@supertinyking@Nightknight@Absolis@Gentlemanvaultboy

A single duel. Interesting. It certainly appeared that this strange beastman would be a worthy opponent in single combat. He had fought Enki without a gunman of his own, and dealt serious damage, a feat in and of itself. The 'devil' would need to be seen as a serious threat. Viral moved into a rather unorthodox stance, nearly crossing his arms while pointing the blade inwards. Viral's combat style was entirely based on abusing his superior agility to catch his opponents by surprise, and defying expectations. He had learned from an old enemy that even a single surprise attack can turn the tide of a fight.

Shooting forward, Viral shifted into a series of quick slashing strikes, his blade moving like a bolt of lightning through the air as he bobbed and weaved in place, following Viral around. He didn't circle, and didn't even really dodge to the side, maintaining a duelist's relative position while waving around like a piece of gras in the wind, aiming the blade to take advantage of chinks if his opponent's armour, often taking a shot at Firebrand's relatively exposed head. "I will end this quickly! You'll see why I am the Captain of the Human Extermination Squad!"

@supertinyking
The figure batted the sheath out of the air with the sword in his off hand, even as he once more called on his strange magic. He stepped aside of the tongue at the last moment, recognizing it as a threat. This figure moved with inhuman grace and agility, dodging an attack even as Ozo initiated it, even as the magic it called upon flowed around him. As Ozo moved close enough to strike the spell was completed, a blast of energy shooting outwards, emanating from the stranger. Everything nearby was blasted backwards and burned, and Ozo would suffer the same fate. When he stood once more his opponent would be standing in the middle of a small crater, the air filled with the smell of burning corpses and a strange stinging smell that lingers on the mind.

However, the stranger was ready for his next trick. A strange white mist covered the being, cloaking it from view for a moment. And when the mist slowly siphoned away, it was like a completely opponent had appeared where the previous had been but moments before. This figure wore a massive suit of steel plated armour. The armour had an almost golden sheen, and was of unknown origin. It included white decorative cloths and golden jewelry. And as the figure stepped, the ground beneath his feet cracked, indicating an immense weight. This was not an armour that could be worn by normal humans.

The figure hefted a massive blade, forged from a shining white material and adorned with golden patterns and runes. It was almost 2 meters long in total, wielded in one hand, and it exuded an almost divine presence, a glowing white sheen that moved across the blade, a slight yellow-golden glow along the edge. As he did so, glowing lightning enveloped the weapon, the very blade seemingly turning into a solid beam of writing golden energy. The enemy moved into a slow bow, after which it stepped forward, swinging the massive weapon like it was a much smaller sword, aiming to slice Ozo in half.

@supertinyking@Nightknight@Absolis@Gentlemanvaultboy@thewizardguy

Viral wasn't interested in seeing what everyone else thought of their little honor duel, darting forward almost as soon as he had gotten done talking. Firebrand could have taken to the air and just peppered Viral with fireball at his leisure, until Viral was roasted enough to make an excellent dinner. It would be the demonic thing to do. The humans had some very rude words they'd invented for someone that won like, though, and Firebrand would rather they weren't applied to him. So he did the stupid thing and stayed on the ground as the Beastman closed to melee.

Firebrand wondered what sort of madman had taught this creature to fight as literally millennia of battlefield experience struggled with Viral's attacks, at once wild and extremely controlled. He saw a lot coming. All battle had a rhythm to it, if you knew where to look. Look at the way a opponent breathed, at the direction of his eyes, at the way he held his weapon and the tensing of his muscles. Many attacks were blocked by the bracelets on his wrists, others by him turning to interpose his armor, still others found never found purchase as Firebrand was just not there anymore. Many, however, landed home. Little jolts of pain flew up his arms as gashes opened up in them. He was thankful for the fortifying power of the armor talisman, could feel it hardening his skin against the bites of the blade, but it wouldn't be enough. The blows were too wild, Viral was too fast, and Firebrand was too old. He let one of the blows to his head slip through and swung his horn into the oncoming strike. The blade scraped down the side and bit lightly into his head, electing a pained grunt from the Demon. Viral didn't show any sign of slowing down, but he definitely was.

He breathed deep, felt the hot air swirling in his throat, and exhaled a whirling torrent of wind right between them. The tornado was as tall as they were, flashes of fire swirling in its depths as it plopped down and whirled there on the battlefield. Firebrand gripped the earth with his feet to keep himself from being pulled in and waited there, mouth half open and full of fire, to see what became of Viral.

@thewizardguy

Mithias couldn't help but feel intimidated by the large, imposing architecture of the Imperium of Man, the angels, the gold, the spires. These beings literally worshipped their ruler. It was no joke they call him the god-emperor and believed it. They were unified, powerful, oppressive. It reminded Mithias of something, a ping of fear echoing from an ancient past, from a memory he could not recall, and at the very same time, he felt a longing. The two feelings were a complete contradiction within him. These people killed vampires, and yet, he felt as though he belonged with them. He loved them... Was he mad??

Containing himself to a silent awe, Mithias patiently observed his emotions and inwardly searched for an explanation. He did not struggle as he was marched around and went with his escort quite agreeably. He needed the ear of those who could make the decision to defend this world, and he would not jepordize his chance at that. The Imperium would either listen and help, or they would kill him and Arcadia would die anyway. Finally, he entered the grand hall with the cookies and was relieved of his escort.

Mithias listened with his heightened senses to the sounds echoing off the arching ceiling. The acoustics were great in here, with soundwaves converging in specific spots on the floor. Fear left him. The scent of cookies was soothing even in undeath. For a brief moment, he was able to find peace in this oversized sarcophagus. His thoughts cleared. His clothes were nearly dry.

The Primarch himself then entered. The red, glowing eyes were a familiar sight, as many beings, including vampires, had them, but the solidly black skin was not what Mithias had expected. He knew this being was no vampire, but was he in fact, human? Seeing the demonic-looking being take a seat, Mithias did the same. There was no awkward ritual of greeting, nor strange cultural expectations to fumble over. They both merely sat down together. It was equal, and it was peaceful.

Vulcan opened with an interesting tale about the value of small things. This too, was unexpected, yet revealed to Mithias that the being across the table from him was nothing like a mindless warmonger. That was such a relief. Mithias nodded in agreement and with some degree of appreciation and curiosity, reach over the table to take the cookie Vulcan had set down. He looked at it, knowing it was some secret lost ages ago, a thing that this being's father had probably once made. Because of that, it was itself precious. Mithias himself couldn't remember his origins.

"I will tell you everything I know." Holding the cookie, he looked directly at Vulcan's red eyes. "As soon as the peace meeting was attacked, I was specifically spared and herded toward the one that was controlling the creatures. He used them to bring me to him so that he could charge me with delivering his message." Mithias seemed to grow pained and unsettled as he spoke. "His name was Alucard. He also called himself Dracula and said that he was my 'kin.' He was a vampire, like me. I am sure of it, but I can't for the life of me understand why... I feel like I know him. I am not sure I don't know him, but he did tell me that there were many versions of reality, and that we may have met in another universe as different versions of ourselves, or something to that effect. Regardless, he said that he serves yet another master, and that he has been ordered to use the creatures to wipe this world clean. He said he would give us 7 days to prepare, and that I was to inform all of Arcadia's factions of his plan, so that we could band together for some laughable final battle against the creatures. And even if we won, he said, he would then appear himself and personally execute us, all of us." Mithias seemed kinda pissed about this last part. "This Alucard is a fiend and must be stopped. I came to you first, because I saw how Kaldor Drago fought them. He seemed to know what they were. You must also know. Tell me, and tell me there's hope."

Vulga Remmington

Vulga was wary of the strange energy being that had landed on the station, but it did not seem to be particularly hostile, as such he would tolerate it's existence for the time being. Vulga instead took this opportunity to except the invite to approach and tend to Martin, though judging by his rigor and speed of his actions, it seemed that he did not need it.

Nevertheless, Vulga did at least give offer to give him medical supplies should he need it. After which, he began to speak to him. "It is lucky you are unarmed. I know not what circumstances have brought you to this predicament, nor why you sent a distress signal, but I was ordered to account for the well being of any and all personnel behind signal. Judging just by appearances that you have not suffered any significant injuries, I do not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, but I strongly believe there is safety in numbers. As such, I will secure your life until these fine gentlemen manage to escort you to civilization." Which he would. Knowing that Martin possessed some pertinent information for his master, it would be unwise to let him die. Better to have this mortal to be lax in suspicion.

@thewizardguy @supertinyking @Tyki

@Tyki@supertinyking@Nightknight
Rhemus looked over to the mutant, as he made his intentions clear to the anomalous xeno. It was certainly a fiery exchange of words, and although he wouldn't have admitted it, Rhemus liked this guy's spunk. He would certainly make a welcome addition to the New Imperium's science and military departments, if this went well. But for the moment, perhaps 'spunk' would need to take a second seat to a more nuanced approach to the situation, although this xenos at the very least did not appear hostile. "In that case, welcome to Arcadia. I would be happy to provide further information on the planet's current state, but my current mission requires that I make haste towards the information I am attempting to retrieve." The 'primitive' comment had not been lost on Rhemus, but he decided not to pick a fight based on absent-minded insults, especially not when the stakes were so high. Instead he gave the creature a curt nod, and gestured for his men to lower their weaponry, which they did slowly.

It did not escape his grasp, however, that Vulga practically ignored the strange creature. The small human acted in a way most inconsistent with general weak-minded humanity, but also inconsistent with that of a soldier. To move towards a tactical objective in such a leisurely fashion was the methodology of someone with nothing to fear, one that was practically never adopted by a human. Rhemus had been suspicious before, of course, but his suspicions were only mounting. Even if this figure's words had not been a lie, he had not told the whole truth, and Rhemus would need to make sure to break the truth from him later. Inter-faction conflict be damned, he would not allow one to keep a secret from the Dark Angels on a high-priority mission.

"Now, show us the data in question." Rhemus pushed Martin forward by the soldier, tired of interruptions. He had received several updates from HQ after landing, including the confirmation of Tyranid activity on the planet. It was quite possible that this data was in some way connected to the Tyranid threat, making it all the more credible and all the more vital. This also meant they would need to wrap this up as quickly as humanly possible, considering their assistance might be required in combatting this threat. The Tyranid were known for rapid and unstoppable advances, as well as stunningly complex traps and subtle preparations. An attack on Arcadia could be devastating, and losing the Golden Throne would certainly doom all of humanity.

@Gentlemanvaultboy@supertinyking@Nightknight@Absolis@Gentlemanvaultboy

Slashing, ducking and diving, Viral fought like a furious and unrelenting beast. Heavy blows missed or grazed him as he rained strikes down on his opponent. But this 'demon' was no slouch either, as Viral's blades were deflected from their mark by skillful use of his opponent's heavy armour. It was a style of fighting Viral was not used to, as the use of heavy armour was all but dead on his world. Both struggled to apply a lifetime of combat experience to their opponent's odd style of fighting, making for a fight of constant adaptation and shifts in stance, as each attempted to predict the other's moves. However, Viral knew he had the advantage with his superior speed, capable of avoiding all of the larger and bulkier demon's attacks. His stamina was practically unlimited, making it merely a matter of time before this opponent was taken down, and he would move on to the next.

Then, Firebrand did something unexpected. A wave of fire and wind burst from the creature's mouth, launching Viral in the air even as it burned skin and fur alike. After several movements of being tossed around within the flaming tornado like a ragdoll he slammed into the ruins of a nearby cabbage stand. Still on fire, he slowly clawed his way out of the rubble, pieces of wood and nails sticking through his flesh all over his body. Hissing, he removed them, even as flesh regrew and burned skin peeled off. The new look appeared to feature a significantly increased amount of revealed bone and shattered limbs, although that appeared to be fixing itself. "Is... that... all you've got? Heh. This won't take much longer." Once more recovering his blade from the ground, Viral shot forward, ready to reengage his enemy as if nothing had happened.

@thewizardguy@Nightknight@supertinyking

While most would likely be offended or otherwise non-plused in some way by the sheeple's comments about him, Xel'rath simply states "and there in lies my authority of judgement: exclusivity from the ability to be judged as well as the knowledge of an unfathomable number of races greater than the norm. What most find primitive is simple a lable people such as humans and other, similar species use to define types of objects. for instance, a traditional firearm would be classified as primitive yet it could kill anyone here under the right circumstances, the same with a spear or even just a humble stone. While energy weaponry such as lasers, plasma, even railguns to an extent, are classified as 'advanced' just simply because they use some form of technology beyond chemical and mechanical to trigger their effects" in a complete monotone while he walks, scanning his surroundings, detecting the unease the crowd now held upon his arrival as well as the unease the commander held towards the figure that had gone on ahead.

"a human more in line with the average. rather uninteresting, predictable... yet you find issue with him?" the being muses, directing his question at the commander after a brief scan of vulga, seeming to gain much even without complete deconstruction, his scanner seeming to be on near constantly as his head swivels from building to building, the only real reason he was following them being to document the information for himself. "oh, and commander, do not feel bad at being called primitive. It is simply the nature of your race to be below another in terms of technology for that is how things work, there will always be someone higher up just like how those that you seem primitive will always seem primitive to another and so on and so on." Xel'rath adds as if in after thought, having read the slight agitation despite the psionic shielding, the barrier simply being another energy for him to manipulate to his whims

@Gentlemanvaultboy@supertinyking@Nightknight@Absolis@thewizardguy

Firebrand watched as something was flung from the heart of the tornado into a nearby cabbage stand, sending what vegetables had survived rolling across the ground. Those that rolled toward him were mostly snatched up and consumed by the whirlwind still ranging beside him. The smell of burning flesh was overpowered by the smell of burning cabbage. Firebrand caught the last with his foot before it was pulled in, a futile effort to stop the smell from getting stronger. The windstorm died down and the concentrated stink spread out across the battlefield.

Then Viral burst from the remnants of the stand, broken and burned and alive. Firebrand almost sagged as he watch the beastmans wounds nit themselves together. Not out of fear or weariness, but disappointment. He'd mistaken simple bravado for suicidal bravery. Here he'd though he found someone with the death defying spirit of the Silver Knight. It was irrational, but as Viral charged back to melee he felt robbed.

So he threw the cabbage at him.

It was a very good throw, considering he'd done it with his foot. The vegetable flew right at Viral's face. For a moment it was like the moon hanging in the night sky. Then, as it was just within arms reach, a blue Buster burned through it and shot at him like an arrow. The stink was ghastly.

@thewizardguy

As the figure bows, Ozo does as well, his skin turning a metallic grey. "Interesting. Another transformer?" Ozo thinks, before he sees the figure swings, he swings about, firing out a energy saw blade, hoping to delay the sword strike, as he attempts to throw himself out of the way of the strike, but only manages partially, the energy cutting a gash into Ozo's side, him stumbling back, before he growls. "Ok....this is bad...I need to think of something, and quick...."
Quickly firing off a volley of blades, Ozo begins to back away, attempting to get out of melee with this foe, who clearly would have the advantage in melee. He hoped the impact of the saws would stagger him, or at the very least, slow his advance.

@Gentlemanvaultboy

Viral moved his blade to block the cabbage disdainfully, before a blast of blue fire launched straight through it. Were he in better shape he might have dodged to the side, but his nose was filled with the smell of burnt flesh, and his eyes were covered in his own blood. His blade caught the fireball, but, the nature of flame being what it is, failed to do much to stop it. Blue flames rushed over him and through him, his entire right side being engulfed as he shouted out. He was forced to his knees, and when the flames began to fade, it was clear that his entire right arm had been burned to ash. His blade lay on the floor not far from him, glowing brightly and warped by the immense heat. No longer fit to act as an implement of war, much like Viral himself. Even his regeneration would not soon return his arm to him, and without it he was little more than prey.

Breathing heavily, Viral leaned on his one remaining arm, staring down at the ground. He made no attempt to get up, or find another weapon. His pain would slow him too greatly, his missing limb hinder his combat capabilities. Just moving right now was an arduous task indeed, every bone in his body screaming at him to just lie down and die. Every breath filled his lungs with fire, and somehow his missing arm still felt like it was on fire. And yet, slowly, Viral forced his way to his feet. He stood, albeit barely, opposite Firebrand, glaring him in the eye as he drew ragged breath. "Well? Kill me, and get this over with. I've got places to be." Even Lord Genome's powers had their limits, and as such so did Viral's 'immortality'.

@Gentlemanvaultboy @thewizardguy @Wraithblade6 @Absolis

Threek waited for a movement. He waited for the skeleton man to do something. He, did not. So, with a quick swing of his staff, Threek knocks Mortitmus to the ground, and shrugs, the skele-man sorta out cold. Then, he noticed the fire-tornado, and then, he sees Viral, and hears Viral's quip. God damn it, why was he sent to save someone with such a level of honor like this? Where was the honor in death? Defeat? He held honor close, but obviously, to him, it meant something different. Cracking his knuckles, he raises his hands into the air...then it hit him. He noticed the shots over his body, some of Cyano's shots having connected, piercing his limbs, but none hit his torso. Lucky for him, as this would require him able to take a bit more of a beating.

"You fools! I will not allow this! Horned Rat, lend me the power I need, to cast the Dreaded Thirteenth Spell!" Threek shouts into the heavens, and suddenly, energy crackles over his body, as his eyes glow a sickly green, and green power begins to cover his body. "Grrrrrr...." Threek began, charging his attack. He hoped, he prayed, that they'd all turn their attention to him. That Viral would run, given this chance. He was risking his life for a person he'd only knew though his order to save his life, but he would be damned if he just let some deamon wannabe kill his V.I.P.
"COME GET SOME YOU LILLY LIVERED SHITHEADS!" Threek screams, his rage fueling his power, turning the power from Green, to Red. What appears to be the shadow of something far larger than him forms behind him, a lumbering horned creature, the shadow cast by the energy glowing from Threek.

@Wraithblade6


Silently, the Primarch sat and listened to his strange guest, allowing the tale to play out. Certainly these were worrying words. As Mithias finished his plea, the giant took a moment to contemplate his next actions. For just a moment he allowed himself to reminisce on the brief peace he had achieved, before condemning himself to war. "As long as there are men willing to fight for what is right, there is always hope. This is one of the lessons my father taught me." Vulkan sighed as he stood. "If this enemy wishes a battle, then we shall give him what he wants. But we will not fall as easily as he believes. There is no force in the multiverse capable of standing up to the unbridled will of humananity united towards a common goal. This is the lesson we will teach him. We can fight the Tyranid, but only if we all fight as one. But the Emperor is with us, and good men yet draw arms against evil." With a gesture, Vulkan summoned a small army of servitors, mechanically augmented human computers, who marched out from behind the pillars. "Prepare all weaponry, reinforce the border. I want every capable man and women guarding the shore. Order a maintained light bombardment of the area formerly occupied by the peace building. Send in servo skulls in order to track our enemies, and ensure this sector is safe from a space-based attack. Prepare for Project Omega."

Without pause, Vulkan turned back to Mithias, even as the biomechanical servants disappeared back into the pillars, presumably to prepare the Imperium for the task ahead of it. "You claim this Alucard is a vampire, as you are. As such, you will be required to share any and all information on the known weaknesses and abilities of this species, as well as a blood sample. We will develop special countermeasures to deal with this threat, and prepare for this master." He frowns, before smiling brightly, as if he had an idea. "I wouldn't trust your Alliance to wax my table, but you are a good man." With another gesture, a tall figure in black Astartes armour and wielding wolverine-like silver claws appears from behind a nearby pillar. "From now on, you are the official commander of the 3rd company of the Black Dragons chapter. Approximately 100 of our warriors are now under your control. You have full permission to deploy in Imperium space, and to act independently from the Empire. You may deploy these warriors alongside your Alliance forces, or individually, as you see fit. You possess more information on the enemy than any other, and if he felt the need to contact you personally, you may play a greater role in this conflict than you realise. I will gather the other factions, including your masters, and prepare for a unified council of war to deal with this threat. Feel free to make use of the Imperium's armoury." The armoured black figure hesitated for a moment, seemingly confused, before kneeling down in Mithias' direction.

As Vulkan marched off, he briefly slowed down, looking back. He winked mischieviously. "have a cookie on your way out, Mithias. It may be a while before I'll have the time to bake another batch."

---

@Absolis@Savato@Flamelord
Two signals were launched from the Rock that day, both direct broadcasts from the Lord Vulkan, Primarch of the Salamanders and Acting Lord of the New Imperium. The first was an unsecured broadcast sent out from every station the Imperium possessed, practically blasting every other non-secured transmission out of the air. Almost every frequency resounded with this call. "This planet has been compromised by a powerful xenos threat referred to as the Tyranid Swarm. The entirety of Arcadia is under threat. For this reason, Arcadia offers shelter to any who wish for it, provided they sacrifice any weapons they may be carrying it. Any criminal or deserter who wishes for amnesty or sanctuary is to be granted it, and the blessing of the Emperor, should they fight by the side of the Imperium, or any other faction opposing the Tyranid Swarm. This message is not a warning. It is a call to war."

The second message was sent to several specific locations, and encrypted in a specific manner to ensure it's contents remained private. It was a level of security those involved would be both familiar and comfortable with. Each of the acknowledged factions received this message specifically, targetting the highest hierarchical rank the Imperium could reach directly. "The threat that destroyed the peace meeting forms a threat to all of Arcaida's inhabitants. An informant by the name of Mithias Varomere has granted information of crucial importance, and a secondary meeting will be established at the time and coordinates below to share and discuss this information. For the moment, all other matters are to be discarded in favour of the destruction of this threat. The ever-expanding threat of the Tyranids, if left unchecked, could soon devour this entire galaxy. Through a process of assimilation and alteration they devour all usable minerals on a planet, leaving it nothing but a barren lifeless wasteland. It is estimated that within 14 days this world will have been completely devoured, along with all organic life on the surface. According to the Imperium's past experience with these critters, 4 months after the planet is devoured over 50% of the galaxy will have been reduced to nothingness. Before a hundred years have passed, this entire universe will be nothing more than a hive of Tyranid, and considering the existence of the terminals, they might swiftly spread to devour many other universes afterwards in an exponentially growing multiversal purge." The message contained coordinates located in the wastes between the Alliance and Imperium territories, near the city of Winnipeg. The timestamp required all leaders to be there the next day. It also ensured that Vulkan himself would attend. No rules and conditions as to who may or may not attend were specified, nor was there any warning as to military presence. It appeared such matters were no longer relevant.

@thewizardguy@Tyki @Nightknight
"Oi, don't shove me..." Martin grumbles, before he begins to fiddle with a pda. "I have the data on me...It's in my pda" Martin the space marine. He had most of the data stored on him..or, err, in him, as it were. Made him more valuable, and less likely to get shived to death by some xenophobic assholes. However, revealing his robotic implants too, left him with less options. Having it be on his device, which was partially true, helped absolve both issues. "It's dna locked. You need me, alive, in order to get to it....so my survival, is paramount...speaking of which..." Martin starts, before pulling out a strange looking cigar, and lighting it up. "...It's medicine. I need it to help handle stress...." Martin tells them. In reality, this was a lie. He just enjoyed it, as it was simply station grown weed. With the stress of working in such a violent and destructive place, he needed a way to unwind, and he'd be damned if anyone, space marine, energy being, or..whatever Vulga turned out to be, was, would stop him from relaxing even still.

Unaware of the fact that they were being followed, the Tel'tak headed towards Chulak at all due speed, in preparation for their mission. All the men had been hand picked for their loyalty and skill, to overcome any challenge that might arise along the way. As far as they were concerned this had been an easy escape, though of course they were also worried more about the Ehtereals and ADVENT rather than the Imperium.

Soon enough though they arrived at their destination, a window opening up to admit them into orbit over Chulak. Once they had arrived the Tel'tak would begin scanning, checking the habitability of the planet and looking for signs of life, just in case. They didn't know what to expect out here, after all.

The scans came back fairly rapidly though, as one would expect. The planet was habitable, and with basically the same sort of atmosphere and climate of Chulak back home, but it also had no signs of previous life on it. If there had been Goa'uld in this universe, they had apparently never made it here. COmpared to Arcadia it was strange, but the Jaffa didn't put much thought into it at the moment.

With that confirmed they headed down to the planet's surface, settling down in an open clearing where they could set up a base camp. The Stargate would be moved out to the ground itself where the Jaffa would experiment a bit before managing to dial Arcadia, the Gates connecting between planetary systems as they did back back in their original universe. Which was, understandably, a good thing.

"Lord Ba'al," one of the Jaffa reported. "We are transmitting our survey data to you now. Chulak is uninhabited, and we should have no issue establishing a base here.

"Good," replied the hologram of the Supreme Commander, smiling as he looked around. "I will send reinforcements to you shortly. With the recent events we are going to need this base shortly. Continue and make sure that nothing ruins my plans."

"Understood, my Lord," the lead Jaffa agreed with a respectful bow. More troops would come through when the gate shut down, this time sent over from the Arcadian side of the network, from Jaffa to defensive emplacements and the beginnings of structures. The Goa'uld would not be doing this in half measures, that was for sure.

---

Back on Arcadia, the message sent out by the Imperium quickly reached the Goa'uld, delivered to the Supreme Commander as well as his wife as they relaxed in their joint throne room of the capital. The chairs were certainly elegant, not all that comfortable, but it wasn't like they spent all that much time in it anyway.

"So, it appears that the Imperium wish to meet again, this time to discuss the new threat that has appeared," Ba'al noted as he looked over the message before glancing over to Qetesh. It wasn't much of a surprise, he was just taken aback by how rapid it was. It had barely been half a day and already they were calling with supposedly vital information.

Qetesh let out a harrumph, glancing at the message before tossing it away. "The insolence of them. they claim to order us like we are simply soldiers to be called upon? These beings are a threat, but not an insurmountable one." oh yes, she was already planning to bring in more forces, and to erase whatever sting had been left from her retreat earlier. That was all there was to it.

An eyebrow rose as Ba'al shifted to look more towards his wife, practically unaware of the others in the room as he focused on the conversation at hand. "Still, it would not look favorably upon us to simply avoid the meeting. We could earn their gratitude and goodwill, which may be useful later."

That was dismissed with a wave by Qetesh, who did have a tendency to be a lot less practical than Ba'al. "My dear husband, don't you remember how they talked about us, how all the other factions here seem to view us with disdain and outright hatred? Why should we come simply because they call us? If these Tyranidd are as much of a threat as they are supposedly claiming them to be, then they will need all the allies they can get."

Ba'al grinned even as he hummed in agreement. "And if they so desperately need allies, they will have to come to us. I knew there was a reason I married you. Besides your good looks, of course." Well, they still had some time to decide what they wanted to do, but Ba'al was fairly confident in his decision. Thus far the Goa'uld had been treated as a third rate power that hardly worthy of notice. No longer, not if he had anything to say about it.

@supertinyking@Tyki



Rhemus sighed at the creature's Eldar-esque superiority complex. Apparently some things remained constant, even in the multiverse. The weird psychic alien would always feel too good for the world. Regardless, it's mannerisms annoyed him more than it's tone. "Clearly your species is too 'advanced' to understand concepts such as privacy. Be aware that my people take such concepts very seriously. Read my thoughts again, and I will have you killed." The words were no bluff, nor were they born from pointless pride. The Dark Angels were masters of secrets, guarding knowledge that could end or start galaxy-spanning wars. Understandably, they were quite strict about mind reading, and were this not a tense social situation the xenos would already have been killed, just for having the potential to read the mind of an Interromancer. Such was the dedication to secrecy possessed by the Dark Angels. Should Xel'Rath ignore the warning and continue to prod the Librarian's mind, Rhemus would instantly and unquestioningly give the order to open fire upon the xenos.

As Martin revealed the data, the Librarian gave it a brief look over. Not being a techmarine, he had little understanding of what this information meant (maybe they should have brought one of those), but this was the objective they had been sent to retrieve. A quick message sent via Vox communications alerted the Thunderhawk they'd held in reserve. The large gunship flew in soon after, landing in a nearby open zone which had been located and prepared by Squad Delta. The entire time Squad Alpha kept Xel'Rath in their sights, not quite readying their weapons, but definitely prepared for a fight. Martin would be given a brief guide on the Imperium's politics and rulership by Amon, as well as the information that if he so wished he would be granted full citizenship within the Imperium. Alternatively, he could choose to work in the Imperium's Militia Mechanicum, an alternative scientific branch from the Adeptus Mechanicum formed from local scientists and factions who chose to ally themselves with the Imperium.

Meanwhile, Rhemus also received the Imperium's emergency message on his Voxcaster. Frowning, he gestured for his fellow marines to standby, before sharing the bad news. "It appears that the Imperium is mobilizing against the Tyranid threat." He turned towards Xel'Rath. "Alien. A dangerous race of monstrous creatures has emerged on this planet, and will soon begin devouring it. Our Imperium is currently attempting to rally this world's factions against this threat. I would like to personally ask for your assistance in dealing with this threat, with the promise that the Imperium will attempt to satisfy any requirements you see fit to apply." Rhemus was sincere in this offer, knowing that even a single being could make a vast difference in such wars, and Xel'Rath's telepathic prowes might be immensely useful to gather information, even if he turned out to be useless in combat. Meanwhile, the Thunderhawk landed behind him, it's large forward-facing door already lowering to allow the gathered forces to board.

@supertinyking


The figure raises it's shield to block the sawblades, which seem to bounce harmlessly off of it. It was made from some off super-hard metal, far tougher than a similar object made from steel, in addition to being slightly magical. However, as Ozo fired a second barrage of sawblades, the warrior instead moved to slap them aside with his sword, charging forward and through them while keeping his shield at the ready for additional attacks. His movements were impossibly practised, elegant and yet practical, comparable only to the true prodigies of combat only rarely seen among mortal races. He never halted his advance as he swung blow after blow, forcing Ozo backwards rapidly. Even as Ozo thought to have gained a mokment's respite, the figure raises a strange symbol in on hand, and a blast of force shot out from it. The white wave crashed explosively into the ground near Ozo, launching him into a nearby wall. Apparently this form too was quite capable of wielding magic.

Slowly but purposefully the figure marched forward, tossing a car aside with one hand as he made his way to Ozo's position. It appeared that this fight was going to end soon, either way. However, before attacking, the stranger paused. He gestured towards the ground, and a series of fiery runes glowed up brightly, spelling out a message. It said... "Praise the Sun!" It was then that the figure struck, slashing downwards with their lightning-covered blade. If Ozo didn't move, he would be simultaneously sliced into pieces and electrocuted.

@supertinyking@thewizardguy

"tyranid... terrifying from the feelings you're surpressing... and before you begin shooting at me, i do not need to read minds to tell someone's thoughts. a simple shift in tone, suppression of the furrowing of a brow, even the things you're definitely trained not to do give away your thoughts as easilly as if reading them from a book just from the electrical and chemical emmissions you expend in not doing them. As i can also tell you find me to have a superiority complex, let me get one thing straight, human, my 'species' as you would label me is singular, in my natural state i am merely an ever hungering mass of plasma, a star devouring mass of energy. Yet it is the machinations of creatures such as you humans that must regulate, control, and categorize that has led to the complete implosion of societies and civilizations a countless number of time. Your empire has risen and it will fall, whether to the tyranid, another outside force, or it's own hubris just as those same outside forces and tyranid will fail and wither to nothing. When I call something primitive it is not when compared to myself, I myself exist as an outlier and therefore cannot be held to the same standards, no, when i call something primitive it is in comparison to the sum total of the countless civilizations i've come across in the countless millinea i've existed with a conciousness in." Xel'rath rattles off as he studies the imperial civilization, seeming to simply scan things though if they had an immense amount of equipment out they could probably detect the occasional missing molecule or two from their structures taken as samples in order to ascertain the make up of them.

"oh and, privacy is a lie. Secrets kept will always find a way to light and if it's not obvious that they have, then all the more dangerous." Xel'rath adds as an afterthought as he holds his hands out, the light seeming to harden as machines constructed themselves from nothing in his palms. Two rather small, only about the size of a baseball, drones began hovering upon their completion, xel'rath seeming to communicate with them wordlessly for but a few seconds before they zoomed off too fast for even the aiming equipment to track should they attempt to shoot them down. "don't worry, i almost never equip drones with weapons, they're just there to monitor and catalouge things... except this one, i don't like it when people launch missiles at me, the fallout tends to kill interesting specimens." xel'rath states, pointing out a miniscule, pen-sized drone that had been pretty much constantly hovering behind his head since the beginning, but most people probably thought it was just a decoration of some sort and the writer forgot to mention it so FUCK IT. Moving on, xel'rath adds "about your attempt to gain assitance with your tactical endeavors. i'll do it in return for all personal, private, classified, otherwise secretive, and public knowledge, if you hide any from me then I will simply retrieve them. if you wish a demonstration of what you're paying for then bring the most difficult to destroy creation your military posseses... and just because i enjoy being mean to magic users, blind magic users slash psychics or whatever you call them" starting his price high and being blunt about what he wanted since, frankly he didn't care to beat around the bush as the saying went.

@Flamelord
A burst of energy could be felt throughout the entire system, as the fabric of reality rippled and ruptured. A huge rip in space appeared near the edge of the system, purple lightning and fire bursting forth from it, surrounded in a cloud of strange material that appeared to dissipate moments after leaving this strange phenomenon. Energy readings from this rift would be absurd, but it would be clear this was an interdimensional phenomenon of some sort. Perhaps more worrying than the chaotic Warp energies, however, was the truly immense ship that slowly pushed it's way through them. Like a wall of steel the prow came first, an energy shield pushing away the unnatural energies of the warp as the Devastation entered realspace. Upon first glance, the ship might well have been mistaken for a flying castly of some description, covered in impossibly large and numerous canons after some orkish sense of fashion. But the immense thrusters and general design quickly made it clear that this was merely a spaceship of unconventional design, covered in towering parapets and walls, actual fabric flags and banners lining the ship itself in the hundreds. Of course, any ridicule one might have for the design was quickly suppressed by the realization that the immense canon mounted below what appeared to be it's prow-mounted ram was over 20x the size of the Tel'Tac itself, and the transport ship could have comfortably flown up the barrel had that not been the literal worst idea.

Company Master Dromari Arkon stood imperiously upon the main command deck, glaring down at the other command crew working below as vital information was forwarded to him via the voxel-piece which had been implanted into his skull. He was a grim-faced commander, veteran of many wars, with short grey hair and piercing eyes the colour of storm clouds. Nearly 200 years ago he had been impaled through the skull by an Eldar force blade, although that had only slowed him down. The eye he had lost was later replaced by the Adeptus Mechanicus, a mechanical little piece that extended along the side of his head until it touched the base of his spine. A nearby servitor rattled off the traits of the various planets in the system in it's monotone robotic voice, going over any signs that might be used to determine the nature and number of their enemies. A nearby techmarine meanwhile translated that from gibberish into something useful, informing him that a powerful energy signature had been detected on a nearby planet. While there was no significant enemy presence in the system, something had definitely used a significant amount of energy on the planet's surface mere moments ago.

For a moment, Dromari considered simply performing Exterminatus on the planet, the old tried-and-true method of erasing any and all opposition on the planet. Not even an Ork infestation was stubborn enough to survive that. And although the Devastation alone was not equipped for the full Exterminatus procedure, with some efforts they would probably be able to wipe away most of the surface and completely annihilate the atmosphere in just about a day. However, Azrael would have his head on a platter if he didn't at least confirm what the threat was before blowing it into oblivion. Besides, he was no fan of long-ranged combat. Truly, what was the point of serving the immortal Emperor if one didn't get to see the filthy buggers' faces when they were introduced to His might. "Prepare the Teleportarium for deployment procedure. I want a full Battle Company on the ground within the hour." He himself headed off, command of the ship automatically passing on to a nearby Techmarine. If combat broke out, he would need to be on the front lines.

---

Less than thirty minutes after the Devastation had first entered the system, without so much as a transmission indicating the intentions of the invaders, waves upon waves of Space Marines would appear on the surface. Drop Pods were launched down to increase the speed of deployment, carrying heavy armour and supplies, things too large to be teleported down. Weaponry was set up and assembled for combat, as an entire company mobilized for war, in what was perhaps the most hilariously out-of-proportion reaction since anyone reacted in any fashion to the Imperial Guard. After about ten minutes more of set-up, the by now undoubtedly prepared Goa'Uld would find a small army marching towards their temporary base, numbering approximately 100 marines and including no less than 7 tanks, in addition to several large artillery canons on wheels.

As for Dromari, he marched at the front of the group, surrounded by a Command Squad. His heavy Terminator Armour further augmented his height, and he cut an imposing figure, covered in seals and scrolls recounting his many deeds, as well as inscribing the blessings of the Emperor onto his very armour. His weapon of choice was the mighty Thunder Hammer, a weapon wreathed in constant lightning and carrying behind it the force of a cruise missile. In his off hand he held a Storm Bolter, a shorter-range version of the Bolter with two barrels, allowing for twice the usual amount of destruction. The Iron Halo mounted above his head projected a force field around him to defend him against enemy attacks. The veterans serving by his side served to relay his orders to the rest of the company, as well as supporting him in battle, the massive banner they carried forming a rallying point for the army in more ways than one.

The Goa'Uld would have their choice as to how to respond to this seemingly hostile force. They did not immediately enter the vicinity of their base, but rather had several strange floating skulls with mechanical implants fly around the area, presumably scanning the area and identifying any threats. Dromari's loud voice would echo out towards the Goa'Uld outpost. "It looks like a couple of xenos figured this was a good time to go breaking accords, eh men? Surrender at once, and we'll pack this little thing up quick. You'll be scanned for a Tyranid infection, and sent back home in one piece." The man's voice was the voice of a man who expected to be obeyed, although by moving ahead of the bulk of his army he had made himself vulnerable to attack. He was not entirely devoid of strategic insight, however, and a full unit of Whirlwind artillery tanks was primed and ready to fire from a nearby hill. The bulk of his army also wasn't far behind him, allowing them to rush in should their commander be attacked.

While the Goa'uld may not have been fortunate enough to immediate see the Imperium when they arrived, they noticed quickly enough. it would be stupid to not have some sort of active detecting system up, not until the base they had was fully established. Needless to say, if they could detect the Stargate being activated before (improbable though it might be), they would be able to detect it happening again as the news was reported in. The news of the Imperium approaching was not likely to go over well when it came down to it.

So while the army appeared outside the gates of the newly created Goa'uld base, there was activity from the approaching Goa'uld as well. By the time the Imperium had fully set up, they would find not much. The single Tel'tak, the Stargate, a dozen or so soldiers with staff weapons. Ultimately pitiful, compared to the might of this massive army that had been assembled before it. Then again, it wouldn't be the Imperium if there wasn't overkill involved.

Still, they would find one thing waiting for them. Specifically Ba'al, standing at the front of the Goa'uld camp, dressed in his imposing robes and looking as smug as ever. "This is sovereign territory of the Go'auld Star Empire," Ba'al proclaimed as he looked over the force that had been assembled, obviously unimpressed.

That said, he turned his attention to Dromari, regarding him carefully even as he spoke. "There was never any accord," he pointed out. "Merely an understanding, which I have decided is against my best interests. I seem to recall the summit where we were to agree to the accord being attached before it could be agreed to, and as such I have no reason to agree to a document that is not active in force, nor one that I am not bound by."

His arms folded across his chest, he took on a grin as he looked at the Imperium commander, his challenge made clear. "Depart from this planet immediately, and return to where you came from. Any attack or attempt to remove my Jaffa will be seen as a declaration of war against the Goa'uld Empire, and trust me Commander, that is a war you cannot win." That said, he waited to see what Drmari would do.

@thewizardguy