Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Death by Plastic

Smoke Enclave (Phas J’Kaara)

Ethereal Aun’O T’Olku Or’Res Shi

Shas’O Kel’Shan Ph’Shi

Ethereal leader Aun Or’Res has been assigned to monitor and assist ShasO’Ph in his acquisition of Imperial Border World Vash’Mor. This planet has intriguing prospects as a natural power generator. Vash’Mor never sees the dark of night. The 3 stars it orbits, brightly illuminate the planets’ dayside. The numerous planetoids in orbit around it reflect so much light they give the darkside a misnomer. The albedo is slightly brighter than a standard dawn.


Tau recent expansion and acquisition has placed heavy demands on power. The solar energy irradiating this planet is intense and unending. The numerous planetoids and small moons orbiting the planet would make ideal energy farms and trading stations. The orders from T’au are explicit and simple. Take, hold and exploit.

Pre-launch orbital surveys and system recon patrols have shown the planet to be a recent Gue’La acquisition but has numerous Imperial Outposts and the beginnings of a stable economy and military presence. Vash’Mor was taken from a pre industrial Alien race over 500 years ago. It seems for the most part that the Imperium has either neglected or is unaware of this veritable gold mine.

Diplomatic approaches have unfortunately been exhausted. Air Cast envoys, accompanied by Aun’O T’Olku Or’Res Shi were repeatedly scorned and eventually had to call off talks when lasfire erupted from xenophobic protestors encircling the summit.

In 3 cycles time, a preliminary observation post will be established and later converted to a base of operations. One cycle later Shas’O’Ph, accompanied by the Revered Aun’ Or’Res will make landfall and begin the purge of Vash’Mor.

Vash'Mor.jpg

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The ticking of blast plates and superheated engines ping and echo around the strange landscape that meets Shas’O’Ph’s sensors. Standing aside from the Orca dropship Shas’O’ph starts his battlesuit’s preliminary systems check while he surveys the land. Broadsides, Crisis Teams and firewarriors disembark behind him. Engineering drone teams are already establishing a base camp under earth caste supervision.

‘Hmm… they understated the albedo on this planet.’ He mutters.

All around him wind swept plains of sand and exposed bedrock assault his sensor inputs. Three light filters and 2 contrast settings later he manages to make the landscape make visual sense. The triple suns bleach the surface to a glaring white. Details are all but lost and all infra red input is rendered to an amber uniform haze. Wind eroded rock spires jut out of the earth at oblique angles. Patches of glassy rock and coarse gravel litter the flat landscape.

Consulting the survey maps up-linked from the Orca he grunts with displeasure. A slight movement to the left makes it presence known.

Aun’Or Res looks up at him through a shaded headset. ‘I believe we may have our work cut out for us, old friend.’

‘Yes, the ordinance surveys give little to add to this dusty view. Very little in the way of natural cover and next to nothing for resources.’ mutters Shas’O’Ph.


‘We may have to rethink our standard operating battle plans. The broadsides should have easy going but our troops will make easy targets. Digging in will prove… difficult.’ Aun’Or’Res grimly states. ‘I think we may have to lean heavily on our Stealth Suits. If we can’t find cover we shall make it. And of course you are aware of the success we have met with stealth suits in Tyranid conflicts.’


Shas’O’Ph absentmindedly touched his suits left arm. The Lictor he encountered 3 seasons ago managed to remove his old one… it payed dearly for that. The battle was a clear cut victory, mainly due to rapid deployment of stealth suits, but the monstrosity that lay hidden amongst his forward troops showed dismaying amounts of patience and cunning. A squad of his best Fire Warriors and his left arm were the prices to pay for his lack of adequate planning. A lesson learned. Bio Meds restored his arm but experience is a harsh teacher.

‘Revered One, if I may make a suggestion, make a requisition for 2 more units of stealth suits…The Tyranids are one thing… these Gue’Las have proven to be more skilled at firearms. I believe we shall need them dearly’ Shas’O’Ph suggested.

Aun’Or’Res looked to the horizon, ‘I most assuredly will, but I am afraid we may have to sacrifice some of our hardened troops to attain them. The conflicts with the Orcs have drained numerous resources and Stealth Teams are a pricey commodity. But I will make a deal. We will have to pay in versatility mind.’

‘The proper tool for the job. And this job looks like it will be the one that will make my mark for the greater good all the greater.’

‘Careful my friend… maybe I am getting soft, as I don’t mind your self aggrandizing, but the Council of Sages would frown upon such talk. The scars from your recent hardwire surgery are still fading… don’t abuse the faith placed in you as a new Commander.’

A glint of stubborn rebellion flashed across Shas’O’Ph’s eyes, making him grateful for the suits bulky concealment. Quickly he bowed his head and deferred to his masters chastisement.

‘… I might as well tell you now. Against my better judgement the Council has decided to grant you your own cadre. The needs of the many have determined we speed up your apprenticeship. We need this planets energy. You know my personal thoughts on your performance. Our friendship aside, you have yet to master your … shall I say passionate attitudes, towards Xenos. Just because you have a Cadre of your own, doesn’t mean we condone your… crusader mentality. Meditate and maintain a clear focus. The Greater Good has no room for personal bias.’ lectured Aun’Or’Res.

Shas’O’Ph rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. He respected his master immensely but what does an Aun know about families and homes ravaged year after year by orcs, tyranids and Gue’Las. Year after year burying those he loved, year after year sifting through the ashes of what was a home, trying to find fewer and fewer memories of what was, if he hates Xenos it for a very good reason. But if he is going to succeed and avenge his lost ones, he must play by the rules.


‘Thank you for you concern and attention, Master. I will strive to succeed. The Council will not regret their faith in me. My own Cadre, hmm? I am pleased and honoured... This planet will feel the full force of the greater good. I shall call my Cadre Phas J’Kaara. Smoke and Mirrors. Under these blazing suns we shall be like the mirage on the horizon. Only this mirage will prove… lethal.

Aun’Or’Res nods his head in approval. ‘Very well, old friend… lets survey the preparations made at the Observation post. I gather forwards scouts have encountered a few Gue’la already.’




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6 Cycles later
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The Observation Post is much altered since first arrival. Sun faded and worn, it looks like its been in place for decades. It is hard to tell where the weather has worn the plasteel or where las and bolter fire has.


Shas’O’Ph looks around at his bedraggled Fire Warriors… singed uniforms and minor burns are the result of the last conflict. Stealth Warriors lay in an exhausted stupor in their bunks. The assaults have been day and… well… day. This cursed planet is never dark! The few hours of dim light that substitutes night is still enough to see the horizon. Some troops are complaining and it seems deep sleep is hard to come by unless physically exhausted. The moral is weakening. Were it not for Aun’Or’Res the troops would have orca’d out long ago, Shas’O’Ph included.

On the plus side, the hard work hasn’t been for nothing. Massive tracts of land have been scorched. But large pockets Imperial Resistance remain. The southern hemisphere is one large desert. The Gue’La fortified there shouldn’t last too long. But the Head Quarters has yet to have been found.

Rudimentary power plants have been established. The first pulse Core shipment took off last week. The Air caste crew that had come for it, brought fresh supplies and reinforcements. Giving these men a much need break. Those who were unfit for battle were taken with the cores back to T’au.

A subsonic rumbling indicated the scheduled transport was air breaking for landing.

Shas’O’Ph clanked out of the armoured barracks and made his way to the drop zone. Aun’Or’Res was overseeing the organization, directing the bulky labour drones to the warehouses and the newly disembarked troops to the Mess and Head.

‘It seems we finally got the requested Stealth Suits.’ said Shas’O’Ph, nodding at the large group of black armoured men flickering in and out of sight as they system tested their suits.

‘Yes, I must admit, it was more difficult than I imagined to requisition them. Last weeks transport must have tipped the scales. The council is pleased with the Pulse Cores but it was the Unfits that convinced them.’ muttered Aun’Or’Res. ‘Progress report’.

Shas’O’Ph cleared his throat. ‘Sectors Omicron and Delta have been cleared Master. Light casualties. The difficulties were in Zeta and Phi. Waylay post 3ii was overrun and abandoned. We detonated the power plant and the blast irradiated 80 or so hectares. It’s a minor setback. There is nothing left in that sector worth fighting for. The Gue’La pulled out. We lost 35 Fire Warriors 2 Crisis Suits and a Hammerhead. Heavy losses in hardware I’m afraid.

‘That is bad news. The council cut me a deal. Stealth suits for a decreased allotment of heavy hardware and drones. We will probably be able to replace the hammerhead but our use of them should be carefully considered. Mind you, for this situation it’s a bargain. The stealths are proving remarkable. What’s next on the agenda?’ Aun’Or’Res smiled in anticipation.

‘Drone scouts have identified three more Gue’La cities in the southern reaches. These three hold promise. Each is a medium to large city, water supplies, and Industrial activity showed up on scans. It seems the planetary administration is divided equally among all three cities. The Military Headquarters must be located in one of them. It is very strange that the telltale signals of a command unit have not been clearly located. Shelling trajectories have been triangulated from defensive positions surrounding all three cities. We are unable to orbitally bombard these hard points as our fleet is playing nursemaid to the Por cargo vessels. I suggest surgical strikes, followed by immediate evac. May I also suggest a feignt to the the northern most city. Draw their attention and then hit them from behind.'


'Excellent. We will strike immediately. Assign the stealth suits to drop pods and load up the devilfish. Ensure all team leaders are equipped with Emp’s. We leave in 3 hours. I want this to be in the poorest light possible.' Aun'Or'Res strode away leaving Shas’O’Ph to sound the call to assembly.

Wednesday, August 18, 2004

PHEEER ME! I AM ART TECHNICIAN!

As the incredibly descriptive title above suggests, i have been successful in my implementation of phase IIIa of my 'WORLD ACQUISITION & NEW KINGDOM' plan.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with W.A.N.K its a complex indepth involved grand strategic and slightly cunning plan to rule the world. Its a lifelong goal i must say and my Children Under the New Totalitarian Scheme, or my legions... have yet to have had their ranks bolstered sufficiently.

Phase IIIa specifically involves me attaining a placement of influence in a educational institution. Much has been done to implement this plan and as of yesterday Phase IIIa was completed successfully. I have now been given employment as an Artistic Technician at the University of Exeter. *evil glee* The pickings are RIPE and the Children Under the New Totalitarian Scheme will soon grow and expand aiding me in my world domination.

Ya i know... its a slow scheme... but hey... what else have i got to do eh?

Monday, August 09, 2004

DAMNIT GAMMA RAYS! NOT CRANBERRIES!

I AM FLAB MAN!

BEWARE EVIL DOERS! For i FLAB MAN am here to hound your evil ways and right the wrongs you have/may/are considering halfheartedly to do/done/may do!

My love handles of DOOM are targeting you as we speak. And my Bagel of Destruction will rend you into itsy bits with its Radioactive cranberry BLAST!

just to let you know.

wouldnt want to catch ya with your pants down or anything.

i may be flabby but i am sporting.


Saturday, August 07, 2004

Big Brother bother

Ok tonights the last night for the UK big bro. Its a thank fuckin god thing and a ... no its just a thank fuckin god thing. why do producers think we care about a complete collection of tossers so much that we need to watch them for 70 goddamn days. i'll admit.. if it were cool ppl.. celebs etc... then id be sad to see it go.. but hey, its not its, tossers. Yes i am a voyeur but i think of myself as a selective voyeur... ok mebbe just a perv... either way.. pretty ppl are better.

I dont care who wins.. i just care about the next timeslot they will fill when this godawful monument to waste in full technicolor is evicted from my life.

Speaking of evictions.. there is an evil evil person inside of me... and i think it resides in my girlfriend (who shall be known as either Foofynonopoopoohead or sarcastobitchqueen) as well...
you see, we have a pair of neighbors downstairs... lovely ppl.. well... ok hes cool... shes a narky cow... but you see.. now heres the part where the evil sprite rears its ugly mug... they have a nicer/bigger apartment than we do. AND we have loads of evidence that, if applied maliciously would make bigbro real. MWAHAHAH! to top it off the land lady has promised us their flat if they scarper.

i would love to quote douglas adams and say 'my doctor told me i have a underdeveloped 'be good to common man' gland and a moral fibre deficiency.' but unfortunately i dont. damnit. i blame my parents. its easier that way. yes im lazy.

subclause 4b paragraph VII of the girlfriend boyfriend cooperative manifesto states that it is at this juncture that i say something lovely and wonderful about my girlfriend... ok here it goes,

she makes good pizza.

ok thats done... stupid manifesto... when the revolution comes the manifestoians will be the first against the friggin wall.

i will end now with a quote from my favorite of authors,

'I am a sick man ... I am a wicked man'
-dostoevsky

Friday, August 06, 2004

I think i will just wait for the triffids

Any plants possessing an irritable demeanor should not be overlooked. Especially when they look at me with mulch in mind.

A common occurance here in the mouldy motherland is the daily war between the mosses and moulds and the really odd green things that seem hell bent on punishing bricks in everyones garden. Seeing as how the entire archipelago is built with red baked clay i can understand. Anytime i come across a wad of green stuff with brick busting on its agenda i give them a small 'hurrah'.


The small things in life really do help you appreciate how vile it is.

I just experienced awe and self disgust at the same time. i think this may be a first for me... o... well the incident with 'mad brains' doesnt count.

I was walking by a coworkers pit (cunningly disguised as a semi cubicle) and happened to notice they were in possession of a VERY fancy and shiny envelope holder. It has 5 tiers, space for the myriads of types of A4 A5 and standard letters we stuff with crap on a daily basis. Now this shiny stationary marvel turned me green with envy while at the same time committing an equivalent to Crohns disease in my chest cavity. Self loathing bile tastes particularly vile... moreso than the bile resulting from double tequila double vodka redbulls in a dodgy pub called The Plowmans Runaway Redheaded Stepson.

The realization i would wish ill will on someone so i may appropriate their envelope organizer was a wake up call i didnt need before my second cup of vending machine espresso. Another sad thing is, i am not the only one. These highly prized items of office paraphernalia arent easily come by and people actually bequeath them to friendly coworkers upon their passing onto a better life.

I think i need a new job.