The Sacred Duty
Planet Kulth – year 40867
Numerous are the defensive positions left behind to planet Kulth’s major cities after the mighty WAAAGH! lead by the Warboss Gorgatz the Butcher ended at local year 4624. Various alien technology, Imperial Guard’s military stations and Orcs’ looted and self-made weapons were left behind when the war came to a halt. In normal circumstances, no army would leave anything salvageable for enemies but the situation was different in this conflict. The Emperor itself had given an order to his chosen, special warriors, The Space Marines that the planet Kulth must be purged and cleansed from the alien filth. Sacrificing entire battalion of Imperial Guard’s troops was the only option. The protocol and codex clearly states that no alien nor corrupted heretics should gain a foothold in this part of the galaxy. Massive evacuation amongst all the armies begun when the galactic bombardment fleet ‘The Righteous Fury’ begun to scorch the land.
It is rumoured that under the dust and rubble of Kulth is buried an ancient relic, Colossal MK-IV Titan, capable of destroying entire armies on its own with its nine-barrelled Star Cannons. This annihilator was produced to repel the Orc armies and destroying its source, ending the Greenskin threat once and for all. The Space Marines believe, that the ancient Titan’s plasma-cores are still functional, and with the aid of Servitors and Tech-marines it could be repaired and used for the purpose it was made for, once again. A small strike force of Space Marines was dispatched on the northern regions of planet Kulth. Their mission was the secure the Titan and wait for repair units and main part of the army to arrive. Unfortunately, it is not only the Space Marines who knows about the Titan. The Warboss Gorsak Skullcrusher is collecting his boyz to launch yet another WAAAGH! against the humanity, and his plans include building a mighty Garganth, an orc version of titan, by using the parts from MK-IV.
Now the history repeats itself, humanity is at war against the barbaric alien race. Will the Space Marines succeed on securing the Titan or shall the greenskin horde gather an unstoppable WAAAGH! powered by a scrap-build Garganth? Both of the armies, unaware of each others presences are marching against the final battle, which will most likely tell the fate of planet Kulth.
Dry blood, broken flagstones
Planet Kulth – year 40870
Planet Kulth, once the crown jewel of the Peripheral sub-sector, home to a billions of souls in its mighty industrial cities. Sitting in the very edge of the known space Kulth served as an outpost against the enemies of men. Only three years ago the whole sub-sector was all but doomed, as gargantuan battle ships of orcish Warboss Gorgatz the Butcher hang in the orbit. The massive orc horde continued to conquer and pillage the worlds and their rampage finally led them to Kulth. Seeking to eradicate all life and take the massive industries for their own, Warboss Gorgatz the Butcher led his fierce warriors to the gates of Kulth’s capital city, Monress. Here the Imperial Guard chose to take their final stand against the invading, brutal alien enemy. The green tide of orcs crashed against the city walls of Monress over and over again with seemingly endless numbers, and finally the defenders were overrun. While relentlessly slowing down the orcs, the Imperial Guard defenders pulled back towards the inner city. Facing down their darkest hour, the Imperial Guard’s last hope of survival lied in activating the still badly incomplete MK-IV Titan, possibly capable of turning the war to the defender’s favour. Vicious city fighting and numerous ambushes were laid down on orc’s path but the ‘WAAAGH!’ were nowhere to be stopped. In the planet’s eleventh moment came down the holy wrath of the Emperor himself, in the form of bombardment fleet ‘The Righteous Fury’. The last remnants of the Imperial Guard defenders were evacuated from the war torn city of Monress, as the Emperor’s finest laid down a mighty barrage. All that remained from the seemingly unstoppable ‘WAAAGH!’ raised by orc Warboss Gorgatz the Butcher was smoldering wreckage in the orbit. The broadside bombardment eradicated nearly all life from the planet.
Planet Kulth should be little more than a barren rock, with a few force domes dotting the wasteland with greenery, holding very little of interest to anyone. But the old battlegrounds often hold many secrets and forbidden knowledge best remain forgotten. In the outskirts of Monress lies Force Dome Agostia. The nature has taken its toll and many of the structures have crumbled. However, the astronomic array still stands alongside other planetary scanners. The information hidden in their databases could be used to pinpoint the location of long lost MK-IV titan.
Small combat patrol of Space Marines has been set off to Kulth, their mission is to secure and find the data slates that hold information of the titan’s last known location. However, what patrol did not know, was that they were watched and observed from a far. A bulky shadow stood amongst the ruins of a two story building. Gnarling and spitting, it lowered a crude and rusty spyglass, loaded its rifle and said to itself: “Dem humies are ‘ere..”
The Stationary Guns
The stationary guns are divided to 4 major categories. Every weapon must be in- and only in one of these categories. Make sure the other player knows which weapon belongs to what group.
The Lead Spitters: Every small arms weapon that can be “imaginated” as shooting bullets; Heavy-bolter, Big shoota, Stormbolter etc.
The Flamers: Every weapon that shoots by using ‘Flamer Template’.
The Plasma Weapons: Energy-type weapons; Multimeltas, Plasmaguns, Multilasers, Lascannons etc.
The Explosive Weapons: All the weapons that shoots by using either ‘Small template’ or ‘Ordnance template’. Also, weapons which are “imaginated” as explosive weapons even if they wont use templates, such as: Autocannons and Orcs’ Rokkit Launchas.
Notice: To shoot with Stationary Gun, player must have at least one model within 1” of the gun.
Stationary Guns use the same profile as they have in the army books.
Important Note: When firing with Stationary gun, player first declares target, as if firing with normal heavy or assault weapon. Then rolls a D6, on a roll of 1-2 player must roll another D6 and consult the Malfunction table for that weapon group, on a roll of 3-6 weapon shoots normally. Player must roll every time and for every weapon before shooting.
Designers Note: Roll of 1-2 significates some sort of malfunction in the weapon that causes abnormal behavior in the machine.
The Lead Spitters
1. Grabang: Weapon’s magazine explodes sending bullets to every possible direction. Every model within D6 inches takes a single Strength 2 hit. Remove the weapon from play.
2.5. Klak.. klak..: Gunner pulls the trigger several times but nothing happens. No shots are fired on this turn while the gunner tries to fix the weapon
6. Dakka dakka: The weapon has been heavily modified. Sparkling plasma shells burst out from the barrel when the trigger is pulled. Remains in play. The modified weapon has the following profile:
Modified Range S AP Type
Stationary Gun: 36” 5 5 Heavy 4, Gets Hot!
Note: When player rolls 6 on Malfunction table he may not roll it again on the following Malfunction table rolls. Consult the roll of 6 as a roll of 2-5.
1. Wheee.. Phut: The Flamer’s fuel tank is nearly empty and the fuel itself is decayed by some other liguid. Discount -1 from the flamer’s strength when fired.
2.3. Whizzz... Splort.. FOOM: Some debris has gathered in the fuel line of the Flamer. Fuel flies in the air for some time before catching fire. Roll D6, move forward the narrow end of the flamer template by the amount rolled.
4.5. Whee... Tumm: The Flamer backfires. Fire catches the fuel and explodes the fuel tank, flames, heated pieces of metal and rusty parts flies around. Put a small template on the top of the Stationary gun and every model under the template takes S3 hit on a roll of 4+. Weapon is then removed from play and no shots are fired.
6. Zah..zah..zah.. Splort.. WUTUMM: Debris has blocked the fuel line, causing massive pressure to the tip of it when trigger is pulled continually. Huge amount of fuel flies forward before catching fire and causing a huge fiery explosion. Fuel flies D6+4 inches and explodes. Place Ordnance template on the place and every model under it takes a Strength 6 hit with AP 4.
”...And I shall commit my duty with pride and honor. I shall know no fear when I am battling against the overwhelming odds of the farthermost galaxies for He is with me. Nor shall I tremble when the corrupted heretics clash against me wave after wave, for the emperor itself will be my guide and shield and my unfaltering faith in him will be my blade.”
”So I ask you...”
Said the Master Inquisitor Michaligus' voice through the loudspeakers:
”...will you… follow me… in to legend”
The ground itself trembled as the 15,000 Imperial Guardsmen saluted and shouted from the top of their lungs:
”For the Emperor!”
Private Johnson woke up sweating on his bedroll. It had been 34 days since the 314th Cadian Army patrol had been dispatched to the Periphery sector of the galaxy. The army was divided to three sectors, respectively given orders to gain a foothold in the three frontier worlds; Kulth, Kalf and Sinophia. The latter two were rather peaceful, stable farming planets, only Kulth was a war torn world. Large parts of the landscape were covered by marshes and thick jungle, were primitive orc tribes wandered. Plains and industrial cities had long been a battlefield to many conflicts between Imperial Guard, Orcs and the Chaos Space Marines. Even now Imperial Guardsmen fought against the rampaging Orcs on the other side of the planet.
“Wokie wokie Johnson, your shift is starting” said sleepy private Keyston while crawling through tents flap door.
“Sarge wants to have a talk with you buddy, better not keep him waiting.”
“Yeah, I’m up already” replied Johnson. Before climbing up to the watchtower, Johnson pulled out small photograph of a smiling parents and their son. “Nightshift starting love, sleep well” he said and kissed the picture.
“Sir, Private Johnson, reporting for nightshift, sir!” announced Johnson while saluting the sergeant on the tower deck.
“Aight, we can skip ‘em formalities, commissar can’t hear us anyway” sergeant Brack said while lighting a cigar. Sergeant Brack was tall, muscular one-eyed man with large mustache. He was no ordinary office-sergeant. Having fought on half a dozen Deathworlds, including the infamous Catachan, Brack had grown to dislike ranks and formalities.
“I tell ya lads, nothing’s worse than a fancypants commissar who’s aware of his post. All they can do is give screwed up orders and keep the real men from doing their job.” Brack had stated to the squad at the first moment when the accompanying commissar VanDolen was out of sight.
Now the scarred Deathworld veteran was resting his hands against his sniper rifle, gazing at the lushy jungle below. The whole camp was silent except a few occasional snoring sounds and the auspex’s regular bleep, indicating that there were no unknown contacts nearby. Only a visual sighting could tell that there was a camp of 52 Imperial Guardsmen in the middle of the jungle.
“That’s yer family son?” Brack asked suddenly with his glance still in the tree line.
“Yes si- ..ahem, that’s my wife and son back on Terra” Johnson said “but..”
“How did I know?” Brack ended the sentence, “I’m a sniper son.”
“I was right below the tower and it is middle of the night, plus there’s no moon on the sky, or any lighting for that matter”
“Fine, I peeked yer pockets once” Brack snarled.
Hours passed by till the first rays of dawn started to climb over the treetop.
“Aight, lets tell ‘em boys the coffee and brownies are ready.” Brack said and started to climb down from the tower.
“Where are we heading today?” Johnson asked
“To a basecamp in Charlie sector, about 160 miles northeast, to restock and refuel our toys” Brack answered while sliding his hand on the bonnet of one of the jeeps and murmuring something towards “rusty piece of junk.”
The camp was brought down and packed with a military efficiency and in less than an hour soldiers were packed in the jeeps with all the equipment.
Sergeant Brack stood in front of the cars, briefing his squad of the coming mission “Aight lads and lasses, as you know we’re gonna patrol the road from here to camp Charlie and-“
“Excuse my interference, sergeant Brack, but this is a reconnaissance mission, and thus not to be taken lightly” commissar VanDolen said with wintry, hushed out tone.
Sergeant Brack closed his eyes and sighed silently before continuing, as if no interruption had occurred at all;
“And as we know the roads ‘are’ clear so the sooner we get this thing done, the sooner we hit camp Charlie. So let’s stay sharp and we all might have a warm shower tonight.”
Cheering and clapping filled the air and Brack couldn’t resist smiling. Men defending the outer rim worlds had always been tough as nails and known never to complain of the situation at hand, but they still welcomed every night in bunk beds with joy.
“Akay! Drivers remember, two hundred meters spread, radio silence and auspex’s up and running at all times. Let’s move out!”
Lushy jungle was soon left behind as the caravan of jeeps rolled on old supply road. Trees and large bushes changed into few feet tall grass that swayed in the wind in large waves. Sergeant Brack sat in the first jeep, cigar in his mouth and gaze in the horizon. Radio played old school music and the driver Keyston had a faint smile on his face, while nodding his head in time with music.
“Sarge, why do we always listen to this pop-shit radio?” asked the gunner Jackson.
“Son, this ‘shit’, as you call it, is part of you. This is what your parents listened to when you we’re nothing but a glint in the daddy’s eye. ”
One of the many suns in peripheral section stretched its rays towards Kulth. Gentle breeze waggled the trees and ruffled soldier’s hair. Jeep caravan continued onward raising small dust clouds on a dry road that weaved through the plains. Everyone was lighthearted with a simple mission and beautiful weather. Nothing could possibly go haywire in a secured sector.
They were wrong.
Suddenly radio stopped the music and changed channel. Amidst the gunfire and explosions voice said: “This is northern front outpost of Charlie sect-
Whole crew watched the radio in silence.
“What the hell is going on there?” shrieked Jackson
Whole crew shushed at him but radio transmitted only static.
“Keyston, rally the caravan to me and tell them the situation.” Brack ordered
“Jackson, ready the gun and Johnson, try to get in touch with the company.”
Both nodded in silence and Brack grabbed his binoculars and stood up on the seat. They were nearly ten clicks away from the outpost, they might just be able make it in time. Smoke rose up from in the horizon, as the jeep caravan neared the outpost. How come there is no sign of enemies or our own guys in the auspex? Brack pondered, damning the dust and smoke that clouded the sight from binoculars. Engines roaring they entered the camp that was little more than circled barbed wire fence, few entrenched gun posts and a dozen tents.
“We’re too late” Johnson said while jeep finally stopped in the middle of the outpost. Few of the tents had collapsed, one of them was in fire and there were death and explosion craters everywhere.
“Holy Terra..” Jackson murmured while taking off his beret.
“Slaughtered to the last man” Keyston said from his seat, still gazing the auspex, as if in hope that it would show someone still alive there.
“Orcs” said Brack while picking up crude pistol: “what did this was a raiding party fully on wheels, bikes, to be precise” he continued while staring down on the tracks left in the mud. After relaying the information to the rest of the caravan, and sending them straight to camp Charlie, Brack and his men began bitter work collecting the bodies. With everyone’s mind resonated the same thing; they could’ve made the difference if they just had been there in time.
Admiral Gordon shook his head in the comm. and headquarters room of the battle barge. He stared down the silently humming 3D-map that resembled the Peripheral sector.
“I still believe that two armored companies could retake-“
Inquisitor Orbellus raised his hand to silence the Admiral. Inquisitor was a tall man with a resonating, deep voice. Holy Terran relics clattered against his chest armor as he turned around.
“The situation on Kulth is far direr than the intel gathered made us believe. The Orcs have been able to cripple our communications and are continuously mustering more troops to the ground.” Orbellus said, gazing the admiral into the eyes.
“It is my sacred duty to protect the Imperium from alien scum like these invaders. Let me-“ Admiral started while stepping forward and pointing towards the map display.
“Need I remind you, Admiral Artellus Gordon, that this ‘alien scum’ casually walked into Imperium’s first line of defense undetected, destroyed two worlds and its denizens and is now mounting assault on its capital, that hold some of the Imperium’s most guarded weapon technology secrets. Scum? They are too dangerous to be scum, Admiral.”
Admiral Gordon’s stared at the Inquisitor for long time before asking, trying to hold back his anxiousness:
“Then what is your plan, Inquisitor?”
Orbellus laid his hand on the codex and said:
Back in the outpost Charlie the jeep’s radio begun to beep. “Incoming transmission. Incoming transmission.” Johnson being closest picked up.
“D-company, second platoon, Private Johnson speaking”
“This is radio control aboard battle barge ‘Templar of destruction’. You and any personnel of the second platoon must immediately get base camp Charlie for emergency evacuation.”
“Emergency evacuation?” Johnson asked all surprised, whole squad had now gathered around to listen “I mean I know we got some stragglers around here but are we leaving to planet for some mediocre band of raiders?”
“The situation is far worse than that, private. Orc forces have managed to slip through our long range scanners and have already deployed massive amounts of troops on the planet. They have also managed to breach the capital city defenses.”
Everyone jumped into the jeep and as Keyston turned the car around and revved through the gate.
“The whole D-company have already departed from Charlie but there is still a few Valkyries left” radio operator advised.
“But if the orcs are coming in here en masse why are we leaving?”
“Commanders have decided that the risk of invaluable information getting into orc hands is far too great. Destroying the entire colony and the secrets within seems to be the only option.”
“You aren’t saying…?” Johnson started, clearly shocked.
”The countdown for galactic bombardment has started Private Johnson. After 6 minutes the broadside will be shot, and the temperature will be over 100 000 million degrees, don’t be there, when it blows.”
“Gimme the damn phone son” Sergeant Brack ordered ”Listen now you paper worker office scrub, and listen carefully, the chances we’ll make it to the evac ship is one in the fucking million, if you don’t send a shuttle down to our location ASAP, we might just as well start digging for our own graves here!”
“That’s a negative sarge, the area is too hostile for us to risk another bird.” said Admiral Gordon.
“Useless wanker!” shouted the sarge.
“Sir, are you sure there isn’t anything we could do to help our men?” pondered the radio operator from Admiral.
“Tell ‘em not to fly on the firing line” Gordon said and turned around to leave.
Brack slammed the phone back to radio in anger. If something bothered this old war veteran it was mission going to hell and not getting the promised bath. He just had lost both. Throwing his cigar away he turned around on his seat, but before he could begin his rant about uselessness of Imperial government he was stopped by shriek.
“Sir!” Keyston shouted while pointing at the auspex. Small screen’s lower part was filled with red dots.
Before anyone could recover from the shock, a thunderous boom echoed from somewhere behind. Just fifty meters away from the road exploded enemy artillery shot. Six or more orc bikers, several dodgy looking vehicles and a tank were gaining on them.
“Jackson what are you waiting for, nail ‘em!” Brack shouted. Jackson turned the stormbolter turret around and begun spraying bullets. Camp Charlie was on sight, but the orcs were catching up quickly. Their bikers guns were now blazing and some shots already ricocheted from the nearby ground.
“I think I see it, yes it’s a whole armada” Brack said while gazing up in the air.
“Not even you can see into the warp, sarge, even with your sniper eyes” Keyston said.
“No, it’s right there on the edge of the system. Take a look.” As Brack ended his sentence, warp gate opened for a split second with a bright flash. In the nearby orbit there were now dozens of Imperial starships, battle barges and frigates.
“Ohh snap..” Keyston said while kicking the gas. The orcs were already in range and their bullets whistled around in the air. Just as they thought all hope was lost, a hundred meters in front of them something crashed into the ground, followed by another and one after that.
“Drop pods!” shrieked Keyston. Radio kicked into life and deep, metallic voices said:
"The Emperor's finest, reporting"
"Brothers, strike for the chapter and the Inquisition!”
“Fear not soldiers of the Imperium, you are not alone this day.”
“By the Emperor! Space Marines are here!” Johnson yelled.
“This is Chaplain Remulus speaking, we handle it from here. Make for the shuttle.”
As the jeep shoot through dust cloud, Brack’s squad saw Space marines forming disciplined firing ranks, Terminators causing havoc with their stormbolters and a Dreadnought hailing fury from its assault cannon. Keyston pulled the jeep right next to ramp door behind the last Valkyrie that wasn’t on fire. Everyone rushed in as explosions shook the land.
“Come on! Come on!” Brack yelled in the cockpit, staring at Keyston who quickly tried to operate the dashboard.
“I’m on it! Here we go!” Shuttle soared to the air while massive explosions landed where it had been just a moment ago.
“We’re saved…” Johnson said while trying to catch his breath.
“I thought we wouldn’t make it” Jackson replied in awe.
Remulus gazed up to see that Imperial Guardsmen had safely left the planet.
“This is Chaplain Remulus to orbit, prepare the teleport beam. Get us out of here.”
Every Space Marine glowed for a moment before orbital relay translocated them back to battle barge. Only half a minute later, the bombardment fleet ‘Righteous Fury’ fired its broadside barrage of cyclonic torpedoes.