AN: I live again…checks calender…shit…um…Well, real life is a bitch. That is all I will say, anymore and I sound like a whiny bitch. 'gryfita', that is true…in 40k cannon. Kursk in this time line involved roughly four million tanks, ten billion men, and tens of thousands of Mobile Suits at the start…because Ancient Humanity's tech, including cloning and quantum lathes, means that battles were massive slog fests. Everyone asking about the Primarchs and what they are now, well, you'll see. 'Savior16,' I'll pass on that, if you want to make a side story based off that premise feel free. 'hypersonic34', probably not, as if I toss in anything else for this story it becomes too much of a hassle to balance and becomes a curb stomp. Also, YES, I am aware of the similarity between the fight later and Leviathan 3, but I worked on that long before that was released. Anyways, on with the fic.

Speech

Thoughts

Radio/machine speech/scene change

The Fourth War for Armageddon

Armageddon System:

The Imperium had already heavily fortified their core worlds as a matter of principle. Before warning that the Orks would be coming again even arrived, the system was already well defended. Twenty battle moon sized stations were in orbit around Armageddon, with sixty more in defensive positions around the system. Not to mention two dozen heavily fortified shipyards that spanned four hundred thousand kilometers in system, nor the hundreds of thousands ground based batteries and heavily defended cities in which the citizens were housed, nor the lesser platforms that served to screen the larger defensive stations.

But with the three hour advance warning from the forces on Thessia, this net was expanded even more. By the time the Orks first wave, which contained something along the lines of one thousand orkoid battleships and millions of lesser ships, arrived the system was a death trap. The defenses had quadruped in number, all civilians had been evacuated long in advance, all that remained in system were one hundred million crack marines and countless trooper war droids ready to receive the hammer blow.

When it finally came, the Orks first wave elements were caught in a hellacious crossfire. Within seconds, the force had been cut down to a single battleship class ship due to the pounding from all the ordinance in system. The warship, Mork's Toof, didn't last much longer, a test fire of a hyper velocity mega particle cannon on the planet disintegrated the fifty kilometer long warship in a single shot.

The thing about greenskins though, something that the Imperium was well aware of, was that where there was one, there were thousands of them. Something reinforced to any casual observers when a much larger wave appeared, this time a bit out of the firing arcs of a few of the defenses, allowing them to destroy a battle moon, which in turn slackened the enemy fire by a large enough margin for the next wave to last another dozen seconds.

This pattern would continue for a dozen more waves. With more and more attackers surviving just long enough to destroy a target. Thus allowing even more orks to survive the NEXT wave. This was despite the shipyards building thousands of warships and throwing them into battle as well, the Orks were too stubborn and whipped up by their "Big Boss" orders. And they were drowning the Imperial's automated defenses in sheer numbers of skeletally crewed warships.

The Greenskins numbers were inexhaustible, even the campaigns in the north hadn't hinted at this vast horde. This tide of green muscle and flesh powered warships that should not work, even by orkoid logic, due to their massive size and low crew counts. But a boarding group of Legionaries found out why this was the case. They were mostly automated by crude constructs that aped the much more advanced and complicated designs the Imperial Navy had fielded at the battle of Thessia that the Orks had examined.

Still, this automation allowed them to field even more ships than owning a full third of the galaxy would have normally. Eventually, after many brutal hours of warfare, the shield of the Imperial Navy and the defense platforms cracked and crumbled under the onslaught, and with them, the Orks began to bring in massive roks and troop ships to deploy their soldiers en-mass.

These transports would make a crash landing on Armageddon, deploying their billions upon billions of passengers underneath the shields that their sheer bulk of armor allowed them to force their way through. Weathering even the fiercest ground fire, that ensured that even though dozens of these assault craft fell, three times their number landed.

The battle had begun in earnest, but the space defenses had bout the defenders even more valuable time…Time they had spent well on additional preparations, which would turn the surface into a death trap that would make the surface battle on Thessia look like a bad joke.

Surface of Armageddon: Command Post Hades

Commissar Marshal Yarrick looked over the holo projection of the world of Armageddon with a cold look. The damned beasts had landed in greater numbers than ever before upon the surface of the world. The shields that were intended to keep orbital bombardment from happening were not calibrated to stop the massive bulk of the roks and other troop transports as successful.

Now it was down to the Marines and Troopers on the ground to deal with them. The old man scratched his nano metal arm absentmindedly as he considered the Trooper class, he was no Tech Priest, even if such a designation had long since become an anachronism in the Imperium, but the 'robots' seemed a logical evolution of the Skitarii. And their ease of manufacture would make the vast numbers the factories were churning out quite useful in the upcoming battle.

In fact, for the first time in his career, he may OUTNUMBER the damnable greenskins. It was a novel feeling to have such numbers at his disposal, especially when they carried such a vast and powerful array of weaponry that they made the old Guard formations look like PDF. Still, he didn't live this long by under estimating the bestial cunning of the foul xenos, and as he moved the first divisions, and what a novel concept that formation was to the regimentally minded man, of troopers towards the landing zone, he opened planetary wide voxes to the defenders of Armageddon.

"Soldiers of the Imperium," his old and weary voice was clear for all, even with the nanomachine injections and medical treatments to extend his lifespan there were certain things it could not change, "Today, you are the next stage in a proud legacy. The Orks have returned to Armageddon once again. Never have they taken this world, and by the grace of the Emperor and your skill, they will not this time either! They will strike with the force of a tidal wave, but we will break them upon us like water upon the cliffs of Gibralter upon Holy Terra!"

Here he paused: "The navy bought us four precious hours. Repay their efforts by turning the foul greenskins into a ghost of the past. Remind them of why Armageddon has not, and will NEVER, fall into their hands! FOR THE IMPERIUM! FOR ARMAGEDDON! FOR HADES HIVE!"

Frontlines: Trooper Division-65787-A: Unit-500,000

The infantry power armor that made its chassis was specially modified to resemble the gas masked form of a Steel Legionary from the old days of the Imperium, the rest of its gear was also modified to resemble the old Legions of Armageddon. It was a symbolic gesture, as well as an attempt at psychological warfare, something the combat ai in the chassis understood very well. However, the reactions of the greenskins showed they did not recognize the appearances on a subconscious level, or if they did were too disciplined to show it.

That would disappoint the old Ork Hunter units and other veterans from Armageddon, but the ai cared not. It advanced alongside the millions of its fellow troopers against the swelling and writhing horde of greeskins, indeed the movement from a distance resembled a great sea, so much so that the combat ai was able to understand why sea terminology was used when describing greenskin battle formations.

At nearly three miles away, the order to fire was given. Within a nanosecond, accurate plasma fire, accelerated to near twice the speed of light by magnetic accelerators and a laser ignition system in the M-11 prototype general purpose rifle, lashed out at the orks. The xenos had no defense at this range from such fast moving projectiles, and soon great big holes were being ripped into their lines. The troopers advanced at a leisurely pace, pouring fully automatic fire with perfect precision into the greenskins.

All around, the first ten billion trooper units were slowly grinding the xenos filth into dust in an encirclement of monumental size. The rapid fire plasma proved more than a match for even the most heavily armored Orkoid vehicles, afterall, even they could only withstands so much plasma before the armor slagged, and with the rounds hitting faster than it could cool, that critical juncture came much faster than normally.

Unit-500,000 personal kill tally included one thousand orks, one hundred light vehicles, ten tanks, and a gargant, with assists on at least four times that number by the time this pocket was wiped out. Not a bad test for a first run with the new rifles and targeting systems all things considered. Especially as similar numbers were being reported across the division.

Then, the radar beeped a warning. Looking up there was another rok descending on them. There was no time to escape the impact zone, not that the troopers would. Their AI was not programmed to retreat from the orks, as it would cause the Greenskins to sweep after them and possibly hit more vulnerable areas. So they did the only sane thing…and shot at it. All five million war droids in the area.

Normally the M-11 wouldn't do much in the time before the ship crashed…maybe make a fist sized hole through the outer armor in the two minutes before it crashed, but that would be it. But, with five million of them firing simultaneously, that fist quickly became the size of a battle tank, and kept increasing in size. Within a minute, the rok was eliminated, its reactor detonating when the plasma smashed through its protective housing and causing an airburst explosion that scoured everything in forty kilometers clean, including the troopers.

The final transmission from Unit-500,000 was this: Enemy targets eliminated. Estimated enemy casualties, six billion. Organic Imperials lost, zero. Strategic victory achieved.

Da Black Korps: Heading to Hive Tempestus Secundus

Grog was a footslogga, one of the standard boys in the corps. His kit had been changed out a bit because of the plasma gits, and he wasn't exactly sure how the Gork it would help. The armor's composition had been changed to be a composite to try and deal with the plasma a bit, and his shoota had been changed out with a coilgun version. Same with the rest of his unit.

But they were still hearing of units being wiped out to the last by the defenders infantry and armor everywhere. It was eerie, down right macabre even. The precision and speed of the counter blows was unnatural. It was like the enemy was in their heads and knew every move they would make before it was made.

The General had sent them out to start the siege of one of the Plasma Gits cities. Da Black Korps was comprised of four 'divisions' of footsloggas, two of armor, and two artillery. A comprehensive and firepower heavy formation that would be able to potentially do a lot of damage. Hopefully besieging this city would reveal how their foe was able to match them in numbers and outmatch in firepower.

Grog snorted as he checked his new weapon again, thinking on the advice his section's Nob had told em. "Just fink o it as an advanced shoota. It does da same fing basically. The meks even made dem louda so they sound like proppa dakka. So quit whining like a snotlin and get ta marching ya gits."

And so they did. They had been marching the indirect route for the better part of two hours, making sure to stay out of sight as much as possible, and away from the lines of battle. The unit was undetected as far as they knew, and it was gonna be proppa sneaky ta krump dat city. A chuckle escaped his lips when he thought of the looks on da plasma gits faces when they realized what happened.

And then his innate sense of danger warned him that something was about to happen. He scanned the area, looking for what tripped his senses. After a few moments of seeing nothing but the canyon they were in, the trees, rocks, ect that made up the terrain, he shrugged and kept moving.

That was when the air was lit with plasma and lasers. They had walked straight into an ambush. Concealed automated turrets, which had been waiting for the entire column to enter the canyon, sprung to life, and unleashed their merciless barrage. Within seconds, the artillery and armor were destroyed, trapping the footsloggas in the canyon.

After that, it was a turkey shoot. The footsloggas improved armor did what it was supposed to of course. And Grog was proud to say it took three shots to kill each of his squad mates with plasma. But then the firing switched, and high velocity armor piercing high explosive rounds ripped into the Orks.

The boy howled in anger and shouted his defiance as he and those who could sprayed the area with their guns. "COME GIT IT YA GITS! STOP HOIDING LOIKE PANSIES AND FACE US IN BATTUL! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

All his shouting did was mark him as a target, and a second later his head exploded in a mist of red as the 1.5 caliber APHE round ripped through his helmet and skull. Just another kill recorded by the A.I. in charge of that trap.

All told, two hundred thousand orks fell in Hellfire Pass in that one ambush. Their bodies and kit destroyed by reclamation bots, and so the Orks would send more and more forces to try the same path, not fully understanding what happened.

Skies above Hellsreach Secundus: Flight Squadron 2948: The Flying Circus

The X-05 'Exterminator' fighter was the latest fighter in the Imperium's Arsenal. It cut a sleek and imposing figure as it sliced through the air. With a delta wing configuration and body styling like the Falken, it packed enough fire power in its frame to be classified as a frigate by the Citadel. This level of fire power: missiles, railguns, plasma cannons, plasma tipped nuclear bombs, ect; was all due to the quantum lathes built into it and the nano-compact dimensional generator.

This particular fighter was blood red colored, with a cackling skeleton in an old World War One pilot's gear on as the emblem. The pilot's skill matched this gaudy and boastful color and emblem, as illustrated when he eliminated a full Fighta Skwaudron, twenty seven fighters, within two seconds with the rail guns. He was the ace of aces of the Imperial Air Corps. The last of a long dead breed. He was Manfred von Richtofen's last clone.

The old warrior scanned the horizons for targets with the cold cunning of a predator, as he did the three planes assigned to back him up fell in. They were also X-05s, colored a lighter red; their pilots were veterans of the 'Second' War for Armageddon, and relished the chance to hunt the hated Greenskins again.

"Adler to Baron, airspace is mostly clear at the moment. The Trooper Fighters have them on lock down. Permission to hit the Rok landing zone at section delta twelve?" The pilot's voice was that of a female, a beautiful one his memory would recall if they weren't in a battlezone.

His response was quick and born from experience: "Baron to Adler, take Schanzee with you as back up. Do not engage if the ack ack is too thick. Troopers can be replaced, actual pilots cannot." His voice was cold and analytic as it transmitted over the radio.

His wing woman chuckled: "Roger that boss." And with that two of the planes turned off and blasted away at mach fifteen. Within seconds they would be dropping their payload, but Richtofen had bigger issues. Such as the one hundred 'Eavy Bombas supported by three hundred Fightas heading towards the city, sensor readings indicated they each 'Eavy Bomba carried four dozen thermo nuclear devices with roughly quintuple output as the Tsar Bomba dropped by the USSR during the First Zeonic War. Even six would be enough, through EMP aftershock, to screw with the shielding of the city, eight would be enough to break the shields…and ten enough to destroy the city.

"Wespe, on me, we have a job to do." The Baron accelerated to attack speed. His headsup display targeted ten of the bombas and twenty of the fightas for destruction. With a thought thirty missiles sped out, and at mach thirty, slammed into their targets. The kinetic force did more damage than the explosive warhead to the initial target, ripping the target to shreds. Then the air burst plasma warhead fried two more fighters nearby in a fast burning explosion.

He noted with satisfaction that his wingman had done the same, and the entire formation was gone. "Baron to AWACs Yuktaburst, enemy bomber formation eliminated. Suggest that command ground forces spring for more automated fighters. Over."

"Roger Baron, factories are currently assembling ten thousand reinforcement planes. With one hundred thousand more well under way. Hold out for another five minutes and you can take a breather." The AWAC's voice was reassuringly calm. That's one of the things the aged clone was glad for from the advances in tech over his original's time, radar units and effective command and control. It ensured the battle was always under control.

As he turned to engage another band of fightas, he mused to himself: "Control…What a wonderful thing in combat."

Orbit: Ork Flagship: General Krumpus da Grate, two hour later

Krumpus was a massive ork. Standing thirty meters tall, he had a temper that matched his size…as well as an intellect that surpassed his smaller subordinates. He rumbled in annoyance as he observed the world below. He had already committed a full tenth of the forces the Boss had assigned for this operation in a Blitz offense to claim the world for the Ork Empire.

And yet, despite throwing four times the resources that were used at Thessia against the place…the planet still defied them. 'And yet…was this not better?' He thought with a grin. 'This was a true Waaaaaagh. Something worthy of this lost world.'

So thinking he barked out an order: "Prepare the next wave of reinforcements. Have Kommando teams disable the guns and shields in advance of our next strike. Then we will saturate the area with thermo nuclear weapons to clear out everything in the landing zone. Followed up by dropping the next wave there for concentration of power, rather than our separated attempts of the last few waves."

"As you command." The bridge crew answered and began to carry out their lord and master's plan. After relaying those instructions to the Kommando Teams, there was relative silence as they readied the remaining drop force for a final push.

It was a half an hour of silence from the Kommandos before the power in the designated landing zone went out, no contact from the Orks sent down there, but they were under strict com silence, so it didn't bother Krumpus. "Launch the bombardment! I want the plains turned to GLASS!"

And so the thermo nuclear bombardment of the two hundred kilometers by two hundred kilometers area began. It lasted a full minute, and created a gigantic mushroom cloud from the multiple sequential detonations that reached up into the stratosphere.

It was into this radioactive cloud that the remaining rokks fell. Deploying their payload of NBC armored Orks by the billion, along with their deadly armored vehicles. The General himself descending in the kommand battulship's detachable command deck to directly command his forces.

It was the last mistake they would ever make.

Armageddon: Hades Hive: Yarrick

Yarrick, clad in a flight suit, walked down to where his secret weapon was finishing construction. He had purposefully allowed the power plants to be shut off when the Ork Kommandos had infiltrated, and allowed the destruction of the automated turrets, all to get the Orks on the ground for battle.

Was this the wisest move? Perhaps not. But this wasn't about wisdom. It was about sending a message, the old man would reflect as he stopped on an elevator that slowly rose. The hanger he was in was large enough to fit a one hundred forty five meter tall warmachine with ease, along with hundreds of copies. But instead there was a single machine in there.

A tank of leviathanal size. Two fifty hundred meters long, one hundred seventy five wide, and one hundred forty tall. Covered in armor and shields, and as much firepower as a corvette, except for its main cannon, which was a prototype hyper velocity cannon designed to penetrate even the thickest starship grade armor. Upon its side was engraved a name, one of a great legacy: "The Fortress of Arrogance."

The armored vehicle was too large for mortals to crew reasonably unless heavily automated. And that was fine. Yarrick wasn't planning to man this with a regiment of tank operators. But rather, a dozen Mobile Suits, each piloted by a veteran of the Chaos War.

His own mobile suit was waiting in the turret for him, and as he climbed in, he reflected that psychology, was the biggest tool against the orks. Something his thirty meter tall machine was intended to take full advantage of.

The Commissar Marshal smiled grimly as he checked all the systems. Everything from his shielding, to his eye weapon was operating at full capacity. "Fortress of Arrogance, deploy. Let us remind these vermin why Armageddon will NEVER be theirs."

And the hanger doors opened, allowing the massive tank to exit onto the battlefield. Its treads grinding as it lurched out, and rapidly gained speed. Soon after leaving the hanger, it was hitting eighty kilometers per hour. By the time it rounded the mountain that concealed the hanger, and Hades Hive, from the explosions it was cranking one hundred forty kilometers an hour.

The Commissar chuckled: "And to think, we didn't even paint it red." He jested grimly to himself as he surveyed the massive horde. It stood there, stunned and unmoving at the sight of the gigantic tank. They were rendered even more stunned as the vehicle fired its numerous weapons and started to cut its way through the horde.

Automated anti infantry guns blazed away, slaughtering any orks not crushed under the massive treads of the tank. Anti tank lashed out and destroyed any armored targets that presented themselves with brilliant beams of vermilion energy, or globules of plasma, melting the armor to slag and rendering the ork armored corp near helpless.

Fire came in from all sides, and yet it didn't breach the shielding let alone the armor. The shields were made to hold up against kruezer weight firepower, ground based weaponry was no match. And the Orks soon seemed to realize that after the main gun belched and broke through the command base of the Ork's commander…leaving him wide open.

Shots rained from the sky, punching through the shielding and armor with the sheer amount brought to bear. But the crew were safe, as their mobile suits teleported them out of the tank before it was destroyed.

All except for Yarrick. Old One Eye waited in the most protected part of the tank for the fire to die down so he could exit the tank, and deliver his message.

Ruined Ork Command Post: Krumpus da Grate

The Ork stared in stunned silence at the ruined tank a kilometer away from his position. He had heard the stories from the Big Boss, just like every other General. But to see the tank himself…The tank that housed the Big Boss' Boss' rival and enemy…It was something else entirely.

Its firepower lived up to the tales. It had all but destroyed his landing force single handed, and crippled his command center so it couldn't re-exit the atmosphere. And its endurance…it had taken tremendous dakka to bring that behemoth down. As soon as it stopped moving, smoking and ruined as it was, he ordered the bombardment to cease.

The giant breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to what few command staff were left: "That was too close. How many…" But he never got to ask that question, or get an answer. As a hatch on black juggernaut opened. And a massive Powa Klaw shaped appendeg rose from the hatch, and started to pull the form it was attached to out of it.

Krumpus nearly had a heart attack when he saw the figure. It was him. Old One Eye. As large and powerfully imposing as the Big Boss had said. Clad in full Lord Commissar regalia, and armed and equipped just as he had been during the Second War for Armageddon, the thirty meter tall Yarrick was an imposing figure that nearly broke the morale of the horde just by appearing.

In reality, it was but a Mobile Suit, designed specifically to fight the giant commander on even footing, and terrify the Orks. A stratagem that was working flawlessly. Especially when the voice of the old man was projected from the mech, loudly, human sounding, and with the lips of the mech moving: "Wretched Greenskins. Is this all you have? Ghazkull at least provided a challenge. You are weak and but a nightmare that shall plague the galaxy no longer!"

The great machine strode forward, and that prompted the Orkoid 'General' to rise from his position, and meet his foe head to head. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

The Ork dual wielded power choppas, each one twenty meters long, and five meters thick. Such weapons would have ripped apart an old Titan from before unification with ease. But this was not one of those venerable, and museum bound, machines. And the Commissar caught both blades with the superior shielding and armor in his mech's arms.

Krumpus' eyes widened at that, and Yarrick growled: "We are Humanity. The rightful masters of the galaxy." The Commissar's mech began to LIFT the giant ork by his swords, which he was too shocked to let go of. Slowly, inexorability, the Ork was lifted five meters into the air. Then, with contemptible ease, Yarrick had his mech SPIN and launch his foe.

The giant went ass over kettle flying backwards, slamming into a mountain a kilometer away. Shattering the outer levels, and covering the Ork in debris. While it slowly got up, the war machine the Commissar controlled had already appeared in front of it, and launched an uppercut that sent the Ork flying a kilometer up. "While you draw breath, there shall be NO PEACE! And while we still stand, your deaths are inevitable."

The General tried to right itself in the air, but it was in vain as the aged commissar had JUMPED up to him. And with a vicious blow from the mech's powa klaw, sent the giant beast HURTLING like a meteor down to the planet's surface. Where he impacted with the force of a nuclear detonation, destroying a full three million of his followers.

And yet, his size did not put lie to his toughness. He was still alive…shakily getting up from the massive crater. Only for Yarrick to land on his chest and drive him back to the ground, HARD. "And so we raise our fists in defiance, and will ANIHILATE YOU!"

This declaration was made with Yarrick's own lungs as he jumped out of the mech, and hurtled through the air propelled by a jetpack. He slammed his nano metal arm, which had reformed into the Powa Klaw, into the Ork's head, and like a hyper accelerated round, smashed through the skin. Through the skull. Through the brain, and out the other side.

The whole time, his 'death eye' blazing away with an upgraded laser, on par with an old Turbo Laser Destructor, to ensure the death of the behemoth of an Ork. The air was filled with the smell of over cooked mushrooms as he hit the ground, causing a shock wave that pulped the severely weakened head.

Yarrick, now on the ground, rose to his feet, and simply glared at the five million or so remaining Orks. "Come on then beasts. I don't have all day."

That simple statement, and the death of their boss, broke the Ork assault. The remaining ground forces fled in all directions, desperate to get away from the living legend. Of course they didn't get far, the unaffected and full strength organic part of the Imperium's army fell upon them with a vengeance. Not a single ork survived to escape into the mountains, and every spore was destroyed so that no population would arise upon the world.

Meanwhile in orbit the remaining ships tried to flee, only to be slammed by the concealed anti-orbital batteries that had been ordered to remain silent by Commissar Marshal Yarrick, to ensure as many Ork Casualties as possible. The sudden fire ripped apart all but the flagship of the invasion within seconds in a veritable laser light show.

The Ork flagship limped away, burning and leaking atmo, only just able to make the jump…bringing with them the information about the fact that 'Ol One Eye' was still around back to 'Big Boss'.

Next Time: Stalemate and Timeline

Review please and thank you

Codexs:

Excerpt from the Journal of Big Boss:

…I woke in this new reality bigga then I ever was before. My mind coursing with many thoughts not my own and a splittin ead'ache. It took around a month fer me to be able to think, and when I was able to, I knew what must be done.

The legacy of the Boss, and all the bosses before him and his rivals…They had to be maintained. So I set out to unite da boyz under my banner. I would fulfil the dream of all Orks, and grasp the universe in our hands…or die trying.

Casualties for the Third 'War' for Armageddon:

Imperium:

Theoretical if not for the Troopers and other Automated weapon systems: 1,000,000.

Actual: 0

Orks:

Space: Estimated at two trillion

Ground: Estimated at one trillion, and one of the Generals

Cerberus Operational Files: Operation Nicodemus. An operation to send seven 'Alicorn' class siege Battleships on a slash and burn deep into Ork space. The objective is simple, burn the logistics of the Ork Empire to the ground by destroying every industrial world they find using the new 'Gehenna' rounds.

Gehenna rounds are one shell Exterminatus packages. Each shell is a potent cocktail of highly virulent bio weapon, plasma bomb, rad bomb, and if THAT doesn't do the job then there's also a swarm of nano bots that disassemble and destroy anything left. Cerberus likes to be thorough.

The plan is still being debated in the higher echelons, as the Alicorn class' giant rail cannon, designed to hit targets as small as a dime from two systems away, has not been tested enough to know if it can even hit a target in system, let alone that far out. The concern over this is due to the massive size of the weapon in question, taking up a full third of the ship, and the stealth system having a flaw of messing with the target control system.

Not to mention the stealth system had problems maintaining its usage for long periods of time, and through FTL travel. Especially considering the massive tears in reality the Imperium's warships cause.

And so the operation is shelved while the titular Alicorn is under testing by Captain Torres, one of Cerberus' best naval officers.

After Action Report on the "Gate" Incident:

The 'Gate' that opened in the middle of the Imperial Palace disgorged a reinforced corps sized formation of ancient Roman style soldiers and fantasy being such as goblins and orcs (notice the c and not the k, they are very different in looks and abilities, closer to an old UNSC era H-Game one).

The 'invasion' was repelled by the custodian guards with no casualties. The Gate was then placed under guard by the Imperator Nemesis II Class Titan: Deus Invictus.

Afterwards, the aforementioned forces in request 2.3-98.A were gathered together for retaliatory strikes. They immediately encountered two corps worth of forces from the primitives. These forces were wiped out with ease, a few so called 'Legates' were captured and interrogated.

They were a wellspring of information, and a complete map of the world and the diplomatic situation, as far as they were aware, was soon disseminated through the ranks.

Meanwhile, a FOB was built upon the hill that the 'gate' was on. FOB Lancerius, a standard Gallus pattern fortress able to produce two million troopers in an hour with its vast factories, was then assaulted by a force of six corps, which were repelled easily.

But by then the forces were ready, and Captain Terentius, the commander of the force, initiated the counter invasion. In a lightning war that took a single week, the entire world has been brought under Imperial control.

The implications of controlling this world in an alternate dimension will be discussed later by the eggheads I imagine, but for now it is enough to know we have won. And the Gate is being examined to modify the webway gate network.

Addendum: Twelve other 'Gates' were discovered. Four with defenders from other worlds. One controlled by members of the 'JSDF', they seem to be an alternate version of pre discovery 1920s Japan. Another by the 'Enclave', survivors of a nuclear war on their world. A so called 'Galactic Empire', whose white armored soldiers are no threat at all, controlled the third. And the last is under control of a force calling itself 'GDI'. All are human. Requesting orders for how to deal with them.

From the Desk of Director of Cerberus:

Miranda, you are to analyze Shepard fully for if he is suitable for Spectre candidacy. I want you to know him better then he knows himself by the time you report in. I want a full report on who he may draw into his circle if he becomes a spectre. What ops he may upset. Everything. You have two years, as while this is a priority, it is to be finished to perfection.

Director Harper.