Purple lightning crackled, descending over Tycho Brahe.
The multi-melta cannons of the attack bikes roared, torrents of molten fire engulfing the Dark Skitarii's spiked armor.
As dust cleared, the Dark Skitarii were isolated into separate pockets.
Land Speeders swooped down, crashing into the Dark Mechanicum lines like noble knights charging on horseback.
Adim Protos, the Dark Mechanicum Magos, raised his skull-staff, spitting a stream of scrapcode.
The attack bikes, racing past, suddenly froze, as if braking.
Then, they roared back to life.
The machine-spirits of the military systems had severed their connection to their creators the moment the scrapcode had infected them.
Emperor's Children. Protos's gaze swept over the purple-gold warriors descending from the sky, their jump packs trailing fire.
"Vespasian."
Vespasian slammed to the ground. His eyes swept over the blasphemous constructs around him.
Their towering forms were not much shorter than an Astartes.
Crackling energies seemed to pulse within them.
They were hybrids of flesh and machine. Their stench reminded him of the fallen Emperor's Children.
He opened a comm channel, ordering his Honour Guard: "Maru Skara formation. Unsheathe!"
The Emperor's Children viewed war as a necessary means to perfection. They sought to master every Imperial tactic, adapting them systematically, then executing them flawlessly under precise command.
Among the countless formations and tactics, their favorite was the "Maru Skara," the killing blow. It originated from a legendary dueling style from Europa, the recruiting grounds of the Legion's veterans before their Primarch's return.
"Maru Skara" required the duelist to seize the perfect moment, break the opponent's guard with swift footwork, then deliver a single, decisive blow.
This battle-ritual had two variations: Unsheathe and Sheathe.
Unsheathe emphasized rapid maneuver.
The Lord Commander's Honour Guard activated their jump packs, leaping into the air, trailing fire.
They raised their bolt pistols, firing at the grey armor.
Diamond-hard shells traced perfect arcs, hammering the shield wall.
With a roar, the grey spiked armor shattered.
The Honour Guard descended the moment the breach appeared, their blades spinning, cutting down the enemies on both sides.
The Dark Skitarii's thick shield wall was torn apart by the Unsheathe.
Vespasian landed, his gleaming blade shrieking against the spikes.
The disintegration field of his master-crafted power sword tore through the reinforced flesh, severing the pulsing red veins.
He flicked his blade in disgust, scattering the slick, Laer-like flesh, and charged his next target.
He looked out. Purple-gold figures moved with a swiftness that surpassed their usual grace, lunging at the blasphemous constructs, venting their fury.
They were eager to punish the traitors.
'Lucius was right. We are warriors, not messengers.'
As Vespasian thought, he saw a figure in a tattered robe slipping back.
He leaped, charging the traitor with the twisted staff.
A crimson light flashed from the mechadendrites on Protos's back as he saw the ornate-armored Vespasian charging him.
He raised his skull-staff, aiming at his mag-lev train.
The train shuddered like writhing flesh. Black spikes, like lances, wreathed in crackling lightning and terrible howls, shot towards Vespasian.
Vespasian swung his sword at the oncoming spike. At the moment of impact, it exploded.
Boom!
His ornate armor was scorched black. He was hurled back.
He bent his knees, dragging his power pack to steady himself.
He weaved, spikes streaking past him.
Boom, boom, boom!
As the smoke cleared, Vespasian looked into the distance.
The strange train, roaring and spewing black smoke, was fleeing at speed.
"My lord, shall we pursue?" his Captain asked, hovering beside him.
"No!"
"Our primary objective is Tycho Brahe's munitions depots. We need those weapons to strike the traitors." The Lord Commander said.
He opened the high-frequency channel, checking the reports from his companies.
[The 14th Company's lightning assault on the Ismenius Lacus region prevented the rebels from launching virus bombs. One million two hundred thousand lives in Rune Vinacius's forge were saved.]
[The 19th Company's surprise attack on the hidden missile silos in the Cassini crater complex succeeded in capturing the atomic launch facilities, preventing the launch of one hundred missiles, and thwarting the rebels' plan to bomb Archmagos Ahotep's engine manufactory.]
[The 23rd Company's aerial wing destroyed the highway between South Noctis and the Dorsa Bythea region, delaying the Legio Magna advance on Magos Matthias Kevlar's forge. The Solar Auxilia's largest weapons factory survives.]
After reviewing all the battle reports, Vespasian opened his command channel.
"28th Company, mark the Legio Magna."
"26th Company's Techmarines, coordinate with Magos Ahotep immediately. Launch missiles to blow those traitor Titans to scrap."
After issuing a series of commands, Vespasian walked towards the wall.
"I am Tycho." The Magos raised his staff of office.
He remembered Arkhan Land's words. He had doubted the Archmagos's claims.
But now, the Emperor's Children, descending from the sky, had made him believe.
Arkhan had told them Fulgrim had betrayed the Imperium.
Tycho looked at the purple-gold warrior. "Tycho Brahe thanks you for your aid."
"Are you here on Lord Nareth's orders?"
Vespasian paused. 'They too know Lord Nareth will provide aid.'
He remembered Lucius's words as their fleet had crossed the firing lines of Mars's warring factions.
"I owe my escape from the Warmaster, our father, Mortarion, and their vile plots to Lord Nareth."
"Going to Mars, aiding the loyalists in this civil war, is also His command."
Vespasian thought. 'Lucius's strategic objectives were also from Lord Nareth.'
'Does Lord Nareth possess prophetic powers? Did He foresee all of this?'
He gathered his thoughts. "Yes. We are here on Lord Nareth's orders to aid you."
"I will provide you with all the weapons and ammunition I possess, so long as they can be used to strike down the Fabricator-General and his followers." Tycho said, his voice laced with hatred.
Vespasian's comm-bead buzzed. After listening, he said, "Of course." He pointed into the distance.
Tycho followed his gaze, watching missiles streak across the sky.
Archmagos Matthias Kevlar's voice echoed through Zeth's noosphere: "The Legio Magna is destroyed."
"The Machine God's fury has torn apart the traitor God-machines."
"I helped the Emperor's Children set their targets." Ahotep's voice followed.
"By the Machine God, what is that?" The voice of the Guardian of the Schiaparelli Repository suddenly rang out.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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