AN: Hello everyone, it's been a while. Spartan626, Raven Guard was the only option deployment wise, the rest were all still on the western front as I mentioned…The wolves will get their moment, as will all the other Legions. CapitalClassShip, you'll see what I do. sonic3461, the Turian disrupter mods screwed with the electronics, disabling that feature. MEleeSmasher, that's actually one of the codex entries this time around. DahakStaz, One ship…it is 25 km long though. As for the rest, you will see as I get to that. Two more things before we start. First, thank you once again Unkle WAAAAGH for contributing a couple of scenes. Second: I have a poll on my profile you need to take a look at…Nothing to do with this particular fic, but it has to do with my plans going forward in general. Anyways let's begin.
Speech
Thoughts
Radio/machine speech/scene change
314: Target: Palaven
Palaven: An hour before the end of the last chapter
Palaven, the jewel in the Turian Hierarchy's crown, and their home world. For over fifteen hundred years, ever since the end of the unification war and the subsequent Krogan war, it had stood as a bastion of strength and power in the Citadel alliance.
The system, due to the warrior society of its inhabitants, was the most fortified system after the Citadel itself. Hundreds of defensive satellites, each containing as much fire power as a cruiser and carrying whole wings of fighters and bombers, were spread throughout the system. The most powerful single fleet in all known space; one hundred fifty cruisers, seventy five dreadnoughts, fifty heavy dreadnoughts, twenty "super carriers," and five bulk transports that had been turned into massive guns whose sole purpose was to snipe high value ships before they got in range of the rest of the fleet.
If that wasn't enough the planets and moons of the system had thousands of anti-orbital guns, ranging from minor weapons only really good against frigates to massive complexes designed to down whole dreadnought squadrons…and millions of full time soldiers stood ready to repel any invaders, with the entire population of the world, ranging in the tens of billions, ready to form militia groups and aid in the defense of their homes.
Beyond its daunting defenses, the system was also known to hold the largest shipyards in Citadel space. Operating at full capacity, this tens of thousands of kilometers long complex was able to create squadrons of dreadnoughts in mere days, and hundreds of cruisers in the same amount of time. The Palaven ship yards were so efficient that other races contracted them to produce ships for them when time was pressing, ranging from small independent merchant vessels all the way up to cruisers.
The site of the system on an ordinary day would have been a sight to behold in and of itself, but this was not an ordinary day. The badly damaged ships of the Seventh fleet had pulled into the yard for repairs an hour ago, and delivered sobering news to high command. The Seventh fleet had been mangled by unknown aliens on the other side of a relay after launching an expedition to avoid an all-out war. They left nothing out of their report.
Recriminations and arguments blazed up over this, various factions within high command using this to justify their agendas. In the end, Primarch Julius, the current head of the Turian military, had to step in. His decision was absolute, and final. Six whole battle fleets, the largest single fleet formation since the Krogan rebellions, would gather at the home system, before heading to reinforce the beleaguered Seventh.
With his orders issued, the Turian military carried them out. The battle fleets arrived within half an hour, after they were relieved by other formations, and began to hammer out their command structure. Overall command fell to Admiral Aurellius, the much more successful and cool headed cousin of the man who kicked off this mess, and command of the ground forces fell to General Marius, the officer who had already earned his place in Turian history with the massed airborne assault that he carried out that led to the Airborne Legions.
This organization had taken another half an hour, and now the fleets were lined up for inspection by Primarch Julius. The inspection was broadcast all over Citadel space by news crews, though the reason for such a grand assembly had yet to be revealed to the galaxy at large.
Citadel Station: Council Private Chambers:
The three most powerful political figures in the Citadel Alliance, the Councilors, sat in tense silence while they waited for the other to speak first. Representing the Asari Republics was Matriarch Tevos, due to the long life span her people were blessed with she had served on the previous three councils and was thus the most experienced there. Glancing at her two compatriots, she took in their familiar appearances.
For the Salarian Union, Lokar Ax, a brown skinned Salarian with numerous age wrinkles who wore a black and gold full body robe, was young compared to his two colleagues, but due to the short life span of his people the forty year old was nearing his death; he had a strong grasp on the current politics of the Citadel, and ties with the STG that allowed him to have knowledge that he should not. Knowledge that usually liked holding back, unless it was relevant to the topic at hand…beyond that he played the political game like a chess board, cold and calculative; despite his abrasive personality, his actions had aided in defeating several attempts by the Batarians to get an exemption to their slaving ways, and information he had passed on helped eliminate several prominent pirate groups.
For the Turians, the current incumbent councilor was Brutruns Bromidonis was an odd one amongst his species. He was as disciplined as any other scion of Palaven, and he was as militarily focused as the rest. But what made him odd was his physic, while most Turians were lean, he had a musculature that would make a KROGAN envious…He had even beaten a Krogan assassin to death once, how he had managed to remove the Krogan's skull to use it as a weapon without killing the giant lizard first was still a mystery to this day. He was clad in an armored version of the standard councilor robes, but the color of the robes was a deep purple, the so called "Legionary Purple" among the races of the Citadel.
The silence in the room was finally broken when Ax spoke in a mildly irritated voice: "Bromidonis, I'll cut straight to the chase. Is this current fleet redeployment intended to claim unknown territory and resources to feed your people's war machine? Because if it is you should have contacted me first, and I could have had my contacts in the STG ease this operation, for a small cut of course."
Tevos' right eye twitched in annoyance at that, and before she could berate the Salarian for his assumption Brutruns gave him a flat look: "No Lokar, this is not at attempt to secure more resources." A sigh escaped the Turian's mandibles, "Although I wish it was. This information will be out soon enough, but here it is. The Seventh fleet ran into…Complications…while on patrol...And need reinforcements."
The Asari and Salarian both froze at that, and Tevos spoke in a deceptively calm tone: "What kind of 'complications' would require SIX battle fleets?"
The Turian spoke in a calm tone: "Approximately four and a half hours ago, the Seventh's patrol was cut short when they ran into a Batarian pirate vessel, exiting a previously inactive relay. After interrogation it seems they were chasing a Quarian ship, and forced it to activate relay 314. On the other side were three, what are now classified as 'Super Dreadnoughts.'"
After taking a pause to drink some tea one of the aides had provided, and give his colleagues a moment to digest this, he then continued: "These warships had weapons far beyond anything we understand. Admiral Gaius decided to attempt 'gunboat' diplomacy. However the unknowns were not sufficiently hardened against a massive discharge of power from a relay. Commodore Aurelius engaged them, provoking a battle over the colony world below."
"The brief exchange ended badly for the seventh. A full third destroyed in action, and another third so badly damaged they had to be pulled back for repairs…These were not 'field repairs,' whole decks were destroyed by the unknowns. When they retreated the remaining combat capable forces were preparing for an assault on the planet, high command decided that additional forces were required if this new race had any more ships of that caliber. So I would like to pass on a request from the Primarch that the best negotiator the Asari Republics has be dispatched with this battle group."
Dead silence met the summery the Turian councilor had given, and the request he passed on. To Tevos' credit, she immediately got in contact with the Matriarch Council, and managed to get Matriarch Benezia Tsoni's services to negotiate, and the diplomatic cruiser "Gaze of the Goddess" to transport her.
Five minutes later: Palaven: Bridge of the Legion's Wrath
Primarch Julius, an old male from Palaven itself, glanced at the message his omni-tool flashed up, "So, Bromidonis pulled through. Matriarch Benezia eh? Well that could either be good or bad…She is very good at getting what she wants in negotiations…on the other hand, she has a habit of being willing to compromise on critical points when she has a position of strength, which could bite the Citadel in the ass this time."
Returning his attention to the windows along the old dreadnought's side, he continued to inspect each ship in the massive armada and hear their status from the ship captains. Despite how important this review was, the Primarch's mind drifted back to the warship he was on at the moment.
The "Legion's Wrath" was the oldest dreadnought in the fleet, it dated back to the time of the Krogan Rebellions, and as such was basically a cruiser in size due to the advancements of time. This dreadnought had served as the flagship of the first fleet in that conflict, and had a storied history of victories. As it became obsolete it was rotated out of frontline service, and into a ceremonial role (such as for use during fleet inspections).
There was talk of making the ancient ship into a museum dedicated to the Turian Navy, and building a "Wrath of the Legions" as the flagship for a prototype "super heavy" dreadnought design. It was an idea that the old Primarch supported, as he was a firm believer in knowing the past to avoid repeating the mistakes that were made back then.
After another half an hour of inspecting the fleet, the review was finished. Rising to his feet from the chair he had been sitting in, and nodded to the signal officer of the Wrath to tell him to begin broadcasting: "Soldiers and Sailors of the Turian Hierarchy, you are about to embark on quite possibly the most important mission in modern history."
From there the old leader proceeded into a long speech, playing up patriotism and duty, as well as the importance of preventing a stain on the honor of the Turian Navy…he also made sure to lay ALL the blame for this at the feet of the Batarian pirates not knowing when to give up on their pursuit. The speech took another half an hour, as the Wrath pulled back to its regular station near the Palaven shipyards, a brief ping of unknown energy was detected. Much like their colleagues in the Seventh, the Turian Armada went into a defensive formation, and every defense in the system went active.
But it would not be enough, as a blindingly bright flash of light heralded the arrival of the Corus.
Bridge of the Corvus:
Corax, the Warlord Class Smart AI assigned to the Corvus, analyzed the sensor readings the Corvus was generating. Legion Commander Shrike had delegated control over the engagement in space to him, and he would not fail. As the Legionaries commenced their assault; teleporting onto the shipyard, launching a surgical assault via drop pods on several key defensive positions, and using boarding torpedoes or teleporters to board critical Turian warships; the AI began the naval battle with a salvo of lasers aimed at the tip of the Turian defensive line.
The salvo was brutally effective, dozens of "dreadnoughts," a classification Corax felt was unjustly applied to those ships, fell in the first volley. Most of the firepower of the massive black leviathan was being held back, as the AI tested the abilities of Imperial weaponry more thoroughly against the Turians. Soon laser fire changed to plasma, which while some dodged direct hits due to the slower speed of the plasma projectiles, was even more effective as it exploded on contact or in proximity to several targets, whole cruiser squadrons vanished in glowing balls of super-heated gasses.
Return fire started to pour in from all directions, ranging from fighter guns all the way up to the colossal anti-orbital batteries on the surface of Palaven and the moons of the planet…it was, ineffectual. Corax watched in morbid fascination as his gunner "dumb" AI tested various power levels and projectile compositions, the shields of the Corvus barely dropped a tenth of a percent in the five minutes they had been under fire, and then recharged near instantly.
Silently lamenting that the first combat trials of the Raven Guard would be against such pathetic foes, the AI directed the stored drone fighters and MS to deploy to test their effectiveness against the alien's weapons and defenses.
Palaven Shipyard: Section D, Battery Five
Turians, every the practical militarists, had heavily fortified their shipyards. Battery Five in Section D of the massive installation was rated at cruiser squadron strength, its crew was professional and well trained. But all that training was worthless when golden streaks of lightning started filling the chamber. The unstable energy vaporized anything that came in contact with it, and the control room was soon clear of all the crew.
When the lightning and energy died down, four bulky suits of armor stood in the remains of the room. Standing nine feet tall, and imitating the venerable Tartaros pattern terminator armor visually, these Raven Guard were equipped for war. Each carried a different load out of weaponry. One had a heavily modified assault cannon, one wielding a storm gladius…another wielding a thunder hammer and storm shield; and the final one bearing a flamer. They silently stood there, until they moved at once. Their very footsteps shook the ground, as they marched forward. Each footstep resounded out like a thunder, as each of them looked around.
The flamer issued Terminator spoke through the fire team coms: "Vox systems. Online."
The assault cannon specialist, revving his weapon to check its readiness…and make sure the new modifications to the old assault cannon were working: "Brother Eriel here." Judging it ready he continued on with his fire team.
Checking the opposite corridor, the "vanilla" terminator grumbled out his reply: "Brother Sariel, reporting in." Here he flexed the power fist that was on his other hand, and training his storm gladius down the corridor: "Ready to purge the xenos scum."
The melee specialist, slamming his hammer against his shield with a resounding clang, spoke up: "Brother Malkon, ready, check your bloodlust brother…If you go flying off the handle our odds of success go down.."
The last Terminator, the fireteam leader, spoke with a dry voice: "Brother Domiros, also here." Glancing at his hud he was able to see the levels of fuel and check his weapon's internal gas manufatury. "Our orders are clear brothers. Work our way into the station, sabotage the reactors for this section, and return before it explodes."
Eriel said, rolled his eyes underneath his helmet as he replied: "Yes brother. I would prefer not dying to such a pitiful foe." Eriel was the youngest of the squadron, having been a member of the Tenth Company back before the Legio started forming. As Malkon broke down the bulkhead, and part of the wall; Alarms flared, casting the hallway in a deep shade of red.
The corridors were narrow, narrow enough to force them to go one at a time. They were silent, with Malkon taking the front position, followed by Domiros, Sariel, and Eriel watching the rear. Finally, however, as they entered what could be a hangar, Malkon let out a growl of anger, as he was suddenly pushed backwards, bumping right into the rest of his brothers, almost making a domino effect.
Malkon growled, holding up his storm shield to absorb the thousands of bullets that came his way, as well as fighter cannons that had been temporarily mounted on any flat surface that would allow their usage: "It seems that the xenos have been adequately prepared." He slowly walked forward, as the rest of his brothers filed into the fighter assembly hangar.
Hundreds of xenos pilots and engineers had already begun to fire at them with basically no success, even with their improvised heavy weapons. Eriel simply laughed, his genuine laughter being transmitted from his helmets speakers to make it sound almost demonic: "These pitiful creatures can't even drain my shields, let alone puncture my armor. Do they even deserve our attention?"
Sariel simply snorted, as the veteran walked forward, revving up his assault cannon. The few xenos that seemed to have intelligence took cover. The ones that didn't… well...There wasn't enough of them left to tell who was who.
Turian Fighter's cockpit:
Tarquinius Vakarian, pilot in the Palaven defense fleet, threw his fighter into a twist to dodge out of the way of an incoming missile, punching his counter measures active. The fleet had been slowly torn apart by this monstrous vessel; nothing they could do even damaged it. Even the "hyper cannons" of the converted bulk freighters, which could destroy heavy dreadnoughts in one shot, did nothing.
The fighters and bombers of the navy had mostly been left alone, aside from the C.W.I.S. from the massive ship vaporizing anyone who got too close…but now they were in a fight for their lives. Fighters and strange giant bipedal machines had emerged like a swarm of insects, and laid into the Turians with a vengeance.
Vakarian's squadron had been scattered by a flight of enemy attackers. They were fast, agile, and highly dangerous; Talon 1 had learned that to his cost when he tried to shake his tail off with a reverse roll, and ate a volley of laser rounds, incinerating his craft.
Glancing at his sensors he spotted Talon 5 desperately trying to shake one of the attackers off of him; throwing his fighter into a pursuit vector, Tarquinius slotted himself in behind the attacking fighter. As he got into lock on range, he had time to look at the fighter he was going to try and destroy. It was utterly alien, there was a similarity to Asari designs with how smooth and agile it looked…but it was much more aggressive looking. It was a beautiful vehicle but clearly a warship, unlike the Asari fighters, which could almost pass as civilian personal transports (which several small time pirates had discovered much to their cost).
Firing off two missiles, he tracked their progress of the missiles as he fired off a stream of mass accelerator rounds to prevent evasion. The missiles slammed home, and to the Turian's dismay, did no damage as a blue shield sprung into existence, blunting the detonation. But the missile the attacker fired off at four had no trouble tearing through its defenses, turning the fighter into a fireball screaming through space.
He had no time to mourn though, his fighter's sensors let out a warning that an enemy was incoming from above. Glancing up as he tried to maneuver out of the way, he saw one of the bipedal machines speeding towards him, a sword with crackling electricity in one of the bulky machine's hands and a boxy weapon in its other. It was coming too fast for him to dodge fully, and one of his wings was cut completely off.
As he wrestled with the controls, the Turian realized he wasn't going to be able to recover full control over the fighter. So he decided to ram his craft into the enemy capital ship. However as he neared his target, his craft was stopped by a strange energy, and pulled into one the behemoth's hanger bays. Once his ship was forcibly landed, Tarquinius was met with the sight of what looked like smaller versions of the machines outside, and for a fanciful moment as they escorted him to a brig he imagined that these were the immature versions of the giants outside…In actuality, they were just Trooper Phase II mechs stuffed in a Mk X look alike shell.
Wrath of the Legion: Lower Decks
Tactical Squad Tigris had boarded what the sensors had indicated as the personal ship of the "Primarch" of the Turians. The title had earned some derision among the Legionaries, no one but the sons of the Emperor were worthy of that title.
The ten Legionary squad had landed near the engines on the opposing ship, where they made short work of the engineering crew with gladius fire, or just plain fire in the case of one of the weapon specialists. They then split up, one heading for each of the ten decks on the ship.
Even with them being split up, the tactical Legionaries were able to easily clear each deck. No weapon brought against them was even able to breach their shielding; even the odd xeno who used disrupter ammo was unable to really damage the attackers' shield, due to the improvements to the armor made after the weakness was discovered on Shanxi Primus.
As the less populated decks were cleared, the Legionaries started to converge on decks still not cleared as they made their way towards the bridge of the warship. Though as they did resistance stiffened against their advance; the "Praetorian Guard," the best of the Turian military assigned to protect important officers and political figures, held their ground and fought to the death.
Despite the fact that the Praetorians were given the best armor and weapons the Turian experimental warfare division, including "lightning" cannons (which were essentially heavy machine guns that unleashed a torrent of sand size rounds down range, and fired electricity between the rounds); they were little more than speed bumps to the Legionaries, volkite rounds in particular shredded whole platoons through their special "deflageration" effect…Though the good old fashioned flamer was also able to clear whole choke points with a single burst of promethium.
When they reached the bridge, it was locked down. But that didn't matter, as one of the squad members squared their shoulders, and charged straight THROUGH the wall, unknowingly replicating a certain pitcher in early tv advertisement. For a moment, there was nothing but silence as the defenders struggled to come to terms with what just happened…Then the Legionaries moved.
Within seconds the bridge crew, and Primarch Julius himself, had been captured. The boarding action was highly successful, the enemy chain of command was decapitated, and over a thousand Turians lay dead. Squad Tigris egressed back to the hanger of the old dreadnought, and after extracting via an automated shuttle Corax had sent, activated the self-destruct on the boarding torpedo, causing the ship to vaporize…Their prize, the supreme commander of the Turian military and his staff, aboard.
Section D: Reactor Room Entrance
"…1783. 1784. 1785. 1786." Sariel shouted, the assault cannon that was mounted on his arm began to glow white hot, the barrels nearly getting to the point of melting. Thousands of rounds had fallen out of his assault cannon, creating a carpet underneath him. He was lucky that the miniature generator that was active within the cannon was actively making hundreds of rounds per second, trying to keep up with the terminator's godlike rate of fire. He idly listed out the gibbed remains of the xenos operators and soldiers that tried to stop his brothers from finishing their task.
The team of four was now down to three, one of the docked dreadnoughts had opened fire with their broadside guns, killing Malkon. Sariel never liked his team mate, the smug piece of shit that he was (being a scout one day and a Terminator the next has a habit of making people egotistical), but seeing him go down to such inferior foes didn't exactly make him happy either.
"...1791." He reported back on the vox, gunning down another squad of Turians. Truly, tactics had been thrown out of the window and now they were desperately trying to stop the Raven Guard from achieving their goal…And mobs of Turians charged forward to their deaths.
Sariel called out over the vox: "Hurry up the sabotage brothers! I do not think I can hold for much longer!" This comment was due to the assault cannons barrels MELTING. Molten hot metal began to drip from the barrels, billows of steam erupting from the core processor…rendering his weapon useless.
He blinked once as he saw a clump of what appeared to be grenades was thrown in his direction. Sariel turned away, as the assault cannon, critically weakened with its critical systems exposed, exploded. He roared in anger and pain, as his entire forearm was blown away by the explosion, exposing a weakness in the armor. Such a weapon as the relic assault cannon he wielded was never meant to endure this much use, especially this constantly.
He turned away, as another batch of grenades exploded, shielding his vulnerable area…though to his surprise did not coat him in a sheet of flame or shrapnel, or release toxins. Rather, it was an extreme amount of voltage that shocked his suits system, which due to the breach was no longer as comprehensively defensive, temporarily paralyzing him.
Domiros' voice broke over the vox: "Explosions have been planted... We must evacuate." Sariel growled in anger...One minor flaw in centuries old war gear, and this was the end result.
Domiros' voice once again played over the vox, a slight amount of concern detectable due to Sariel's quiet: "Brother Sariel, the bomb must not be disarmed; otherwise the operation will be for naught."
A wry chuckle escaped Sariel's lips as he lifted himself up: "Leave this place brother. I am too wounded to continue, and my armor is no longer proof against the strains of teleportation. I will hold the xenos scum here. Ave Imperator." As the Turians began to try and run past him, trying to get within the central power room, he lumbered forward, roaring like a demon.
After a second of hesitation, in which the wounded Terminator grabbed one of the heavy mechs the Turian had been using and pulped it with his power fist, Domiros replied: "Ave Imperator brother. Ave imperator."
Sariel saw his hud flash that the teleportation matrix had activated, hopefully getting both Domiros and Eriel out of the station. The Legionary quite literally butchered his way to the narrow hallway that led to the power core. The other bridges had already been sealed off by debris caused by brother Eriel's actions. The only way through was through him, and his damaged suit of armor.
He leaned his mutilated and ruined arm on the side of the hallway, painting it red, while with his power fist, he smashed it into the wall, quite literally making a barricade. His heavy duty shields protected him from the hundreds of bullets that hit him, the energy field rippling over him.
In anger the Legionary snarled: "Is this all you can muster xenos? Are you even worth the attention of Corvus Corax's sons? Are you even worth my sacrifice? I have killed thousands of your kind, and even then, you hardened balls of chitin are not even worth a single bolter shell." He added on, rubbing more salt into the wound. Suddenly, some of the xenos had an idea, as they began to shoot at his bleeding stump. The terminator did not say anything, as the bullets ripped into his flesh, lighting his nervous system in suffering; his implants registering poisons and toxins coating the rounds.
Glancing at his hud, he smilled grimly…The detonation timer was about to expire. Removing his hemet so his foes may see his disdain for them, he spat on the ground: "To hell with you."
The explosion ripped through the section of the shipyards, which when coupled with the crippled power core, resulted anything within a two kilometer radius of the explosion to be vaporized. Sariel's last thoughts were of the grim satisfaction that he had taken nearly two thousand of these creatures with him by his own hands.
The results of the Terminator assault on the Palaven shipyards resulted in the entire complex being fractured into hundreds of thousands of fragments, and millions of dead aliens. All for the comparatively "light" cost of thirty dead terminators from the old Raven Guard.
Surface of Palaven: Outside of Defensive Battery Herakles
Herakles was one of four massive anti-orbital defensive positions on the planet of Palaven. It dominated the northern hemisphere of the planet, and protected the capital from orbital bombardment. Armed with dozens of massive mass accelerator cannons designed to destroy any warship currently in service with the citadel or the Terminus warlords, shorter range AA emplacements, and multiple defensive bunkers it was pretty well defended; especially as the Capitol Legion was garrisoned fifteen minutes away.
But fifteen minutes was not something they had. The "Raven Wings," Shrike's personal squad of assault Legionaries, had decided to disable the battery, as a practical example to the Turians that they could strike with impunity at whatever target they wanted.
After landing via drop pod, the squad had employed jump-packs to rapidly close the three miles between their landing zone and their target. AA fire had lashed out at the marines from the complex, and while it was slightly more effective that small arms fire, it was the difference between a pea and a pebble being thrown at an armor plate.
Landing in the compound, the Legionaries set about their grisly, but extremely easy, business of massacring everyone in the base that attempted to fight them. Melta and plasma bombs destroyed entire bunkers, incinerating squads and platoons in seconds. Power weapons tore through armor like wet paper, each strike from the veterans claiming multiple lives.
The assault was over in less than five minutes, dead Turians lay in heaps where desperate last stands were made. The few soldiers intelligent enough to surrender had been allowed to leave, and were told to run VERY fast. They had covered three miles when the facility they had manned was destroyed in a "clean" nuclear detonation.
Similar strikes had occurred all over the system, and now Palaven lay virtually defenseless.
Asari Cruiser: Gaze of Goddess
The departure of the Gaze had been slightly delayed, as Matriarch Benezia had to finish a lecture she was giving at the famed Thessia Academy. The cruiser was making phenominal time, due to their advantage in speed thanks to the Prothean beacon in the Temple of Athame, estimates placed their arrival within another two minutes.
As such the captain, one Rehea Januva (the daughter of an Asari and a Turian), alerted the Matriach of their imminent arrival at the Turian homeworld. Benezia arrived shortly after, just in time to see the Palaven system as they first exited the relay.
The Asari had expected to see the orderly and well defended system the Turian capital was renown as. They expected to see the six battle fleets the Turians had gathered for this expedition waiting for their arrival before getting under way.
They saw none of that. Instead what they saw was a warzone. The mighty Turian armada had been destroyed, the shipyards were in ruins, the defensive satellites had been eliminated…and mushroom clouds were visible where defensive batteries were positioned. To top it all off a massive warship dominated Palaven's orbit.
Doing the only logical thing their cruiser would be capable of, the captain ordered a channel be opened for the Matriarch to speak. Taking a second to compose herself, Benezia began the first diplomatic contact between the powers of the Citadel, and the Imperium.
Next time: 314: The Negotiating table
Codex: Imperial Legion formation
While each Legion of the Imperium has its own specialization; the Space Wolves, the Emperor's Executioners, for instance specialized in brutal close quarters fighting and extermination, also raiding to a lesser extent…While the Imperial Fists were experts in defensive battles and erecting defenses, with a minor in siege assault…They share similarities in their structure and the missions they can carry out.
At the top of the Legion chain of command is the Legion Commander. The man, or woman as the case may be with each Legion, in charge, they are the best strategist and tactician in the Legion. Usually they are also one of their best fighters, so that they don't need to be protected unless the situation is drastic. They are also given custom wargear to better facilitate command and control, as well as increase their survivability, a decision taken due to lessons learned during the Chaos War, when entire fronts collapsed when key officers were assassinated.
The officers bellow him depend on how large the Legion is. Larger Legions, like the Dark Angels and the Sentinels of Tera, have Legatuses, in charge of multiple Battalions; while smaller legions, like the Raven Guard and the Thousand Sons, have Colonels, who are in charge of only a single battalion.
A Battalion, much like the larger Legions, is a fluid organization size wise. It can be anywhere from two chapters, all the way up to ten chapters. Each battalion can operate semi-automatously from the main Legion if necessary, and are able to prosecute smaller scale engagements with ease.
Each chapter starts off at ten companies strong, each company numbering one hundred, and led by a Legion Captain. However, it can increase up to three times that size if necessary. Some chapters have sub specializations, for example in the Raven Guard the "Falcon" Chapter specializes in, ironically given their name, First World War Stormtrooper tactics.
And each Company is led by a Lieutenant, usually a veteran fight who leads from the front. Much like the old days there are various types of companies: Devastator/Heavy Weapons, Assault, Tactical, Terminators, armor, and recon…and even more variants depending on the Legion…The Warhounds have the "Mastifs," a unit type that harkens back to the bad old days, as they are berserkers…However unlike the ones of the World Eaters, who relied on the butcher's nails and the power of Khorne, the Mastifs are trained to control their anger until it's needed…at which point their rage is released in a killing frenzy that will only end when their foe or the Legionary, is dead.
One important thing to remember is that because of the flexibility of a Legion formation, they are prone to forming ad hoc detachments to deal with certain situations. If a city needs taking, a detachment of Imperial Fists might join another Legion; if a high value target needs to die, the Raven Guard may send a sniper to deal with the problem…And on a Legion level "kill teams" emulating the Deathwatch, which still exists (albeit as an arm of Imperial Intelligence), may be formed to deal with crucial assignments.
Codex: The State of the Western Front
For almost six years now, the Western edged of the galaxy has been a near constant warzone. If it's not giant bugs from outside our galaxy, it's armies of robots, and if it's not robots it's some other xeno race with their eyes set on the territory the Imperium controls.
If not for the superior, and evolving, technology of the Empire and the steely resolve of it's soldiers, the galaxy would have been overrun multiple times by now…For no other race could withstand the tidal wave of enemies bearing down on them…Uncountable BILLIONS of attackers break against their fortresses near daily, only to be pushed back, or crushed after making a toe hold in the galaxy.
The constant waring on the front is wearing though, and units are constantly rotated in and out of combat every few months. If it wasn't for the vast war droid armies that have replaced the unusable cloning technology and the might of the Legions, the Empire would have fallen in its infancy…The early victories have paved the way for the modern Imperium though, and every day they grow stronger…but so are their enemies.
Review please and thank you