward rank...FIRE!"
As the Praetorians prepared to fire, a pair of Frag grenades bounced before the two squads and erupted in a shower of fire and shrapnel. The explosion sent the squads behind flying back, most had taken the shrapnel to the face while others were saved by their flak jackets. The forward ranks, however were scorched beyond recognition, those unfortunate to bare teh blunt of the grenades grabbed at charred faces and embedded shrapnel.

Before the Captain could react, his steed rose on its hind legs and whined out in a dying squeal. The Captain fell to the stone floor, rolling to the side as his mount collapsed on it's back. Gaining his stance, he saw the attacker at last. An Astarties learing at him with a burning red eye and smiling with with a sinister grin. The burning eye turned in it's augment towards a Guardsmen who stumbled to his feet. Without turning the Space Marine reached for the Bolt Pistol strapped over his chest and fired at the man. The Captain watched as the trooper exploded in a mist of red.

The Captain scowled at the Astarties, he couldn't believe his eyes at first. A chosen of the Emperor killing a loyal Guardsmen in cold blood. This was inexcusable! The Captain took a fighting stance with his dueling saber, activating the electric field around the blade.
"HAVE AT THEE, TRAITOROUS SCUM!"

In response, Sharr reached for the other sword in it's black leather scabbard. The blade was elegant, refine and splenderous. It shined in the setting sun like a gem of lavender and seemed to weep drops of diamonds in it's wake. It was as long as a mans arm and curved to perfection. Sharr grasped the handle with care as he too assumed a fighting stance.

He beckoned the Captain and the duel began. The Captain fought in many duels against the xenoes and tournaments, very few could match his skill. His saber locked and parried with the elegant blade of the Word Bearer. Theirs was like a dance, a ballet of swordsmanship rarely seen before.
The dance lasted for several minutes.
At last it ended, the Captain went for the death blow a strong forward thrust of his saber. But he missed his mark. As the blade cut the air behind his target.
The elegant blade was so fine so sharp and perfect, he was unaware the blade had severed his head from his body until he collapsed into a heap. His head rolling towards Sharr, who added another head to the chain spikes at his back.

As Sharr savored the kill with his blade, Daemonette, his Fox bead buzzed from Forfoz. He responded.
"Excellent, techpriest. The lord of Death smiles upon you. Ensure that the Cultists and a retinue of our Host remain onboard. Ensure the station is fully operational for our use."
He was about to close the channel when Whisper broke in.

~'the Dead shall walk again.'

Sharr smiled, understanding his counterparts words. "Forfoz, if any of the Praetorian bodies are...salvagable, gift them with the plagues of nurgle and load them aboard a few of the Cultist Thunderhawks. I believe that the Great Father should spread his gifts to the Praetorians with an army of undead. Yess."

Sharr cut off the feed.

In the distance, Sharr could hear the charge of approaching horsemen. Sheathing Daemonette into her scabbard he turned to the mass of madmen and Cultists who were scavenging the dead Praetorians.
The Chaos Lord raised Gore Fiend from his maglock and beckoned the horde of Cultists. "Move you dogs! Advance, the enemy comes to face use once more. Do not dishonor the gods this day. Kill them all! Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne! Souls for the Soul Eater!"

OOC: This goes towards Jackruss

IC:
The Mass of Cultists and Heretics charged screaming glory to Chaos. They spotted the approaching calvalry, those armed with las guns and pistols fired into the rushing hord. Those who were of military mind took cover and prepared quick frag grenades, lobbing them towards the path of the horsemen.

OOC: You can decide if the members of Jackruss squad take damage, die, or survive. Basically my NPCs can attack your NPCs and you decide if they die or not. Likewise you can attack my NPCs and I decide if they die or not.
Your main Toon can instant kill, defend against NPCs at all times as you see fit. But if he goes against my Toon then it becomes different.

OOC: Damn, you guys already hit the command center? Well, alright, time to make some changes.

IC: Silence was their ally. While the rest of the Host rampaged throughout the station, causing havoc, Ramiel and his forces were silent. No battlecries, no roars of vengeance or praises to the Dark Gods. Only the sounds of boots and ceramite hammering on the decks. The exmilitary cultists, The Red Dogs they called themselves, were a paragon of what the Gods expected of human warriors. Mere humans, that is, but they did their part admirably. Their job was to clear a path of red ruin, affixing silencers to their weapons or slicing open throats. They ran through several bulkheads and personal quarters, killing any and all who were still reeling from the surprise attack. It was easy work. Almost.
Meanwhile, the Traitor Astartes kept running to their objective. They were like tireless bulls, keeping at a steady pace that the smaller humans could barely keep up with. Yet they could not wait for any delay, whatsoever. All that mattered right now was taking engineering.
Communications were out at the moment, so any reaction to the invasion was halted. However, should the engine room catch wind of events, they might decide to overload the reactors, consigning themselves, and the Legionaries, to oblivion. That could not pass.
As they rounded the corner, they came across a vast storage room. Stacks upon stacks of fuel covered the high-scaling walls. Several sentinel powerlifters and various loader-servitors could be seen walking to the great stacks and replacing old cells with new ones to deliver down below. In the center was a great lift. Currently, the crew were going to take the newer power cells and transporting them down below, so they could feed the giant beast that was the great engines of the station.
Ramiel was about to give the order to attack when the comms speakers came to life.
"Attention soldiers of the Imperium, this is Commander Yuri of the Imperial Heralds. The foul xenos of the Eldar have infiltrated your sector in a surprise attack. Prepare yourselves, death approaches."
A ploy being used by the Sorcerer Yuri. Ramiel knew he was one to use trickster methods to further confuse the Imperial lackeys.
But this particular ploy had the unfortunate effect of alerting the enginseers of the newcomers. As soon as they saw the armor of congealed blood, and the myriad signs of the Blessed Eight-Pointed Star, orders were shouted, and weapons were raised. Lasfire raked the entrance, and several Red Dogs fell. The shots of light did little to the Astartes but to infuriate them.
"Kill them all!" Ramiel barked, snapping a shot with his bolt pistol. The shot missed its mark, but even so ripped a chunk of flesh of one of the defender's arms. Then, the room descended into anarchy.
The Red Dogs were devotees of Khorne, and their commander was a bloodthirsty individual. Seeing his fallen comrades, he gave the order to charge. The cultists sprinted to the nearest enemy soldier to engage in hand-to-hand combat. They carried axes, bayonets, clubs, knives, and anything else they could get their hands on. The result was brutal melee. The engineers and servitors fought back, yet both sides were sustaining casualties. Faces were beaten in; rib cages split apart; limbs hacked off; heads cracked open; and blood, so much blood, sprayed and spewed in all directions.
The Word Bearers let loose with bolter shots, mass-reactionary rounds reducing both sides to red pulp. Ramiel's squad soon entered the fray, chainweapons roaring in anger. Ramiel, himself swung with his unactivated maul. The weapon acted as both a deadly weapon and an icon of Chaos Divided. Its head was in the shape of the Star of Chaos, with a corroded skull in the center. Once, the skull belonged to his blood-brother, a fellow Chaos Marine. He had fallen in a battle against a warband of Emperor's Children. Though the 27th was ultimately victorious, Ramiel's brother was counted as one of the fallen, his head removed by an Aspiring Champion. Ramiel made sure the offending combatant met a messy and violent end to his rampage.
The maul swung left and right, leaving Imperial crew-hands sprawling to the floor, dead or dying.
Ramiel motioned for the assault squad to follow him to the lift. Time was of the essence. As soon as they clammered onto the space, firing off their last shots into the Imperials, Ramiel punched the button, and the lift descended. The remaining Word Bearers and the Red Dogs would remain to clean up.

IC:
M"AHAHA FOOLS THE ACID OF PLAGUE WILL DESTORY YOUR INTENDEDS And will turn you to a dead heep and you will rise again for the dark gods"
*cutting through guardsman left and right*
P~yes my dead rise once more and kill what was once your men~
Random voice~burn maim kill burn main kill use me once more so i can take skulls once more~
M"really why have you come back this is what i get for skull taking"

*after taking the skull of a particularly brave guardsmen who dared charge Alexander with only his bayonet*

*looks at the Havoc*

"talking to your weapons again are we?"

*sees the first cultist emerge from a nearby building*

"you there!" *pointing with his still grinding chain axe* "your hour of salvation has arrived! bring us to your leader!"

*the cultist seemed overjoyed that these heralds of the gods had arrived to aid them in their fight, and gladly led the Brotherhood to the location of their leader, more of a broken down building which contained a rather poor idol to the gods*

Head Cultist: *drops down on knees* 'HAIL OHH LORD! OUR DELIVERANCE FROM THE FALSE EMPEROR'S MINIONS HAS FINALLY ARRIVED!"

Alexander: *in an oddly kind voice for him* "yes...." *kindly places hand on the cultist's back as if to comfort him* "your hour of salvation has arrived....." *pulls out chain axe and before the cultist can see what happened his head was already on the floor, blood spurting out from the severed stump of a neck*

"so who was his second?"

*one of the nearby cultists looked more frightened than the rest and the rest shoved him out towards the Khornate after he had tried to blend into the group*

*in an angry growl* "YOU!" *now in a kind, joyful tone* "your in charge now...."

*and with that picks up the cultist's head off of the ground and walks off*

"now we head for the communications tower brothers! no cry for help shall be sounded from this world!"

*the new lead cultist overheard this and started giving orders to go and attack the comms tower as well*

The chandeler of the Great Hall rang gently over head of the party. The party guests were oblivious to the cacophony of war. A few nobles watched as a meteror shower struck the distant Hab Blocks to the West. The BOOM of their entry to the planet's atmosphere was almost taken in as thunder.

The guests looked up in alarm as the boom rolled across the heavens. Governor Bromhead waved over one of the servants and whispered: "Contact the orbital fleet, find out what the hell that was!"
The servant nodded and made for the palace Vox chamber.
Bromhead tapped the edge of his wine glass with a silver spoon, gaining the attention of his guests. "No need to panic good sirs and ladies. Just a meteor shower, it's not uncommon."

A slender gentleman turned to the Governor, "Begging your pardon, Lord Governor, but should not the orbital fleet have destroyed them before impact?"
"I'm sure it's a malfunction, noble sir."
A noble woman looked with shock on her face, "Is it another Ork invasion? I've heard they use rocks for landing on worlds!"
"Be calm my friends, be calm. I can full heatedly assure each and everyone of you here, that no Xeno invasion will ever reach Rorke Primaris. Our orbiting stations are well equipped to deal with such primative invasions. Had this been an actual emergency, the alarms would have gone off."

Bromhead took a moment of silence, looking around the room. As did the nobles present, a sigh of relief filled the air. "There...you see? There is absolutely nothing to worry about."


The Servant arrived at the Vox Chambers of the Palace. Turning through the signals he reached out to the orbital fleet.
"Attention, attention: This is the palace of Governor Lord Militant John Bromhead contacting any orbital station. Please respond..."
*static*
"Repeat this is the palace, what in the name of the golden throne is going on up there? We just witnessed a meteor shower over the Western Hab Blocks. What's going on up there?"

OOC:Thanks for the clarifications, was a bit confused, just wondering how many men I have just about in this party I'm leading.

Jackruss shifted over to a trot and the men followed suit behind him, except for one who thought that charging was a good idea, a bolt fixed that. Though the cultists opened fire upon them, their poor trigger discipline meant that casualties were minimal, only 3 dead and a few wounded. In fact some of the more bloodthirsty cultists charged right into the grenades path, it made Jackruss imperceptibly shiver. So this is what chaos is like, forcing humans into violence, depravity and despair.

Suddenly he was ripped back out of thought by the explosion of the grenades, "CHARGE! FOR THE EMPEROR!" he heard himself say, spurring his mount into a gallop. The clattering of hooves filled the air as the Praetorians burst through the smoke of the grenades, lances ripping through the corrupted humans with righteous fury. Those who weren't speared were trampled by the geneticly modified steeds, turned into bloody paste by their sharpened horseshoes. As those less "dedicated" cultists began to flee, the bloodmadened ones still fought on, dragging men from their mounts and shiving and beating the poor souls to death. Though they were finally stabbed and hacked into submission.

"Right, come on you rascals! Do you want to live forever?" That provoked a ragged cheer, as the cantered off towards the vehicle depot now that Jackruss knew who he was facing, it would be imperitive to protect them from these cultists.

*the Brotherhood closed in on the comms tower with oddly no resistance, they all grew anxious to kill something, they all approached the base, but Alexander held up his hand for them to stop just out of the base's weapon's range, the cultist had his mob a little way back out of both reverence and fear, mostly fear*

"you, come here, so you want to please the gods?"

*cultist nods vigorously*

"then keep up"

*looks at the Havoc* "blow a hole in the wall right there when we charge"

*activates vox amplifier in his throat, greatly increasing his voice so all around and even the enemy in the base could hear them*

"YOUR HOUR OF RECKONING HAS ARRIVED! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE! YOUR SOULS WILL BURN!"

*and with this the Brotherhood Of The Faithful charged across the field to the comms base, with the cultists trying to keep up with the frenzied charge, a large hole being ripped into the wall (hope you dont mind me making your character shoot something ) Alexander being the first through the breach, las shots bouncing off of his ancient and warped armor, vox amplifier still on*

*a dark laughter echoing around the area from Alexander* "YOU BELIEVE YOU CAN ACTUALLY HARM ME?" *saws a man in half who was unfortunate enough to be standing too close* *more slow laughter as he stands there holding his arms out, chain axe in each hand as the guardsmen have a moment of shock over the roughly 9-10 feet tall monster that just killed their sergeant as if he were nothing, then the rest of the Brotherhood caught up and the mayhem began, surging past their lord still standing there, a full head taller than most of his warriors, the guardsmen regained their senses and opened fire, mowing down the front row of cultists who had managed to catch up, before being in turn butchered by the screaming Khornates, Alexander lowered his arms, having done the most moral damage to the mortals as he could at this point, decided to get to the fun part, turning off his vox amplifier, leaps through the air landing atop a commissar trying to direct the men to stand against the madmen, laughing madly as he crushed the man and butchered the nearby guardsmen*

'this will be good' Alexander thought to himself as he saw the guardsmen setting up a heavy bolter position further down the row of buildings*

OOC: i love fighting men who have never seen Chaos before, it lets me do cool stuff like that to try and amplify the fear they are experiancing