Chapter 1

Assembling the Guard & First Contact

"As you can see Fabricator I am not completely unprepared to deal with this infestation"

The Emperor of Man to the Fabricator General

--

It was not known to the masses of the Imperium that the immortal God-Emperor had been revived. As far as the citizens of the Imperium of Man, and the myriad other forces in the galaxy knew it was just business as usual. The million worlds of the Imperium carried on living like any other day. A hundred worlds across the Imperium were being fought over for control between the titanic war machine of the Imperial Guard and the maelstrom of alien, traitor and un-dead armies vying too take control.

Armageddon was still under siege by the Orks. Cadia was still at a state of red alert, waiting for Chaos' retribution for the monumental losses they suffered in the other galaxy. The Tyranids still attacked worlds in the far eastern fringe. The Tau Empire was planning a counterattack for the failed Imperial Crusade against them. Reports indicated that the Craftworld Biel-Tan had appeared over a world which was being colonised and were threatening all out war with the little colony, claiming it to be one of their Exodite worlds.

He would deal with all this in time.

The Emperor stood on one of the verandas overlooking the old mustering grounds, watching the sun of the Sol system set on the horizon. He did not allow his eyes to leave the sight. He would burn this image into his mind. The first time he had seen the sun in over ten thousand years, such a simple thing, yet a thing that meant so much to him at this moment.

The great double doors at the other side of the chamber opened and the Fabricator General, the supreme commander of the Adeptus Mechanicus stepped into the chamber, adorned by a flowing hooded red cloak. His face was a mask of augmented implants with eight thin metal tentacles extending from his chin and the sides of his face. Another eight long tentacles stretched from his back, wrapped around his armoured form like the legs of a spider, his two hands held a myriad of weapons including wrist-mounted miniature lasguns, missile launchers and two power-swords attached to his forearms. His waist held the holster of the Mechanicus' ancient bolt pistol and the power-sword of his office, a dark red hilt and guard with gold engravings, the blade was a meter long liquid silver with black engravings on the flat sides.

"My lord Omnissiah" the Fabricator said, his voice augmented with mechanical implants, he came down on a knee and bowed his head.

He had seen the image of the Emperor in the ancient tapestries in the holy churches and cathedrals he had visited but they just seemed so insignificant now compared to meeting the man in the flesh. The Emperor wore his ancient and legendary battledress. Gold ceramic power armour with runes and hieroglyphs decorating its armoured surface, a long cloak of crimson lined with silver and gold with the black double imperial eagle marked on its surface. His ancient power blade was sheathed at his waist with a golden bolter holstered.

"Rise Fabricator General" the Emperor commanded "I have a very important problem which I wish to discuss with you"

"Yes my lord"

"A dark shadow is spreading across the surface of Mars" the Emperor began, turning around and looking at the retreating sun as he spoke "A false god who your order calls the machine god is forsaking the relics and artefacts of the sacred world of Mars. His actions will create a civil war within the Adeptus Mechanicus, within the Imperium itself. A war not seen since the herecy"

The Fabricator remained silent. He wanted to deny the Emperor. Tell him that he couldn't be right. But deep down he knew that he was speaking the truth, the leader of the Adeptus Mechanicus couldn't quite explain it, but he knew in the depths of his soul that he needed to trust him.

"The armed forces of the Adeptus Mechanicus are at your disposal my lord"

"Good" the Emperor replied "Gather as many warriors as you can. Do not relay any orders to Mars. I want a total blackout of the chief forge-world. Discretely deploy your forces on that planet and await my own"

"Yes my lord" the Fabricator replied and was about to leave but a flicker of movement on the outside caught his attention. He walked up to the balcony the Emperor was standing on and looked into the courtyard beyond. If he still had organic eyes they would have been as wide as dinner plates.

The courtyards were filled with columns of Custodian Guard. Fully dressed in their golden armour, with crimson red battledress and long streaming cloaks which bellowed in the wind, making them look like an army of wraiths in the twilight of sunset, their helmets were shaped like spear tips with a long crimson mane flowing out of their backs, completing the image of warrior-ghosts to the supreme ruler of the Imperium and the galaxy. In their hands they held the ancient and legendary guardian spears, long poles of red etched with golden markings, a bolter attached to its front which in turn had a long bayonet type blade attached too its lug.

The full legion of ten thousand Custodians had to be in attendance along with the massive bulky forms of the armies Hellfire Dreadnoughts, their own golden armour polished too a shine by the masses of Tech-Marines who were travelling within their ranks, performing prayers and rights too the weapons and mechanisms. Chaplains and Librarians moved through the army, their amplified voices roaring prayers and praises from the holy books, their hands anointing their fellow battle-brothers, preparing them spiritually for the coming battle. At the head of the congregation was the mighty Captain-General Dominic Hue, the strongest and most powerful of the ten thousand, the Captains standing too attention in a line behind him.

It was the Captain-General who saw the Emperor standing on the royal balcony. He didn't utter a word, only nodded his head, a nod which was returned by the immortal leader. He bowed and raising his spear stabbed its butt down onto the basalt floor. The resulting echo brought the rest too attention. The second bang was unanimous, ten thousand guardian spears hitting the ground in unison, then again, and again, and again. It continued until the Emperor raised his hand, strapped inside a golden gauntlet with the Imperial eagle etched onto its back and the army went eerily silent once more.

"As you can see Fabricator" the Emperor said with a smile "I am not completely unprepared too deal with this infestation"

The Fabricator didn't utter a word, only nodded slightly. The Custodian Guards had not mustered like this in his lifetime, or the lifetimes of at least ten of his predecessors he was sure. He had recorded this moment, for the footage would undoubtedly be placed in the royal archives of the Imperium. The Emperor and his Custodian Guard, together again after ten thousand years and preparing for war like they hadn't missed a beat. It was magnificent.

"Fabricator" the Emperor said softly, catching the former High Lords attention from the army in attendance below "Assemble a small army of your most devoted and trustworthy Tech-Priests. Enough to get a planetary defence online and meet me in the war room in the southern section of the palace"

--

It had taken the Fabricator General four hours to assemble the personnel that the Emperor asked for. Nearly a hundred and fifty red robed Tech-Priests marched down the halls in a column of five by thirty, all following the wraith like form of their lord. Down the many hundreds of corridors of the ancient palace, past the walls covered in ancient tapestries showing pinnacle moments in the great empires history.

The ready room in this section of the palace had not been used in thousands of years and yet the floors, furniture and walls were cleaned, no cobwebs hung from the tapestry covered basalt walls, the thousand year old computer consoles, astropath systems that hadn't seen a navigators mind in millennia, and mapping tables which once showed the great battles of the Great Crusade and beyond were spotless. Standing in the centre of this ancient place was the immortal Emperor, who turned to face the congregation of the Mechanicus.

"As you have asked for sire" the General stated as he stepped forward, the hundred and fifty Tech-Priests falling on their knees and bowing to the towering man in reverence "A force of my finest and most loyal priests, at your command"

"Excellent" the Emperor replied and stalked to a bare section of the wall where the tapestry of Saint Sabbat, the martyred saint of the Sabbat worlds stood proud in her golden armour, her blade of liquid silver stabbing into the head of an unnamed daemon prince. He pushed a section of the tapestry and the drawing rose up, revealing the dusty lines of an ancient basalt door, four holes were plunged into the stone "I require four of you to step forward and unlock this door!"

There was the slight whirl of machine language as the adepts conversed amongst themselves, then four priests rose and stalked towards the immortal Emperor, raised their staffs and stabbed the tips into the holes, they then began to turn them clockwise a hundred and eighty degrees. The doors hissed and then fell away, revealing the dark interior of an ancient passage.

Wordlessly the Emperor entered, drawing his sword from its sheath and whispering softly to his weapon, the blade began to hum and glow with a golden hue, illuminating the secret hall in eerie light. The Fabricator and his Tech-Priests hesitated for a moment before the High lord stalked forward, followed by the red cloaked figures of his priests in well disciplined ranks.

The Emperor stalked down the darkened corridor, holding the sword in front of him. Tip aimed at the ceiling to illuminate the passage. After three hundred meters he came to a chamber, its lighting had long since been extinguished. In the centre of this was a massive elevator, easily large enough to hold two hundred able bodied men. The Emperor did not hesitate. He walked into the lift, beckoning the small army of Tech adepts to follow him, which they did. The Emperor walked up to a control console, pressed several runes and felt a sudden thrust of g-force the elevator descended into darkness.

Eventually they felt a whoosh of air, symbolising that they had come out of the shaft and into a larger chamber, a very large chamber based on the howl of the wind, in fact the chamber was so massive that the emperor's sword could only illuminate a small section of the place. The high lord squinted, his highly sensitive augmented vision just seeing the split second shine of the light hitting off a metallic surface. The Fabricator switched his vision from normal to night vision.

It was a dry-dock, a massive underground dry-dock, stretching out for as far as the eye could see. Walkways held up by thick metal cable stretched along the sides of the dock and high above in the seven kilometre high ceiling. A massive bulk of some vessel lay in the dock, big enough for the high lords mind too be a new generation of battleship.

"You and your adepts have two days to prepare her for space flight. Can you do that?"

"It will be done my lord" the general replied, a ghost of a smile touching his lips as he saw the warship laid out before him. He always loved a challenge.

--

A cloud of metallic shapes travelled the ruinous corridors of the warp, the main fleet of the Dark Angels, their Gellar fields on full power even though the torrents of assaulting ruinous energy seemed more calm than any on board had ever seen. On the command deck of the Battlebarge Angel of Retribution Chapter Master Azrael watched as his Primarch paced restlessly across the gleaming marble deck, his winged helm covering his features.

Lion El'Jonson was pacing because he felt that the events which his father had foreseen were already in motion. Like all those who had the Emperors blood flowing through their veins the Lion was an inept psyker, his power being of one of the higher classes between high beta and high alpha. He felt the tiny pinpricks of voids, thousands of them closing in on the sacred soil of Terra and the Sol system.

The armies of this Star-god creature were amassing, thousands, maybe millions of the soulless Necrons aboard their vile Tombships, all closing in on the holiest place in the entire Imperium, in the whole galaxy. For such a battle the Dark Angels needed every ship they could muster, and they did just that.

Their four Battlebarges Unrelenting Fury, Ultimate Vengeance, Undying Faith and Angel of Retribution were at the centre of the procession with a fleet of Strike Cruisers and picket frigates flanking them. The Retribution was chosen as the flagship by the Lion because of its long history, the vessel itself dating back to the Great Crusade ten thousand years before.

"My lord" Azrael said "We are approaching the Sol system. Do we have permission to drop out of the warp and declare our arrival?"

"Permission granted Chapter Master" El'Jonson replied as he turned and stalked back to his command throne at the centre of the monolithic command deck of the Battlebarge.

The throne was made of golden metal embroidered with dark green and black on the arms and sides, his own blade sheathed in a scabbard attached too its left side. Two space marines of the Primarchs newly restored Chapter Guard flanked the throne, both veterans of over a hundred years of combat wearing the dark green armour of the chapter with golden embroidering around the helm and shoulder plates to symbolise their status. Green bladed power swords were held firmly in front of them, blade pointing down to the metal decking. The Lion took his seat and waited for the multicoloured dimension of the warp too fade away to the normal starlight of realspace.

What greeted the taskforce were the blinding flashes of fire and silent explosions. A section of the outer-defences was ablaze, washed over with lances of orange and green light. Several defence platforms were burnt out and hanging dead, two space stations were drifting away from their positions, ablaze with fire and explosions which ripped whole decks apart. Thousands of tiny miniscule shapes symbolised the launching of fighters and gunships against whoever was attacking them. Warships were appearing in the distance, heading for the battle.

"They're here already" El'Jonson mumbled, his gauntleted hand resting on the silver wrapped hilt of his power sword "Long range auspex, find our fleet some targets will you!"

A few moments passed as the astropaths searched the sector, finally a cluster of images flashed to life in front of him. Six Necron Tombships were striking at the defensive positions, clusters of smaller vessels streaming past them to wreck havoc in the Imperial lines. The Lion raised an eyebrow, Tombships were rare too see, too date only three such vessels had ever been spotted in one battle and he had read enough of the reports to know what kind of damage these capital-ships could do. Nothing in the Imperial arsenal could stand against them one on one. Not even a battlebarge.

"All long range lance batteries target the closest Tombship" he ordered, calm and in control "Hit it with everything. Don't stop firing until it starts to burn!"

The four Battlebarges fired their main lance batteries as one, the beams streaking across the darkness and passed by the closest Tombship, only two beams struck the liquid metal hull of the battleship and those beams were absorbed by the powerful shields. In response the Tombship turned around and fired its long range gausse cannons, the green streaks of lightning struck the void shields of the Undying Faith, the shields held.

The Tombships gausse cannons found and struck another four ships, the shields of the Strike Cruisers Divine Justice and Unbending Faith held, the frigate Devotion suffered a glancing blow but the frigate Sergeant Naaman took a direct hit, its shields failed and the green cannon fire sliced through the heavy armour, the frigate went up like a flare.

By now the Tombship was in range and the four Battlebarges released everything they had, lances beamed from main cannons, las-cannons and rail guns flared. The combined firepower of four of the deadliest warships in the Imperium descended on the Necron starship, the combined fire seared through their shields. Their combined fire sliced into their hull plating causing several internal explosions. But the Tombship kept coming, its main cannons firing upon the amassed fleet of the Dark Angels and their descendant chapters.

A swarm of small silver objects escaped from the dying Tombship, small pin shaped vessels whose liquid silver hulls glistened in the starlight. In response the Primarch ordered the launch of their Thunderhawk compliments. Several moments later a second salvo of lances punctured the already strained armoured hull, tearing the Tombship into two pieces.

"More ship signals coming in sir" a serf called "Densely packed, can't tell how many"

"Helmsmen, get us behind the front line" El'Jonson shouted "Send a distress call to Terra and the naval bases of Jupiter, Saturn and Neptune. We need as many ships as they can spare!!"

Another twelve Necron Tombships came into existence, slowly materialising out of nothing, swarms of smaller vessels streaked around them. Twenty Scythe-class Harvest Ships, fifty smaller raiders of different classes, each spilling out torrents of small fighter and bomber craft to join the five remaining Tombships already exchanging fire with the forces of Battlefleet Terra. The long range vox-channels were in complete chaos, according to many high ranking officers this was already the largest fleet of Necron vessels ever seen, and the numbers were still growing. Another two Tombships appeared fifty thousand kilometres off with a compliment of six Harvest Ships.

Taking a deep breath Lion El'Jonson sat in his command chair and prepared to lead the Imperial defenders in perhaps one of the most decisive battles in the Imperium's history.