Hello, readers! Welcome to my first piece of fiction. Before diving in, I wanted to set some expectations. This will be a Star Wars-centric story, meaning that while both sides will be explored and given depth, the primary perspective will be from the Star Wars universe.

This isn't a pure power-scaling battle. I know some readers enjoy universe-flexing, but storytelling takes priority over nitpicked realism.

Yes, Warhammer 40K is the heavier hitter, but that doesn't mean this has to be a completely one-sided slaughter. A matchup like this doesn't have to boil down to "Hurr-durr, Space Marine smash"—Warhammer will absolutely be portrayed as the dominant force, but Star Wars will have room to fight back in meaningful ways.

With that said—on with the story!

In a galaxy… Far Far Away…
"My Lord!" A man with a hurried pace pushed through various stormtroopers loitering about on the main deck. A dark silhouette stood contrasting against the stars, warped into thin bluish lines behind the protective glass.

Darth Vader stood on the bridge of ISD Devastator, watching over the death squadron with a rare anxiety. He slowly turned his heavy body, his boots metallically echoing in the quiet lull of the command center. The Sith Lord came face to face with none other than Captain Piett. A rising star in the imperial navy, and someone Vader wishes could be pushed ahead in ranks so that his talent may finally serve his fleet.

"Captain." Vader addressed, his voice lacking the usual irritation, however remaining demanding all the same. The captain fidgeted for a second as he briefly fixed his collar before standing at attention. "We have news of the rebel base." gulping down any nervousness Piett continued "Our reconnaissance drones have discovered a small rebel base in the Anoat system. We believe it used to be their main outpost.". It was hard to miss the tremble in Pietts voice as he announced the last part. "If we arrive within the next few-"

"They are already alerted to our presence." Vader abruptly cut off Piett as he gazed menacingly at the captain. "Even if we exit the hyperspace right above their heads, we would be looking at an empty base." Vader imposingly took a step forward, making Piett take two instinctive steps back.

"We can try to circle around Anoat and catch their transport ships, Lord Vader." The captain proposed, seeking an alternative. It became entirely unbreathable on the deck, due to the sheer silence as all the staff in the command center didn't dare interrupt the conversation.

"That would be most acceptable. Piett. If we overclock our engines we can outrun them to the hyperspace point. Ensure that the rest of the fleet is aware of our intentions." The orders were clear, and with a salute, the Captain excused himself to prepare for his new objectives. Vader meanwhile attempted to concentrate yet again… The cosmic abyss of the hyperspace has always consumed his mind during his travels, but for the first time since the jedi purge did he feel this… sensation in the force. Vader has always given the force his utmost trust, and it was weird seeing such it being so… weary.

It was protesting and wailing, resisting… Something… Someone…

Vader's eyes opened within his lifeless mask as a loud screeching was heard ringing out across all decks. The Devastator violently lurched out of hyperspace, throwing much of the staff on deck onto the floor and flinging others into walls.

Vader remained standing, a stalwart and unphased figure, attached to the flooring almost magnetically, his cape waving about as chaos unfolded. His grip on his lightsaber tightened as he took the scene unfolding around him with some consideration. Some officers lay motionless, blood pooling beneath them.. Others are starting to regain their bearings. The Devastator had seen war. But this? This felt different. A deathly quiet slithered through the hull, creeping into Vader's mind.

bang* *bang* *bang*

A rhythmic thumping was heard, gunfire that reminded Vader of Tuskan sluggers. The force was screaming at Vader, his every extremity itching, his mind feeling every second slow down to a halt.

"Fire on Deck five!"

"Hull breach in sector seven!"

"Requesting immediate deployment of stormtroopers to sector nine-"

The transmitter on the main deck was buzzing with radioing, voices desperate and anxious. It all felt surreal to Vader. He wasn't new to combat, but this disgusting feeling in the pit of his stomach was a new one to him. He reached out to the force almost on instinct, trying to verify what he was feeling, and perhaps even wanting to be proven wrong in his pessimism. The Force clung to Vader—not out of favor, but could a cosmic force of the universe fear so much?

"Lord Vader? What are your orders?" Piett asked, panting after running through the corridors. Vader only ignited his lightsaber in response.

"Prepare for boarding." The Sith announced, Piett and some Stormtroopers on standby had already raised their rifles at the darkness of the hallway.

There were five GR-75 transports in the air. Luke Skywalker, commander of the rebellion looked on with a dreadful gaze.

"What are the chances they make it?" He asked, voice painted in worry.

"They'll be fine, kid. They've got some of the best pilots watching their backs." This warm and reaffirming voice belonged to none other than the infamous smuggler, Han Solo, who stood next to Luke overwatching the evacuation.

"Now now kid, why don't you go look for her highness while I sort out the next batch of shuttles." Han, seeing the stress on Luke's face, decided to ease up the job on him, patting the boy on the back, before sending him skedaddling towards the mountain base. "I'll be quick!" Luke shouted before running off to the hangar area.

Han's hair turned into a twisted mess as another X-Wing buzzed right past him and shot out of the hanger like a bullet. He was almost tempted to raise a fist in a threatening manner, but it looked like one of the soldiers with a speed marker was already blaring into the radio about safety and protocols.

The smuggler merely shrugged as he checked the oxygen levels in his rebreather, deciding he was cutting it close, and going into one of the transport shuttles still on the ground for a refill.

He definitely isn't going to miss this 's seen the worst the galaxy has to offer—Tatooine's dust, Nal Hutta's stink—but Anoat? Anoat is a whole new level of misery. Outside of being toxic due to previous imperial bombings, it is also home to the surviving natives which have turned into nightmarish creatures they call "Lurkers".

Not wanting to be lost in thought, Han quickly attached his breathing device to a port and waited for it to ding green, signifying full refillment. He thought he could maybe talk the sweet princess out of her little conniption regarding him, but she ended up dumping the administration of Anoat on him and Luke, ensuring they were buried here while she went off to play adventures on Sullust. Dick move, but also something he would have done as well, if only he was the goddamn prince of Alderaan.

Han shuffled around for a bit in silence, until the lull was interrupted by footsteps behind him.

"The imperials are unusually slow today." said a gruff voice next to Han. Not someone he knew.

"Tell me about it." Han replied nonchalantly, not even glancing towards who was talking to him.

"I'd bet my credits it's some foolhardy pirates. I've seen some of them use the sidestep route to smuggle out spices near Anoat." Now that Han has turned to his conversation partner, he realized it was a Mon Calamari, dressed in overalls with a power converter in hand.

"Nope. Can't be pirates. They duck and run the moment they see anything imperial." Han dismissed the idea immediately "I'd say they are trying to outrun us to our hyperspace exit point by micro-jumping across the sector." Han tossed around his communicator like a little stress toy, throwing it up in the air, and catching it with one hand absentmindedly. "If they are doing that… It would explain why they aren't here above us right now." Han pointed upwards to an empty sky with his finger. "But… This also means they will give us a nasty surprise on our way out of this shithole." He finished grimly.

The Mon Calamari didn't respond, making Han look over to the mechanic, noticing that the aquatic creature was pointedly staring at something out of the view port.

"Hey… Is that our boy running around over there?" The Mon Calamari pointed outside, where on a small platform was the Skywalker kid looking around with a panicked expression, no doubt looking for Han.

"Yep. That's him." Han didn't even have to confirm it was the kid with his own eyes. Rebreather fully recharged, he took several steps down the shuttle ramp and walked outside. "What has got you so-"

"Han!" Luke looked more alarmed than usual which set off different kinds of Hans' own alarms off. "Why don't we just calm down-"

"The Imperials are here!" Luke grasped. His eyes bulged.

"Yeah. We knew they would-" Luke interrupted again.

"No! Just—listen to me for a second!" Luke was almost shaking. Han finally had enough sense to shut up and try and understand what the kid was trying to say. "They… They are on fire. One of our pilots came close enough to see immense hull breaches on the star destroyers."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Han's voice hardened. "Star Destroyers don't just catch fire, kid." Again Luke looked frustrated. "No!-"

As Han made to walk, Luke caught up to his side.

"-There isn't a pirate fleet large enough to give the Imperials such a beating." Luke continued "Even our Hoth fleet wouldn't be able to do this much damage." Luke explained, and he finally felt Han was beginning to understand the seriousness of the situation.

"If what you're saying is true, then this wasn't just some Purrgil migration… Are you telling me there's someone else who kicked the Empire halfway across the Outer Rim?" Luke's face was overcome with relief as Han was catching on, but then twisted back into worry as Han again began writing off the situation.

"Well. Who are we to stop these guys from beating on the empire? Why don't we get done with the evacuation?… I'm sick of this planet." The smuggler almost spat the last part out as Luke began pacing fervently, his hands behind his back twitching.

"It's not just my hunch Han! I feel it in the force… There is something seriously wrong with this situation. It isn't normal."

"Oh, great. The spooky wizard instincts again. I can't believe now I'm hoping it was just the pirates…" Han had an unreadable expression, but Luke knew it was the face he makes when a situation requires too much mental effort on his part.

Han finally caved to Luke. Maybe it really was just the weird butterflies in his stomach, or it was a natural response to an array of events that don't make sense piling into him. But that feeling of wrongness also found itself inside of the smuggler.

"Ugh. Now that you put it this way…. This really is a… Unique… situation so to say. My gut feels that something ain't right."

"Mine as well." Sparked up again the gruff voice of the Mon Calamari, who lumbered down the staircase of the shuttle. "I would listen to the kid if I was you." He pointed to Han as his eyes squinted.

"Fine." Han said almost nasally while rolling his eyes. He put his hands on his waist as he leaned on the shuttle's exterior. "Let's entertain the idea then." Han huffed, folding his hands in a lazy manner before continuing.

"Alright, geniuses. What's your plan then, huh?" Han began his train of thought, expecting neither Luke nor the mechanic to pipe up with a proper solution.

"Let me get this straight… We know that the imperials are getting their ass kicked right now. Woopty doo." Han threw his hands up in a mocking gesture "So while they are fighting this unknown 'threat', which might not even be a threat to us at all. We-" Han held out a pause. "-Get the last of our boys here spaceborne, and leave the imperials and our mysterious benefactors behind to fight for scraps of our base."

"Sounds like a plan?" He asked rhetorically, and before Luke could even argue Han merely stuck out his index finger in a silencing motion. "There really isn't much we can do even if we wanted to. We have ten shuttles filled to the brim with our boys that we can't risk in space combat, and three squadrons of X-Wings, which isn't exactly a fighting force either." Han continued. "If we send them out to investigate, we are leaving our vital shuttles behind… Unprotected."

That last part has seemingly blown the winds out of Luke's sails, deflating the commander.

Luke clenched his fists. Han had a point—going alone was reckless. But if he didn't… who would?

"I have to try," he said under his breath. Then, before Han could stop him, he was off. Luke has apparently made up his mind as he dashed away towards his own X-Wing.

"Wait kid- wait!" Han tried to grasp at Luke's clothes but his hands only slipped off of them. Boy is this skywalker kid a lot of trouble. Han halfway gave up on the sprint, slowing down and only watching as Luke's frame slowly shrunk with distance.

"Why do I have a feeling he will get himself in trouble?" Han asked no one in particular, but got a response nonetheless.

An agreeable growl came from next to Han, as a towering and hairy, almost bigfoot like creature approached.

"You said it, Chewie."

Luke saw Anoat grow smaller as his X-wing took him out of the stratosphere, and into space proper.

Beep-Boop-Beep*

"I know Artoo, but Han would have never let me go alone!"

Bwooooop*

"Hey! I don't think this is a bad idea! A bit rushed maybe…"

Bewooop-Boop-Boop*

"Well, either way you are coming along."

Sweat slicked Luke's palms, his grip tightening on the controls. Luke was clutching at the joystick harder than usual, his eyes laser focused on scanning the surroundings. Even as he entered the outer edges of a Star Destroyer's turbolaser range, no fire came. The only evidence that these ships were even manned was the fact that he could still spot light illuminating out of the windows on the superstructures.

His pulse pounded in his ears. No turbolasers. No TIE Fighters. Just those eerie, glowing windows. What the hell was going on?

Bwoop?*

"I see it too. Probably only cosmetic damage though."

Luke magnified the image on his nav-computer, focusing on the leading Star Destroyer. Through the hull breaches, all he could see was fire—roaring, unchecked, obscuring whatever was happening inside.

"Are you out of your mind?" Luke's transceiver crackled to life with a very angry Han Solo on the line. "We are missing Two commanders at Anoat, One that has run off on his adventure-" the transceiver crackled angrily "- and a Second one that went to chase after him!"

Luke suddenly had an urge to look behind him, and as he gazed into the rear camera he saw the Millenium Falcon on his tail.

"Han?" Luke felt frustration at first—he hadn't wanted anyone else to risk their life. But damn it, he was relieved too.

"I have to do this alone Han! Someone has to remain to look after the evacuation." Luke talked back into the transceiver only to receive an audible click of a tongue on the other side.

"Not happening, kid. I already roped Leia into watching over our boys. No way I'm letting you fly into an Imperial armada alone."

It was touching, but Luke really didn't want anyone else's life at risk, especially Han's.

"This is a really bad time…" Luke almost silently muttered through the transceiver, knowing there was probably no way for him to convince Han to back away.

"Yes kid, it is, and you are the one who picked it." Han left no room for argument as Luke ended up stewing in the wake of his own choices. Through this, neither Han nor Luke let up on their concentration as they approached a smaller docking bay on the lead ISD, which they assumed was Vader's Devastator. It was in an aft area, further away from the main hangar on the belly of the ship, which was most likely a no-go zone for both of them.

"Docking!" Luke announced out of habit as he began aligning his craft with the rather tight landing area. Han threw out an affirmative as he trailed right behind Luke.
The X-Wing flew into the hangar first, deploying landing gear, as Luke began opening the canopy and peeking out to get a good look of the hangar bay. The biggest red flag that kept him on the edge was a distinct lack of personnel manning the area. The TIE fighter's remained attached to the decouplers, meaning whatever hit the star destroyers, did it quicker then the TIE fighters could be deployed.

The supply crates were thrown about disorderly, and there were black marks pocketing the entirety of the hangar.

As soon as Luke touched down he heard a familiar hum of the Millenium Falcon, as it followed Luke into the hangar and landed on a deck higher than Luke's X-wing.

As the Falcon's ramp lowered to reveal Han and Chewie, Luke was already out of the X-wing, helmet in hand, with R2-D2 hopping out using his mini thrusters.

Beep-Bwooop*

"Yeah, he doesn't listen to either of us huh?" Han said affirmatively to the droid, patting its head and letting it ride off into the corridor. Luke, Han and Chewie followed behind, lightsaber raised and guns pointed at the unknown.

The entire corridor smelled of a familiar metallic stink, and it didn't take long for squelching sounds to make themselves apparent in this dark hallway. The red liquid stuck to Han's boots like glue, and it took a lot of willpower for him not to gag at the sight.

"That's a lot of blood alright." Han couldn't help but comment. It's not that the blood itself really stood out. Everyone bled. But it was the sheer volume of it. If he could estimate, Han would say it was at least an inch deep puddle, which was impressive considering just how large the corridor was.

Luke didn't even bother to hide how much the surroundings bothered him as he emptied his stomach as soon as he stepped on something remotely squishy.

At first it was just the empty helmets lying around and an intensification of blaster marks. What was noticeable was the pattern, especially to a veteran like Han Solo. He knew the fire rate of the E-11 blasters commonly issues to the stormtroopers, and because of how thin the spread was on the wall, a pock mark every meter or so, means something was moving erratically and very fast, not letting the stormtroopers to let out a proper spray into a center mass.

This was concerning at best, and frightening at worst. Hyperspace monsters? No. Just smuggler stories to scare rookies… Right? Han couldn't think of anything that could cause such deliberate and precise havoc.

R2 engaged his front-facing light, bathing the corridor in a piercing white color.

Bodies of stormtroopers lay strewn about, some without helmets, their faces stuck in that of pure horror. While most simply lay dead, other bodies were not a pretty sight. The shiny, white and almost sterile armor of the stormtroopers was painted a bright red color, with most missing their front plate and entrails hanging out.

"They were gutted." Luke felt like vomiting as Han began unveiling his thoughts. "And almost certainly gutted post mortem." Han swiveled Artoo's head around, seeing some of the stormtroopers bolted to the walls around them, spikes penetrating the palms and right through metal. Their guts spilling out of their bellies and dripping onto the floor. It was a scene of nightmares.

They were used to the sight of death… But plasma cauterized the wounds, and you rarely saw actual blood like this. But this wasn't just any normal result of a battle. It was pure gore. The gagging and stinky kind, one that made Han feel uneasy, and Luke lurched at just the sight of it all.

"Who would do this?" Luke asked, more rhetorically than anything, as if calling out to the sheer brutality displayed. Han didn't want to bother himself with questions like that. Clearly they entered a place beyond their usual scope of battlefield violence.

"I think this answers your question, kid." Han tilted Artoo's head sidewards, letting the flashlight reveal a massive and hulkling humanoid decorated in glaring red armor. The helmet resembled a face stuck in eternal anguish, though neither of them could say what was actually beneath the armor. Its right arm was cut off, and laid a few feet away from it, in its clutches was a barbarically large and blocky weapon.

Luke instantly felt a pull towards this fallen being. Even though he felt disgusted at even approaching this fallen monster, he couldn't help but let his hand trace the armor patterns on the chest plate, which proudly displayed an uneven, eight-pointed star.

While Luke was busy getting touchy with whatever that monster is, Han was positively afraid. If his theory about the speed of these things was true, this means that even in this hulking armor, whatever monster wore it had no trouble sprinting and jumping around like a Neimoidian bounty hunter.

"It's time to get out of here Luke…" Han muttered, approaching the crouching Jedi with trepidation. He placed a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Hey… You okay?" He asked, but just remained silent, still tracing patterns across the armor.

"Wha- Yeah… Yeah." Luke suddenly snapped out and stood up. "It's… It's nothing. It's just that I think this was Vader's doing." Luke pointed towards the charred parts of the armor.

"It's as if he got half-way through bisecting this thing, and left it here to die." Luke experimentally gave it a few taps with his feet, confirming that it is not going to move anytime soon.

"I ain't talking about that!" Han said in an annoyed manner. "What's up with you zoning out and rushing off like that anyways?" Han really wanted some clarification out of Skywalker… And he wasn't receiving any.

"Han. I swear. It's almost like I feel some sort of pull towards this thing. Like the force wanted me to see the symbol and understand it!" Luke was waving around in a haphazard manner making even Han nervous.

"Luke, you're making no sense. Just stop." Han gave Luke a rather forceful nudge with his finger, but was quickly wrapped up in an embrace by Chewbacca who held him back from Luke. A low pitched growl rang out from the Wookiee, and Han's face softened.

"Yeah… Sorry Chewie… I just think this place is bad for all of us…" Han explained, as he negotiated himself out of Chewie's hug, only for Chewie to grab Luke as well and force both him and Luke together in one tight hold.

"Alright, alright! We get it, Chewie." Han tried to wiggle his way out only to be met with failure. Chewbacca let out a series of gentle growls that made Han roll his eyes, and Luke fidget.

Their soft moment was interrupted by an audible metallic clang as what seemed to be a corpse has shifted a tiny bit. Luke jumped back a foot, followed by Han and Chewie, who looked towards the fallen warrior with trepidation.

"I swear that thing has just moved!"

"I believe you kid." Han replied, sweat beading down his grimy face, leaving trenches of clear skin on his forehead.

The smuggler instincts in Han were blaring all types of alarms, that he needs to leave, and fast! But he couldn't just let Luke go through hellhole alone, meaning he had to forgo all of his self-preservation, just to see this kid make it.

"The quicker we get out of here the better." He said, hoping Luke would take the hint that at this level, their competency ends. Thankfully, the Wookiee growled out something Han could get behind with. "Couldn't have said it better, Chewie."

With that, they made their way towards the next corridor, from which distant metallic thuds could be heard.

And on this note we will end the first chapter! Thanks for reading all the way through to the end. This is my first work, so I'll try to keep my uploading at least semi-consistent, especially if this story gains traction. Otherwise it is just a fun thought experiment. I would appreciate your thoughts and recommendations, so don't hesitate to review!