The Star Hammer was trading fire with enemy ships, the enemy fleet had cordoned off the approaches to the landing routes that the bulk landers and thunder hawks were taking to escape the surface.
Things had deteriorated for the enemy on the ground. They by estimates supplied by B7782 were in no danger of collapse and he had predicted several more months of high intensity fighting before a victory could be declared, their sudden withdrawal surprised the Super tacticals and they were attempting to discover what had changed their enemy's estimates of the battle so rapidly.
The Star Hammer was pressing the enemy Cruiser hard, the sheer number of turbo laser blasts, while individually weaker than the cruiser's guns were far more numerous, the massive barrages pounding away at the enemy.
"Priority transmission, it bears Lord Fredrick's codes."
"Answer him." HK-217 said, seated in the command chair.
A hologram of Fredrick, his outer shell at least stood nearly life size in the battleship's bridge.
"Ensure that as many ships are destroyed as possible, maximal priority is to be given to destroying transports, we want to ensure that they will not be able to invade Kursk again for some time."
"That will be difficult Lord, we can't fight our past the enemy fleet. We've mostly been posturing with them to avoid damage to the fleet. Even in their bedraggled shape they could do crippling damage to our capital ships."
"You had given me the impression that you had the enemy fleet on the ropes. That while B7782 was destroying their armies on the ground, you were devastating their fleets in orbit. What changed?"
"We underestimated the endurance of their vessels. They still have enough munitions to cause our Lurcehulks damage and the concern of a desperation ram, similar to the one which destroyed the Confederate being employed."
Fredrick paused, he was standing in one of the command centers surrounded by his generals and at the heart of his power, yet something chilled his resolve.
Something in the dark folds of reality was watching him. Assessing from the void.
"Continue operations until they depart, dispatch hyper space probes to begin locating more points of interest and exploring the Hyperlane that Kursk sits in."
Fredrick cut off the transmission and found an empty chair.
It was a strange experience to be confined to his armor. In the past he could easily leave it and enjoy the comforts of a simple officer's uniform. Yet since he had been confined to it in order to survive the effects of a point blank blast from an Inferno Pistol he had not known the touch of another human in months.
He looked at the droids surrounding him carrying out the tasks of his empire and pondered if it was all worth it.
With every seeming gain in power coming at a cost to his own humanity. While sections of the Star Hammer's crew still recalled him before his armor had become his life support, to many of his subjects on Kursk he was the King of Steel, and most thought him simply the supreme droid. Yet underneath the Cortosis, Phrik and Durasteel he was still just as human as he had been before his maiming.
IG-105 placed a hand upon his shoulder.
"Fredrick, melancholy does not become you. Rise, I will prepare the days' reports for you."
Fredrick rose to once again shoulder the burden of Planetary ruler. They would have the time now once Chaos departed to make long lasting improvements and they provided a firm foundation for future expansions of his fiefdom.
He had fanned the fires of their hatred for the Word Bearers, and the imperial foundation of loathing for the arch traitors was all he had needed. Broadcasts of their atrocities were widespread, and droids had brought captured cultists to feel the people's wrath. They had been bonded to him in this conflict, humanity always united behind their leader when an outside threat emerged. Various screens through the Hive depicted droids sheltering and protecting the people of Kursk from chaos troops were common. The circulation of the organic troops in particular was effective at rallying the people to his side. Word of mouth was a potent force. They would follow Fredrick anywhere now.
They would raise new foundries and expand the shipyard. Kursk would be the world where the Confederacy became resurgent.
B7782 had completely encircled the enemy army as it was evacuating. They wouldn't approach the land sites, which were secured with threat of orbital bombardment. Three Lance strikes had convinced B7782 to fall back to areas covered by theater shields, using long range artillery to harass the Word Bearers.
They had recovered several enemy wrecks, and even a handful of Space Marines who had been overrun by masses of droids. One had been disabled by a D-100 and now was being held suspended in energy shackles deep in the cells beneath Fredrick's Citadel. He was guarded by a trio of IG-200 droids who were under orders to terminate him if he attempted escape.
The Space Marine was one of the standard Line Astartes which made up the bulk of the Enemy's number. He had proven a lack luster intelligence asset, screaming oaths of defiance and devotion to Dark Gods. Yet several Tactical droids had expressed interest in what the Space Marine could tell them about the biological makeup of their opposition.
Fredrick looked out, he would have to begin reconstruction efforts of the regions absolutely devastated by the conflict between the Confederate Army and the Word Bearers.
Dozens of tasks were before him yet first he was expected to address the population.
A veritable phalanx of IG series accompanied Fredrick, ever vigilant guardians against any threat that could waylay him.
He mounted the steps to a raised balcony overlooking one of the Hive's streets, the same spot that the Governor had once given speeches from. Thousands of faces looked up to him, and he could almost feel the anticipation, agents employed
"My people, today is the day that the enemy runs from us, the day that our defenders triumphed over the Great Enemy. Even now as their ships slink away in orbit, as they hide from our guns we must be ever vigilant, for traitors stand in our midst. For those too weak to stand with us, those doubters who embraced the enemies whispers, Retribution is coming! Nothing now stands against us, and those who do not stand with us have no place amongst you, my people. Together we shall bring light to the darkest corners of this tenebrous galaxy, we shall be the flame that guides the lost home. So extend a hand to each other and lift up your brothers, lift them up to a new tomorrow. We shall rebuild this planet, heal the devastation of war and then we shall conquer the stars! No more shall invaders set foot upon Kursk, it shall be us who descends from their skies!
The people raised a rockous cheer, thousands of soldiers who had been raised to fight the Word Bearers were present, some showing the wounds of war, yet all stood proud. Fredrick wondered at all their accomplishments throughout the struggle. Many had been pulled back from the front following the collapse of the enemy's cultist army.
"Numerous battles still rage across our world, but we will emerge triumphant. As I speak our admirals have begun to scour the void of the enemy. We will create a Navy so powerful that they will never again trouble your lives. I call upon the people of Kursk to join their efforts to this endeavour, to labor alongside our brothers of steel in their works."
He watched as the people stared up at the screens depicting his image, if only they could look beneath the pristine white exterior.
He raised his gauntlet in a salute. "To Victory!"
A cry from the veterans emerged, the raw throated human shouts, echoing his synthetic voice.
He basked in their adoration for a while, listening to shouts of "Lord Fredrick" from the amassed citizens.
Fredrick turned away, and walked back into the citadel. He was looking forward to his rest cycle. Artificial stimulants and synthetic organs had kept Fredrick awake for an entire week, coordinating the various efforts required to secure the Word Bearers in their final extraction zone.
He had to sleep in his armor, he had been sealed in it following the surgeries to save his life. A rack was waiting for him, custom made to suit the bulk of his armor and life support. He watched as the clamps descended and gripped his shoulders, lifting him off the ground and tilting him into a rest position.
Fredrick wasn't alone, around him were a ring of his bodyguards, ever vigilant purple eyes staring into the darkness, capable of seeing through the various parts of the electromagnetic spectrum, no spy could hide from their sight.
As he drifted into sleep however, his mind was touched by a presence that no droid could detect let alone defend him from.
Cold was the first sensation his mind could fathom. The weight of a vast conscience pressed against Fredrick's soul. He couldn't see, but he could feel about him. It was a crushing weight, daunting and ominous.
Fredrick looked about his armor's servos purring as it shifted about. He looked about, blind to the thing that was close enough to reach out and touch him.
Yet a small bluish light slowly became visible and Fredrick began to grasp the enormity of the thing before him. A voice whispered to him, its voice pitched low as if frightened he would be heard.
"Mortal, gaze upon it, but do not look to close lest it shatter you. This is but a fragment of the larger whole, but this creature is of your doing. You awakened the beast when you brought you machine slaves to the its Icy prison."
The voice seemed to come from all directions, both accusatory and fearful.
"You must destroy the Iron Collar and its hold upon the material world. Set your sin to rest Fredrick, lest it devour all you hold dear."
The Light seemed to brighten as the voice faded away, a shifting flickering light, as if unseen blue and purple fires lit the area, and as they burned brighter the darkness around him seem to stir, until some vast unconquerable will seemed to behold him.
Then its presence fell upon him, the will of a being unfathomably ancient and alien compared to man. Yet he could at the height of his perception glimpse a tiny piece of understanding, an emotion that was not unlike contempt, but detached almost in the same fashion a man might hold contempt for a micro organism he destroyed with a simple disinfectant.
Then its will feel upon him and his drifting soul was violently shoved away in its attempt to grasp him. Something he could not perceive had caused him to slip the grasp of its will. A buffer that prevented him from grasping what exactly he was looking at and it from properly seeing him.
"You will seek the Iron Collar, it is both prison and refugee to this thing, cast it into the Churning Chaos else all that you have built will crumble."
Then the buffer, and the slick oily feeling that came with disappeared and he was left facing the thing.
He beheld it and something inside started to crack. He felt utterly alone, trapped in a dark vortex that he could not escape.
That was when its attention turned towards him. Like a lead sheet it smothered him, and with it came a wave of despair and longing for death. It overpowered him utterly and laid low the foundations of his soul.
Despair and dread sent him to his knees. This attack, if it could be called that was too much for a man, even one as hardened by suffering as he was, to withstand.
A sterile synthetic voice spoke.
"Fredrick is undergoing immense stress, begin repair work."
For a moment, Fredrick could see the Purple eyes of his bodyguards all fixed upon him, before the image faded, and the monolithic shadow engulfed him once again.
Fredrick drifted, lost in the void. He could see, feel and hear nothing. It felt like an eternity went by between each beat of his heart.
He reached about and touched nothing.
Then after a subjective eternity, a blue flickering light appeared, faint against the crushing darkness.
"Awaken Fredrick. YOU MUST SEEK THE IRON COLLAR. Cast it into the Great Rift and free your people of a great evil for all eternity."
He snapped awake, IG units surrounded him, a pair of medical droids were operating from interface ports in his armor.
"Emergency measures successful, stabilize him."
IG-105 stood there, as close as a droid could be to panic. His primary directive was to ensure Fredrick lived, should his master die, he would've failed, which was unacceptable to his mission parameters.
"What caused this, has he been poisoned?"
"Biometrics state he is suffering from widespread internal bleeding, but in small quantities near the skin. Cause is difficult to determine, bloodstream shows no contaminants, nor do the GI tract monitors. I have no explanation for this."
IG-105 dismissed the medical droids to their labors and with help from a pair of IG-100s, had Fredrick's armored shell lowered to the ground. An incoherent mumble emanated from speaker grill of Fredrick's armor before stabilizing into a hushed whisper.
"IG-105, we must find the Iron Collar…"
His voice cut before returning, pained but stronger.
"It is a relic capable of unleashing terrible destruction upon the galaxy as a whole and upon our people."
"How did you learn of it?"
"Something took my soul in its hands and showed me. There is a shadow upon this sector, something ancient is stirring…"
"How was this done Lord. Nothing recorded matches the description of a Jedi's powers."
"It wasn't a Jedi."
