AN: Ok, so, this was a fair bit of work, not going to lie, I'm not sure if I nailed the Space Wolves just right, but I did the best I could. Same thing for Russ, but I figured that his characterization was rather close. You'll notice that I didn't bother with any accents, mostly because I'm pretty sure that would just end up turning the story into a clusterfuck.
Anyway, before we begin, I just wanted to answer that the members of the Storm Wardens look like the Wolves and the Bears from Too Human.
I love that game, so what?!
So, moving onwards, enjoy the chapter!
XXX
Growling, Leman Russ grabbed a hold of the nearest railing even as his ship rocked and rolled from impact after impact. The Void Shields of the Hrafnkelwere holding under the onslaught of the enemy vessel, but only just. If the larger, 22 kilometre long Battleships got involved in the shooting rather than just sitting back and throwing more of those explosives at them, then Russ had his doubts that they would manage to hold. Still, even as more of his Sons deployed to the surface of the planet, he couldn't help the growl that boiled out of his throat.
They had offered these lost Humans the chance to join the Imperium of Man, to submit to the rule of the All-Father and survive the experience. Instead, these Humans had spat on that offer and told them to 'fuck off', however, the greatest insult was when they told him the name of whom they had sworn their loyalty to.
The Aesir Collective.
Rage boiled within him as he ground his teeth together.
Those Arrogant Whelps dared call themselves Gods!?
Keeping his anger in check, he turned to one of his sons, Wolf Lord Bulveye, as he spoke, his tone mixed with rage and anger at these fools for their arrogance, something he could see reflected in many of his Sons.
"What's the status of the landings?" Russ demanded as the Wolf Lord turned to him and bowed his head in submission to the Great Wolf.
"Slowly, Great Wolf, the Whelps are putting up more of a fight than we thought, their guns are defense guns are ripping any ships but the Hrafnkel that tried to make for planet fall." His Son reported dutifully as Russ raged and seethed at the news. Still, he was a Primarch, and even in the depths of his rage, he was still able to carry out his duty and consider his next course of action with the wisdom and experience that such a position granted him.
"Have the most of the ships pull back and commence long-ranged bombardment of the Whelp fleet, try and take out those damned mines along with a few more of their ships. Have the Shipmasters target the enemy Battleships especially. The Hrafnkel will cycle around and pull reinforcements from the fleet before dropping them down to the planet while other ships provide support either with long range fire or by close-in support. Have the Cog-heads go with the first fresh wave to start building a breach head for more forces to land." He commanded, knowing that a close-range space fight would favor their enemies, as it already had.
They had come with a full fleet of thousands of ships, filled with members of the Imperial army, the Mechanicus and of the Space Wolves, dozens of Battle Barges and Battleships making up the core of the fleet and two orders of magnitude more escort vessels. The enemy fleet numbered barely a fraction of that; five Battleships, forty Cruisers, a few hundred Destroyers and what looked like over six hundred skimmers of some kind. And yet, for all that, their enemies had dug in deep and refused to move, their shields holding strong against some of the most powerful barrages the Void had ever seen while the return fire was unnervingly accurate, with a high rate of fire and with a devastating power behind it that left most ships as little more than floating hulks of metal, ripping through their Shields as though they weren't even active.
It was easy to see that the Whelp ships could also punch well above their weight class. Cobra-Destroyers were swatted aside by the Skimmers of the enemy while Cruisers and Battlecrusers were ripped to pieces by their Destroyers while their Cruisers were ripping through Battleships with arrogant ease. However, the worst part of the Void battle had to be the Battleships...
So far, those massive ships had done little more than stand guard over the planet, taking pot shots at any ship that got too close, but those shots had never failed to sink even Battle Barges and Battleships with a single shot, usually snapping the backs of entire squadrons that got too close while return fire was utterly ignored by the immense shields of the Whelp ship or shot down before impact by defensive weapons. Not only that, but the damned things were throwing out a virtually unending tide of self-guided mines that were seeking out the vessels of his fleet and destroying them with a tide of explosions and metal.
Growling as he watched yet another ship die, having strayed too closely to the enemy fleet, and having been cut in half by another one of those blue lances that came from a Battleship, Leman Russ looked at the planet and ground his teeth together.
If they could force the compliance of the planet, they would be able to force the ships to surrender by holding the natives at their mercy. If they crews of those ships had even a shred of honor, they would comply.
"Assemble my Varagyr and have them meet me in the hangars! Have a Stormbird ready for my arrival when I reach there, I am heading down to the planet to face these Whelps and show them the true might of the Wolf!" The Primarch commanded as those around him saluted with their heads bowed, gleeful anticipation of their Primarch's fury being unleashed was written on their faces as they shouted their acknowledgement as one.
"As you will it, Great Wolf!"
XXX
"Take out those damned flyin' Bastards! Blow them from the skies!" Shouted Wolf Lord Hvarl Red-Blade as, once more, the advanced soldiers of the Whelps went in for another pass over them, flying on Anti-grav hoverboards, trailing a long tail covered in spikes and tipped with what could only be a Power blade. Firing Bolters at the nuisances, even as missiles raced after the nimble bastards, the damned things, even given how exposed the pilots of them were, were surprisingly durable as each of them seemed to possess a personal shield that only made them harder to kill. It was actually rather understandable to have such a thing, especially given the fact that the pilots of the damned things seemed to greatly enjoy using their wing-mounted blades, the tail blades, and arm-mounted Melta weapons at close range to sow confusion.
"Get down!" The Wolf Lord heard before it was followed by an accompanying series of thumps. Looking over, he saw the helmets of six of his Brothers, their heads still inside the helmets as blood flowed into the dry dirt below them. It was a humiliating end, one that didn't suit the Sons of Russ all that well, but it served its purpose in enraging the Wolves further. Turning, the Wolf Lord snarled at the closest Tech-Priest.
"How much longer until the Breach is secured!?" He demanded as he lifted the Tech-Priest up with one hand, the heavily converted cyborg not even weighing a thing to the enhanced muscles of the Astartes.
"Impossible to say, Lord Astartes. The work crews and Servitors are working as fast as they can, but the continued attacks are thinning their numbers. Best Estimate to completion is sometime within the next six days." Obviously, that was not the answer that Space Wolf was looking for, as his Power Armor-clad hand locked around the throat of the cyborg.
"Six Days!? Are you mad!? We need those damned defenses up NOW!" He snarled at the Cog-boy before throwing them to the ground, disgusted by the amount of time it would take, not to mention being enraged by the fact that more of his Brothers would die in the days ahead.
"Warning! Artillery bombardment incoming!" The warning sounded out as all those within hearing distance of the speaker suddenly sprinted for cover as artillery shells started raining down. Over the last few hours, the Space Wolves had already experienced seven such bombardments, all of them deadly and having caught them off guard when they abruptly stopped before continuing. Of course, that wasn't what made these bombardments so dangerous, no, what made them dangerous was the choice of shells being used.
Suddenly, as they all ran back for the cover of thick plate of Ceramte that had been built in response to the bombardments, they watched as the shells landed and started detonating all over the place, exploding in miniature spheres of super-heated plasma that burned craters into the ground, covering the dry, sandy soil with pits of molten glass. Of course, simply Plasma weapons were not the only thing being thrown at them, much to the hatred and anger of the Space Wolves.
An example of that was the massive shells that exploded into a cloud of shimmering, black smoke that settled rapidly into what could be considered paint. Originally, the Space Wolves had laughed at this as they thought it was some poor attempt to cripple their ability to operate by removing their vision from them.
There laughter and jeers had lasted all of eleven seconds before they watched as those covered by the 'paint' were eaten alive by it, the insidious substance eating right through their sacred Power Armor before tearing them apart, ripping flesh from bone before it kept on going. Some victims had been utterly consumed by the Black Mist, as it had been come to be known as, little more than a pair of Ceramite boots remaining of them, others were more 'fortunate', the Black Mist having stopped as it left their organs exposed to the elements and took limbs from them, often leaving them so crippled that it would be a miracle if they lived to be implanted within a Dreadnought. The Cog-heads had yet to discover the means by which it worked, but many of them believed that, once they got the Void Shield online, it would stop being an immediate threat to the Breach head.
Somehow, the Wolf Lord has his doubts, especially as it seemed that, despite being a bunch of Whelps calling themselves by a name they had no right to, they had a seemingly endless bag of nasty tricks, with few hang-ups about deploying them as they wished.
And, as he glared at the impact craters, he found himself dreading what came next.
"AARGH!"
"Kill the Whelp!"
"Hold him still! I can't get a clear shot!"
"To Helheim with this! For the Great Wolf!"
The Wolf Lord turned his head as he looked in time to see more of his Brothers fall, not to the Artillery shells, but to an armored figured in black armor, covered with a black and gold trimmed cloak and holding a staff that cleaved through Space Marine armor like it wasn't even a challenge. Return fire did nothing as a Shield defended the Whelp while he turned around and unleashed a bolt of blue flames from his hands, burning through more of the Wolf Lord's Brothers as some of them pulled back, hoping to use distance as their shield against this... Thing.
It offered no such protection as the staff seemed to fall apart, lines of silver thread holding the three pieces together before the Whelp threw it, the segmented staff extending far more than it had any right to before making impact with the first Space Wolf. The staff didn't even falter as it simply kept on going, slicing through Battle-Brother after Battle-Brother until only the dismembered remains of the once proud group of Space Wolves remained. Standing alone under that shelter, the Whelp seemed to take in its handy work before nodding to itself, turning, it locked eyes with the Wolf Lord and held up its staff, pointing straight at the Space Wolf in an unspoken message that all understood.
You're next.
XXX
From his perch, Wolf Trooper Commander Jax Domisic looked down at the chaos that was happening before him with a smile on his face. The Aesir Ravens had already been doing one hell of a good job, slicing into the Invader forces and cutting them to pieces, and with the constant barrages of Plasma and Nano-shredder shells raining down on them, they were too scared to even stick their heads out to try and pick a fight. Sure, Jax could see that more enemy reinforcements were incoming, but that hardly mattered. Yeah, using his mask's built-in magnification system, he could see that out of the hundreds of transports that were coming down, only a few dozen of them were actually going to make it to the Breach.
Still, Jax knew that those numbers would still have a serious impact on how the battle for this planet was fought.
Sensor reports, beamed straight to any Trooper that wanted them, told him that the smaller transports were all loaded with more of the Augmented Invaders, at least a hundred per transport with one, the central transport, holding only half that number. Other transports were big, boxy things that seemed to contain a few crude Battle Titans, their designs were basic, internal systems being utter shit and the only thing that was really going for it was that it had a lot of half decent guns. Still, the Titans of the Aesir were much better.
"We going to call in another artillery strike?" The question came from a figure next to him, turning, he saw Wolf Trooper Galvin Banks, the marksman of the his Wolf Pack, made up from him, Galvin and another thirteen others that all shared the same duties, all of them being natives to this world and hoped to make the Invaders bleed before throwing them out. All of them were dressed similarly to him, a grey, Cameoline-coated overall made from a dispersive nanotube mess laced with a ceramic polymer and insulated with enough smart padding that you'd be unable to everget cold in them. Over that, they wore black armor plates made from Ceramite that covered their vital spots along with a harness around their legs and arms to help them move more swiftly, an exo-skeletal system. Rather basic stuff, but certainly better than what Jax noted that the normal Humans in the Invader army had, those that weren't techno-zombies or Cyborgs at least.
"No, let them land and give them a bit of breathing room. We'll call down another one after they've had time to settle in. HQ already got back with an estimate of how long it will take them to get their defenses up, even with the help that just arrived, their looking at another three days of work. Not to mention the fact that we hold the high ground." Jax finished with a smirk as those in his squad smirked and snorted in amusement. It was true after all, the invaders had landed in a massive section of lowland, surrounded by cliffs on all sides and with only five ways up, all of which were being heavily fortified, blocked or both, as he spoke.
"Fair point." His second conceded as Jax went to stand up.
"C'mon, We should find another position, if only because I don't want to be here if those idiots finally do manage to move out of their little breach head."
XXX
"Place three more Wall fortifications here, here and here, follow that up with deploying another five AA turrets and two Smart-turrets and move two companies here. That should ensure that the Imperials find no weak point." Commanded the Aesir Hecatonchires as she worked, her armor looking much like those worn by the Sleipnir, but different, covered in thicker plating and given the added bonus of six mechanical arms, each tipped with a series of tools that would allow her to do her job.
For Senior Hecatonchires, Beta Grade, Balda, that job was ensuring that all the fortifications along the cliff faces looking down on the lowland known as Dead Man's Bowl were locked down tight, something that she was more than happy to do as she worked to plan out the necessary defenses. Truthfully, the situation was rather easy to see; The Invaders were stuck in the bowl, Air defenses wouldn't let them fly out so that would mean they would have to march on any of the five exits, something that was easier said than done. Especially with Marauders and Smart-guns raining an unpredictable shower of artillery shells down on their heads. Glancing around, she saw a Rexus start moving the pieces into place, it's massive arms easily holding each of the Wall fortifications with ease as it placed them down.
Walking over to one, one of her robotic arms reached out, the triple jointed arm moving easily through the air before connecting into the access port, brining the machine to life. An instant later, the machine came to life, bolts shooting out from below the small Hexagonal prism before it rapidly rose into the air, beams of energy linking it with the other, nearby, Walls before something moved around. Following that, like a shutter, metal shifted before unfolding into sheets that connected, locked into place and then forced themselves into the ground, locking themselves into place. Two Walls connected within seconds, forming a metre thick wall made from an outer layer of Black Plate almost 25 centimetres thick on either side while the inside of that was rapidly filled with a honeycomb made from a carbon-nanotube mesh inflating like a balloon to fill the space. What space that remained was filled with an advanced aerogel to allow for a high tolerance for temperatures.
Looking up, Balda saw the top of the wall, some ten metres up, before moving over to one of the empty sections of wall. As she approached, her thoughts were translated into actions as her lower two arms unfolded from her back, both of them being much the same as the previous one, ending in a four fingered hand with each finger arranged around a central point. Suddenly, those central point's opened to release a spray of black particles that got to work, a swarm of neural-controlled nano-machines that would allow Balda to work. Within moments, the base of an elevator had been formed as she started to move up, building more and more of the needed structure to allow for weapons to be moved up.
All around her, she saw other Hecatonchires working to build walkways out of Black Plate, emplacing automated AA turrets after getting the help of a Vanir to lift them into the air before placing it back on to the platforms. Within half an hour, that new section of Wall was fully fortified and was already being put to use as the Wolf Packs of the Storm Wardens, accompanied by their Bear Heavy Weapon and Close Combat Specialists, went to work bringing ammo, power cells and spare weapons to defend these walls.
Standing to one side, Balda finished working on a new turret, a Smart-gun designed to use magnetic rails, Accelerator chambers and a Gravimetric pulse engine to launch projectiles any number of different ways. The one she was working on was set to act as a direct fire asset that would fire on any target that came within range. Ammo was already being feed into the machine even as she finished her work on the barrel, looking like someone too one of the cannons from a Marauder and put it on a swivel turret, even as she noted what the ammo types were with a smile.
Airbursting Nano-Shredder capsules, Plasma warheads, Grav-implosion warheads, and more than a few Cluster Tick bombs.
Balda smiled cruelly at those last ones, they were a favorite of hers, had been after she saw some in action during an Ork purge of Desmos III. They were canisters that detonated before, or above, a target to release a four hundred small machines, each one shaped roughly like an oval and covered with drilling teeth, propeller tracks and a small thruster at the back of them. Once activated, they would hone in on sources of vibrations that didn't have an active or passive IFF and would jump at them, their teeth capable of eating through Ceramite and would dig into the targets body before following the blood streams to the Heart. Once at the Heart, they would detonate, the end result, on Orks, had been that the target would be lucky to still have a head, or chest.
"See something you like out there, youngling?"The voice through the ODIN suddenly caused her to drop her reminiscing as she spun around to see who had asked such a question. She stopped as she saw her superior standing there. He wore much the same armor as she did, but much more heavily armed and armored, with an additional four arms that served only as weapons, each one seeming to be equipped with two Las-talons and a Plasma Carbine, the former being a weapon that had long since been handed down to the Storm Wardens while the later was a standard weapon among the Aesir.
"Nothing but sand, stone, burning heat and a dozen Invaders that are sitting there, waiting to be used for target practice..." Balda made her opinion of the situation known as her superiors sighed at that. She was not alone in her thoughts either.
"True, but they are serving a purpose by being there." The other Hecatonchires, Senior Hecatonchires, Alpha Grade, Torarr, sighed as he looked at one of his subordinates, one of many that questioned the orders from the Marshal of Kilomiz. Then again, he was just following his own instructions.
"What purpose!? They are simply sitting there! Trying to build a Breach head, and failing. Badly. Unlike in orbit, we outnumber them a dozen times over on the ground, the Ravens have also been flying near constant attack flights on them while I hear that at least a few Vanir have been working to decapitate their leadership and enrage those that escape. If we struck when they landed, then we could have utterly annihilated them!"Balda demanded through the ODIN Field, the nearby Wolf Packs being utterly oblivious to her shouting at her superior. "So why haven't we!?"
"... Finished?" Torarr asked in amusement, getting the equivalent of a huff from the slightly younger, lower ranking Hecatonchires as he continued. "Now, to answer your question; The reason we haven't yet moved in is because the Great Father has ordered it as such."Those words got an immediate, and physical, reaction from the younger Aesir, causing her head to snap around to look at Torarr.
"The Great Father...? But what would he need these primitive thugs for? I've been watching them and most of the augmented among them are little more than rabid mutts that have been going stir crazy from the near constant defensive action they've been forced to take. Why has the Great Father wished them to live?" Balda asked, unsure of anything now that the Great Father was brought into the mix.
"Indeed, I had very much the same reaction when I was told. The Marshal had given me the orders himself to look over. We were to harass the Imperials, kill them, but not exorcise them from this world. We were to build up an encirclement around them, create a single area where they may be allowed to go, but no other. And, after that, we would allow them to build their Breach Head, but only to a point, continued raids are already planned to ensure that construction never truly finishes while Artillery shells are being stock piled, primarily with Void-bypass capabilities. However, one thing of note was that the end of the message mentioned that the Invictus itself was on its way." If the previous statement hadn't shocked the young Aesir, than this one certainly had.
"The Invictus... The Great Father is coming here?" She asked, her voice within ODIN was shaking from her nervous energy and sheer excitement at the fact. She was answered with a single nod.
"Indeed. And, as a side note, his message stated he was going to be bringing multiple Battle-Titans, Jormungand-class."Suddenly, under her helmet, Balda smirked as she looked towards the Imperial encampment, surrounded by dropships and dozens of wrecks, along with a few dozen half-finished fortifications built by hurried Tech-Priests.
Suddenly, Balda felt rather smug and amused about what was to come, though, she almost found it in herself to pity the Imperials.
Almost.
XXX
Stepping out of his Stormbird, Leman Russ frowned at what he saw.
All around him, he saw a wasteland of dry, dust-like earth and jagged cliff. It was a far-cry from his home of Fenris, but it was a world that had to be brought under Compliance, therefore he would do his duty to the best of his ability. However, immediately following that, he noticed the state of the surrounding lands.
Dozens of wrecks with the icons of the Space Wolves decorated the land, their armored hulls having been ripped to pieces by attackers while the corpses of his Sons lay around the firebase in piles that seemed to be filled with holes, showing the damage done to them as it almost looked like something had just... Removed parts of them from their bodies. Along with that, he saw a dozen massive plates of Ceramite having been constructed over a few surviving vehicles, one of them being a Stormbird while a few others were the craft of the Mechanicus. As he strode out from his Stormbird, his Wolf Guard around him with their weapons at the ready, he was met by another of his Sons that moved to greet him while the rest remained under cover, weapons at the ready, a lot of which seemed to be carrying heavy weapons such as Rotary Autocannons, Missile Launchers and Lascannons, their Bolters having been placed on their backs as they looked to the sky.
"It is a relief to see that you made it down from orbit in one piece, Great Father." Spoke the Jarl of For, Hvarl Red-Blade, as he went up and met his Primarch, who, in turn, nodded.
"Indeed, the Whelps certainly know how to cower behind their defenses, their magik and their fancy gadgets, but we'll win this world from them, then, we'll take the rest of their puny, little empire from them." Leman Russ stated as he noted the Titan transports landing nearby, the massive, boxy machines having been covered with gouges and craters from whatever weapons were fired against them, but they were still in one piece, along with their cargo.
One Warlord-class Battle Titan, two Reaver-class Battle Titans, five Warhound-class Scout Titans.
"What of the attacks? How often do they come?" Russ questioned as he turned away from the transports.
"There is nor rhythm or rime to their attacks, they merely come when they wish, attack, kill, before they disappear back to where they came from. Artillery attacks also either come before, during, or after such attacks, usually with a rain of Plasma weapons along with the Black Mist." Hvarl explained, drawing a raised eyebrow from unknown name that he had heard.
"Black Mist?" He asked, curious about what could deserve such a name.
"It is a weapon that the Whelps use, it explodes from the shells it lands in, like smoke before settling on anything around it, looking like black paint for a moment. We first thought it was some attempt to blind us... We found out the truth moments later when the laughter turned to screams and we were forced to watch as that 'Paint' ate through their armors and dissolved their flesh." Hvarl explained, looking off to one side in shame at failing his Brothers. Russ merely looked at him calmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You have nothing to feel shame for, Pup, you fought against them as best you could, like a real warrior, while they relied on cheap tricks and their abominations to carry the day. However, at the end of the day, we'll be the ones with this world in our grasp!" Russ explained, his tempo rising as all the surrounding Space Wolves stood up straighter, expressions of glee and excitement covering their faces, the idea of meeting their chosen enemy head on was one that they savored. They all cheered, however, as their Primarch foretold their victory.
It was an image that all the Astartes wished to see, having already lost so many Brothers to this single planet. Looking around, Russ smiled at his inspired Sons before making one last announcement.
"Rest, my Pups, rest and recover, eat well and sleep well, for tomorrow, this battle will see it's end as we march at first light!"
XXX
Sitting on my Command Throne aboard the Invictus, I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face.
I had forged an empire out of nothing, seen it stand for over two centuries with me at the helm and had seen it only grow stronger since, even without my intervention. Now...
Now I wanted to see how they would fair against the Imperium of Man. Honestly speaking, I didn't really like the Imperium, hell, if given the choice, I'd have rather gone and been an Eldar or a Necron. Fuck it, even an Ork or a Tyranid would have been better since the Imperium, even back during what I guessed to be the Great Crusade, was nothing more than a clusterfuck of shit. Seriously, the idea of an army taking over the Galaxy is something that I often laugh at, if only because of the sheer impossibility of it. Sure, the Eldar might have been able to pull it off with the Webway, but that thing had shattered like a sheet of glass after the birth of the Forth. The Necron's Inertialess Drive or their Domen gates were things that interested me, the former more than the latter, but that was besides the point.
Regardless, I'd have to play with the cards I had been dealt.
"What is the current status of the Fleet?" I asked, referring to the fleet I had ordered to gather in response to the attack on Kilomiz. It was constructed of no less than three Dreadnoughts, including the Invictus, ten Battleships, fifty Cruisers, five hundred Destroyers and over two thousand Corvettes. I had stripped out the Rapid Reaction Fleet groups of several strategic locations close to Yggdrasil in order to fill this fleet, adding the attendant fleet of the Invictus to that mess as well. All of these ships were also fully stocked with soldiers, supplies and enough weaponry to shatter multiple solar systems by itself.
And I was soon about to unleash it on the Sixth Legion.
"All reports are coming back in the green, all stations have reported that they are ready to jump at your word, Great Father." Reported Warden Saekell, he stood to one side of the room while I looked around, accessing the ship's network both through my DNI and ODIN. I smiled at what I found.
Honestly, the fleet was filled with soldiers, tens of millions of Wolf Troopers and other soldiers from the Storm Wardens while I had millions of Aesir aboard the fleet with dozens of assorted war machines, all based on technologies I had gleamed from the space hulks I had seen in my younger days. However, even with all of those, even with every detail assaulting my mind, one name stood out to me like a bonfire in the middle of a forest.
Jormungand
The Jormungand-class Battle-Titan, sometimes called a War-Titan, was a thing of beauty, a massive, serpentine war machine that was over six kilometres long, made from multiple segments with each one being roughly 250 metres long and over one hundred metres thick. The alloy skin, called Titan-skin due to its purpose and being a derivative of Black Plate, of these machines were over five metres thick, at the weakest point, while it was over fifteen at some places, all of which was back stopped with a nanite-based self-repair system, with said system drawing raw materials from a storage system using Klein Bottle-based techniques to store over several tetratons of raw materials. Thatparticular system was bulky, meaning that it couldn't be mounted on anything smaller, but I thought it was a fair trade off.
For weapons, a Jormungand was not lacking. The massive jaws were powerful enough to snap a starship in half, with teeth as large as a Rexus was long, Transonic in nature and sheathed in a Power Field, while the armored bulk of the machine itself could be used as a weapon to crush and squeeze opponents into nothing but dust. Along it's flanks were dozens of point defense systems, Ion Shields and a sectional Void Shield that ensured that no weak points were visible. The main weapons of the machine were a long series of Hyper-Fusion Cannons, mounted in a triple-linked configuration and the dual-mounted to hundreds of turrets along each flank, these things could destroy a Rexus in a single shot. However, the trade off for them was that they were short ranged weapons, knife-fight ranges, though, they were beyond powerful when used correctly. Along with this, a further hundred turrets covered the sides, these ones housing oversized versions of my Las-talons, upgraded to the size of Capital-ship Lances and upgraded with the latest technology to give it a bit more long-range fire power. Along the back of the machine, literally millions of missile launchers were hidden under armored shutters, carrying any number of payloads, but most carried potent Grav-Implosion bombs, Nano-Shredder Warheads and other, more exotic and esoteric weapons. Six Torpedo launchers were located on the head, three on either side of the jaws while two weapons of planetary devastation were hidden at the back of the throat.
The first was an upscaled Conversions Beamer, a weapon that accumulated Anti-Matter as the beam travelled, depending on the settings of the weapon itself. It was capable of reducing entire landmasses to nothing but dust with a single blast. It had done so during more than one Ork Purge of one system or another, firing down from orbit since these Titans were fully capable of moving on the Void, the air, on land and beneath the waves, a recent addition of a Power Field sheathing system to the head of the Titan also allowed it to tunnel below the earth.
Now... The other weapon... Well, I had little doubt that Big E was going to shit his pants when he saw it, if he saw it, in action.
It was an Adrathic weapons of monstrous size, I called it the Adrathic Lance, even though the official title of those types of weapons were Ruiner weapons, meaning that the official name of the weapon was the Ruiner Lance.
I'd only used it once to remove a particularly stubborn Ork infestation of a small moon around a barren world, but the results had been devastating.
Needless to say, there was no longer a moon in orbit of that particular world.
And I had built ten such machines...
Not only that, but such things were the least of the Jormungand's secrets.
XXX
From her position by the Vanir Navigators, Taenera watched as Marcus smiled, clearly looking at something of great interest, though, she was willing to guess what it was.
The Aesir Collective had been attacked less than fifteen hours ago. In that time, Marcus had already moved to gather a fleet and reinforcements to remove the attackers and force them back to where they came from. Such was the case that he had summoned all ten of his Jormungands from their Vaults beneath Asgard. Each one of those metal serpents were crafted by Marcus himself, technological wonders with capabilities that would put any war machine of the current age to shame. By Isha, the only thing those machines were missing was a Warp Drive and then they'd be unstoppable.
However, truth be told, Taenera feared such machines, as did Marcus, who was weary of using even one of them at the best of times, deploying all tenof them was tantamount to him believing that such measures had to be taken due to facing what might be considered as an existential threat to the Aesir as a whole. Then again, Taenera had been Scyring and Divining the future to see what these Imperials were like.
Needless to say, Taenera had agreed to the decision rather swiftly after seeing that.
"Alright." Marcus suddenly spoke as he stood from his Throne as he looked around the CIC, all stood at the ready and looked to him for directions. He nodded to the crew with ease before speaking.
"Get me a fleet wide communication line, I will be making an address before we Jump to Kilomiz. Also, Vanir, you may relax, I shall direct us to Kilomiz." He stated simply, the reactions were immediate and understandable. Though Marcus chose not to exercise his Psychic abilities all the time, let alone to their fullest extent, the Aesir still knew that even their strongest Vanir was leagues below Marcus in terms of power, and that was without taking into account the differences in skill and technique. To hear that Marcus fully planned to utilize his Psychic powers was seen as something akin to a once-in-a-lifetime experience, off to the side, she could see a number of the Vanir taking out Tablets to make notes on, probably planning to use this as a cross between a learning experience and a historic even that had to be recorded at all costs, right down to the barest of details. Still, if there was one thing she found funny about the situation, it was that Marcus had yet to catch on to their worship of him as an their Creator-God and Incarnation of Might, Craft, Skill and Cunning.
"The channel is ready for you, Great Father." The Warden replied, bowing deeply as Marcus nodded to the man.
"Good. Now then." With a thought, the channel was open, his words echoing through the entire fleet.
"Attention! Soldiers of the Aesir Collective! Today, we stand on a knife edge! We face an abyss on either side that might threaten to devour us whole. On one side, we have this 'Imperium of Man', an Empire built by a Tyrant who things he is the one who shall unit all Mankind into one Empire. He believes that any who refuse should be subjugated, enslaved, and lead around like hounds on a leash, he cares nothing for the beliefs of the people that are crushed under his Iron boot, taking them away and replacing them with his 'Imperial Truth'." He spoke passionately, more than a dozen Aesir in the room were mesmerized by what was being said, more than a dozen had recording devices out, some even had professional cameras out, having tucked them away, under their stations.
"On the other side, we face oblivion. To be so thoroughly crushed that not even the memory of all that we have built together, all that we have struggled for, all that we have bleed for, would be throw away, to be lost to the sands of time." He stated, raising both hands, as though offering two choices. "Those are the two options that these Imperials would have us believe, to have us see: Subjugation, no matter how beautiful the wrapper that is placed on it, with our technology taken from us, stripped away by those that don't even understand it and out culture utterly destroyed, removing our people from existence, as the death of a people is the death of its culture. Or, the other choice, oblivion, to stand against their 'might' and perish for our defiance."
Throwing his hands down, he looked around the room with an amused grin.
"Well, Soldiers of the Aesir, I don't know about you, but I feel the need to take a third option: Freedom! We shall force them out, fight them and destroy them wherever they may try to attack us from! We shall stand, unconquered and unbowed, not matter what they do! And, whatever happens, we will rise above it as one people! One race! One Voice! One Nation! Tell me, what's say you all!?" He shouted out and, as one, the fleet answered.
"We Are Aesir! We Will Not Bow! We Will Not Break!" They shouted, the volume deafening, and would have left any normal Human in the room deaf for the rest of their lives.
"Then, my Aesir, I believe that it is time for these Imperials to learn the folly of angering the Aesir." He stated before turning the communication line off. It wasn't needed as the cheering and agreement was heard clearly even through the Void between each ship. Marcus smirked as he closed his eyes and focused, an amused smile dancing across his face before he opened his eyes once more, revealing not his original eyes...
But orbs gleaming with absolute power.
Hair stood on the back of her neck as she felt his power ripping into the very fabric of reality, charging the air before weaving the newly freed energy into the very core threads of reality itself. To those with the power to see it, what he was doing was an ultimate showing of skill and power as he pulled the stitches of reality apart, carefully pulling a tear open into the Warp before it appeared. The massive rip in reality itself, like a sore wound, was not what they saw, instead, they saw a shimmering tunnel of cyan light, white light in the distance as Taenera watched.
Taenera had taught Marcus much about the ways of manipulating the energy within the Warp. However, one thing she lacked was knowledge of the Webway, she knew how to access it and how to navigate it, to an extent, but with it shattered into millions of pieces, such things were infinitely more difficult. Marcus had hoped to learn how the Webway was created in order either repair or replicate it, though, she hadn't been able to help in such regards, what she hadbeen able to do was point him in the right direction. Old memories of travelling through the Warp, watching Old Ones expand the Webway to create new strategic supply lanes along with methods of flanking the Necrontyr.
Marcus had taken such things and figured out a few things of his own, namely, he had figured out how to create short-lived, but incredibly calm, paths through the Warp, even taking advantage of the Warp's time altering nature to shorten journeys that should have taken months, or even years, to minutes. Of course, such a trick was costly, requiring massive amounts of power and control, not to mention knowledge, the Vanir couldn't do it due to their own lack of power, even groups of them would have great difficulties doing so. However, when used by Marcus in a way such as this...
Well, it just showed how powerful he really was, especially when he threw his restraint to the side.
Entering the tunnel, Taenera smiled.
It was not a nice expression.
XXX
As dawn came to the next day on Kilomiz, a number of things all happened at the same time.
In the void, reality was suddenly ripped open, a massive, gapping tearing forming within reality to show a cyan tunnel that spilled forth more ships of the be-leagued Aesir Collective. To the Aesir defenders, their hearts leapt into their throats as they saw the flagship of the fleet. Suddenly, the defenders redoubled their efforts, knowing that with the Great Father here, they would not lose, if only so that he would not witness their failure. Suddenly, weapons fire became more accurate, the Hunter Mines started moving much more aggressively and the ravaged Battleships, already scared from the earlier battles, suddenly became far more active participants as they opened fire on the Imperial Fleet from, what the Imperials believed, outside of the maximum range of the Aesir weapon.
To the Imperials, what they saw coming out of the Warp rift was the stuff of nightmares as they saw the monster ships leading the fleet, three, 35 kilometre long monsters, all built by the Aesir and filled with Emperor-alone knows what kind of technology. The Imperial Captains and Admirals were already having difficulty dealing with the Aesir ships that they believed to be the limit of Aesir ship-building, not helped by the fact that Aesir ships punched well above their weight class. Now, they were looking at something that no ship could hope to match, against one of those massive ships, even an entire fleet would struggle, against all three, plus their attending fleet, this battle would not be a battle, it would be a bloodbath even greater than it had already been.
Needless to say, the Imperials soon learned that, when it came to the defense of their space, the Aesir reaction was much like that of an immune response, and it only came with one setting.
Extremely over-cocked.
The Void stood still for mere moments before the leading Dreadnought made its move, massive plates of armor moving away to reveal a massive turret rising from the dark, metal decks, it's body larger than a Cobra-class Destroyer with a massive barrel to go along with it. A moment later, light flared through the void before a Lance of energy flew across the void before anyone could react, between eye blinks, people realized it's target and made to react, commanding ships to either act as shields or to move the target out of the way.
It was a futile effort.
The lance of energy made a complete mockery of all attempts to dodge it, moving too swiftly as space itself seemed to twist at the beam's passing. Void Shields failed to stop the beam, not shattering upon impact, but being either burned through in such a way as to not collapse the entire thing, or twisted to one side to allow the beam through, it was impossible to say. Then, the beam hit the hull of the target, Adamantium armor plating, Ceramite reinforcements, Plasteel connections and any other material that was in the path of the beam simply failed to register as any real form of resistance as the beam kept going. It blasted a hole through layer after layer after layer of armor and defenses, never slowing, never stopping, before it eventually burst out the other side, leaving a substantial hole in the target ship as it moved on, the cannon that fired the beam having long since stopped firing as the beam finally left the hole behind.
Allowing all to see the power that was held in the hands of the Aesir.
The entire Imperial Fleet paused, hesitation weighing down upon them like a physical thing, draping itself over the entire fleet. Then again, it was little wonder why they were so hesitant to do such a thing, after all, it wasn't every day you got to see a Gloriana-Class Battleship be utterly obliterated within a single shot from an enemy vessel. And, even then, most could only look on in shock and horror as the Hrafnkel was rocked back and forth by secondary explosions as life pods flew from the wreck.
Such a sight, especially for a fleet that had shadowed the Sixth Legion through victory after victory was nothing less than absolutely soul shattering. Many simply collapsed to the ground, some sobbing while others retreated into themselves in such a way that many would mistake it for a coma.
None of them would ever make a recovery, as they disappeared moments later within one of many beams of light.
Within an hour of entering real space, the orbit of Kilomiz was secure, a few Imperial ships still remaining, having been captured by order of the Great Father. No one questioned it, most simply didn't care, but a few looked at it and smiled evilly as they considered what they had learned of the Sixth from salvaged hard drives.
For such a mighty Legion to come crawling home with only a fraction of their strength, in utterly savaged ships and having lost a majority of their fleet...
Well... It would a dark spot on their history for millennia to come...
XXX
On the planet of Kilomiz, as dawn broke the horizon, the Space Wolves had already started to move.
Emboldened by the speech given by their Primarch, they had started to move at the crack of dawn, loading themselves into any vehicle that still worked, hugging the ground as they moved and racing towards the nearest exit of the canyon with their Primarch at the head of the massive convoy. However, if one looked at the collection of vehicles, their eyes would have immediately spotted the form of the massive Titans stalking around the convoy, the five Warhounds at the front, the two Reavers around either side while the massive Warlord pulled up the back ranks.
It was an impressive display, made even more so as the convoy advanced under a shower of artillery shells exploding against the Void Shields, having ripped them out from the, now decommissioned, Stormbirds and altered them to prevent the use of Black Mist or Plasma warheads from affecting those within the Shield. To the Space Wolves, it was a blessing and a good omen, one they believed would lead them to victory this day, as their Primarch had foretold.
For the members of the Aesir and Storm Wardens, it was a minor inconvience, at best. They switched over to ammo types that would bypass Void Shields moments later and, once more, started raining down explosives upon the Space Wolves. Admittedly, the alterations to the Void Shields did make them more effective at stopping the Void-Bypassing shells, but a fair number still managed to get through the Shields, dozens of Rhinos of various types were utterly annihilated, but not enough to cause them to stop and push back. The Space Wolves continued to move onwards, discarding their loses and making promises to come back 'later' to reclaim their dead, thought, such things would be entirely up for debate with the locals, who seemed none too pleased to see the members of the Sixth Legion.
Advancing through the Dead Man's Bowl, the Sixth Legion found itself under constant attack as Aesir Ravens flew over them, blades flashing and Melta-weapons firing, either cutting the head off one Space Marine or another or crippling entire vehicles and forcing them to be left behind, making them little more than target practice to the Ravens. In one example, one Raven even went through the top of a Rhino Advancer and turned into a full spin as he went over the Space Marines, cutting their heads off at the neck before carrying on, leaving a pile of corpses behind in the open-top APC. More than once, the convoy stopped to take care of their dead, placing them to one side as to not allow themselves to be slowed down while Wolves were redistributed to allow for move even firing lines.
Eventually, the Space Wolves managed to reach the cliff faces of the Dead Man's bowl, massive cliffs with natural paths cut into them by long usage and nature. The end result was a path just big enough for a Titan to climb up, if it moved in a certain way. Of course, that was only possible for the Reavers and the Warhounds, the Warlord was simply too large to try and scale the cliff face. Instead, it settled for offering fire support by blasting at the Aesir defense line built along the edge of the cliffs. The powerful weapons of the Warlord working to blast holes in the alloy walls that the Aesir had built, showing surprising durability as it needed multiple shots in the same place to break through the armor on the walls, let alone the Void Shields. Still, even as the wall feel around them, Storm Warden Gunners refused to be moved from their positions, firing at the Warlord with everything they had as its surface was crated with Plasma detonations, Grav-Implosions, Melta charge explosions and even damage taken from Airbursting Nano-Shredders that ate into the upper armor of the venerable machine.
Even as the Warlord was forced to pull back, as more and more rounds were thrown at it, the Space Wolves completely ignored the plight of their allies, advancing as directed by Leman Russ. The Primarch seeing things as it being a case of the Mechanicus had a problem with the damage to the Titan, that was their problem, not his. However, such thoughts soon meant very little to him as the first member of the Space Wolf convoy passed over the edge of the cliff face and came into view of the wall, quickly moving to one side before allowing another vehicle up. As the first vehicle stopped, a Rhino Advancer, the Astartes leapt out of the APC, jumping over the sides as they charged the broken wall with Bolters singing through the air and Power weapons hissing and steaming idly.
From the battlements of their walls, the Aesir rose to meet them, Sleipnir rising with Scimitar Mk. 21-Pattern Plasma Rifles in hand, firing bolts of Plasma that seemed to have been harvested from stars, burning the Power armor of the Space Marines, not destroying them out right, but doing damage with each shot as the distance was closed. Even then, Nilbugs were firing their heavy weapons, micro-missiles racing through the air and impacting Astartes, blowing them apart of coating them with more Nano-Shredders while their Rifle barked continuously, blowing holes through multiple Astartes with each shot. As the distance was reduced further and further, things slipped from a closing gunfight to a mass melee, something that the Space Wolves took full advantage of.
The Space Wolves fought the Aesir brutally, using their experience to devastating effect as they cut and stabbed and decapitated their opponents with practiced ease even as more Aesir rose up to join the fight, grabbing melee weapons from their armor and engaging the enemy. Still for every Marine that fell, twenty Aesir joined him, but that was not an even ratio as the Aesir gave as good as they got, the solid core of veteran Aesir especially reaping a devastating toll upon the Sixth Legion.
Leman Russ himself had to give a grudging respect to these Veterans, armored with a more decorative appearance than other Aesir, they fought like devils and made sure to sell their lives dearly. Fifteen of them arrayed themselves against the Great Wolf and, while the Primarch did win in the end, it was a brutal fight that left massive rents in his armor along with a fair number of his Wolf Guard laying dead on the ground, thanks to the inhuman coordination and strength surpassing that of an Astartes. Things only got even more complicated as Vanir War-Hexers fought a constantly shifting battle against the Casters of Runes among the Space Wolves.
In such a battle, where even Reality may become a casualty, many subconsciously moved away from the constantly shifting, and colourful, display of otherworldly power that left much of the land twisted in one way or another.
Still, even with all that, the Aesir were stretching themselves to the breaking point, more forces were moving in as multiple Rexus Assault Mechs engaged Warhounds and even struck out against the Reavers, still, in the back of the defenders' minds, many wondered if reinforcements would arrive soon.
They didn't need to wait long for their hopes to be answered as they looked up to the overcast sky. The clouds were suddenly breached by dozens of descending shapes, looking like miniature fire bolts, the Aesir instantly knew what those were even as they continued fighting, morale restored and renewed. The Space Wolves, on the other hand, initially thought it was some kind of bombardment, resulting in them retreating for a moment as Leman Russ looked on as he tried to get what remained of his forces to safety.
It turned out to be unneeded as the First of the newly arrived Aesir arrived on the planet, slamming into the ground at terminal velocity before standing, pulling out weapons and aiming them at the, greatly reduced, collection of Space Wolves as they kept their distance in turn, weapons at the ready as a silence filled the air.
That silence was broken by the arrival of a singular figure, standing as tall as Leman Russ himself, clad in black armor trimmed with deep crimson and gold, with red lenses covering the eyes, it was clear this was not some standard grunt. This only became more clear when said figure spoke.
"I assume that you are this 'Leman Russ'? Humm... For some reason, I imagined you being slightly taller." Were the first words the figure spoke, much to the anger of the Space Wolves, and the amusement of the Storm Wardens and the Aesir.
XXX
I smiled under my helmet as I looked at the snarling faces of the Space Wolves, Russ himself looked particularly murderous, but I hardly cared about him, I was confident that I could take him. Hell, I knew I could take him after scanning the area, the Psychically charged Runes on his armor were of little consequence to me, weak things that could be shattered utterly with the right application of power through just the right opening.
And I happened to see a lot of openings.
"... And you are?" Leman asked/demanded, through gritted teeth, seemingly trying to keep his temper in check. I smirked at that, pissed off people often made the biggest mistakes.
"Grimm, Marcus Grimm, at your service." I said with a dramatic bow that the Aesir behind me knew to be an attempt to enrage him further. One didn't need to be a Psyker or Vanir to know that it was working rather well.
"Cease your insecent games and speak, Mortal! Why are you here!?" Russ finally lost his cool for a moment as I looked at him, my smile gone and my eyes focused on him through my armored lenses. An air of power circled around me, filling the air with a tension of my own design as that same power weighed down on the Space Marines.
"Well, since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you." With two quick steps, I was almost nose-to-nose with the Sixth Legion's Primarch, looking him dead in the eye as I spoke.
"I want you and your Legion off this world. I want the Imperium to leave the Aesir Collective alone. I want my people to flourish and thrive in an existence where only the strong may decide who lives and who dies. However, most of all, Russ, I want to learn that there is always a Bigger Predator in this universe. And, Russ, I'm afraid that many things are much stronger and dangerous than your rabid mutts." I remarked as he snarled, reaching for what looked like a Power sword that he had sheathed by his side. I smirked as he stopped mid action, a dozen red-dots dancing across his hand, chest and head, making it clear what would happen if he drew that blade. With what looked to be an exercise of supreme effort, Russ forced down his anger and pulled his arm back from the handle of his sword.
"... And How do you plan to do that? I have a Legion in orbit along with a fleet ready to rain fire down upon this world. If it does not submit to the Imperium, it will burn. Not only that, but I have you outmatched. Your warriors, while formidable at range, handle themselves poorly within a melee. Not only that, but I have a number of Titans that stand at my beck and call. What do you have, Mortal?" He asked, calming down with each word before finishing off smugly, believing himself to be in a supreme position of strength. I smirked under my helmet.
Oh, it was going to be fun breaking this poor bastard.
"First of all, I plan to use force, if necessary, but I have my doubts that will even be needed. Secondly, your 'fleet' now numbers at less than twenty ships, none bigger than a Cruiser while every other vessel was been reduced to scrap within the Void. The rest of your 'Legion', at least, for those parts that came with you, are dead, all that remains are those that stand by you, meaning that you actual forces number less than four hundred men, while I have a few million behind me, all of which are of the same calibur that gave you trouble. Lastly, yes, I'm aware that you have Titans... Which is why I brought some of my own." I simply pointed up at that last point, Leman looked confused for a moment before he looked up. I enjoyed it greatly when I saw his eyes widening as he looked up.
Right into the glaring cyan eyes of a Jormungand.
XXX
His name was Julius Vracson, Tech-Priest and Enginseer of the Cult Mechanicus. He, along with many others like him, had been assigned to the Crusade Fleet under the command of Primarch Leman Russ, it had been a trying experience, to be sure, but it seemed that experience had finally paid off.
The Primarch had found a new Human world, one with highly advanced technologies that was also under the protection of a relatively small interstellar nation known as the Aesir Collective. The natives were given the chance to submit to the Imperium, but refused, thus leading to the attempted subjugation of the planet. 'Attempted' because the natives had put up a much greater fight than was believed possible, with the use of so many technologies, some of which the Tech-Priest had never seen before. The archaically named 'Black Mist' was one such example of new technology, a weapon that, at first, appeared harmless before it proceeded to rip its target apart with abandon. Plasma-based weapons were also common, along with Anti-grav systems as they had seen dozens of plasma-based warheads detonating in one form or another, almost destroying everyone in their blasts while other weapons of unbelievable power were brought to bear against the Astartes of the Sixth Legion.
However, that was nothing compared to what he saw before him this instant.
Looking up into the sky, he saw it. A massive, serpentine war machine, longer than any Titan, with a body thicker than even an Emperor-class Battle Titan, it's black, silver and golden bold rolling through the over cast sky as it soared through the clouds before looping around itself, forming a lazy infinity sign with its own body in mid air before looking down at the proceedings.
Then, as the 'Mortal' pointed upwards, the others finally took notice of the Beautiful craftsmanship of a favored disciple of the Machine God, many being paralyzed by its brilliance as he knew such a sight would be burned into his memory centres for of his days.
Then, the Avatar of the Machine God opened its mouth to reveal massive teeth, larger than Land Raiders, before it roared!
The sound was very much a physical thing, shaking the very earth and causing the cloud cover to be shattered, excess water being thrown around by the shockwave before it settled down for a moment before the silence was suddenly broken by the scent of Ozone and the iconic flash of a Volcano cannon being fired at the newly discovered God-machine.
"What is that fool doing!?" Julius snarled through his Vox-caster, his tone coming out harshly as he wondered that to himself, turning to regard the Warlord-class Titan as it started moving closer to the cliff face to get a better firing position.
It didn't get far.
The bolt of energy, having served no true purpose beyond attracting the attention of the Serpentine God-machine, splashed harmlessly over Void Shields that should have been on a Capital ship as the massive machine moved with an unearthly grace, turning to face the approaching Warlord with seemingly no concern. Even as more shots rained down on its shields, failing to do any damage, the Serpent-machine was had finally decided to put an end to the annoyance that was the Warlord Battle Titan and it's Princep. Opening its massive jaws, a small, nearly impossible to detect whine came from the jaws of the massive Alter to the Machine God.
What followed would be burned into his mind, as was anything to do with the God-Machines.
A Lance of utter darkness fired from within the jaws of the massive machine, firing and racing through the air before it impacted the Void Shields of the Warlord, overloading them in an instantly as the Lance suddenly caused an extreme detonation of some kind, the shockwave racing over the land as it blew over them, the Mortals taking cover to not be thrown around, but the Aesir and the Astartes simply stood through it and watched. Julius, having never taken his enhanced optics off the spectacle, watched further as the dust settled and he saw the remains of the Warlord.
It's form was utterly destroyed, it's left side was simply gone, the tattered remains of metal being visible while the rest of its body were covered in cracks and fractures large enough for them to see from their position. The head of the machine had been ripped off, simply gone while the legs looked close to snapping from their load suddenly being too much for them to take, not surprising since it looked like they had almost been torn in half.
Suddenly, the silence was ruined when, with the sound of stressing and snapping metal, the Titan fell to the ground like so many hundreds of tons of scrap metal. In the accompanying silence, only one person chose to speak, but Julius could hardly blame that, especially since he had the power to utterly annihilate them all without even noticing...
A fact highlighted when the Serpent-Machine turned back to the assembled group, jaws closed, but few had any doubts that it lacked any other weapons, given it's apparent size.
XXX
"I take it, that that should serve as sufficient proof that you are out of your depth?" I stated calmly as I looked at Russ, rage was fighting with rational thought and, from the look of it, his rage was winning. I didn't really care all that much, I had no plans to kill him, his Sons? Maybe. Him? No. That would have only worked as a bigger incentive for Big E to come knocking at my door with the full might of the Imperium attacking from every direction, something that I knew the Collective wouldn't be ready for, if only due to having to be spread so thinly to counter it.
Still, glancing around, I saw the mood. The Astartes were anxious, but gripped their weapons with purpose, still believing that they could pull something off. The few surviving members of the Cult Mechanicus had their gazes locked on the Jormungand, not surprising, but very telling that not one of them had even bothered to look away, some were even humming strange tones in what sounded like demented static. I guessed that those were prayers to the Machine God.
"... You will die for this, Mortal." I heard whispered by the other Primarch. Faster than most, his hand gripped his sword before sending it in an left-handed swipe aimed for my neck, Power Field crackling through the air as I smelt the Ozone coming off the black. I sighed minutely before I reacted, my hand reaching out as it sheathed itself in a Power field, rapidly attuned before I caught the Power sword within the palm of my hand with insulting ease, holding it still even as Russ put his entire body behind that strike. His Sons, I gripped them all, reaching into the air around them and locking it in place, ensuring that they were unable to move anything but their heads, even their Psykers, wait... Sorry, Casters of Runes were unable to get free from my grip as I blocked their connection to the Warp.
"... I suppose the old saying is true: You may be able to teach an old dog new tricks, but it seems that the reverse is false, you can't teach a new dog old tricks." I spoke as Russ snarled at the implied meaning, or for some other reason that I hadn't seen yet. I didn't care as I shifted my thumb slightly before applying just the right amount of pressure, two centuries of warfare had given me plenty of time to augment my body even further, and it showed.
The blade snapped, Leman Russ, who had been putting his entire body behind the blade, collapsed forwards without it to hold him up as I retaliated with a left hook to the face. The punch blindsided Russ, catching him in the jaw and sending him for a short flight as he performed an involuntary back flip before landing on his back, having crashed into three of his Sons in the process. I walked calmly over to where the collapsed Primarch lay, his eyes showing that he was fighting through one hell of a concussion from the hit while my sensors showed me that, for one thing, his jaw bone was fractured, barely a step away from snapping entirely. I smiled at that, as I brew my own blade, the massive weapon having stayed, more or less the same since I had first used it during the Purges of the Orks and Tyranids from the Midgard system. I held the weapon, tip ready to plunge into the neck of the Primarch and decapitate him.
For a moment, I saw something that I never would have thought I'd see in the eyes of the Space Wolves.
Fear. Pure, primal fear and terror. It was a fear for their Father, their progenitor, that caused them all to freeze rock solid and cease any attempts to escape. I smiled at that, so this was what it took to make the Sixth Legion fear? Interesting... I'd need to keep that in mind.
"I could end your life right here and right now, Russ. I could slaughter what remains of your Sons and have their decapitated heads sent back to the Imperium, along with your headless body, your head mounted on a pike next to it and a message to your Emperor. I could do many things..." Slowly, I pulled my blade back a touch, holding it, but no longer having it hover above the life-thread of the Sixth Primarch.
"However, I have something else in mind." raising a hand, the earth responded as tendrils of stone rose from the ground, transmuting into Adamantium restraints that coiled around each Space Marine and held them fast, the Tech-Priests getting a similar treatment as I disabled the joints of the God-Machines with a thought.
"You will go back to your Emperor, not as conquering heroes, but as prisoners within your own vessels, unable to do anything but rage and hate, you may get freed in time." I stated as the last coffin formed, leaving their faces or helmets bare to see. "However, you will never forget this battle. You shall never forget that I held your life, and the lives of your Sons, in my hands, and I chose to grant you Mercy."
I smiled at that, as Russ continued to rage against his restraints. I knew a bit about the man, he was a warrior, one that believed that one should die on his feet, on the battlefield and that anything less was dishonorable. However, what I had done was, perhaps, the greatest insult that had ever been dealt to the Sixth Legion, I had defeated them, almost crushed them and almost taken the life of their Primarch, but, instead, I had chosen to grant them Mercy. To them, that was an insult beyond words, a stain on their honor as it marked them as being too weak to bother killing, too defenseless as to offer the chance to a fight.
It was to be a black mark on the victory streak of the Sixth Legion, one that they would never recover from, and one that I knew would haunt them for the rest of their days.
I smirked smugly at that within my helmet.
Just as planned.
XXX
Throwing all his might against the restraints that confined him, Russ tried to get out from his entombment, failing miserably to do so as his restraints held fast, refusing to even budge a single millimetre. All around him, as Whelps carried them into one of the few remaining Imperial ships, an Apocalypse-class Battleship that had clearly seen better days, into place while the few crewmembers that remained in the ship were locked up in a similar fashion to the Astartes, but with less durable materials. It was understandable, the Mortals just wouldn't have the strength to break free.
Still, looking around, his eyes locked on to that Bastard who had done this, glaring at the blank mask of his armor as he turned to regard the Imprisoned Primarch.
"Your destination is set, Russ. Be sure to tell your Emperor that he is not wanted here." Suddenly, the blade flashed through the air and Russ felt is scrap against his neck. "This... This was a warning. The next time, I shall send the corpses of his Sons back to him... In pieces, if needed."
With those parting words, the Bastardretracted his blade and looked onwards, out of the Command bridge before his gaze seemed to focus on a particular point of space. Russ felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he watched with growing rage as the Bastard utilized his Witchcraft for some strange purpose. Suddenly, Russ saw it, a rip in reality that suddenly grew wider and wider as they watched, edged in cyan light with a glow at the end, that glow only seemed to grow stronger and closer as he watched until it disappeared, replaced with a familiar image.
Terra.
The Bastard looked at him once more, smugness radiating from him even as cyan wisps leaked through his armored lenses.
"Have a pleasant journey." He spoke mockingly before teleporting away, the scent of Ozone burning his senses before he felt the ship rumble as the portal grew larger in their vision. Within minutes, his body tingled as they entered, and passed through, the portal, leaving them with the familiar sight of Terra as Imperial ships swarmed around the planet, the garrison fleet looking like a demented hive of wasps that had just been hit with a Power Maul and were reacting accordingly.
It would be many hours before someone finally came on to the ship, heavy footsteps of an Astartes telling everyone who was coming, many of the Wolves dreaded what would happen, not liking the idea of others seeing them in such a dishonored state. Unfortunately, reality didn't wish to comply as the doors to the Command Bridge opened to reveal the white clad Luna Wolves, followed along by their Primarch, who took in the scene before him with a twitch of the lips and eyes dancing with mirth.
"Well, Brother, it seems that you are in quite the predicament." Commented Horus, as he did everything he could not to laugh out loud at his Brother's fate.
He failed after thirty seconds, followed by his Wolves an instant later as the members of the Sixth Legion alternated between trying to shrink into themselves in shame and glaring molten death at the Astartes of the Sixteenth Legion soon followed.
XXX
AN: Ok, so, that was the introduction for the Aesir to the Imperium, things went to hell and a hand basket pretty damned quick. Things will only continue to be this way, especially with what I have planned. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and, as always, feedback is appreciated.