Note: This is a re-write of a prior story that went by the same name/premise but has had some subtle and major changes.


The invasion had begun.

The cerebral minds of a dozen lords worked to unravel the layers of defences that where stationed on the forge world of Maleghra. Choked by the toxic fumes of the endless machines in the miles high manufactorum complexes, the planet was shrouded in an almost perpetual shade.

Every now and again specs of dust and black clouds would part to allow the red giant Balladan to illuminate the greyscale world with its warm fiery touch.

Several regiments of Astra militarum and even a Space marine chapter had taken to the forge world, for it supplied crucial war machines and vessels to carry the Emperors due to traitors, xenos and mutant alike.

Now, fate would have Maleghra pay its own at the hands of a primeval menace. A race of blighted machines that have been resurrected to enact their will on the galaxy, and it is upon this world that the Dominion of the eastern fringe has grasped. Every passing hour sees mechanical talons sink their grasp further and further into the planet.

Legion upon legion relentlessly advance into hab-block, sewers, palaces and work-zones. It was a systematic, planet wide extermination. Or at least that was what the Imperium believed...

Khaoron, the Overlord of Astilia sat enthroned on his starborne vessel, Shadowlith, surveying the real-time holographic visuals of each and every one of his vassals. It was not yet necessary for him to descend to the surface and he was content with letting the lesser lords and nobles play their part in the theatre of war. The gargantuan antechamber that was the bridge of the vessel was lavished by the display of combat at the surface, a slow advance that only the undead would have patience for.

"My lord, Zankhrow has prevailed against the Astartes in the northern region of sector 47-9b, the area is now subject to our obelisks."

Hollow ruby eyes blazed with a myriad thoughts and calculations and despite the technological superiority the Necrons had the sheer mass of humans were proving to be something resembling a challenge. For Khaoron it had been a little over eons since he was subject to a war that victory was never assuredly in his grasp. Even after the millennia in stasis and reawakening to find his world a far cry from its true glory, he had managed to best all his enemies with nothing but contemptuous ease. Whole systems had been enslaved to the will of the Dominion and planets were darkened, never again to be seen by the light of the Astronomicon.

"Lord Khaoron, Kar'taknen has begun a full scale retreat of his forces, estimate damage...47% the enemy have air superiority and are beginning bombing runs, estimate damage...89%."

When he was alive Khaoron might have rustled at the horrific loses but now, unfeeling and cold he looked on still at the pyrotechnic display of his legions being blasted apart in an inferno.

Besides his throne Xenon stepped forward, the Triarch Legionnaires eyes burned with displeasure as he hastened to several control panels.

Within moments all visuals of the multiple theatres of conflict were erased and replaced with the single figure of Kar'taknen. The Necron lords frame was pitted with circular craters and scarred by several burn marks. A layer of soot and ash also clung to the now darkened metallic frame, turning the royal scarlet of the dynasty into a dirty red.

Seconds turned to unresponsive minutes as Khaoron waited, his eyes never gazing away from Kar'taknen, it wasn't until the voice of Xenon bellowed through the antechamber, demanding the lord's attention that the silence was broken.

"The war is being prosecuted all according to your parameters, we advance steadily upon the enemy capital."

"My parameters?" Khaoron asked, he couldn't care less for the lack of honorific when addressed but something else caught his attention.

"Yes. This war is all according to your plans...is it not?"

The question forced a mechanical laugh from the Overlord, if it was anyone else they would have been graced with the event horizon of a black hole.

"Aboard the Shadowlith I gathered my generals, nobles of Astilia and I gave them free reign to bring the humans to heel, this is your war Necron, failure is on your head."

The image of Kar'taknen stepped forward tightly grasping his warscythe.

"Failure is not something I court when dealing with mortal creatures, I am a noble of Astilia a Necron Lord-"

"And I am its Overlord!" Khaorons interjection was swift like a Voidblade, his voice carrying a haunting tone that silenced even the undead crew of the bridge "You are dismissed."

The holographic light fizzed and faded instantly and with it came the previous visuals of the multi-faceted conflict.

Rising to his full regalia Khaoron moved away from his throne and out of the antechamber, following in suit was Xenon.

"Ready my royal Decurion and the Deathbringer flight, we head for the surface."

"If Kar'taknen hadn't been as consumed by his arrogance, there wouldn't be a need for your descent." Xenon replied.

Khaoron stopped for a moment seemingly lost in contemplation before responding.

"Of all my vassals he is the only one I trust...when you give someone a semblance of power they will do everything to keep it. Kar'taknen is certainly arrogant but a fool he is not; I can speculate with assured accuracy that complications arose on the surface that forced his hand."

The glimmer of contemplation and understanding shone in Xenon's eyes and Khaoron continued.

"He would never seek to leave the shadow I cast because it is only under it that he can hope to show his, occasional, brilliance."

"This complication then, it will require more than just a Decurion and formation?"

"Of course...release the Tesseract Vault."