Magnus grit his teeth as he stared at the grey, dead husk that was the Daemon world where he had met Jarod. It had been a month since he had made the contract, and while he was successful in calming Jarod down and reassuring him that Michael was alright with the situation, he was not happy with what happened a day after they left.
He had not seen the beam of green energy that struck the planet. It defied the warp, it laughed at all the magic defenses and wards that had coated the planet's atmosphere. Through all of his perceived precognitions, never once had he Foreseen the destruction of the labyrinthian library.
What made it worse was that he could not rely on warp-based technology to calculate the trajectory of the beam. It was Necron in origin, that much he was sure - the Imperium did not have the technology to do such a thing, as even exterminatus would not have been able to strip the planet of any warp born influence. The impossible structures collapsed in on themselves, the crystal labyrinth shattered, and everything living on the planet stripped of their mutations and gifts, or simply outright killed. Daemons were banished as well, screaming in agony as they were thrown back into the warp.
It was not the same as when Jarod used his own abilities, no, that was different. Jarod's abilities were akin to a holy flame, a hot iron that purged the corrupting influences of chaos. This… this was different. It was more akin to tearing the immaterial and material apart from one another, separating one another in a way that Magnus had never seen before.
After a month, Magnus had finally managed to find where the beam had come from. He could not track the beam in the conventional sense, so they needed to calculate the direction of the beam and then track the coordinates in the direction of where it came from. There were several planets in that direction, but they also needed to account for where the planet's original positions had been when the beam went off. It wasn't so much difficult as it was tedious.
When they did locate the beams planet of origin, it made Magnus grimace. A dormant Necron Tomb world deemed to have too few recourses to be colonized to the imperium, and as of the last time he checked, the Necron's still hadn't awakened. Still, the ancient race of metal Xenos was far more advanced than the current factions of humanity, even in their own decrepit state.
Magnus teleported from his position on the bridge of his own ship to the large recreational hall that existed within the bowels of the ship. The Astartes in the room all jumped at his sudden appearance, but for the most part, settled down once they realized it was the Primarch. They did not relax, however, if anything they were tenser than they were before he had entered the room. Regardless, Magnus looked over the seventeen Astartes in the room.
Each of them was a leader of their own warband, and though they were less than loyal to anyone save themselves, but even the most arrogant of sorcerers would have a difficult time refusing the Primarch and expecting to live. Well, Ahriman was an exception of course, but he was also one of the few Magnus didn't really want to show up.
"All of you stand before me, each of you coming here with your warbands. I will admit, I expected more of you, but you will do." He started, before turning to two warband leaders with minimal mutations, "Roth, Yamil, the two of you will go to the planet of Laphon I. I want you to discover and destroy whatever weapon it was that destroyed the library. Do this, and you will be rewarded. Fail… and you shall suffer the consequences."
The two warlords nodded and turned to leave, walking through the blast door that would lead them to where their transports had docked. The rest of the traitor marines stood vigilant, awaiting whatever orders Magnus might give them.
"The rest of you… I expect you to continue your previous activities, but I will give you an order above that. Should you ever encounter the man known as Jarod Carolinus, you are to avoid him at all costs. Failing that, aid him when possible. I will not accept his death by any of your hands."
He dismissed them, before teleporting to his personal library. Shelves lined the walls, all filled his tomes, books, scrolls, and parchments that held knowledge known and unknown, ever-changing and forbidden. Magnus frowned as he began parsing through the books that detailed the universe he lived in. Michael claimed that his universe was a work of fiction and that for him, none of this had been real up till this point in history.
Books on the third millennium were near nonexistent, as even the Emperor did not have many from that era, but if anyone did hold the knowledge, it was Tzeentch. He had a lot of research to do.
[-]
Landon stared out the clear window that was in his cell. He had been stripped of his armor, of his weapons, and of anything that might have aided him in escaping the Xenos built cell. He was kept out of stasis by the Necrons and humans on the planet so that they could attempt to convince him to join them. A prospect which the Chapter Master was… adverse to, at the very least.
He turned to the blue force field wall that kept him from leaving the cell, the opaque surface keeping him from seeing the hallways that were doubtless lined with other cells that held his brothers in stasis, as well as however many other criminals or loyal Imperial's that did not submit to the Necron's will.
He frowned, clenching and unclenching his bare fist. They had stripped him of his armor and weapons, depriving him of any way to defend himself or make any progress in escaping. All he wore was a set of plain blue robes, which would serve no defense of any kind save keeping his modesty.
He would readily admit that the Necrons were being far more reasonable than any Xenos he had ever encountered before, including the few times the Aeldari had tried to form a truce with him, their arrogance had overshadowed what goodwill they did have with him. Which, admittedly, wasn't much.
He was interrupted from his thoughts when the opaque wall suddenly became transparent and beyond it, he saw the Pharekh, Nevha, standing before him. He would admit she was larger than he was, standing over three meters tall, possible four if he were to measure her accurately. She held in one hand a staff, which glowed with a powerful blue light, ready to cut down her enemies, or if he offended her, Landon himself.
"What do you want, Xeno? I have listened to your arguments, and I am firm in my stance. I will not join you, and I will not condone the actions of the traitors that stand alongside you."
She looked down at him, her eyes glowing blue with no emotion visible, "I am here because I require your aid." she said simply.
The chapter master frowned, "What could possibly make you believe I would offer my aid to you when you hold me and my brothers captive like dogs?"
She stood, stock still as she stared at him. They stood in silence for several moments before she answered, "You are aware of the traitors to the Imperium, those who have aligned themselves to the dark powers, correct?" she asked.
He grimaced but gave a firm nod.
She nodded once, "In that case, that is what I require your assistance with. We do not possess any means of dealing with the psychic abilities of our enemies, and even as we speak, a dozen ships of the chaotic Thousand Sons make their way to this world."
"What?" Landon asked, his eyes going wide as he realized what she was asking, "You are asking me to assist you in fighting the traitors?" he asked.
"Yes, and while I am just as capable of dealing with them myself, I do not wish to sacrifice the lives of the guardsmen placed under my care. I would use our great weapon again, but according to the Cryptek, it could very well take years before it is recharged enough to use." she explained.
Landon frowned, considering her offer. On the one hand, she was a filthy Xeno, unfit to fight alongside the servants of the Imperium, and yet here she was, asking him to help her fight his traitorous kin. She was actively fighting against the enemies of mankind and protecting those who were under her purview. It was an honorable act, even if she was a Xeno.
"To add to that, should you help us, you will be free to go." she said abruptly.
He narrowed his eyes, "What is your ploy? You say we would be free to go, and yet I somehow find myself doubting the truth in those words."
She shrugged, her metal shoulders making no sound as the moved, "I will not try to manipulate you, Chapter Master, but I will tell you this. I have no interest in seeing you dead, as that will serve no purpose. You are more valuable to not just me, but the entire human race, alive rather than dead." she explained.
Landon frowned, considering her words. It was true, in a sense, that he was more valuable to everyone alive. Warm bodies could fight, and work. But she was also asking him to abandon everything he lived for. To sacrifice his oaths and honor as an Adeptus Astartes. He was about to turn her down for the nth time when he felt something crawling on his hand.
Looking down, he saw dozens, no, hundreds of tiny machines crawling along with his hands. Individually, they were near invisible but gathered as they were, it was a dark grey splotch against his skin, the crawling sensation flooding his nerves. He tried to slap away the machines, put to no avail.
"What are these!? What are you doing!" he demanded.
She tilted her head downward slightly, "They are called mind shackle scarabs. Should you refuse my offer, I will a single one of these into the center of your brain, rewiring it to my needs. These Scarabs will take control of your nervous system, your very being, bending you to my will. I am showing this to prove to you that I do not need your consent. For the past month, I have been trying to convince you to assist me willingly. Now, I ask you. Will you fight against the Ruinous powers alongside your kin, or will I be forced to reduce you to a mere slave?" she asked.
Landon grit his teeth, biting the inside of his cheek and drawing blood. She was more powerful than anything he had ever faced, and he would have to be very careful in how he answered.
[-]
Yamil was a sensible sorcerer, as much as any servant of Tzeentch could be. Roth was leading half the fleet they had brought to deal with the Necrons on the planet, and while the brute was not dumb by any measure, he had yet to pick up on any of Yamil's plans to usurp him and combine both fleets. The Primarch had chosen the two of them for this mission, and Yamil had been eyeing Roth's fleet for quite some time now. It was fate, in its cruelest, most base form.
Yamil smiled, as he stood aboard the ship's observation deck, looking out at the vast emptiness of space before them. The auspex had read six ships of Imperial origin, three belonging to the space marines of the Astral Winds chapter. He chuckled silently, thinking on his loyalist cousins. Or, rather, loyalist brothers, considering they shared the same gene-seed.
It was an open secret among the higher-ranking members of the thousand sons of which space marine chapters the Mechanicus had seen fit to found off their fathers gene-seed. The Astral Winds and the Blood Ravens were but two of many, several of which had already turned to the everchanging will of Tzeentch.
Still, if the space marines had sought to attack a tomb world, it would explain why the weapon had fired at all. It would take them a few days to reach the point where they could enter combat with the Imperial vessels, so the majority of the crew simply prepared. The Astartes - numbering in the realm of roughly six hundred between his and Roth's fleet - prepared their armor and weapons, praying to the gods and seeking strength.
The mortals on the ships, of which there were thousands, if not tens of thousands on board each ship, likewise prepared. Still, it was unlikely any of them would see combat. If they were to go down to the surface they would likely be used as little more than cannon fodder for the more dangerous and well-equipped space marines.
As they traveled, Yamil kept an eye on the loyalist ship's movements, noting that despite them being well within sensor range, they had yet to move in any way.
"How long until we are within weapons range?" Yamil asked the Astartes that ran the helm.
"Two hours until we are at maximum range, my lord. Seven before effective range."
Yamil nodded, taking the knowledge into consideration. It was odd, really, that even so close as they were, they were not reacting, "Set a course for the lead strike cruiser. If they truly are dead in the void I would like-"
He was cut off when the ships rumbled, "What was that!?" he demanded.
"Damage to our rear void shields! Something is behind us!" the crewman answered.
The ship shook again, and Yamil looked at the Auspex to see what was behind them. Only three ships, not of Imperial of chaos origin, were firing on the chaos vessels from farther than they could reciprocate.
"What are they!?" The sorcerer demanded.
"Necron vessels my lord! Three of them just out of weapons range. They are not dealing any significant damage, but they are gradually draining the void shields. It will not be long before the shields get to critical points."
Yamil cursed, "Raise Roth on the vox!" he ordered, and the crewman complied.
"What is it Yamil!? I am currently dealing with three unknown ships attacking our rear. This is not the time for games." the warlord asked.
"I am aware of our predicament Roth, which is why I am asking you to send your ships to go deal with them. We will continue to the planet to combat the loyalists while a few of your ships deal with our rear. I am sure you do not see any fault in that."
"Oh no, you don't. I am not sending my ships to go fight the Xenos only to have you betray me down on the planet's surface! No, I will only send two of my ships, and only if you send an equal number." Roth demanded.
Yamil cursed, wondering when Roth had picked up on his wish to usurp his warband. He shook his head, there would be time to deal with the warlord later, and he could not afford to have foreign ships at his rear.\
"Fine. I will send two of my ships but know this Roth, I will be watching the reports from them. Should you attempt to leave them dead in the void, I will know." he warned.
"Just be sure you do not do the same," Roth said before the vox clicked off.
Soon after four ships broke off from the main fleet, heading toward the Necron ships. Unless more were hiding in the shadows, they could deal with them. Soon, they were moving ever closer to the planet, and ever closer to the effective range of their weapons. Reading the readouts from the two ships he sent off, it seemed as if the Necron ships were avoiding them, darting off whenever they got too close, staying far enough that the ships couldn't do any real damage, and too far for them to do any damage themselves.
A distraction if he'd ever seen one. The question was what this distraction was for. Keeping the fact in the back of his mind, he turned his focus to the Loyalist ships in front of him. A few more minutes and they would be in the perfect position to fire upon them.
Those few minutes passed quickly, and the second they were in position, both Yamil and Roth gave the order to fire.
Lascannons, torpedoes, missiles, and Macro-cannons all launched forward, hitting dead on. It wasn't until they passed through the ships and the forms began to waver that Yamil realized exactly why the ships hadn't moved in the slightest… and that moon was worryingly close.
"All ships turn about and brace for impact!" he shouted into the vox, just seconds before the ship shook with the impact of a half-dozen macro-cannon rounds impacting the void shields.
Running another auspex scan, he picked up the six ships as they came out from behind Laphon I's moon. Another volley and the ship shook again, but this time Yamil ordered the weapons crews to return fire, and with eight ships outnumbering the loyalists six - even with their element of surprise - it was only a matter of time before the tides turned in his favor.
All ships, loyalists and traitors alike, traded blows. Void shields were drained and hulls were breached, and it wasn't long before the first ship went down.
One of the Chaos vessels, a ship belonging to Roth's warband, took significant damage to its main engines. When those went off, it started a chain reaction with all of the other ammunition batteries and fuel stores caused the ship to explode in a rage of fire. The Astartes of the ship managed to evacuate, but only due to their own diligence. The mortals aboard were not so fortunate.
It wasn't long before one of the Loyalists ships was heavily damaged as well, at the same time as one of Yamil's own ships was damaged. Both ships moved back to the rear of their respective formations. Taking a moment to look at the readouts from the two ships he had sent out to deal with the Necron ships, he noted that the Necrons had become more aggressive. He cursed his luck. The Xenos were likely trying to keep their enemies together, force them to kill each other before preying on what was left.
Because they were being more aggressive now, the ships he sent could not simply move back to the larger formation in fear of taking significant damage.
It wasn't long before both sides had taken significant enough damage that they would need to pull back from each other in order to keep from getting too committed to one battle. If they did that then there would be no way to return to where they had come from. A single engagement was not enough to decide how the entire would pan out, but Yamil would admit he was pleased with how it had gone.
The four ships that had been sent to deal with the Necrons slowly managed to get away from their opponents and made contact with the rest of the fleet. They were damaged, though not severely. In truth, they were probably in the best shape of any of the Chaos vessels.
Regardless, now that they were not in constant engagement, Yamil and Roth sent out their orders; "Prepare for landfall, and prepare to mutilate the loyalist dogs."
[-]
AN: Soooo…. I'm back? Yeah, it's been a while since I've updated this story, and I'll admit that's partially my own fault. I've been reading a ton of Worm fics as of late and even started my own on Spacebattles (for those of you reading on FF), so that's one thing thats been eating me. Another reason is that I've been busy with work and home remodeling, so hopefully, now that the latter is at least finished, I can write some more.
Another thing to not is that for a while I'd almost given up on this story. It started out as pretty much pure crack, but now? Still some cracky elements, but I like to think I have a functional plot at this point. Still, I was on the verge of giving up on the story or just rebooting it from the beginning, minimize the crack, and just go from there.
In the end, as you can see here, I've decided to move on with the story as it is. In all its plot-holey goodness.
Oh! And I know I announced it on the spacebattles forum already (I think) but have a Pat/|/reon now, so if you want to buy me a soda or something, you can join the discord and take a look at my current writing projects and what I'm working on.