Chapter 94: The Green Menace
The survivors of Bale IV rose from their world's frozen surface aboard heavy lifters, their faces bearing the hollow expressions of those who had witnessed humanity's limit for both cruelty and salvation.
After a thorough examination by the Fourth Fleet's medicae and sanctioned psykers, which confirmed their freedom from Warp-taint or xenos contamination, they received sanctuary within the expedition's transport vessels.
Within the Invincible Reason's primary strategium, an emergency council convened as the planet's binary stars cast their dying light through armoured viewports.
Tech-Adepts of the Mechanicus performed their sacred rituals of machine-blessing, their binary hymns echoing through the chamber as data-looms and holo-projectors reached optimal operational parameters.
Only when the last of the red-robed priests had withdrawn did the assembled commanders begin their deliberations.
The gathering represented the full spectrum of Imperial military hierarchy: Company Masters of the Dark Angels, Lord Admirals of the Naval contingent, the fleet's Senior Astropath, Auxiliary Army Generals whose regiments numbered in the millions.
The expedition's Quartermaster-General, representatives from attached Titan Legions and Knight Houses, and most significantly, members of the recently established Military Tribunals, their presence reminded all of the new order taking shape within the Great Crusade.
Even those officers currently deployed elsewhere participated through hololithic projection, their ghostly forms adding an ethereal quality to the proceedings.
"The Lord Primarch's judgment has proven absolute," Commander Seran began, his weathered features reflecting genuine admiration.
"Planet Bale IV's resistance came not from stubbornness but from knowledge of their cursed state. They refused compliance to prevent contamination of the wider Imperium."
He paused, allowing the implications to settle among the assembled officers. "Had we proceeded with conventional military action, historians would record our ignorance for millennia to come."
Applause echoed through the chamber as officers turned toward Lion El'Jonson's projected image.
The Primarch remained on Bale IV's surface, directing ground operations while participating in strategic planning through secure vox-links.
"I merely fulfilled my obligations to this expedition," Lion replied with characteristic humility, though his next words carried underlying urgency.
"The surface situation gets worse rapidly. Blizzard conditions intensify while enemy numbers multiply. I recommend speeding up these deliberations."
Seran nodded, then addressed the assembly with renewed focus.
"Intelligence reports detail a highly dangerous xenos species possessing advanced psychic capabilities. These are not primitive savages or lost human colonies but sophisticated predators that have plagued humanity since the Dark Age."
Lord Admiral Vance studied the tactical data with practiced eyes.
"Recommendation: evacuate all civilians, then authorize Exterminatus protocols. Unless they've evolved immunity to cyclonic torpedoes, planetary destruction remains our most efficient solution."
Captain-Militant Horix of the Auxiliary Army voiced agreement.
"Full sterilization prevents contamination spread. Other colonies can absorb the refugee population through standard resettlement programs."
Discussion filled the chamber until Lion's voice cut through the debate like a blade through silk. "And then what?"
Confused silence greeted his question. "Lord Primarch?" someone ventured.
"These creatures have terrorized human colonies for centuries," Lion explained, his tone carrying absolute certainty.
"Exterminatus may drive them into the void temporarily, but historical records indicate they inevitably return. Furthermore, evacuation provides no guarantee of safety, survivors often die mysteriously despite distance from their original worlds."
"What course of action do you propose?" Seran inquired, though his expression suggested he already suspected the answer.
"Complete eradication," the Primarch replied, his words carrying the finality of a death sentence. "We shall burn them from existence itself."
"What shall be our methodology, My Lord?"
"We unleash the full fury of Imperial war-craft upon this world," Lion continued, his projection flickering slightly as atmospheric interference disrupted the signal.
"Every war engine at our disposal will join the hunt. I shall personally locate their leadership and extract the coordinates of their homeworld. Then we shall visit upon them the same terror they have inflicted upon humanity's children."
The proposal found immediate support among the assembled commanders. Lion El'Jonson's tactical skill had already proven itself during the investigation phase, his strategic vision warranted complete confidence.
Orders flowed from the strategium like water through broken dams. The Fourth Expedition Fleet transformed from an exploration force to an instrument of righteous vengeance.
Within the massive vessels' hangar bays, Tech-Priests and servitor-gangs swarmed over war machines like ants attending their queen.
Thunderhawks and Stormbirds crouched at catapult rails while ordnance-loaders filled their weapon bays with death in every conceivable form. The orbital dockyards hummed with activity as the fleet's guns swiveled toward optimal firing positions.
When the bombardment began, Bale IV's tortured sky erupted in pillars of burning fury. Lance batteries reached down from the heavens like the Emperor's own wrath, their beams carving canyons through ice and stone.
Where they struck, matter ceased to exist, replaced by glass craters that glowed with leftover heat.
Squadrons of Imperial aircraft descended through the planet's atmosphere like metallic angels of death, their weapon systems painting the frozen landscape with explosions and laser fire.
Behind them came the true instruments of the Omnissiah's will, Titans whose plasma weaponry could level mountains, their god-machines stalking across the battlefield like cathedral-sized harbingers of judgment.
The entire world trembled beneath the Aquila's shadow as war consumed every continent.
Lion El'Jonson commanded this apocalypse from a forward position, his temporary headquarters bristling with communication arrays and tactical cogitators.
Green-tinted displays showed the progress of destruction across Bale IV's surface while data-streams fed his transhuman consciousness with information from a thousand sources simultaneously.
One report caught his attention: an Astartes squad, despite possessing enhanced Gene-Engine augmentations, had suffered casualties severe enough to force tactical withdrawal.
In a campaign where Space Marines carved through xenos ranks like power swords through parchment, such reverses indicated the presence of exceptional opposition.
"Target acquired," he murmured, rising from his command throne.
Outside the headquarters, gunships waited with engines warming and weapon systems primed.
Astelan, Luther, and select Dark Angels prepared for immediate deployment, their expressions reflecting the grim satisfaction of hunters approaching worthy prey.
The flight to their destination carried them across devastated mountain ranges where Imperial firepower had carved new geography from ancient stone.
Their target lay within a magnificent stone city whose architecture predated human colonization by millennia, clearly the work of some long-extinct civilization that had once called this world home.
Lion El'Jonson leaped from the gunship before it touched ground, his armored form striking the frozen earth with enough force to send spider-web cracks racing across the plaza.
His gene-sons followed with similar impact, their landings raising clouds of crystalline dust that caught the distant stars' light like scattered diamonds.
"Scanning protocols active," he announced, his enhanced vision shifting through spectrums beyond baseline human perception.
The ancient city transformed into a tactical overlay of heat signatures and energy readings, with one location blazing like a beacon against the grey-scale backdrop.
"Target confirmed. Prepare for engagement."
His sword sang to life as disruption fields activated along its edge. Without further ceremony, the Lord of Caliban charged toward his prey with the Dark Angels forming a perfect hunting formation around him.
Battle erupted with primal fury as the Sons of the Lion engaged their quarry. Lesser creatures fell beneath blessed blades, their forms dissolving into swirling snow that carried undertones of the Warp's touch.
Through this carnage strode something far more dangerous, a towering monster fifteen meters tall, its form combining bestial savagery with terrible intelligence.
"Psychic xenos identified," Lion's combat protocols announced. "Classification: Alpha-level specimen. Multiple paranormal capabilities confirmed."
"Insignificant mortal," the creature spoke, its voice carrying harmonics that bypassed the ears and struck directly at the mind.
Blood and flesh hung from fangs designed for rending, while its face, almost childlike in its roundness, became a mask of predatory hunger.
The Lion offered no response save for cold violence.
Only the need for homeworld coordinates stayed his hand from immediate execution, otherwise, this thing would have learned the meaning of true power within heartbeats.
"I have existed for millennia before your species crawled from primitive mud," the creature boasted, gesturing toward the rubble-strewn plaza. Telekinetic force seized every loose stone, hurling them forward in a lethal barrage.
The Primarch moved with speed that mocked human limitations, weaving between projectiles with superhuman grace.
As the final stone passed harmlessly by, he launched himself upward, his blade describing a perfect arc toward the creature's skull.
Reality twisted. Space folded upon itself as the xenos used supernatural translocation, appearing behind its target with claws extended for the killing stroke.
"Your doom is sealed, pathetic human."
Psychic assault struck Lion's consciousness like a tidal wave, seeking to overwhelm his mental defenses through raw force. Most beings would have collapsed instantly, their minds shattered by contact with alien malevolence.
Lion El'Jonson was not most beings.
"Mental intrusion detected," his gene engine announced calmly, his lips curving in predatory satisfaction.
"Lowering psychic barriers. Initiating consciousness analysis."
"Warning: hostile psychic manifestation imminent."
The world dissolved into streaming colors and impossible geometries as both combatants' consciousness shifted into the realm of pure thought.
Here, in the space between realities, mental strength determined survival rather than physical prowess.
"Behold the world of mind," the creature declared, its form swelling to mountainous proportions. "Here, your weapons mean nothing. Here, I am, "
Its boastful words died as shock transformed its features. The tiny human figure began expanding, growing beyond all reasonable proportion until it dwarfed even the creature's inflated manifestation.
Lion El'Jonson towered above his enemy like a living constellation, his face vast enough to eclipse entire horizons.
"What arrogance possessed you to challenge a Primarch in psychic combat?" Lion's voice resonated through dimensions, carrying the authority of one born to rule reality itself. "This presumption alone ensures your destruction."
A hand the size of continents descended, seizing the now-insignificant alien king. With surgical precision, Lion tore through its mental defenses, extracting memories and knowledge like a scholar consulting ancient texts.
Images flashed through his consciousness, a frozen world orbiting a dying star in sectors unmapped by Imperial cartographers.
Here lay the source of humanity's torment, the birthplace of creatures that had plagued his species since the Dark Age of Technology.
"Clever," Lion observed, his voice carrying grudging respect for his enemy's tactics.
"You use the Warp for movement exclusively, erasing all traces when invasions fail. No conventional force could track you to your origins."
Terror replaced arrogance in the creature's expression as it realised the implications. "But now circumstances have changed forever."
The Primarch's smile promised payback beyond the alien's darkest nightmares. "Perhaps you can imagine what fate awaits your species? Complete destruction. Every world, every ship, every trace of your existence will burn until even memory of you fades from the galaxy."
The creature struggled against psychic bonds that proved unbreakable, its attempts at escape serving only to tighten Lion's mental grip. "This is the price of opposing humanity's children."
A void of absolute darkness opened beneath the xenos king, devouring its essence in moments. In the material realm, its massive physical form crumbled into swirling snow that carried no trace of the malevolent intelligence that had animated it.
Victory achieved, Lion El'Jonson departed Bale IV's surface aboard the same gunships that had delivered him to battle.
Upon reaching the Invincible Reason, he requested access to fleet-wide communications, his image appearing on screens throughout the expedition force.
"We now possess the means to repay old debts with interest," he announced, his words carrying across the void to every ship in formation. "The enemy will learn that humanity's justice knows no bounds."
Reports of the Bale IV campaign travelled swiftly through Warp-routes to the First Expedition Fleet, where the Emperor himself commanded humanity's greatest military force.
Unfortunately, these accounts received scant attention from the Master of Mankind's strategic staff.
The reason was simple: at that very moment, the First Fleet engaged a massive Ork Battle Moon that had emerged from the galactic void without warning.
Its crude but effective weaponry threatening to derail the Great Crusade's carefully planned advance.