Chapter 3
After the Primarch had descended into the underground fortress, Father Ruban went up to one of the Iron Warriors. "You were there when the God-Emperor began his Great Crusade, My Lord?"
The Iron Warrior looked down at the Priest. "I am not a Lord and he was not a God. Just the Master of Mankind. But yes, I was there when he came to Olympia."
"What... did he look like?"
The Iron Warrior seemed to be contemplating underneath his Mark III helm. "Blinding. I do not know what the Primarch saw, but it is said he looked different for each of his sons. Perturabo saw him as a great leader. One he wished to be like." The Iron Warrior turned to Ruban. "Why do you worship him? It goes against everything he had us fight for. We fought for an Empire of reason and sense. Now, from what we have gleamed from transmissions intercepted, it has become an Imperium of madness and chaos."
"Such a belief would be called heretical."
"So I am just as much a heretic to you as my fallen brothers?"
Ruban considered this. "Not as such. You are from a different age. This age is all I know. As for why I worship him... It is because he is a symbol of hope to us. One who guides us through the Warp and has blessed us with the return of his sons. Even in this new age of darkness and strife, it is the belief in him that has helped us through. Even with all that has happened, I have hope that things may turn out for the best."
The Iron Warrior laughed, his voice distorted by the vox making it come out as a deep rumble. "Hope is something we learned to disregard during the Heresy. We had hope for a better future and we were betrayed by our father. We were made to fight our own brothers inside and outside of the Legion. Hope died when Horus betrayed us all."
Ruban sighed. "I can understand that, my friend. My ancestor fought during the Heresy. According to our family records, he went through much in the way of trial and tribulation. He was even banished from his master's sight for harboring what were considered heretical beliefs at the time. Belief that the Emperor was a God. He survived his mission of death and managed to continue our bloodline. I believe things can work out."
"You call me friend, but you don't even know my name."
Ruban smiled. "Then let us change that. My name is Ruban Valerius. Yours?"
The Iron Warrior stood up. "I am Brother Sergeant Toledo." He was about to continue when a bright light flashed in the sky. All present turned to look up in the sky and saw a familiar sight. All present knew what that was. The sign of void battle in the upper atmosphere.
The Shadow of the Emperor, having been equipped with an experimental new Reflex Shield, was able to spot the signs of a cloaked ship and was able to raise shields just as the Battle Barge, which they identified as The Fire of Olympia, opened fire with void cannons. While the Reflex Shield may have been good at protecting from long range auger tracking, it didn't prevent one from seeing a gigantic Battle Barge outside of the bridge. The Shadow of the Emperor turned just enough to let the cannon blast glance off the side. The bridge shook as Shipmaster Somanova clutched at her control throne. "Return fire, damn it!" Cannons fired upon The Fire of Olympia as the two ships did battle above Istvaan V.
"We have to make sure they do not open fire upon the Primarch and his forces on the surface. Prepare fighters for deployment!"
It would be difficult for them to send help down to the surface while The Fire of Olympia was in orbit. For now, the priority was to stay alive and Somanova was not going to lose the ship. It had been made specifically for the Primarch under the orders of Belisarius Cawl himself. She had been handpicked by the Primarch himself. She would not fail him.
"Void Shield status," she called to an Ensign.
"Shields holding, Shipmaster," the Ensign replied over the loud BOOMS of the cannon-shell impacted on the shields. "But their guns are starting to break down our defenses. And I think they know it too."
Somanova looked out the viewport of the bridge to see that The Fire of Olympia was charging its forward lances in preparation to fire.
"Keep them away from the engines. Open up all broadside batteries and target their lance turrets. It may be of the same make, but this is far more advanced than that ancient relic trying to kill us."
As the fighters launched, The Shadow of the Emperor opened batteries upon the Chaos Battle Barge. Unfortunately, it did not penetrate the shields. She cursed under her breath. As she looked upon The Fire of Olympia, she realized just what she was looking at. It was history itself. History from a time long gone. It was like the ship was rusted down to the inner hull. It had lost the luster of its former life as a vessel of the ancient Imperium and was covered in blasphemous script, as if a giant hand had reached out to scratch into its hull. Only the name retained the silver gleam of its former life. As she glanced at the script on the front of the Barge, she almost vomited at the sight of it. She closed her eyes and prayed to the Emperor, clutching at the Golden Aquila around her neck. "The Emperor Protects," she whispered.
Onboard The Fire of Olympia, Toramino grinned as he played with his lock of white hair, his golden eyes gleaming with homicidal glee. He'd missed this, toying with the dogs of the Corpse Emperor. It reminded him of the glorious days of the Great Heresy. And now he was back where the war had begun for the Iron Warriors with Corvus Corax at his mercy. He would tear Corax to pieces, find Perturabo, and present his brother's head to him. Then he would be his right hand as he should have been 10,000 years ago instead of that pathetic berzerker Kroeger. No more of this... Trident nonsense. He would be his only subordinate. He alone would stand by his Primarch's side as his one true Warsmith. All he needed to do first was to kill this ship and then send his Stor-Bezashk to wipe out what forces Corax had with him. Then he would tear Corax's head from his shoulders and be done with it. He turned to Voltan and smiled. "Prepare the Drop Pods. We will have the Primarch dead within the hour."
Voltan bowed. "At once, Warsmith."
Toramino turned back to the viewport. "As soon as their shields are down, fire the lances. We will tear that ship apart."
A slave spoke up. "Master, the Imperial ship has launched fighters. They are targeting the lance turrets."
Toramino rolled his eyes, blasted the slave apart, and motioned for the remains to be removed and replaced with another. "Then shoot them down and get on with blasting that ship. I have a schedule to keep with my Primarch!"
Below the planet's surface, Corax deactivated the vox and turned to Ingoldt. "That ship wouldn't happen to be yours, would it?"
Ingoldt shook his head. "No. Our ship was destroyed long ago. This must be one that followed you."
Corax believed the Captain and turned away. "I must join my men on the surface."
"NO, PRIMARCH," Tarrasch rumbled. "HAVE THEM ALL BROUGHT DOWN HERE. THIS IS A SIEGE THAT WE HAVE LONG PREPARED FOR! NOW YOU WILL SEE HOW IRON WARRIORS MAKE WAR!"
It took a while, but eventually all Imperial Guard personnel and Astartes had been brought down to the fortress. In what looked like an immense shrine dedicated to the Emperor and a robed being carrying scrolls and a hammer, represented as two immense statues standing back to back, the forces of the Imperium gathered together, awaiting the word of the Primarch. Corax looked up at the statues, squinting at the statue of the scholar. "Who is that supposed to be," he asked Ingoldt.
"Perturabo. Our Primarch as he should have been. As he could have been. An architect of a great and wondrous future with the Emperor."
"An architect," Corax scoffed. "Perturabo was a butcher. A destroyer of worlds. You don't know how many worlds he brought to ruin in the name of compliance!"
"I was there, Lord Corax. I knew the things he had us do in the name of compliance. But I also know that he was a great builder of many things. He created works of architectural art that would have graced Terra itself. The Thaliakron where Magnus the Red was censured on Nikea was meant as a place where tales of great heroes would be told and where the Great Crusade would be remembered for all time. Not as a place of humiliation and damnation. We dedicated this shrine to the Emperor and the Perturabo that should have been."
Corax scowled. "What could have been matters not. What he did and what he became are what matters. The monster my brother became damned the Imperium. Him and all the rest."
Ingoldt removed his helm and stared up at the Primarch with his tired old eyes. "I know, my lord. I was there when our Legion was declared for the Warmaster by traitor lips. You do not have to remind me."
Corax turned to Brahms who saluted him. "My Lord, they await your word."
Corax raised an eyebrow. "My word?"
"You are the Primarch. The son of the God-Emperor. You are the reason they believe they will survive this planetary graveyard." Her second-in-command, Colonel Pellox, stood behind her, gripping her lasrifle. Behind her stood the Astartes Captains, awaiting their Primarch's word. Corax nodded. "Indeed. It is time we prepared for battle."
He walked to the front of the shrine and stood in front of the congregation of warriors. He raised both hands for silence. All fell still as the Primarch of the Raven Guard addressed them. "Sons and daughters of the Imperium. A ship of traitors is above us, preparing to bombard us out of existence. For the second time, the Raven Guard, the Salamanders, and the Iron Hands, stand in danger of attack from the same enemy that betrayed us during the Horus Heresy. But this time, we will not be caught unawares. We will drive them back and destroy the traitors once and for all! I am Corvus Corax. You all know who I am already. But what you may not know is that I stood against tyrants long ago on my homeworld of Deliverance. I cast them from the moon and renamed it in honor of the act of freedom of those that took me in as a member of their family. I will bring you that same deliverance from the Iron Warriors. And I will be by your side through it all. I will stand by you as we destroy the Traitor and the Heretic! Will you stand with me?"
"YES," came the response from the crowd.
"This planet is the gravesite of thousands of great warriors! The Iron Warriors profane it with their footsteps. These bastards were present when the Drop Site Massacre was committed. They laughed as they butchered those they once called brothers. They deserve nothing less than our scorn! Our hatred! Hate the Traitor! Hate them! Make them pay for every son of Medusa, Nocturne, and Deliverance they slaughtered! ARE YOU WITH ME?"
A cheer rose from the crowd and cries of "CORAX! CORAX! CORAX!" could be heard. Kadus stepped forward and knelt to his Primarch. "My Primaris Raven Guard are at your disposal, Lord Corax. I have trained them well and they are eager to wet their claws in battle."
"As are my Salamanders," Ka'no said in turn. "They are a mixed unit of Firstborn and Primaris and they will bring the fires of vengeance to the Iron Warriors in the name of Vulkan!"
Corax turned to Ferod. He had stayed silent throughout most of it. He was of Clan Raukaan and they were known for using the repressed emotions of the Iron Hands to their advantage. The Iron Hands had always been outliers for the Astartes. He remembered the pride and ego that had been installed in them during the Great Crusade thanks to the power and ferocity of their Primarch. But at the same time, it had been that pride and ferocity that had killed Ferrus Manus as much as it had been Fulgrim's blade. He looked Ferod in the eye and asked a simple question. "Are you with me, Son of Ferrus?"
Ferod looked at the Iron Warriors in their Mark III power armor and back at the Primarch. "I will never trust any son of Perturabo. But I can put aside my hatred for the betterment of the Imperium and the future of my Chapter. For the chance to make my true enemies bleed, I will work with them. And I will fight by your side, Lord Corax." He knelt before Corax.
Corax turned to Brahms and Ruban. "The Therion Cohort have long awaited the chance to fight alongside you again, Lord Corax. It would be an honor," The Praefactor said. Both made the Sign of the Aquila and turned to address the Imperial Guard.
"My Lord, do you have a plan of attack," Captain Ingoldt asked.
Corax smiled at the Iron Warrior renegade. "How powerful are the weapons your fortress is equipped with?"
"Very powerful, My Lord. We have lascannons, autoguns, missile launchers, mines, anything you wish for, we have equipped."
"Enough to handle Iron Warrior Armour? And how far do they spread?"
"Yes. As long as we have the element of surprise, we should be able to cut down a sizable number of their forces once they make planetfall. And this base spreads out beyond the Urgall Depression.."
Kadus chimed in. "But if their ship is in battle with ours, they may either die in orbit or they will kill ours and we will be stranded here."
"And all here would rather die than pilot a ship tainted by Chaos," Ka'no said. "By the time we returned to the Imperium, we would be turned to the service of the Four and all we fought for would be for nothing."
"Then we must make sure the ship is no longer there." Corax turned on his vox. "Shipmaster Somanova, this is Corvus Corax. Do you read me?"
"I read you, Primarch. We are currently in battle with the enemy and we have a chance to end it-"
"I order you to retreat. Move away from the planet until I send for you. If you do not hear from me in three days, return to the Imperium and tell Regent Vulkan what has happened. Do not question me. This is a direct order."
For a moment, there was nothing. Then a response came. "I understand you, Lord Corax. Fight well in the name of the Emperor. Shipmaster Somanova out."
The vox went silent and Corax turned to his warriors. "Prepare for battle. The traitors will be here soon."
In orbit, Toramino observed The Shadow of the Emperor making its retreat from the planet. "Master, shall we open fire?"
Toramino shook his head, a smirk on his lips. "No. Let it go. I know that the Primarch is not aboard that ship and I will not waste more time just to satisfy my blood lust." I am better than Kroeger. I am a true Warsmith. I am a true Olympian noble. He turned to Voltan. "Prepare for battle. Prepare the Armour and the Stor-Bezashk. We have our window of opportunity. Begin the assault!"
On the surface of Istvaan V, Corvus Corax stood alone, watching the sky. In his hand, he held the white Corvus Pattern helm that he'd worn long ago on this very planet. "Come on... Attack me, you bastards. I am right here." Then he saw the Drop Pods and Drop Ships coming from the cloudbanks. They made landing on the other side of the Depression and began to set up their siege weaponry. Corvus smiled. Like clockwork, the Iron Warriors were efficient. He spied their power armor and noted the differences between them and their brothers down below. Their armor was perverted. Horned helms with bright red eye lenses and spiked pauldrons with backpacks that were as old as the Imperium itself. Complete silver-gray coloring with black and yellow striping, the one thing that had not changed for them since the Horus Heresy, the Iron Warriors were the very image of war in all its brutality.
"Now it is time for that image to be tarnished."
He placed the helm on and activated the speaker. "I AM CORVUS CORAX, PRIMARCH OF THE RAVEN GUARD! 10,000 YEARS AGO, YOU SLAUGHTERED MY SONS ON THIS VERY SOIL! I CAME HERE TO GIVE THEM PEACE! YOUR RETURN DISTURBS THAT PEACE! NONE OF YOU WILL LEAVE THIS PLANET ALIVE! YOU WILL PAY FOR THE CRIMES YOU COMMITTED HERE! COME AND GET ME, YOU COWARDLY BASTARDS!"
Corax zoomed in on one of them wearing the markings of a Captain. He pointed at him. "YOU! WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"
The Iron Warrior stepped forward and activated his helm's vox emitter. "I AM CAPTAIN VOLTAN! RIGHT HAND OF THE WARSMITH OF THE STOR-BEZASHK TORAMINO! WHERE IS YOUR ARMY, PRIMARCH OF THE RAVEN GUARD?"
"NOT HERE, BUT THEY WILL BE HERE SOON TO SLAUGHTER ALL OF YOU! NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU BEG OR SCREAM FOR MERCY, I PROMISE THAT YOUR DEATH IN PARTICULAR WILL BE SLOW! BUT NOT AS SLOW AS THAT OF YOUR WARSMITH!" He smiled as he recalled that name. "TORAMINO, WAS IT? I KNOW HIM OF OLD! A COWARD THAT PREFERRED TO SIT BACK WHILE HIS SOLDIERS DIED FOR HIM! WHERE IS HE NOW? WATCHING FROM ABOVE WHILE YOU DIE FOR HIM? TYPICAL!" He looked up to the sky. "DO YOU HEAR ME, TORAMINO? I CALL YOU COWARD! COME AND DIE WITH THE REST OF YOUR MEN!" He knew that Toramino could not hear him, but it was more for the sake of his minions. He looked back at Voltan. "COME TO ME, VOLTAN! COME AND DIE LIKE THE COWARDLY BULLIES YOU ARE! I SLAUGHTERED YOUR LIKE ON DELIVERANCE AND I WILL SLAUGHTER YOU ALL NOW! COME TO ME!"
Voltan laughed and seemed to turn the vox to a private channel. Corax did the same. "We do not need to come to you. As it turns out, you are in perfect range of our tanks. Goodbye, Primarch of the Raven Guard. You will pay for that insult to my Warsmith." He cut off the vox and motioned for his tanks to move into position. Corax smiled. Just as he'd hoped. Just like the Iron Warriors of his day.
He spoke into his vox. "Ingoldt, upon my signal, unleash Hell."
He did not wait for the confirmation and shut off the vox. The tanks lined up and raised their barrels upwards. "Three... two... one..." He turned on the vox. "Now!"
Up from the hill leading down into the depression and the ground around the tanks, turrets rose and took aim at the tanks. Missiles, lasfire, and autogun shells blasted the Stor-Bezashk and their tanks. Corax watched in satisfaction as the tanks exploded, causing shrapnel to pepper the Iron Warriors and their human slave soldiers. The humans died while most of the Iron Warriors only escaped with minor injuries, though casualties were thankfully among their number as well.
"Captain Ingoldt, begin your ascension."
Down in the depression Corax, three hundred Iron Warriors lead by Captain Ingoldt rose up out of the ground. The Iron Warriors slammed their fists against their chests in salute. Ingoldt voxed Corvus. "Who is in charge?"
"If he is still alive after that assault, a Captain named Voltan. He serves Warsmith Toramino of the Stor-Bezashk."
Ingoldt gave a snorting sound that Corvus interpreted as a laugh. "Voltan a Captain? He was a mere line officer the last I heard. And Toramino, I know him of old. A coward and a fool that lets his men die for him."
"Yes, I let Voltan know exactly what I thought of his master. Now that his siege weaponry has been taken care of, he will have no choice but to throw his men at us. Now to make them understand what it feels like to be slaughtered en masse. Begin the assault."
Corax raised his power whip. "FOR THE EMPEROR!" Ingoldt echoed the charge and motioned for his Battle Brothers to assume battle formations. All three hundred Iron Warriors assumed battle formation in ten rows of thirty with a row of riot shield wielding warriors in front. Ingoldt smiled beneath his helm. This was what they were made for.
As the enemy charged in their distorted and perverted MK III plate, Ingoldt thought back to the words of the IVth Legion. They were words that had inspired them all to be the best they could be for their Primarch and for the Emperor. They were words that he would believe in until the day he died. He opened up a private vox to his men and spoke the words.
"From iron cometh strength. From strength cometh will. From will cometh faith. From faith cometh honor. From honor... cometh iron. This is the Unbreakable Litany, my brothers. May it forever be so."
As one, the three hundred Iron Warriors, the Ghosts of Istvaan V, the Sons of Dantioch, spoke the final words of the Litany that had been purged from the Legion when Perturabo had turned on the Imperium. They were the most important as they spurred on the Iron Warriors to sell their lives in the destruction of their treacherous brothers. "Dominum imperator ac ferrum aeturnum."
The Stor-Bezashk, wielding bolter and chain weapons, smashed into the front lines, roaring as they pushed and fired against those they once called brothers. The riot shields were able to deflect most of the blasts, though a few of the defending Warriors were killed by the explosion. Ingoldt stood right behind them, his hands on his brothers' shoulders as he cried for them to hold the line. "PUSH! PUSH, BROTHERS!" The defenders fired through the gaps, killing or wounding as many as they could. The attackers, in turn, fired or stabbed through the gaps, adding more to the loyalist death toll.
Ingoldt knew this was just a delaying tactic. Even with the losses they took above the ridge, the Stor-Bezashk still outnumbered them and had the advantage of Chaos fueled strength. The Ghosts were old, older than most normal Space Marines and they were starting to feel their age after millennia in frozen slumber. They would not win alone. Ingoldt turned his head briefly to look upon the Primarch as he watched them from above. "We will prove ourselves loyal to the bitter end," Ingoldt thought.
His vox crackled to life. It was Corax broadcasting on an open frequency. It was time.
"NOW!"
From below, the Raven Guard emerged from behind the Iron Warriors line. Their blades out, they plunged them into the gaps in the Traitors' armor and fell back as the Traitors clutched at their throats as they bled out. Kadus stepped forward with a group of Primaris Ravens and fired their bolters into the fallen Traitors and those at the back. Ingoldt smiled. "PUSH," he roared and the Iron Warriors moved forward, shoving the now off guard Traitors back and resumed a defensive stance.
The Raven Guard fell back below and on both sides of the Traitors came the Salamanders, flamers at the ready. Ka'no gave the order to unleash the fires of Nocturne on the Traitors and the flames came belching forth as the Traitors cried out in pain as they burned. Many fell as they were cooked alive in their armor, others turned their weapons on the Salamanders who gave the signal to be brought back below. The Traitor leader Voltan cried out in frustration as their weapons hit nothing but empty air. The attack did not cease.
From above the rim, the Therion Cohort aimed their lasguns and heavy weaponry at the Traitors and opened fire, pinning them in place so as to prevent them from spreading out. Brahms smiled as her soldiers acquitted themselves in the eyes of the Primarch. Father Ruban stood beside her, power sword in one hand and a piece of ragged red cloth in the other, his eyes gleaming with pride.
The final strike came as the Iron Hands, lead by Markus Ferod, rose in front of the Traitors and alongside the Loyalists. Ferod growled a single word through his helm as he pointed his power maul at the Traitors. "Kill."
The Iron Hands and the Iron Warriors charged and a slaughter began. The element of surprise had ensured the battle would be in the Imperium's favor as Traitor died upon Loyalist blade. Corvus Corax, tired of watching, swooped down from above and laid into the Traitors with his power whip, slicing through power armor as he meted out millennia of frustration and rage against those that had betrayed them all. This was not justice. This was vengeance and he loved it. He looked for Voltan in the melee and spotted him in the middle. He pointed at him. "BASTARD!"
Voltan turned, his chain-axe revving as he made his stand against the Primarch. Corax lunged at him, twirling his whip above as Voltan swung to intercept it. Corax was faster as his massive hand grabbed the axe by the blade, the teeth churning against his gauntlet before crushing it to bits. Corax glared at Voltan and disengaged his whip. He activated his lightning claws and speared Voltan through the gut. He slowly raised the Stor-Bezashk Captain and brought him so that their faces were inches apart. "This is for my 77,000 sons you and your traitor kin slaughtered here." With his other hand, bleeding from a wound in the palm, he twisted Voltan's head until it was turned all the way around.
Corax let the corpse slide from his claws as he surveyed the battle field. They had won. The Traitor Marines lay dead around them with several Iron Warrior Loyalists among the dead. All told, they had taken few losses compared to the enemy. A cheer arose from the Therion Cohort above them as they began to chant a name. "CORAX! CORAX! CORAX! CORAX!" He watched as the Space Marines around him joined in the cheer. He looked up in the sky from where the Drop Pods had fallen. Toramino was still up there and the fight was still not done.
Toramino had watched on the vid screen as his men died in droves with Voltan being the last to fall. He smashed the screen to pieces and marched off the bridge. Corax would pay. They would all pay. Those backstabbing turncoat Iron Warriors with him would pay. He would lead the second wave himself and he would kill Corax personally. He went deep into the bowels of The Fire of Olympia to a vault that he had his Tech-Priests unlock. He stepped inside to see a Dreadnought in deep slumber. He had found this one soon after his retreat from Khalan-Ghol, a warrior from the days of the Great Heresy. A failure that would redeem himself on the battlefield.
"Warsmith Krendl. Awaken."
Author's Note: FINALLY! I GOT THIS CHAPTER DONE! This was difficult as all hell to do. As you can see, it's not done yet, but I'm getting there. Part four will be the finale and then an epilogue. This was possibly my finest moment in describing a battle and I hope I got the emotions down right for it. Writing out the Unbreakable Litany was something I knew I had to do and having it said just before the battle began was the most appropriate. I have had this exact scenario in my mind since I started writing this and I wanted it to be the perfect bit of payback for what happened on Istvaan V with the former conquerors, sent down by their incompetent leader, dying as a Primarch watched above before joining the fight himself. I plan to have the final battle end with a bang and I will also be giving a small glimpse back 10,000 years ago to give some closure as to what exactly happened to Narik and Cassian. Thanks for reading!