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.
When Avadan Tarsus stared at the dusk sky he wouldn't see charcoal shaded clouds filled with pollutant gases. He wouldn't see the red hues of Balladan dancing across the thickness of the atmosphere. At the grand forge palace of the Archmagos Myllinox the 2nd company captain of the Dire Wolves would gaze to the skies and witness what an invasion really meant.
The Astartes was no stranger to siege warfare. Having fought on both sides he had vital experience and ensured that the defences of the forge palace was as articulate and impenetrable as only an Imperial Fist would be proud of. In fact, it was only mere hours ago that they had comfortably routed a large Necron phalanx.
Now, a single drop of cold sweat fell from his scarred brow to drop onto his fiery orange armour. As a space marine he knew no fear and yet, he could not help but balk at the living tomb that descended from the heavens.
Scores of monoliths began their descent in a ponderous formation that was equally flanked by a cluster of humming obelisks. The charcoal clouds gave way to the sheen of the alien living metal, and the red glow of Balladan was instead drowned out by the circulating blue discharge of ancient war machines.
The Shadowlith hung closely to the stratosphere of the planet, and aboard Khaoron watched with indifference.
"The humans have fortified an impressive station for themselves."
Khaoron barely noticed the hunched cryptek crawl into the teleportation array.
"No wonder Kar'taknen was defeated, his legions would have been smashed by the near infinite corridors and ramparts while trying to storm the central stairwell," as he spoke Khaorons eyes stared at the visual image the cryptek created with just a wave of his hand "whatever their commander is, it is very knowledgeable to craft a marvel of structure."
"You marvel at the creations of these creatures?"
"I marvel that they are at the very least adept. My lord, is it really wise to stage an assault of this level?"
Now Khaoron arched his gaze to stare at Casa'ravon, despite being fashioned into a high quality necrodermis frame the techno-sorcerer still walked with a gait that one would imagine as spinal damage despite rarely ever attending any form of surface conflict.
"Explain yourself cryptek." he drowned out slowly.
"You gave your nobles independence to carry out the subjugation of this world, now you take it from them to clean up the mess Kar'taknen had left himself in, I must express concern that this move is not the soundest."
"Consider this the enemy capital," Khaoron started, although his eyes betrayed the spark of irritation of explaining his thoughts "When we first arrived using the Celestious we found a world although unprepared was fortunate to have garrisoned such a large force, likely we caught them in a routine upkeep and supply and with surprise we overwhelmed their fleet and annihilated all hopes of leaving the planet. Yet their entire world is a fortress, not one specific area more defendable than the other, to tackle this our forces scoured the surface simultaneously, cutting off any offensive battle groups from one another...nevertheless here they are... the insects have scurried to gather at a hive, no doubt to wait out the onslaught until reinforcements arrive."
"Reinforcements my lord? I intercepted no such call."
"You didn't, but I did."
At this the cyclopean Necron was unsure. He was no warrior for certain, his skills were more suited to operations and crafts aboard the Shadowlith, and yet why did he not pick up a distress signal from the human world? Biotransferrance had removed the feeling of fear from him but the concept was still engrained in his mind, and a question burned more brightly than a furnace.
What does Khaoron know that he doesn't?
In any case the Overlord was done explaining things to his cryptek when Xenon arrived at the array, a curt nod and an information burst signalled to Khaoron that the stage was set for the downfall of the humans.
The room fizzled to life as several archways ignited with blue light, and from elevating platforms ranks of Necrons stepped forward waiting to be thrust inevitably into battle.
At the centre of the hall a barge arose, its drivers already grafted to the controls, ready for the Overlord to take command.
Meanwhile, at the surface of Maleghra, apocalypse ensued.
Avadan, with the help of the Commissars bolt pistol, had rallied the Astra militarum and PDF to take to the guns post haste. Within minutes the sky exploded with a barrage of flak, ordnance, incendiary and all manner of projectile known and unknown.
Amidst the barrage Avadan struggled to count accurately the number of Necron vessels still descending, regardless if even a handful made under the firing arcs of the AA batteries the hour would get magnanimously worse.
Slow minutes fleeted by before orders were issued to cease fire, a haze of dust and debris littered the already polluted sky, shrouding the palace in a premature darkness denser than anything the charcoal clouds could achieve. The seconds of cease fire were staggering, an uneasy anxiousness gnawed at Avadan and he tugged at his power sword restlessly.
The restlessness would have been suppressed easily enough if he didn't notice his battle brothers displaying the same symptoms, Unable to handle it he voxed in the Tempestor Sojric. He didn't even begin his sentence when the veteran Scion voiced his own concerns. That was the final straw.
Turning and sprinting to a battlement Comm. Station he barked to the officer to begin opening fire again. Maybe if the Captain had acted on his instincts they would have been prepared for the Doom scythes.
Under the cover of the immense debris floating around the fliers had perfect cover. Invisible to even acute scanners they hit the Imperial position like a thunderbolt. Death rays lit the ground with lines of explosions. Everywhere around him Avadan saw turret, station and land suffer horribly to the sudden assault.
Without even realising it he was lying in the dirt, blackened pieces of rubble and human flesh surrounded him as the once Comm. Station was reduced to dust.
As he stared into the heavens he witnessed hundreds of Doom scythes rake the ground with fire, they circled once then twice before peeling off into the distance their wailing cacophony leaving with them.
The Imperium had been bloodied but not yet mortally wounded. On the double, squadrons of Vendettas took to the skies and anyone brave enough to man a turret still in existence fired haphazardly trying to knock down as many enemy fliers as possible.
Between all this, from the cover of parted debris, the monoliths still descended. The intense barrage clearly had an effect as many sported damage that even the living metal struggled to keep pace with. But it was still not enough, in actuality only a handful had been destroyed in their descent, and too many obelisks remained to warrant closer strikes with air support.
Avadan took a moments stock and realised the knifes edge they were in, the militarum needed rallying again if they were to repel the ground invasion that was imminent, now that air cover couldn't be counted on they needed to take the fight into the narrow corridors of the sub-forge and deny the Necrons their numerical advantage.
Cursing loudly to himself the Dire Wolf captain ordered all of his men to form up in their transports. By the Emperors will they were going to lead by example and pray that the militarum follow. Armoured battle groups of rhinos, predators and whirlwinds revved their machine spirits and tumbled off into the lower battlements of the palace.
And it was all according to plan.
Within moments the first of the monoliths touch ground and from swirling eternity gates the Necrons stepped forward to begin their siege. Aboard the command barge Khaoron surveyed the scene before him. Elevated above the battlefield he could see with certainty the orange figures race to the lower levels to forestall the ground assault. Amongst the tight corridors his warriors will most likely be funnelled and obliterated with precision just like Kar'taknen was, only this time...he counted on it.
The sheer number of monoliths and their particle whips will offer an impassable gauntlet out of the palace, while within its bowels wraiths and tomb stalkers would haunt the shadows. In truth he had gambled with this assault, gathering the entirety of the Necron forces on Maleghra and diverting it at this very spot. Countless more of his soldiers will be destroyed in the coming hours, but as an Overlord he knew the risks.
Everything was calculated, and he had all the information he needed. A flash of anger sparked behind his eyes as he remembered the brief scene aboard the Shadowlith, all his precautions and schemes to unravel the humans only paled in comparison to what he had to do against his own kin.
The memory of Casa'ravon almost caused his thoughts to flare further, with a flick of his hand a black orb manifested from the air resting in his taloned palm. Its surface was pitched with a steady blue pulse before he banished it to non-existence once again. He needed an edge on all his enemies, and the distress signal was just another weapon in his arsenal. It was almost surprising, that a simple S.O.S in the right hands could be a deadly weapon.
The humans would believe in hope; they will rally around their generals to wait out the storm until deliverance. Just one more minute, one more enemy to kill, one more life to save before help arrives. They would say to themselves before dying. He didn't need any psychic gifts to know their thoughts. As for the Cryptek he was a crafty one.
The type who only needed one eye to plot the course of stars across the galaxy. Against that kind of mind, the unsettling feeling of a superior intellect was enough to keep him in place.
A mechanical chuckle escaped from his metal throat. The signal, outbound reaching for space. To the humans it had reached help in the neighbouring sector, to his cryptek it had been intercepted without his knowledge.
That was the Overlords power, an elemental understanding of the living and dead. A complex mind that knew you more than you know yourself.
With a thought burst the barge swerved into ecstatic life. Its repulsor engines shrieking as it cut through the air, in and between the spires, walkways and perilous platforms. Traversing through the lower battlefield Khaoron reached the higher battlements where humans scurried about.
As the barge dived down again he knew for certainty that the destroyer cults where in place, ready to pounce and begin the harvest of lambs.
