Chapter 13 Part 6

Chapter 13: Revelations

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Part 6

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Deimos Peninsula

Kronus

The final assault upon the Traitors and Heretics was finally underway, and the enemy resistance was underwhelming. Small groups of Berskerkers eager for bloody death, Daemon Engines and the occasional profaned Dreadnought made a stand. They tried to slow down the sword of righteous justice that was a long time coming for them.

It wasn't enough. Any strong-point turned into a magnet for artillery and the personal attention of Necron Monolith. Green lighting lashed at enemy positions, reducing weapons and fortifications to a smoking ruin. Screaming Cultists fell where they stood as little more than charred skeletons. Here and there, individual units went on suicidal charges to be gunned down by the marching Necron forces, blow away by agile destroyers, or singled out by Imperial armor.

It was a pleasant change to see such an assault where Imperial infantry didn't have to purchase victory with mountains of bodies and rivers of blood. This time, only veteran forces were on the battlefield, outfitted with the best available equipment. Their only job was to keep enemy anti-tank teams away from the vehicles. There was no need for expensive assaults upon fortified positions.

An ever-increasing swarm of Necron Drones provided an unprecedented level of battlefield intelligence that almost made Captain Thule envious. Smaller, insect-like swarms braved the Warp-infused top of the plateau, shredding enemy light infantry and acting as spotters for long-range bombardment.

There was only one last lightly defended position, and they would reach the top. Then the target would be both in sight and range.

A shroud of darkness enveloped the last Traitor bastion. A couple of seconds later, it dispersed as light mist blown away by the wind to reveal the Necron Lord surrounded by a large retinue of heavy infantry right behind the enemy position. Gauss weaponry aimed with machine precision and cut through the defenders while they were still trying to figure out what was happening.

At the same time, over a hundred Destroyers charged up the slope, firing all the way.

"Up and at them! Victory is at sight!" Thule roared. He wouldn't let the Necrons claim they won the day alone!

Imperial armor rumbled and ponderously charged at the Heretics. Tactical squads advanced at a brisk pace, without letting it influence their accuracy. They used missile launchers and plasma guns to good effect.

The final defense line lasted three minutes under the onslaught before crumbling. It survived that long, only because it contained a number of Daemons hiding in order to spring one last surprise. Large clumps of diseased flesh covered by pustules and open sores rose from trenches. They ran out of burning bunkers or even dug themselves out of the ground to attack the Necrons.

Captain Thule grimaced at the thought of facing those things in close combat. Any breach in the armor would mean a long and unpleasant recovery for an Astartes, and no guarantee they would make it. A normal human exposed to those things? The Emperor's mercy might be the only option if their armor was compromised.

The Necrons didn't care. They blasted the diseased Daemons to pieces. A handful almost reached the Necron Lord and the small group of guards surrounding him, only to splatter all over them when shot. The Necron Lord looked at the smoking viscera covering him, and lighting arced all over his group. When it dissipated, he stood a few meters away from his previous position, still surrounded by the deadly honor guard. There was no trace of the disease-ridden viscera to be seen on any of them.

That, Captain Thule, did envy. He didn't want to think about how long any human participating in the assault would spend under quarantine. He wanted to think even less about the fate of too many good men and women. When the Inquisition arrived in force to deal with this madness, it might be inclined to purge many of those who survived assaulting this Chaos-infested wasteland.

The Daemons achieved one thing – they slowed the advance of the Imperial forces until the place where they died could be liberally doused in a blessed fire. The Necrons didn't care. They either marched through the fires, ignoring them or simply teleported to the top.

"Assault Marines, with me! We're ending this!" Captain Thule ordered. When he received confirmation from his jump-pack-equipped Brothers, he activated his pack and rocketed over the battlefield. The top was barely in range from his position, but he made it with a safe margin to spare.

No defense fire came to meet him.

There were no enemies to fight. All surviving enemy forces were clustered near the portal at the far end of the plateau, fighting to get through. Necron Drones swarmed them, and constant explosions ravaged the Traitors. More and more Necron Infantry appeared in flashes of green, corralling the enemy and slaughtering them with practiced precision.

A wave of Destroyers rose above the last Traitor bastion followed by a handful of Eldar Grav tanks. Rohan the Ranger rode on top of the leading machine, which soon took a position for long-range bombardment and unleashed its exotic weaponry.

It was all over but the screaming. Even the Warp-infused structure of the Warp Gate couldn't survive the onslaught for long. Whatever unnatural sorcery kept it open and protected it had a limit. Slowly but surely, its spiky surface began to crack or melt, before imploding. The rippling vortex of madness at its heart spluttered, cutting in half the last group that managed to fight its way to dubious salvation. The portal to insanity closed, leaving behind about ten thousand or so Traitors, Heretics, and mutants. Spread among their mass, Thule could see the odd Traitor Astartes. Those tried fighting their way out of the mob, probably seeking death in combat.

It was not to be. Earth-shaker rounds smashed into the crowd, pulping it. The Baneblade climbed on the plateau, appearing like a Daemon for a moment. Blessed fires covered the tank, which turned its massive turret at the enemy and the battle cannon roared once, sealing the end of the unclean.

The end was brutal and efficient, leaving the Imperial forces as little more than spectators. That allowed Captain Thule to observe their "allies", count their numbers, and reach a predictable conclusion. The Necron had enough operational forces in the Deimos Peninsula alone to make combat with them unfeasible. He knew that they were still busy awakening more of their kind.

He hoped Imperial reinforcements would arrive soon. Very heavy reinforcements at that, protected by strong Navy element, because otherwise, they might not bother. Truth be told, the Blood Raven was expecting an inevitable stab in the back by the Necrons. They no longer needed Imperial assistance.

And perhaps it was time for it. Another flash of green and the Necron Lord was nearby, walking towards them followed by eight large guards. This was it, wasn't it?

"All units on this frequency, prepare for Fall. I say again, prepare for Fall Contingency!" The Captain announced for what little good it would do. He tightened his grip on his weapons and prepared to pounce.

"Rejoice, human!" The Necron announced.

Because being ready to slaughter us should make us happy?! Thule sneered under his helmet.

"Our respective reinforcements are in the system!" The Necron announced, momentarily taking aback the Captain. "In their infinite wisdom, they have decided to talk."

Thule expected everything to go straight to hell as soon as reinforcement arrived. He certainly didn't expect them to do something as outlandish as to try to negotiate with the Xenos. That was just Inquisitor Veil being odd, inexperienced, and kind of crazy, right?

"We won't be shooting at each other today." There was no mistaking it. The Necron was enjoying himself. "What say you, Ranger Rohan, of the Aeldari? What treachery are you plotting now?"

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Rarely, Rohan has been more grateful for the full face-covering helmet typical to his station. He was relieved and almost happy that the humans and Necrons couldn't see his expression. He screamed in the privacy of his mind. Were the humans insane? More insane than usual anyway. What about the Necrons?! What did those murdering machines have to gain from this?! Was the Necron Lord lying?

"Affirmative." The Blood Raven Captain nodded. "I just got word from Captain Ignatius. An Inquisitorial ship is in the system, and the Inquisitor on board is currently negotiating with the commander of a Necron Naval battle group approaching Kronus." The human said aloud and relaxed a fraction.

At that, everyone turned to look at the Aeldari. Rohan was keenly aware of how outnumbered his small contingent was. If it was just the humans, and he felt particularly foolish, engaging them might have been an option. Hit-and-run tactics to dismantle them from range and avoid facing their might directly.

Waging war against the Necron juggernaut awakened on Kronus with what he had available was out of the question.

"Our work here is almost done. Before leaving, I would want to witness the disposal of the Daemon bound within the Eres Badlands." Rohan was proud of how calm and composed his voice sounded. It reflected nothing of what he felt inside.

"That might be acceptable." The Space Marine allowed warily.

"Another test is in order." The Necron agreed, while its soulless eyes stared at Rohan.

"What about this region? It's corrupted."

"Another test. We're building multiple Pylons. It would be educational to observe their effect upon the area once deployed at full power."

Rohan wanted to be as far from this cursed peninsula as possible when that happened.