Disclaimer: You know the drill. Neither Code Geass nor Warhammer 40k are mine.

Chapter Twenty: Turning Point

As the siege dragged on, the skies of Altansar played host to a never-ending, macabre meteor shower. Though the Warp storm hindered their movement, the remnants of the Craftworld's space forces mounted a vicious guerilla war against the Chaos fleet. Any ship foolhardy enough to enter low orbit in preparation to land additional troops or bombard Eldar positions was quickly ripped apart. Heavily-damaged ships, debris, and drifting corpses gradually deorbited and burned up in the Craftworld's atmosphere. Though it could not possibly stop every Chaos warship, Altansar's shattered space fleet allowed the counterattack below to continue unmolested.

In spite of casualties great enough to horrify even the most hardened of Imperial commanders, Eldar ground forces continued to press the attack. One hundred fifty thousand lost, out of an original force of nearly eight hundred thousand, at the forests of Gallitias. Four hundred thousand lay dead after repelling the Chaos assault on Ugennea. The killing fields around Sprannano claimed twenty thousand lives in a mere ten hours. The road from Caspeton to Tunnanir was soaked in the blood of nearly one and a half million Eldar. Though each new dawn brought a dozen such casualty reports, the citizens of Altansar refused to see the counteroffensive as anything other than success, for every such report also bought with it news that another few dozen kilometers of their home was cleansed of the Chaos taint.

Faced with the berserk fury that only one whose home was threatened could muster, many a Chaos army broke and ran upon mere sight of advancing Eldar forces. As the counteroffensive continued, it began to fall victim to its own success. Supply lines were stretched thin in the few places they could actually keep pace with the allied advance. All over the front lines, friendly units were cut off and annihilated after they had outrun their support units.

Interrogation Room, Black Knights Frigate Caerleon
017.M51, Day Twelve of the Siege of Altansar

Gunnery Sergeant Erik Graybeal felt unpleasant chills run up his spine as he watched the scene unfold before him. The prisoner thrashed about, struggling in vain against her restraints as the Psychic Special Warfare operative stepped closer, her mouth open in a scream that the armored glass thankfully blocked out. Even the two militiamen guarding the doorway, their features hidden behind expressionless helmets, showed their unease. They nervously fingered their hadron assault rifles, turning their heads almost imperceptibly away from the unfolding scene.

As if a switch were thrown, the prisoner stopped moving, her eyes glassing over and her expression vacating. If anything, it served to further compound Graybeal's unease. Moments later, a wave of psychic pressure—not powerful enough to pose a threat but leaving a mild throbbing in the back of the Gunny Sergeant's skull—broke against his mental barriers. The prisoner ceased struggling and her body went limp, all emotion draining from her face and replaced by a vacant stare.

For the second time in so many days, Erik found himself thankful that the Psychic Special Warfare Department was on his side.

Black Knights 10th OPAW Field Headquarters
Outskirts of Aquova, Surface of Craftworld Altansar

In the beginning, Kallen had led the 10th Orbital Planetary Assault Wing from the front, carving a swath of destruction though Chaos forces with the help of her customized Knightmare. The heavy fighting ground down the Black Knights' numbers, yet demand for their abilities only increased as the siege dragged on. The OPAW's already stretched-thin ranks began drifting apart, the troopers scattered among the numerous battlefields dotting the Craftworld. Reluctantly, Kallen retired from the battlefield and established a field headquarters.

From the outside, the 10th OPAW's forward command center didn't look like much. Located in the bombed-out husk of a restaurant on the outskirts of Aquova, it nonetheless possessed a commanding view of the surrounding terrain. Communications equipment and personnel flown down from the Caerleon and a constant orbital uplink with the aforementioned destroyer allowed Kallen to coordinate Black Knights combat operations throughout the Craftworld.

News of Espevar spread quickly, and allied morale plummeted. Hearing of a single OPAW trooper fall was one thing, but news that an entire squad lay dead in the city streets was a whole different beast. It hardly mattered that they had perished while fighting the metal monster that was an Imperial Baneblade.

"Message from the forces at Espevar: search efforts continue, but they don't expect to find anything more. All but one body currently accounted for."

Kallen dismissed her personal holographic heads-up display and looked the militia trooper straight in the eye pieces.

"Do we have any more information?"

"Yes ma'am," the communications officer nodded, "According to the squad roster, the unaccounted-for body is that of a Corporal Loraine Heiber. According from the data salvaged from the recovered Knightmares, she was last seen attempting to engage the Baneblade moments before the airstrike hit."

Though part of her was concerned about recovering the Corporal's remains so that they could receive a proper burial, Kallen was currently far more worried about the missing trooper's Knightmare. The advanced powered armor suits were one of the Black Knights' greatest trump cards, and one did not need a genius-level intellect to see what could happen should one fall into Chaos hands.

"Could she possibly have been caught in the FLEIJA blast?"

"The techs haven't completely ruled that possibility out yet," the communications officer admitted, "But the likelihood of such an event remains low. They're also exploring the possibility that the Corporal's Knightmare managed to self-destruct, but current evidence indicates otherwise."

"Keep me posted."

"Yes ma'am."

Interrogation Room
Black Knights Destroyer Caerleon

Psychic Special Warfare operative Johann Nathan took another step towards the thrashing Chaos commander, his mind reaching out and subtly manipulating her synapses. Within seconds, the struggling stopped and her body went slack, held up only by the restraints. All emotion drained off the woman's face and she stared vacantly ahead, mouth hung slightly open. The operative looked into her glazed-over eyes, the sigils in his glowing brighter than before.

"Now…" the operative said to nobody in particular, "I wonder what your name is."

Had the scene occurred in an entertainment holo, a projection of the sigil would have flown from the operative's eyes and flapped towards his victim's. Generations of psychic special warfare operatives were left scratching their heads and shrugging their shoulders regarding the ludicrously widespread misconception's origins. The reality proved significantly more mundane: the sigils in Johann's eyes flashed momentarily, and a thin ring of red appeared around the prisoner's irises.

Even after intense instruction on the use of his unique ability, Johann nearly passed out as the hurricane of information buffeted his mind. He closed his eyes and forced deep breaths into his lungs, gradually slowing the whirlwind and bringing it under control. Feeling his way around the woman's mind, he sifted through the strands of thought and knowledge until he grasped what he wanted. Taking another deep breath and exhaling slowly, he returned to reality.

"Delo, huh?" Johann paused, as if waiting for the catatonic woman to respond, "Well, now, Delo, I wonder what you know about the makeup of the Chaos forces attacking Altansar."

Once again, the operative plunged into the tempest.

Central Pavilion, Manesus
Surface of Craftworld Altansar

Edelion's stomach growled and his throat burned, even his saliva having dried up hours ago. He ignored the pain and continued scanning the city streets below, his Shuriken Catapult propped up on the windowsill. He nearly jumped out of his armor when he felt a hand tap him on the shoulder. He whirled around, one arm raised to block his face while the other lashed out to attack. The Guardian was greeted with the sight of one of his comrades with a proffered water canteen, and he stopped his attack mid-swing and awkwardly lowered his arms. He gratefully accepted the canteen and took a swig, taking extra care to not spill a single drop. A small measure of strength returned to Edelion's limbs.

Chaos forces broke out of their initial landing zones with great violence, sending the defenders on a disorganized retreat that left them scattered across hundreds of square kilometers. Many of the survivors were relentlessly chased, hunted down, and killed over the next few days. Edelion was one of the lucky ones, having stumbled upon a force of Guardians making their way towards Manesus. Though they had no support weapons, no armored support, and few supplies, they decided to stand their ground in the city and await relief forces. That was seven days ago.

Utilizing the city's extensive network of back alleys and sewers, Edelion and his fellow Guardians waged a painful guerilla war on the Chaos forces hoping to take Manesus. A more scientifically-minded member of the defending force had even concocted improvised firebombs so that they would stand a small chance against enemy armor. Yet, the dwindling supplies and the sheer weight of enemy numbers slowly took their toll. Day and night, Fulgrim's forces bombed and shelled Manesus in hopes of flushing the defenders of their hiding spots. What began as a force of two hundred Guardians lurking around the city gradually turned into thirty bunkering down in a pair of hastily-fortified buildings in the city center.

"We've got incoming: two high-speed contacts flying low through the streets!"

Edelion threw to the floor and grabbed his Shuriken Catapult, hurriedly performing some last-minute checks on the weapon before cautiously rising into a kneeling position. His comrade crawled along the floor towards a neighboring window and slowly wriggled up into a leaning position. He tilted his head slightly, just barely allowing the cameras in his helmet a clear view of the outside. Edelion gripped his weapon tighter as his companion stuck the barrel of his Shuriken Catapult beyond the window frame and opened fire.

Edelion peeked out above the barricade, and his heart stopped as a metal form filled a window frame. Easily as large as the Traitor Astartes they had spotted with the last wave of Chaos attackers, but clearly utilizing different technology. The Eldar Guardian let out an undignified howl as he threw himself backwards, firing his Shuriken Catapult as fast as he could pull the trigger. His companion took a few steps backwards and began blindly pumping shurikens into the window. Edelion's eyes widened as several of the monomolecular discs glanced off the enemy's armor while others scratched the surface but failed to penetrate.

"Everyone, cease firing! We just got a message from the main army! They're friendlies! They're those Black Knights we've been hearing so much about!"

Edelion sheepishly lowered his weapon and awkwardly accepted the Orbital Planetary Assault Wing trooper's proffered hand.

"Approximately fifteen hours ago, a detachment of twenty thousand Guardians and Aspect Warriors under Exarch Anduah broke off from the main force at Mytuanias and began rapid-marching towards Manesus. When we left, they were here," the Knightmare jabbed at an area on the map a handful of kilometers outside city limits.

"Chaos forces in this region have diverted most of their fighting strength to stop Anduah's force, but they are steadily advancing and should arrive within the next twelve hours. The enemy has realized the Exarch's objective and is force-marching its remaining forces here."

"And what is their fighting strength?" asked Legihl, the de facto leader of Manesus' defenses through virtue of seniority.

"Between seven and nine thousand infantry, some one hundred tanks and assorted armored vehicles, and aerial support," the OPAW trooper reeled off matter-of-factly.

A few of the Guardians slumped slightly in their seats but otherwise hid their despair admirably well.

"Unfortunately, the rest of my unit is occupied at other fronts," the trooper carefully avoided any mention of Espevar, "so the two of us is all you've got. Exarch Anduah has also sent whatever weapons and supplies she can spare."

Spirits lifted noticeably when the OPAW trooper strode off to the crate he had carried in and broke the seals. In response to several Guardian squads' creative repurposing of Dire Avenger Suriken Catapults as mobile squad support weapons, Anduah had included a number of them in the supply shipment, along with several Fusion Guns and Shuriken Catapults. More importantly, the crate was crammed full of ration bars and water containers.

"Perhaps we'll actually make it out of this alive," Edelion muttered to himself.

Interrogation Room
Black Knights Destroyer Caerleon

Johann emerged from the maelstrom once again, shaken but still standing. He glanced at the wall-mounted chronometer to regain his bearings. It came as little surprise that several hours had already passed. The first mental probe was meant to do little more than probe the enemy's defenses, skimming a few surface thoughts in search of a trivial bit of information. Seeking information of actual use, namely whatever Delo knew about Abaddon's troops, required diving much deeper and facing correspondingly tougher defenses.

The Psychic Special Warfare operative was both surprised and dismayed to find that Delo had remained sufficiently lucid to put up some basic defenses. Not only had she buried any information of actual military value deep into her psyche, she had also deeply intertwined them with irrelevant memories: old Imperial Guard ciphers, childhood memories, five hundred games one could play with a mess tin. The task of unraveling the latter had proven fairly easy, but highly tedious. Infuriatingly, what information he could retrieve was largely composed of vague impressions rather than concrete facts. Only one piece of solid information was neither blindingly obvious nor already known to Intelligence: the leader of the invasion for was the Daemon Primarch Fulgrim. An interesting development, he had to admit, but hardly world-shattering. If nothing else, it would narrow down future searches.

Stretching out his cramped limbs and sore muscles, Johann looked Delo in the eye once again, the sigils in his eyes reappearing.

"Now, I wonder what you know about Fulgrim's battle plans."

Central Pavilion, Manesus
Surface of Craftworld Altansar

"I think I see something…" one of the Guardians on the roof announced.

Private Allie Knuth's hands were too large to use the proffered binocs, and she already had something just as good—if not better—built into her helmet already. Her companion, a Guardian by the name of Edelion, made the same realization a few seconds too late. As the Eldar awkwardly withdrew the binocs, Allie bought up her Knightmare's visual enhancement suite and began zooming in on the designated sector. Unlike what entertainment holos seemed so fond of showing, she couldn't zoom in far enough to make out individual unit patches, but she could make out individual infantrymen.

"I see them. Looks like a hundred infantry and a Leman Russ tank in support, with another two hundred and five Chimaeras not far behind. They're probably going to come in through the main street."

Outskirts of Manesus
Surface of Craftworld Altansar

"Steady…here they come…"

Isaredaol patted his companion on the back with all the reassurance he didn't feel. It seemed to work, at least, and the other Guardian loosened his death-grip on the Dire Avenger Shuriken Catapult. The roar of the Leman Russ' engines drew closer, as did the footfalls of a hundred Chaos soldiers. Isaredaol signaled his counterpart on the opposite rooftop. The other Guardian signaled back, Fusion Gun at the ready, and disappeared into the building.

"Steady…"

The Leman Russ' rumbling altered in pitch as the war machine entered the streets of Manesus.

"This is Ralaratg. I'm in position."

"Fire! Take out that Leman Russ!"

A miniature sun slammed into the vulnerable flank armor of the Chaos battle tank, piercing straight through the thin plasteel and cooking the crew. The backwash from the blast vaporized several of the infantry clustered around the vehicle, and the survivors scattered as the Leman Russ ground to a halt. The tank burst into flame, then exploded when a second Fusion Gun blast detonated its ammunition rack.

"Fire!"

Isaredaol and his companion sprang up to their feet, pouring shurikens into the city streets below as the surviving enemy soldiers scattered in search of cover. Several ducked into a destroyed storefront and dove behind the counter, muttering praises to whatever twisted powers they worshipped. A few cut-off screams identified the building as the same one the tank hunter team had taken shelter in.

"Second wave incoming!"

A storm of lasfire forced the defenders' heads down as enemy reinforcements poured into the city streets. A lucky lasbolt caught Isaredaol's companion in the neck, and the Eldar collapsed to his knees, gurgling and clutching his throat. The surviving Guardian grabbed his dead companion's soulstone and weapon and leapt onto the adjacent rooftop just as a heavy bolter shredded the makeshift rooftop fortification. More bolt rounds detonated harmlessly against the walls as Isaredaol set up the Dire Avenger Shuriken Catapult and began filling the streets below with monomolecular discs.

He lasted only a few seconds until the enemy gunners gave up on trying to kill him and simply bought the entire building down with a missile.

"Chimaera incoming!"

The three Guardians on the street below averted their gaze as the Fusion Gun fired, the glob of superheated plasma starting several small fires as it streaked out of the storefront and slammed into the Chimaera's flank. The blast melted a sizable chunk of the vehicle's skirt armor and, more importantly, fused part of its tracks together. The cooling metal sagged and pulled apart, and the armored transport veered off the road and slammed into a nearby building. The tank hunter team tensed and prepared to run as the crippled vehicle's turret slowly turned around to face them as it dropped the deployment ramp. A second Fusion Gun blast cooked the Chimaera's passengers and its crew, and one of the Guardians lobbed a plasma grenade into the partially-open troop compartment just to make sure.

The shuriken fire from above slackened then stopped entirely, allowing the Chaos soldiers to approach the ruined storefront virtually unmolested. The tank hunter team opened fire with their Shuriken Catapults, but the deadly monomolecular discs were lost amidst the wall of lasbolts the Chaos soldiers sent at the Eldar. One of the Guardians went down, a hail of lasbolts perforating his chest. The other two didn't even have an opportunity to fight back: another Chimaera rolled in front of the building and flooded it with promethium.

Interrogation Room, Black Knights Destroyer Caerleon
Five Hours Later

Erik breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the operative emerge from his trance and hurriedly stretch out some tired muscles. The militiaman signaled the Knightmares flanking the door as the operative turned around and gestured that he wanted to leave. Whatever small measure of relief Erik felt upon realizing that the operative his finished his unpleasant work for the time being disappeared when he got a close look at the man's face. The man was pale and practically shaking in fear.

Gunnery Sergeant Erik Graybeal wasn't the most knowledgeable about the Psychic Special Warfare Department. However, he had served long enough to know that its operatives were made of fairly stern stuff. They had to be: how else would they regularly endure the kinds of horrors others generally faced only when things went terribly wrong? What could actually scare a Psychic Special Warfare operative so badly was a question Erik would rather not know the answer to.

"Get me a line to General Kozuki," the operative shakily demanded, "Don't take no for an answer! If they refuse, tell them that Altansar lives or dies depending on what is done in the next twenty-four hours!"

Central Pavilion, Manesus
Surface of Craftworld Altansar

Though the barrel was already glowing red-hot, Edelion squeezed off another shot with the Fusion Gun as soon as it recharged. Even though the air rapidly robbed it of its destructive punch, the bolt of superheated plasma punched through the Leman Russ' thin top armor and cooked off the tank's remaining shells. A particularly wicked-looking piece of shrapnel pierced the wall mere centimeters from where the Guardian stood. A gratifying number of the Chaos infantry that had clustered around the tank for support were reduced to a shower of blood and gore.

"There's still more coming!"

A distinctive pink flash engulfed one of the approaching Chimaeras and left a smooth crater in the ground, almost as if somebody had simply scooped out some of the pavement. The Chimaera just behind it was wreathed in flames as the Guardians lobbed firebombs onto it from the windows above. Several of the infantry screamed and scattered, their clothing set ablaze. Many had their suffering cut short by the thousands of shurikens pouring in the streets from above.

"Somebody stop that Chimaera!"

"I'm all out of FLEIJAs!" Allie announced, stowing her launcher and drawing her machine gun.

Edelion swung the Fusion Gun around and lined the Chimaera up in his sights. He took a deep breath to steady his heartbeat and pulled the trigger. The Guardian's much-abused weapon finally gave out, its barrel melting into a useless chunk of wraithbone. Edelion tossed the weapon aside and grabbed his Shuriken Catapult, contributing to the truly impressive volume of firepower pouring into the street below while tracking his plasma bolt with hopeful eyes. The miniature newborn star streaked towards the Chimaera and slammed into its roof. The comparatively-thin armor visibly glowed and sagged for several seconds, but ultimately held.

Allie whirled around and unleashed a storm of hadron bolts onto the armored vehicle, but it did little good. The Guardian tried to block out the screams of his doomed comrades as the Chimaera flooded the lower floors of the opposite building with burning promethium. The stream of flame slowly worked its way up the building, stopping only when a lucky firebomb ignited the vehicle's promethium tank.

"More armored vehicles coming down the street!"

"Our last Fusion Gun just melted!"

Streams of heavy bolter fire tore through the building below Edelion's feet, shredding through whatever few Guardians remained. The shurikens that made up their return fire bounced uselessly off the vehicles' hulls, serving only to highlight the shooters' positions to the enemy gunners. The hadron bolts punched through the armor of the lighter vehicles, albeit with difficulty, but could not inflict enough damage to knock them out quickly. Against the more heavily-armored vehicles, they proved as effective as throwing rocks.

"Another armored column incoming from south end! Looks like four Leman Russ tanks and six Chimaeras with roughly four hundred infantry in support!"

The aforementioned armored column disappeared in a series of pink flashes, causing all those fighting—Chaos, Eldar, and Black Knights alike—to glance skywards. Particularly sharp-eyed individuals managed to catch a cluster of fast-moving shapes roaring past the battlefield, knocking several Guardians off their feet with the downwash. The shapes doubled around and launched another salvo of FLEIJA warheads while hosing down the city streets with hadron bolts.

Allie looked past the Excalibur squadron, now doubling back for a third attack run, and spotted the ship in low orbit. Confusion overtook all other reaction as—at least the last time Allie checked—the Caerleon was currently several thousand kilometers away aiding Eldar space forces in fighting off a particularly persistent Chaos assault. A quick check of the orbital uplink turned good, albeit confusing, news into better news.

?
Surface of Craftworld Altansar

Loraine Heiber awoke with a start, bolting upright and blindly groping around for her hadron rifle. She calmed down slightly when she confirmed that her Knightmare was still intact and that she wasn't on the streets of Espevar anymore. She switched to night vision and slowly took in her surroundings. A cave of some sort? Thermal vision showed nothing out of the ordinary, and the motion sensor picked up only a few faint readings. The OPAW trooper flipped through the frequencies on her radio and even tried out the orbital uplink for good measure. Neither could establish a connection.

"Calm down," a voice spoke from the doorway, "You're as safe as it gets here."

Loraine whirled around, one hand reaching for a hadron saber despite the promise of safety, and crossed the distance in a fraction of a second. She found herself towering over an Imperial Navy Security Officer, her blade mere centimeters from his neck. The man didn't appear fazed, and the OPAW trooper reasoned that he could have killed her in her sleep if such were his goal. For that matter, if he had wanted to kill her, he could have just as easily left her to die in Espevar. She slowly lowered and stowed her blade.

"Who are you?" she asked cautiously.

"Private Jeffrey Palmer," the man proffered his hand, speaking in a tone that did not suggest that a blade had been pressed up against his throat moments before, "Imperial Navy Security."

Black Knights 10th OPAW Field Headquarters
Outskirts of Aquova, Surface of Craftworld Altansar

"Ma'am, we have confirmation that the Brittia has arrived in orbit! 17th OPAW is currently deploying to assist allied forces in Manesus and to assist the advance at Mytuanias."

A person possessing less personal restraint than General Kallen Kozuki would have let out a cheer. Instead, Kallen acknowledged with a nod and didn't object too hard when her headquarters staff broke out into a brief celebration. The celebratory mood immediately vanished when the transmission from the Caerleon arrived.

"Ma'am," the miniature hologram of a Psychic Special Warfare operative saluted, "I have finished preliminary interrogation of the prisoner. It appears Fulgrim's ultimate objective is Craftworld Altansar's Infinity Circuit."

A/N: First off, a belated Happy Thanksgiving to all my readers!

Secondly, we have our first cameo in this chapter! See if you can spot him!

Thirdly, it has come to my attention that this fanfic has been granted a TVTropes page! ^-^ Shout out to the people who started it! I'd just like to take this time to encourage you guys to check it out and contribute to it if you wish. Seriously, it's a medium outside of reviews that I can use to gauge reader reactions to this story! It's a new and exiting frontier!