KOLSTROM BURNING
-PLANET FALL-
Civil war had come to Kolstrom V. Crumbling political edicts and an ever increasing sense of tyranny had finaly awakened the sleeping giant that was the Manufactorum workers. Loudhailers screeched out into the night from Adeptus Arbites transports declaring martial law and the PDF forces had been drafted into the main Hive city to quell the worst of the rioting. It had taken six months before the Fabricator-General and the planetary Governor had finally given into the pleadings of their council and saught Imperial aid. What had begun as a tidal wave of oppressed workers lashing back at the hand that fed them had sundered society and turned Kazon Hive into the central point of world wide conflict. The Kazon 5th had managed to endure siege for six long and brutal months inside the Hives, repelling constant assaults upon the walls. Those fighting upon the battlements knew it was only a matter of time before the formidable southern facing gates would buckle and the horde of rebels would bring fire and retribution upon the Hive. What made Kazon Hive a bastion of resistence was the Manufactorums deep in it's heart, the work force pacified and forced to keep the Munitions factories running by the heavy hand of the Adeptus Arbites.
The defenders of Kazon Hive had fresh weapons being produced every day and two Penal Legions from their sister planet of Kolstrom IV. They had survived six months by rotating the Penal Legionnaires between holding the most ravaged parts of the battlements, this had given the Kazon 5th time to rest the defence troopers by platoons. Yet exhaustion still crippled the defence every day and they found small pockets of resistance flaring up inside the Hab sectors closest to the walls, as rebels inevitably found a way through the defence of the walls. The Fabricator-General had refused to be moved from his stance on holding the seige out by themselves untill he was called to the walls. He'd given direct orders he was not to be summoned unless to be made aware of a dire shift in their situation. He assumed the rebel forces had managed to bring up some of the Demolisher pattern Leman Russ manufactured on the southern continent. They had their own Executioner pattern tanks to counter these ordnance lobbing brutes but nothing to stop the destruction of their southern gates.
He was only half right.
The Fabricator-General could feel the heat rising as he descended in his personal transport from the spires of Kazon Hive. He had with him his personal Skitarii body guard and an Prefectus of the Ministratum. It had been five hours since he'd received the call and it had taken him four of those to reach the front lines of the battlements. The heat had kept rising causing beads of sweat to form on what was left of his organic features. He could feel his bionics becoming uncomfortable with the unatural heat. Kolstrom V was a temperate planet of rolling plains and sparse forests, it was usually wet and wind stricken. The Fabricator-General and his followers took a shell loading lift to the wall top, struck by the full effect of the heat wave he took a brief pause to wipe the moisture from his face. His Skitarii forced their way through the mass of Legionaires and Kazon 5th troopers to link up with the command element on the walls. Fear and wide white eyes met them. The Kazon 5th Major pulled at his fatigues and snapped a shaky salute, then gestured to the vista before them.
The horizon burned.
His metallic fingers clacked as he gripped the rockcrete wall, his glittering red bionics whirring and extending to take in the expansive view offered to him. He was becoming more aware of the noise adding itself to the view. Swarms of rebels, even the elements of the Kolstrom Defence Forces stationed in the other Hives were here, baring their guns upon the walls of Kazon Hive. He could see the thick black clouds obscuring the sky where their sister Hive of Tarvon was, reduced to a flaming beacon between the mountains. He felt a shiver a fear creep up through his thoughts and he instinctively clutched his red robes tighter about his armoured frame. His focus fixed upon an edifice several miles out but large enough to be made out clearly, his fingers found the front of the Prefetus white robes and he hauled him forward unceremoniously. He jabbed an armoured finger at the ziggurat and turned his eyes upon the Ministratum representative.
"It...it appears to be a pyre..."
The Fabricator-General could make out giant battle tanks grinding through the mob of rebels, he could see rows of artillery guns being lined up and trench works dug. He could see something else, too far to make it out clearly but the very hazy image of it twisted his stomach and his vision seemed to slip away from it. Then the noise seemed to increase in volume, vast poles rising high at points in the horde before the gates. Loud hailers screamed into the air, adding to the thunder of the horde something it had been lacking. Clarity.
Three words peirced the air, peircing every man of the defending force to their very core.
"Emperor save us..."
Came the Majors voice and the Fabricator-General slapped him hard across the cheek. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the figures rising up from the mob, gigantic hulking figures.
"Inform regimental command to formulate a distress call, wide band on all frequencies. Alert the Ministratum and the System Defence Fleet in orbit around Kolstrom Secundus...just alert everyone."
His eyes picked out the horns, the red and bronze, the living engines of destruction that approached the walls of Kazon.
"Tell them...Kolstrom Quintus is under seige by forces of the Legio Traitorus...Chaos has come..."
Then his words were drowned by the opening salvo upon the walls by the artillery positions. Screaming shells detonated and blasted chunks from the sheer face of the wall, the gate shuddered under the shells that struck it. The void pylons sparked and sent static waves through the air as the giant swirling purple vortex above flared with each shell that struck it. The Fabricator-General scrabbled back to his feet, helping the Prefectus up as the words chanted by the horde outside washed over them once again.
"KILL! MAIM! BURN!"
-1-
[b]=DISTRESS MESSAGE INTERCEPTED=[/b]
[i]-Decode message...Level Vermilion clearance...-[/i]
[b]=CLEARANCE ACCEPTED...MESSAGE AS FOLLOWS:-
KOLSTROM V, KAZON HIVE UNDER SIEGE, TRAITOR FORCES PRESENT, LEGIO XII, DESIGNATION: WORLD EATERS...REQUESTING AID, PLANETARY DEFENCE FORCES TURNED REBEL, KAZON HIVE MANUFACTORUMS CRITICAL OBJECTIVE, DESIGNATION ASTARTES WEAPON PRODUCTION FACILITIES WITHIN MANUFACTORUMS SECUNDUS AND TERTIUS...
...EMPEROR PRESERVE US...=[/b]
[i]-Return Message, same frequency band, message as follows:-
Relief forces on way to intercept Adeptus Traitorus, estimated time from Kolstrom system, four days. -[/i]
The screen went black, a single orange pixel flashing repeatedly in a slow, dull pattern. The figure stood at the wood panelled observation lecturn tapped a ceramite clad finger upon the embossed Aquilla beside the brass rimmed screen. The data runes were chipped, faded and of many different hues. The giant hands framed the lecturn, armour clacking upon the wood effect plastic panels. Flickering, electric candle light spread throughout the dim chamber, casting long and grotesque shadows into the vaulted arches. A skull hovered into the room through a circular portal cut above the wooden door, blinking red lights adorned the grim device, tiny metal limbs clicked and twitched as it breasted the length of the room, chirped at the chambers occupant before disappearing through a portal mirroring its entrance.
The lecturn chimed and the armour clad hands tapped a large green rune. The screen blinked and an orange hue ghosted the figure before it, casting a sickly glow to the hard features regarding it.
[b]=MESSAGE INCOMING, RETURN FREQUENCY=[/b]
[i]-Decode message...Level Vermilion clearance...-[/i]
[b]=CLEARANCE ACCEPTED...MESSAGE AS FOLLOWS:-
Glory to Him, may he grant us four days resolve. System Defence Fleet enroute, estimation four days from system ports.
What is your designation?...[/b]=
[i]-Return Message, same frequency band, message as follows:-
Designation: ADEPTUS ASTARTES; MARINES MALEVOLENT
The Emperor Protects.-[/i]
The door to the chamber opened on creaking hinges, a gust of recycled air detected by the enviromental controls and simulated a flickering in the candle light. Heavy footfalls approached the lecturn and the figure turned, dark eyes regarding the intruder of this quiet domain.
"Greetings Brother-Sergeant Gerhet, are all things well upon my bridge?"
The voice was level, holding the clipped accent of a distant and long forgotten region. The seond figure stamped an armour shod foot and formed the salute of the aquilla across their broad ceramite clad chest. The candle light flickered across the dark red stripe down the centre of the corvus pattern helm, the black visor ports reflecting the dim glow.
"Greetings returned, Brother-Captain Tyrax, all things are well upon your bridge. May I ask how are things within the Sanctum Tactitorum?"
Captain Remus Tyrax curled the corner of his lip in the faintest of smiles, the thick skin tight with scar tissue. He turned away from the lecturn, sweeping a hand in gesture towards the chamber.
"All is quiet, Gerhet. I have recieved a summons of aid."
Gerhet came to stand beside the lecturn, opposite his Captain. He lifted a hand and popped the seals upon his gorget, a hiss of pressure releasing the helmet from its magnetic stripping. He pulled it clear, a shock of white hair sitting free in a warriors stripe above a face only a mother could love.
"That so, Captain? And who, may I enquire, presumes to summon us?"
Tyrax tapped the curved glass of the screen and folded his thick yellow armoured arms across his robed chest.
"That is so, Sergeant. The Fabricator-General and Governor of Kolstrom Quintus request our military prowress in the face of their adversaries. Adversaries you will, I'm sure of it, be delighted to meet in glorious combat."
Gerhet raised a puckered eyebrow, the steel service stud above his right eye glinting. Tyrax waited a moment, letting the Sergeant sit in his suspense before speaking.
"World Eaters."
Gerhet slammed his fist onto the wooden lecturn and bared his teeth.
"By Terra, I relish this. A taste of revenge, I think. I am delighted about this news, Captain. Delighted indeed. I shall make ready an insertion force."
Tyrax cast his eyes to the metal bionic that was Gerhets left arm, taken from him a century prior to this by a World Eater half the galaxy away. It was time the veteran slaked his thirst for vengeance.
"Prepare a strategem for orbital descent, we'll be striking into the battle line where ever it may fall for maximum effect. Deploy Deathstorm pattern pods before releasing our insertion force. I think if the Defence Fleet can maintain air superiority over these traitors we can deploy a more situation appropriate force later, but for now, Brother, just the vanguard."
Gerhet saluted before turning from the lecturn and stalking through the doorway. Brother Captain Tyrax turned back to the lecturn and clasped it with his armoured hands.
"Oh, and Sergeant!"
Gerhet stopped, half turned back to the Captain.
"Do not mistake this for charity, Kazon Hive's primary manufactorums process Astartes grade weaponry to be shipped out to the Ministratum. I intend to replenish our armoury in favour of this defence."
Vetern-Sergeant Gerhet barked a short laugh and slammed the door behind him.