The Skaven descended upon the planet in a deluge of filth. The fledgling cities of the T'au Empire were instantly thrown into chaos as warp-gnawed drop-pods smashed into the streets. Within the urban sectors, Fire Warriors scrambled to activate energy shields while providing desperate cover for the evacuation of civilians, specifically the essential Earth Caste engineers.
"What are they?"
In high orbit, the sudden emergence of the Rat-Nest Fleet had completely blindsided the Enclave flotilla. An armada of such staggering scale now choked the planet's orbital paths, and dozens of these vessels began to close in on the T'au fleet, led by two massive Custodian-class Battleships.
These unknown xenos warships looked bizarre and ramshackle, appearing as though they were composed of space-borne refuse. Yet, they differed from the "junkyard" aesthetic of the Orks; this was a refined level of squalor, shoddy construction elevated to a terrifying art form.
From the chaotic batteries of these derelict hulls, volley after volley of emerald energy pulses shrieked toward the T'au.
"The enemy numbers are too great! Evasive maneuvers! Return fire and signal the ground extraction teams immediately!" The T'au fleet commander realized instantly that his small task force was outmatched. Even as he ordered a withdrawal, he sent a high-priority interstellar transmission to Commander Farsight requesting immediate reinforcements.
"Don't let them-them flee! Yes-yes!"
A Moulder Master Mutator Warlord watched the sensor-screens, screeching orders at his Skaven pilot.
"At once, my treacherous master!"
The pilot bobbed his head in a frantic display of fealty before slamming a clawed paw onto a massive rusted button. Instantly, the Skaven ship jettisoned a storm of small craft that surrounded the T'au fleet like a cloud of stinging insects.
These small vessels, known as Pup-class Torpedo Boats, were the expendable chaff of the Rat-Nest Fleet. Each was barely twenty meters in diameter, armed only with twin-linked Storm-Warp Ratling Guns.
However, the true weapon of these sphere-like ships was their engine. These sputtering, fire-spewing thrusters were, in reality, massive Warp-bombs. Even the Skaven pilots were unaware that when they drew close enough to a target, the Hive-ship commanders would remotely trigger the engines to overload, forcing the craft to ram and self-destruct against the enemy hulls.
Unaware of the Skaven's suicidal doctrine, the T'au, who traditionally loathed close-quarters void combat, attempted to create distance. A dozen Emissary-class Light Cruisers and over twenty Warden-class Frigates fanned out to shield the Battleships, unleashing a blistering hail of pulse fire at the incoming metallic spheres.
Any craft struck was instantly reduced to cosmic dust, but far more simply slipped through the gaps. These "Pup" boats, trailing sick-green exhaust, swarmed the T'au flanks and rear, while the main Moulder fleet advanced with a ponderous, crushing weight of fire.
"DIE-DIE! SCREEEEE!" Inside the torpedo boats, the Clanrat pilots, ignorant of their impending doom, glared at their foes and held down the firing studs.
In the vacuum of space, Warp-rounds spat out at a rate of a thousand rounds per minute. 12.5mm projectiles traced lines of green fire against the T'au hulls. To the horror of the T'au crews, these seemingly primitive slugs were punching through hull plating even after passing through the deflection fields. The kinetic and entropic energy of the Warp-shot bore a terrifying resemblance to the weaponry of the Necrons, a devastating lethality that ignored conventional durability.
Suddenly, a series of rolling explosions rocked the formation. From the bridge of his Custodian-class flagship, the T'au commander watched in horror as a Frigate was swamped by the small craft, disappearing in a chain reaction of green-tinged detonations.
This was Skaven boarding: a trade of rat-lives for enemy hulls. The T'au sailors were gripped by a new fear; it was as if they had encountered a nightmare hybrid of the Orks' numbers and the Necrons' technological malice.
On the surface, the Fire Warriors engaged this new threat. From the landing pods emerged an endless tide of hunched, fur-covered humanoids with long, filthy tails.
These creatures shrieked and chattered, wearing almost no clothing and wielding crude blades and pistols. Their only truly terrifying attribute was their sheer, suffocating numbers. The T'au could not fathom how so many beings could be crammed into a single drop-pod. Where was the life support? The structural integrity? What of the oxygen scrubbers?
But there was no time for questions. The Skaven were upon them. The Fire Warriors used the city's architecture as a bulwark, fighting with the Hunter Cadre as their tactical core.
Unlike the Imperium, which treated its Guardsmen as expendable and strictly separated infantry from armor to prevent rebellion, the T'au, the smallest but most rational of civilizations, utilized the Hunter Cadre as a highly integrated unit.
This specific Cadre was a formidable force: a Commander with four XV8 Crisis Bodyguards, twelve additional XV8 Crisis Suits, sixty Fire Warriors in Devilfish Transports, twenty Pathfinders, an XV104 Riptide Battlesuit, four Hammerhead Gunships, and a complement of Sky Ray Missile Defences and Razorshark Strike Fighters.
This flexible mix of long-range sniping and rapid-response assault typically allowed the T'au to dominate small-scale skirmishes. Utilizing their superior communications network, the Cadre Commander coordinated his units with surgical precision. Railgun slugs and seeker missiles systematically erased any target of high tactical value.
But the Skaven did not care. The Slaves were there only to deplete the enemy's energy cells and ammunition.
The Skaven swarmed into the city, looting and pillaging anything that looked valuable, only to be kicked aside and robbed by their own kin in a cycle of mindless avarice. Overhead, the pulse carbines of Tactical Drones fired incessantly; at this density, they didn't even need to aim to hit a ratman.
As Clan Moulder, they possessed a nearly infinite supply of "cannon fodder." Exporting Slaves to other clans was a primary source of Moulder's wealth.
Sensing the time was right, Throt ordered the release of the War-Beast Packs. Massive pods slammed down, unleashing Wolf Rats with Warpstone-grafted claws and teeth. Infused with lupine tracking genes, they surged into the jungles to hunt the Kroot.
Simultaneously, thousands of Rat Ogres and the colossal, twitching bulks of Hell Pit Abominations began their lumbering advance toward the T'au city.
Inside the city, the mobile Hunter Cadres were forced to contract their lines against the overwhelming biological tide. They formed a final, interlocking kill-zone around the starport to protect the fleeing Earth Caste.
Concentrating their fire, the T'au unleashed a desperate "Mont'ka" killing blow! An XV108 Battlesuit identified a Skaven Warlord mounted atop a massive Bonebreaker. A single burst from a pulse driver reduced the beast and its rider to charred cinders.
The rat-swarm faltered for a moment in a flicker of instinctive terror. But then, a low, thunderous rumbling echoed from the outskirts.
The T'au commander looked up to see a wave of living nightmares, even larger than the first, surging toward them like a mountain of mutated flesh.
——————
If you want to read ahead of everyone, go to my pat-reon: pat-re-on.c-om/magnor (remove the hyphen to access normally)
For more free additional chapters, throw some power stones!
100 PS = 1 Chapter.