[Epic] battle report

From: Andy Skinner <askinner_at_...>
Date: Fri, 01 Aug 1997 08:21:15 -0500

This was on one of the web pages I mentioned in a previous message.
http://www.image.dk/~krflarup/cult/hu-Greatest_battle.html

Thought you might like it.

andy
askinner_at_...



 The Greatest Battle Ever, Mark II
 by Peter Andrew Siekierski (pas4189_at_...)

      Things were normal on Earth that day. The Emperor sat in his
Golden
 Throne, pleased with the news of the liberation of Ichar IV by legions
of
 Mk VII Space Marines and new improved Imperial Guardsmen. But high
above
 the Earth, a sinister storm was gathering...

      They had travelled far to Earth. From a million worlds they came,
united
 under a common purpose: to take back what was once rightfully theirs.
Leman
 Russ petted his twin wolves as he spoke:

 "My brothers, the time has come. With the new improved Tyranid hordes
 draining his once mighty resources, the Emperor is now at his weakest."

 Lord MacCragge, seated on his long discontinued throne, spoke next:

 "My forces stand ready, my brother. Legions of Mark VI Space Marines
 await my bidding. There will be much blood shed today."

 The Lieutenant Commanders whispered amongst themselves. They had not
been
 heard from since the days before the boxed set, but it was known that
some
 had defected to the Emperor's cause and been recast in pewter and
demoted
 to heroes.

 "What of the Titan Legions, m'lord?" asked a Space Marine Lieutenant.

 "The Council of Disctontinued Princeps assures me that our Warlords out
 number them six to one," said the Great Wolflord. "Made of plastic as
 they are, they are much cheaper and easier to construct than the new
 pewter titans of the loyalists."

 The leader of the assembled Pirates spoke next.

 "What of the Imperators, m'lord? Surely we can not match their
firepower."

 "Ah, but we can, my friend. Do not forget that we have the might of
many
 Spacefleets with us. They have not forgotten the Emperor's betrayal,"
said
 Lord MacCragge.

      The attack began at dawn. Without warning, thunderous blasts of
fire
 rained from the sky as the long forgotten Spacefleets of the Eldar and
 the Imperium rained destruction of the Imperial Palace and its
Imperator
 guardians.

      Loyal Warlord titans rose to their feet, only to be met with six
 times their number in rebel titans.Legions of Imperial Guardsmen armed
 with boltguns marched toward the unbreachable walls of the Imperial
palace
 as M14 Bullock Jet-Cycles raced overhead. Ork Tinboyz and Imperial
Robots
 blasted the palace's defenders with autocannons and lascannons, while
 detachments of Sentinels stode ahead, clearing out stragglers with
their
 deadly multi-lasers.

      Meanwhile, from the rear of the palace, a huge flotilla of wooden
and
 ironclad sailing ships disgorged their deadly cargoes. From the Black
Ark
 of Naggaroth came crazed dark elves, angered at the Emperor's decision
to
 cancel their ships' production. Bretonian Corsairs and Norse Longships
poured
 forth sailors and bondsmen eager for a bloody revenge. Ship after ship
 arrived, every crewman intent on destroying those who would cancel Man
o' War.

      Russ consorted with the other leaders. Soon, it was rumored, the
mighty
 armies of the fantasy battle world would join their cause after the
last elf
 book was written. "We can not wait for them, my brothers," sighed Russ.
He
 too was no longer available in pewter, and knew the pain that they
would face.
 With the roar of its mighty engines and the creaking of its tracks, the
Capitol
 Imperialis rolled forward, lobbing huge shells at the defenders.
Unsupported
 by Land Raiders (they were no longer manufactured here), the badly
 outnumbered and overpriced defenders fell back. Swarms of Imperial
Guard
 Landspeeders flew into the courtyard as the last of the defending
titans fell.
 The inner sanctum's ground broke as scores of Hellbore Moles, ancient
 digging machines no longer available to the loyalists, unloaded their
cargoes.

      The Adeptus Custodes, once the sworn guardians of the Emperor,
peacefully
 opened the gates for their attackers. "Did you know we were once cast
in lead, too?"
 they chanted in Latin. Swarms of Imperial Beastmen Platoons tore at the
loyalists
 in savage close combat. The Blood Bowl teams of a thousand forgotten
lands
 charged in, tackling and beating their way into the throne room, where
 they were joined by scavs and bounty hunters from countless
discontinued
 blister packs.

      The Emperor looked down in shame. So finely crafted they were, the
 lot of them. Blood Bowlers, Chaos Squats, even his own Adeptus
Mechanicus
 were among the rabble. Cheaply and widely available Ork Battlewagons
from
 days past carried allied mobs of Imperial Guard Assault Troops, Hive
 Gangs, and alien Zoats. He looked with disgust upon the foul Blood
 Slaughterers, Chaos Robots of Khorne, and felt relieved that he would
never
 have to deal with them again. Perhaps they might be worth saving he
thought.
 His mind wandered back to the days when not all Rough Riders were from
Attila,
 and Sentinel War Walkers were still available. He remembered the loyal
 beastmen platoons, and the human bombs who died so thoughtlessly in his
 name, and a tear streaked down his withered face.

      "NO!" he cried, sending psychic shockwaves through the Mark VI
Librarians
 assembled before him. "Begone from my presence, men of lead. Your time
is
 past."

      With a broad wave of his wizened hand, the defenders were changed.
 Ancient plastic Titans, who had once fought for him crumbled, replaced
by
 smaller but more expensive pewter Knight Households. Imperial uniforms
 and photochrome visors gave way, becoming instead the sharp dress of
Mordia
 or the jungle greens of Catachan. Gone were the robots and support
weapons
 of days past, and in their place stood expensive new tanks and heavy
 weapons teams. Chaos squats were no more, now there would be ridiculous
hats
 and big teeth. The hive gangers and scavvies found themselves in a new
game,
 no longer called Confrontation. But surely, it was better this way...

      ...and high above the Earth, Lord Maccragge found himself a new
pair
 of gloves.

 The End.
Received on Fri Aug 01 1997 - 13:21:15 UTC

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