Chapter 33: The Battle for Ullanor (2) |
Chapter 33: The Battle for Ullanor
Part 2: The Warmaster
Location: The Hammerfall
"Arriving at Ullanor in 3… 2… 1…"
What struck Lord Commander Cassian Vaughn of the Dragon-Forged as he stood on the bridge of the flagship of his genefather's legion was how large the field of debris was.
Their astropaths had received word while the XVIII Legion was in transit to Ullanor of the Lunar Templar's successful first strike at the home system of the Orks. The three days they had been traveling since had been filled with nothing but preparations for the size and scope of the Orkish resistance now that the DESTROYAH!!! was out of commission.
He saw its remains now, mere kilometers away and still glowing white hot in some areas. It truly was gargantuan, with chunks of the superweapon nearing the size of an asteroid. It was almost enough to make him gaze at it longer, to attempt to study its mechanisms and repurpose such things for the Imperium. But what he saw next after the debris brought his attention to other matters.
Thousands of Ork ships were rushing through the void towards their positions, full speed ahead and clearly not caring about the long term consequences.
Still, the absence of the XVI Legion worried Cassian. There were Imperial ships among the wreckage of the great battle that had been fought here, but not nearly enough to indicate they had lost that engagement. Perhaps their message had been swept away by the tides of the Immaterium? Had the Orks been able to create some sort of jamming technology that prevented Astropathic contact? There were far too many questions and too few answers for the Lord Commander, and it irked him to no end. But he was of the Adeptus Astartes, and though he worried, fear would not know him this day.
Instead of panicking, both the mortal crew and their Astartes counterparts turned their gazes on towards a massive figure sitting on a resplendent throne at the center of the room.
Ogadin Vulkan merely gazed at the hologram before him, observing the scene unfolding with his famously reserved mannerisms.
"I believe I see what my brother is playing at, though it appears his message did not get through." the Primarch finally said, after what felt like an eternity of silence for the rest of the people on the bridge. "All hands prepare to fight. Be ready to repel any boarding parties they may try to send, and tell every captain in Crusader Fleet XVIII to be on the lookout for suicidal ramming actions. The loss of their war planet has driven them into a frenzy. Lord Commander Vaugh, you have command of the bridge. I must go rouse my friend."
The only thing that Cassian Vaughn hated more than void combat was failing his Primarch. The act of sitting in a chair while ordering others to their deaths and the only indication of success or failure was simply the color of the ship's exploding reactor was not something that sat well with him. Astartes were supposed to be on the front lines of any combat they faced, not letting humans die for them.
Unfortunately, there were few souls in the XVIII Legion better suited for command of a void battle than the Lord Commander. His killer instincts were unrivaled, and he had a knack for positioning his ships in the perfect spot and letting the enemy ship try in vain to hit them before an undodgeable volley of ammunition destroyed them utterly.
It was times such as there where Cassian missed the presence of his Primarch, but knew that Ogadin's presence was needed elsewhere. When Ayida had evolved beyond her salamander stage and bonded with Primarch of the XVIII fleet, she had become one of the most potent weapons the Dragon-Forged possessed. But though she was powerful, she possessed far less sapience than a human did. Ogadin quickly realized that having an attack dog the size of a battleship was a potent weapon. The vast majority of the void engagements the XVIII participated in did not require more than a savage dragon soaring through the void, there were occasions where a more strategic hand was required. Through intense concentration and communion with the Perpetual flesh imbued within the Stellar Dragon, Ogadin Vulkan was able to be a second set of eyes within Ayida, providing guidance and channeling her destructive impulses to be whatever weapon the Dragon-Forged needed her to be. Using his own intelligence, Ayida could temporarily become a union of Primarch genius and Old One bred ferocity. With his Primarch needing to wake and rouse his dragon, the duty of commanding his fleet fell to Cassian. It was a duty he detested, but he would do it perfectly nonetheless. His Primarch demanded it, and he would not be a failure.
The Orks were almost upon them, hurtling past the ruins of their greatest weapon without even slowing down to avoid hazards. This suited Cassian just fine. Let them break their numbers upon the anvil which was the navy of the Dragon-Forged Legion.
When the Orks came upon them, the Dragon-Forged were more than ready. Like the savant he reluctantly was, Cassian Vaughn had staged death traps for his foes, utilizing all three dimensions at his disposal to create killboxes for the enemy to be eradicated within.
As he commanded the fleet from his Primarch's throne, a roar that somehow passed through the void of nothingness outside made the bones of everyone on the bridge vibrate as it passed. Ayida the Stellar Dragon had joined the fight, and Cassian felt a swelling of pride in his chest as he watched her wrap her serpentine body around a hapless Ork vessel and squeeze it until detonation. There was not another legion among the twenty that had such a fearsome weapon at their side, not even the VII with their Phalanx-class fortress that sat guard upon Terra.
Cassian winced slightly as he saw the mighty dragon take a blow to her side as a hapless Ork ship rammed into her. He knew that his Primarch, who was psychically linked to the dragon to help guide her where the fleet needed her most, would feel that too. With a curt command, several ships made their way over to assist her, ensuring that such a thing would not happen again.
Then, when the battle seemed tidily in hand, a second wave of Ork ships descended upon them. It was almost beyond belief that the Orks had this much material that they were willing to spend in an all-or-nothing engagement. And now, to make matters even worse, Cassian saw that this second wave was led by an Attack Moon. The DESTROYAH!!! might have been eliminated, but it was clear that the Orks hadn't put all of their resources into that abysmal failure. The other 'kroozers' that the Orks had could hurt Ayida, but that was all. This monstrosity's weapons might actually be able to deal real harm to the dragon, and that meant the Primarch might be in true danger as well. This was not a good situation, not good at all, and Cassian saw no other solution but to simply withstand the punishment that was coming their way. It would be a close thing, but he had faith in the XVIII that they could manage such a thing.
The ships that had gone to defend Ayida left the Hammerfall open to attacks from the ork fleet, and Cassian had to grit his teeth as shells slammed into the side of their vessel. Not enough to seriously damage the ship, but there was still going to be casualties. Yet another reason to hate void warfare. Ceramite could be scratched and scuffed without any damage to the person it contained, but each hit on a ship would claim the lives of those that would otherwise have lived long and prosperous lives.
But mere seconds before he was going to open his mouth and pull the fleet back into desperate defensive positions, twin impacts of light impacted on the other side of the Attack Moon. Were it not for the moon itself blocking their view, Cassian had a sneaking suspicion the mortal crewmembers aboard the Hammerfall would have been blinded by the light's brilliance. When the light faded away, what it left in its place was a massive hole in the center of the Attack Moon, with its debris adding to the already massive quantity of detritus in the area.
Using this new debris field as cover, an as of yet unseen Imperial Fleet coated in black and white heraldry emerged to join the battle. The XVI Legion had struck at the most pivotal moment, bringing death to the exposed Orkish flanks.
"Come in Hammerfall, this is the Vengeful Spirit." came a somewhat garbled voice over the vox speakers.
"Vengeful, this is Hammerfall." came the Lord Commander's growling reply. "Two more seconds delay, and I would have turned my guns on you after I finished off all these orks."
"Apologies XVIII." the Templar on the other end said with a small chuckle. "It appears our astropathic message didn't go through. Would slaying greenskins together help you forgive us for our delay?"
"It would indeed." Cassian said with a smile upon his face that lacked any of the warmth that the XVIII were known for.
The battle took a markedly different tone after that. What was a desperate attempt at mitigating losses just a few hours before was now a classic 'hammer and anvil' action that both the Lunar Templars and Dragon-Forged excelled at. And because the XVI had emerged from the wreckage of the DESTROYAH!!, there was no chance for the fleeing ork ships to use that same debris field for coverage. All that remained was to eradicate their filth from the killing field that was hitting them on both sides.
As the few remaining orks fled back towards the inner system, the entire bridge of the Hammerfall let out a massive cheer that only grew louder and Ogadin Vulkan joined them and the normally reserved Primarch let out a cheer of his own. All present knew that there was still work to be done, but this was still an important victory. Their beachhead in the Ullanor System was firmly established and when the Emperor Himself arrived, their campaign against the inner planets could commence in earnest.
Seemingly on cue, a flash of magenta light opened up behind them, and a gargantuan golden ship emerged at the head of another fleet nearly as big as either of the Primarchs' fleets were.
Crusader Fleet Zero was here, and with it present the Battle for Ullanor could truly begin.
Location: The Bucephalus
I told you, good things happen when you listen to me.
Horus Lupercali tried his best to ignore the voice of his alternate self as it goaded its victory. It had whispered to him constantly, ever since his arrival into the Ullanor System. But it didn't just taunt him, or threaten to make him submit to the inevitability of Chaos. It also whispered of ways to bring the Imperium victory.
Lupercal had reminded him of the vision it had once shown the Primarch of the Lunar Templars. Humanity at its apex, with the genetic template Horus himself came from fighting alongside an ancient and wise fellow commander as they eliminated an entire Aeldari fleet which sought to re-enslave humans the original General Lupercal had so recently liberated. A pincer movement, one that trapped the enemy fleet between two Primarch's ships, was a most excellent recreation of what his genesire and father had done almost six thousand years ago.
The tactic had gone according to plan, and most Orkish vessels in the Outer System had fled towards Ullanor and the rocky planets of the interior, but Vulkan was not happy. Too many of their ships had perished in the minutes that Horus had elected to wait before unleashing his own attack. That regret, combined with the grief that he had been suppressing since Abbadon's death, was an appetizing invitation for his dark counterpart to manifest. And it was getting harder and harder to ignore him.
You should keep listening. You know what is waiting for you upon the surface of Ullanor. it continued. You know you cannot defeat it. Even I couldn't defeat it with the skills you possess now. Our favorite son is no longer alive to assist us, but I can still fix your mistake. I am no longer the Horus Lupercal I once was when I first fought the Beast of Beasts. I am so much more than that now. And when you let me take control, I will show you just how powerful Chaos can make us.
My brothers are with me. I will not be alone. Horus replied, choosing to believe in the confidence he put forward. There is nothing Chaos can offer me.
All he received in reply was a dark chuckle. One that a predator makes when it sees its prey trying in vain to escape.
Thirty extra years have passed. Look around at this system, Horus. You see how much stronger they are compared to my own campaign. Now imagine what their Warlord is like. Image how much stronger he is. You are strong, there is no denying that. You are even stronger when you stand with your brothers. But none of you are strong enough for this. Only Chaos is, for we are inevitable.
Perhaps it had other things it wished to say, other half-truths it wanted to whisper to him in Horus' moments of doubt, but his eye of psychic fire that suddenly blinded by the golden light that entered the room and banished his alternate self.
The Emperor of Mankind, flanked on one side by Constantin Valdor and on the other by Arik Taranis, strode into the room with a grim and determined expression on his face. It was always a disorienting experience for Horus to be in the presence of his father. One eye saw him as a commander of men, the stern general that had not aged a day in the millennia since his alias of Estalius. His psychic eye saw a pillar of golden fire, taking a thousand and one faces, flitting from each of them almost too fast to comprehend.
As one, all of the Primarchs and their Astartes subordinates rose and gave the sign of the Aquila. Their lord and master was not here as an instructor or a guide, but as a conqueror. And now he was here to give them their orders
The Emperor looked at the assembled men and gave a small wave of his hand, bidding them to all sit. They did so, and were surprised when the Emperor gave them all a warm smile and he moved forward to stand beside the holoprojector.
"You have done well." the Emperor said with an approving nod. "Difficult battles have been won, and there will be more before our work here concludes, but there is no shame in celebrating a victory… as long as we remember the price paid by those such as Abaddon the Hero."
Horus felt his blood turn to ice and his stomach felt heavier than it had a moment before. His geneson had gone to his death at peace, but that did little to ease the Primarch's pain at his passing. He knew that was a wound that would take years to heal, if it ever did at all.
"Our scouts have been hard at work scouting the system, and the news is both better and worse than we feared it would be." a Dark Raptor legionary attached to the XVI Crusader Fleet said, gesturing to the hologram that showed the Ullanor System with various shades of green and gold coloring the parts of the system each side possessed.
"In the week since Crusader Fleet Zero has arrived in the system, we have made quick work of the outer planets, and most of the territory that the orks claimed on those gas giants is under the control of the Imperium of Man." the scout continued. "That is the good news, but the bad news is that xenos presence on these moons and various stations were much higher than anticipated. Fortifications are beyond anything we have seen from their species before, and are comparable to defenses that we have seen from some of the toughest bastions of humanity that survived the Long Night."
"Those took years to conquer. Time and resources that we do not have." Ogadin rumbled, looking at the numbers and statistics projected before him.
"Agreed." Horus murmured. "But the might of three legions and the Custodes are facing them. We will succeed."
"But not without heavy casualties. Possibly the worst the Ullanor Crusade has seen over such a short period of time." Tengri added. "And this citadel I see upon Ullanor's surface…"
The projection zoomed in and displayed a structure akin to a miniature hive city, but crudely displaying Orkish architecture and decorations. Not only that, but it was bristling with fortifications and weapons of all sorts.
"Which is why you three in particular were chosen for this final step in the crusade." the Emperor interjected, foreseeing a discussion that would turn circular all too quickly.
"Horus, we shall bypass the inner planets and strike at Ullanor itself. Your legions excels at such things, and you shall be the tip of our righteous and avenging spear. You and your sons shall infiltrate the citadel alongside your brothers to cut off the head of this overgrown snake."
"Ogadin, your sons are a stalwart shield, able to hold any position they dig into against all foes. When you and your brothers strike the citadel, the Dragon-Forged will hold the line and endure against the waves and waves of xenos attackers from both within the citadel and without. A difficult task, but one that we as a species have done for thousands of years."
With a psychic pulse, the projection in the room changed, and a scene from Old Roma unfolded before them, with the Emperor discussing strategies for a siege with a military leader in a brilliant red robe. Wooden stakes were erected on both sides and when the hordes of screaming barbarians came they were repelled time and time again.
The projection returned to normal, but the message was made. They didn't have wooden stakes, but the Emperor was entrusting that the Dragon-Forged would find something more appropriate to fortify their defenses.
"Tengri, your sons strike quickly and truly, wherever they are sent." the Emperor continued. "While you journey to Ullanor to confront the Beast, your sons shall continue to prosecute the war in the void and divert xenos to other conflicts on other planets and stations in the system. Do you have a son in mind that will wage the void campaign in your place?"
"Yes, Father. I do." Tengri nodded. "Jubal… I will let him know as soon as we are done here. It will be unorthodox, but I assume that is why you chose my legion for this honor?"
"Insightful as ever." the Emperor replied. Horus thought he saw one of the Dragon-Forged behind Ogadin let out a small sigh of relief, and he couldn't help but smile just a tiny bit. It looked like Lord Commander Vaughn was going to get an opportunity to do what he loved doing most in the world. And was going to be as far away from void warfare as possible. Even among the upper hierarchies of the other 19 legions, his hatred for that style of war was infamous.
"And where will you be, Father?" Horus asked. "Will you be joining us in our assault?"
"There is no part in this plan for Him." Tengri murmured, so quietly it was almost a whisper. "Something else calls to him on the surface of Ullanor."
"Astute as ever." the Emperor said with an approving nod. "There is something else I must do, but I will land with you before my Custodes and myself descend into the depths that I forbid you to tread."
Forbid to tread? The Emperor abandoning his sons? Unbidden memories of a dark future flooded into Horus' mind. A father abandoning his son and letting him face the predations of a galaxy devoid of sanity and delving into secrets that would lead to an Imperium where his sons had no role to play and no future to be a part of.
It was his turn to speak, to plan the invasion and take command of the Crusade once again, but Horus was on autopilot. The plans showed all the brilliance that the XVI Legion had been famous for, but that was to be expected. He was a Primarch, able to focus on multiple things at a time, but all he could truly think of at the moment were all of the various ways that he could fail, his father could betray him, or some combination of both.
And what was worse, as they all rose to leave the room, was the knowledge that as soon as the Emperor was gone his dark counterpart would come back. And Horus knew that as strong as he was, he had already come close to succumbing to those temptations once before…
Location: The Great Citadel - Level One
After eight days of ceaseless combat, the short break for rest and replenishment had been a welcome relief for Corin Calistar.
As the Chief Librarian of the Lunar Templars, Horus Lupercali had come to rely on his council and psychic prowess. With a good portion of the 3.1 million Astartes assigned to the surface of Ullanor under the command of the Lunar Templars, his ability to serve as an extension of Lupercali's will and direct the forces in his Primarch's stead if necessary.
The past week or so had seen his skills as a proxy commander being needed more and more. The beginning of the campaign had started with drop pods falling like raindrops, and almost as numerous as well. As the Dragon-Forged began to fortify their positions, it had been up to the Lunar Templars to establish their main staging ground and ensure the orks were in no position to defend the first level of this palace-fortress.
Corin's psychic flames had scorched hundreds of orks in those first few hectic hours, and as the Templars had been able to reconnect and set up their forward operating camps, the Chief Librarian had seen to establishing their defenses both psychic and physical. Those had only become more important as the days had passed, with the orks no longer using the horde tactics that the XVI Legion had grown accustomed to. Combined arms assaults against their positions had only been thwarted because the Librarius had foreseen the attacks coming hours before they happened.
Sabotaging their heavy weaponry to prevent pushing the Templars and Dragon-Forged off their positions had been far more difficult than it should have been as well. Backup nodes if power supplies went down, redundant systems, and foreign tech clearly not of greenskin origin made it to where almost the entirety of the XVI's techmarine contingency had to be diverted to either disable the heavy weaponry the orks possessed, or provide defense against the mekboyz that swarmed to repair whatever damage the Imperium had caused.
Now, as they readied themselves to push further into the fortress so big it was essentially a city, Corin took one last look back at the barren wasteland outside the city to observe how their outer defenses fared. The Dragon-Forged were gamely holding out as best as they could, but it was clearly a losing battle in the long term, as the Imperium knew it would be and planned accordingly. A ceaseless line of flashing lights indicated that the bolters and flamers the XVIII used were being used with startling frequency. It appeared as though up and down the line, the orks were refusing to let them have any breaks or areas where the troops on the line could stop to recover. He pitied the mortal Imperial Army regiments assigned to defend the fortifications alongside the Astartes. With Titan legions fighting against the newly unleashed monstrosities Corin had heard described as 'Gargants' and the ever-present attacks upon their trenchlines, the Chief Librarian did not believe the survivability rates would ever be higher than half for the poor men and women fighting for the Imperium they may never live to see.
Turning away from the pockmarked battlements, he found a figure in bulky Terminator-pattern armor waiting for him so they could make the journey together.
"Chief Librarian." the figure said, thumping the Imperial aquila on his chest with the gargantuan fist.
"Chapter Master." Corin replied, giving the same salute in return.
"I have a chapter of one." Garviel Loken said, the shame obvious in his tone. "Not much of a chapter, and not much of a master at the moment."
"You still represent the Justaerin, Loken." Corin chided as they strode down a ruined city street that had once served as the holding pens for the four-legged 'squigs' that the orks used as both mounts and a source of sustenance. "And one day, you will be the one who leads them to future glory."
"Will that actually happen, brother?" Garviel scoffed. "I serve to protect our Primarch, to be his personal weapon that attack the toughest positions and slay the most formidable enemies in his name. Entire tomes could be written about the enemies that Abbadon the Redeemer slayed in service to the Emperor and our father!"
"But me? I have held this position long enough to see combat, and the most I have seen is observing and reinforcing positions well behind the frontlines." the younger Astartes continued. "Does our father not trust me? Have I wounded him in some way that I am unaware of? You know him better than I do, Calistar. What is Horus thinking insulting me like this? If the error is mine, I would rectify it if I only knew what it was!"
"Horus is… protective of you." the Chief Librarian said reluctantly. "You were the only survivor of your elite brotherhood, and he does not want the Redeemer's choice to save you to have been in vain if you fall in battle."
"I do not fight, the same as if I had died upon that foul planet-killer!" Garviel shouted in frustration. "We are told from the moment we enter into the legion that 'Only in Death does Duty end', but it can only begin when we are able to serve!"
"Your frustration is understandable, but will serve you poorly as you fight for our legion and the Imperium." Corin warned. "You will have adversity, but remember the battle cry we scream to our enemies: 'No Better Friend, and No Fiercer Foe'. Your enemies will not always be physical or on the other side of the battlefield. Sometimes, you must work to overcome challenges within our brotherhood."
"And what would you know about it?" Garviel scoffed. "Horus' favorite son, his most trusted advisor within the Inner Circle. How many times have you covered your face with lunar dust? How many times have you donned the blood of the Glorious Dead? Do not lecture me about the difficulties of legion life!"
"The first time I felt lunar dust on my paint was when I was in the bowels of Luna itself." Corin responded quietly.
There was no reply, just the thudding of powered boots upon rockcrete as they trudged onwards and upwards.
"You… you faced Be'lakor with Horus and Abbaddon at the Inner Sanctum?" the Justaerin finally asked after a period of silence.
"I wouldn't say I fought with them." the Chief Librarian answered wryly. "I was one of the very first Astartes the Daemon Lord felled when he began his attack. You are conversing with the only librarian who survived that hellish duel, and only because I was unconscious and not vulnerable to the presence of the Immaterium within that chamber."
"I… you have withstood hardships in your past, Chief Librarian and I beg your pardon for my harsh comments." Garviel said. "But what does this have to do with my-"
"For months after our Primarch's return, I stayed chained to a medical bed and was monitored by Templars who were told to kill me without so much as a moment's hesitation if I even blinked abruptly." Corin continued. "And when it was finally determined that I bore none of the taint of Chaos, I was relegated to simply soothing the pain of Astartes who were undergoing painful surgeries. Horus wanted no part in seeing the face of a son who had borne witness to his greatest shame."
"You are one of the most powerful psykers in the entire Legiones Astartes!" Garviel exclaimed indignantly. "Thankfully our Primarch saw the error of his ways and had you promoted."
"That he did, but only after the advocacy of one who was invested in my success."
"Abbaddon?"
"The one and the same."
"I am humbled, brother." Garviel said. "And I hope that one day I prove worthy of advocation as well."
"Why do you think Horus consented to letting you join our assault upon the Beast's citadel?"
More silence, as they were nearing the proposed assembly spot before working their way up the various levels in a lightning strike against the orks' high command. There were so many words, but Corin suspected it was difficult for Garviel to know exactly what to say.
"Corin, I wish to-"
A rockcrete pillar exploded off to Corin's right side as they walked by it. The right side of his face was peppered with white-hot dots of pain as the debris connected with his exposed face. His transhuman biology quickly sealed up the wounds, and the healing that his physique did not handle on its own was quickly supplemented with Corin's psychic arts. Although gifted in all forms of sanctioned warpcraft, he was especially gifted at physical augmentation and was able to heal his wounds almost instantly.
At least five Ork Nobz poured forth from the pillar, raising their chainaxes high and screaming their fervor for the WAAAAAAAGH!!! that held this planet so tightly in its grip. The Librarian's eyes flared with psychic might and flames shot out from his outstretched fingers to cover one of his assailants in purifying destruction. Another swung his weapon in a crude blow that Corin easily caught with his power staff, before shoving his own psychically enhanced fist through the orks heads at such a high speed that the ork's head popped clean off the body and sailed in a parabolic arc that Corin soon lost sight of.
Turning to face the other three attackers, he was greeted with the sight of three ork corpses at Garviel Loken's feet and the power sword the young Templar carried was covered from tip to hilt in greenskin blood. An impressively quick series of kills, especially as the slayer was adorned in bulky terminator armor while doing so.
"They are ambushing us now?" Garviel asked, incredulity creeping into his voice as he looked around in disbelief. "This zone has been cleared for well over a day now. I patrolled this area myself. How did I miss this?"
"We all did, because these orks are craftier than we give them credit for." Corin said as he motioned to the rockcrete pillar that had exploded before the fight. "Observe the breathing apparatuses and oxygen tanks stashed inside, not to mention the detection technology they seem to bear. They were waiting for us, hoping to ambush high value targets like ourselves when the moment was right. We are fortunate they made the mistake of choosing us as their target."
"Since when do the orks use rebreathers and wait inside of rockcrete for an ambush that the Dark Raptors would find overly elaborate?" the young Templar asked. "Something is not right about this, Chief Librarian. And it bothers me I cannot put a name to this ill feeling I have."
"Neither can I, which troubles me as well." Corin said. Mercifully, they were nearing the Primarch's forward encampment where they were staging their final assault. This was a job for Horus and his brothers to ponder, not his sons.
"All we can do now is trust in our Primarch. And remember that while the Emperor protects, so must we."
Location: The Citadel of the Beast
Throughout the entire half day it had taken them to reach the top level of this fortress, the entire assault had sat poorly with Horus Lupercali.
To begin with, the fact it had only taken half a day to traverse the fortress was troubling. The resistance the Primarchs had encountered had been nominal at best. Almost as if they were being allowed to travel in this direction. He could not shake the uncanny feeling that there was some sort of invisible animal shepherding them right where it wanted them to go.
Secondly, the scant forces they had fought were merely fodder. Chaff that was meant to be cut down. Where were the elite warbosses? The Nobz and the Meganobz? Horus had not even needed to activate the Longinus in the defense of their attack. His sons had been able to neutralize any threat before even Tengri had been able to unsheathe his weapons. While he did not doubt the prowess of his sons, he did doubt they were facing the best that this Beast of Beasts had to offer.
And now they stood before the massive doors of a grand building at the very height of this horrid fortress, at a height so tall that an unaugmented human would not have been able to breathe the air. The doors themselves were easily fifty meters tall, adorned with engravings of ork skulls similar to those that had decorated countless banners the Imperium had felled over the decades of this conflict. These skulls were no crude paintings however. They had been engraved onto these doors as if by the finest of artisans. There was actual symmetry in the skulls, with fine details that made them seem almost realistic instead of the simple outlines they had seen before. Here, more than anywhere else in the entire Ullanor Empire, was it clear that the Orks had evolved more than the galaxy had seen in thousands of years.
Last chance, little Lupercali. His dark counterpart taunted, almost smug as to what Horus was about to face.
The XVI Primarch paused, only for a moment, turning around to face his assembled brothers and sons.
"No matter what we find on the other side of that door, I am so proud of you all." he declared. "We fight for a better tomorrow, for the Golden Path of Humanity that the Emperor of Mankind has declared our birthright as a species. I see my brothers and my sons before me, and I could think of no better friends by my side than my family. And soon, those orks behind these doors will discover that they will find there is no fiercer foe than this very same family!"
The strike force let out a mighty roar and raised their weapons up high. They were the avenging angels of humanity, and none would stand before their might.
Placing two gauntlets on the doors, Horus Lupercali pushed them open and strode forward to meet his fate.
The throne room on the other side was massive. Easily a hundred meters long, and easily that wide. Lined on both sides of the long hallway were rows after rows of seats that had massive orks sitting perfectly still and holding perfect attention upon the Astartes that had just entered. Though they clearly bristled with weaponry, they made no motion towards them. One of Horus' men raised his bolter to start eliminating their foe, but Ogadin Vulkan placed his hand on the barrel and lowered the weapon. They were not the true threat here. That lay at the far end of the room.
Sitting on a massive throne made up of thousands upon thousands of skulls consisting of human, xenos, and monstrous creatures was an Ork in crystalline power armor that had all the makings of an Aeldari warsuit, but suited for a creature the size of a Warlord. Behind him stood perhaps a dozen orks, all clad in actual robes of a bright green color. Horus had never seen orks wear clothing that was so neatly manufactured or cleanly maintained. Their leader, or at least the one that Horus suspected was such, held a massive rod that seemed to consist entirely of one large Aeldari crystal, and the creature was waving it around as if it had some sort of religious significance.
As the strike force moved closer, Horus could see that this heavily armored ork was the creature that he had once seen in a vision right before the beginning of the Golgotha Campaign. Ten meters tall, cunningly intelligent, and radiating a palpable energy. It wasn't even simply a sensation that Horus could feel in his soul. With his psychic eye, he could see that the Beast of Beasts was wrapped in crackling green energy, which would occasionally send out a bolt that would strike an ork in the room seemingly at random. The recipients of these energy bolts would seem to stand or sit taller depending on where they were in the room, and Horus started to suspect that this was the WAAAAAAAAAGH!!! energy field that allowed this foul xenos species to skirt around the laws of reality.
"Ah, so the would-be conqueror finally appears." the Beast said, still striding towards them all. Tengri motioned for the Astartes accompanying them to disperse and take up defensive positions, but the sitting orks did not seem to care. Horus suddenly realized why this place seemed so familiar, even without the aid of his dark visions. This was an area, similar to the ones that he had been in dozens of times before when sparring. Only this time, he was playing the role of an animal slain for the amusement of uncaring spectators.
"I come on behalf of the Emperor of Mankind, foul creature." Horus declared, drawing the Longinus and activating it. Light shone out into the hall and even the eerily stoic orks seemed to shy away from its radiance. "Your foul reign ends here, and shall usher in the glorious rule of the Imperium to this forsaken place."
The only ork that seemed to be unaffected was the Beast of Beasts, Urg Mag Uruk Thraka himself. The green lightning surrounding him seemed to be siphoned off by the strange ork carrying the crystalline staff who took the energy into the rod and slammed it down onto the floor. What had once been lightning bolts was now a green wave that passed over everything and everyone. The orks it touched no longer seemed affected by the Longinus' light, and seemed to be seized by a barely controlled frenzy. Hissing and growls soon filled the room that were only silenced by the Beast's raised fist.
"A clever trick, but one that will not work again." it leered at him. "You have taken too much time before mustering the courage to face me, and now you have no choice but to bear witness to our own ascension. Not yours."
The Beast moved closer to him now, towering over Horus by at least six meters, even when the latter was clad in his terminator armor. It stood alone before the assembled might of the Imperial forces, as if to show them that nothing the had could possibly hurt him.
"Even the knife-ears think we are going to win." he said, almost in a whisper, or at least as close as their kind was able to. "And so now the music you have so delightfully danced to comes to an end. Kneel now, and your death shall be one that shall bring you relatively little pain."
"The only pain felt here shall be from you, monster!" came the shout from behind Horus, and before he could even react Tengri Khagan came racing from behind him and struck at Uruk Thraka at speeds even Horus' genetically perfected eyes struggled to track.
Horus could not track it, but the Beast of Beasts could. It leapt back with lightning speed, just as the V Primarch's power saber swung in a wide arc that would have severed his head. As fast as the Warlord was, there simply was no way to avoid all of the blows that were raining down upon him. For every strike that was blocked with his gauntlets or with his psychic shielding, another of Tengri's blows struck true.
The room seemed to be frozen in time, each of the potential combatants waiting with bated breath to see the outcome of this fight, to see which of the two possessed the advantages that would indicate an eventual victory.
Eventually, one of Tengri's strike found a vital weak spot, and was buried halfway into the Beast's left side of his neck after a particularly vicious blow slipped right past the massive ork's defenses.
The sighs of relief let out by the Imperial strike force died on their lips as the Beast's flesh re-knit itself around the fresh wound, moving so fast that barely any blood was able to escape. The V Primarch tried to pull the blade out, but the flesh held it firm. Tengri knew that he was exposed, and vulnerable to a counterattack from his foe. What was worse was that he didn't see any way to avoid the damage that Urg Mag Uruk Thraka was about to unleash. Looking down at his recently vulnerable foe with a horrifically evil smile, an ugly laugh escaped the Beast's lips as the green lightning around him increased to a fever pitch.
Tengri's power saber was caught in a metal hand, which quickly extracted the blade from the monster's neck. The Beast squeezed the saber tightly, shattering the blade into dozens of fragments. The other hand was wrapped around the Primarch's throat. With the threat to the sword handled, the left hand gently stroked the side of the Primarch's head as the room around them exploded into chaos.
Orks leapt from their seats brandishing their weapons and fell upon the hopelessly outnumbered Astartes. Ogadin was swarmed by easily two dozen of the massive brutes, and Horus saw two of his own sons downed before they could bring their bolters around to kill a second target. Looking at the priestly ork in the back of the room, he saw that the staff was being rhythmically pounded into the ground at faster and faster intervals. As the increasingly quicker tides of green energy washed over them, less and less orks started to fall to Imperial weaponry and more and more of his own sons started to die choking on their own blood.
Horus leapt into the fray as well, conjuring the Longinus in the pattern of a massive greatsword and carving his way through the orks foolish enough to meet him in battle. Here were the warbosses and nobz that had been held in reserve. Clearly the Beast had been keeping them
"Can you not see that your struggle is hopeless, you pathetic human?" Uruk Thraka said, palming the back of Tengri's head with the hand not around his throat and turning him so that the Primarch was forced to look at the scene of unfolding carnage before him.
"No?" the Beast chuckled. "Well if you cannot see what is right in front of you, what are you using your eyes for at all?"
Green energy glowed from the creature's palm, coursing through the Primarch's skull. Tengri screamed out in pain, a sound that Horus had never heard a Primarch make before, save for when he himself had elected to end his life rather than succumb to the Ruinous Powers.
Tengri's eyes glowed with a sickening eldritch light before they exploded out of his skull. The V Primarch was thoughtlessly thrown to the ground where he lay unmoving, quickly clotting blood forming in a slowly growing pool under the Primarch's body.
The Beast of Beasts knelt down and traced a finger through the blood before bringing that finger to his mouth and taking a long, slow lick as he looked upon Horus with a wicked grin.
"Do you want to go next?"
Screaming in rage and frustration, Horus decapitated the three orks that had been dueling him and rushed towards his foe, focusing the light of the Longinus into a beam no wider than his head that he aimed right at the chest of Uruk Thraka.
The Beast blocked the beam in the palm of his hand and seemed to almost chuckle at the sight of the hapless tactic.
"You are slower than I thought you would be." the Beast said darkly. "You won't be enjoyable to duel at all. Respectfully, I decline your invitation."
Horus leapt forwards, arcing through the air with the tip of his spear aimed directly at the Beast's neck. Millimeters before the weapon struck true, the Beast's armored fist impacted his chest with enough force that it would have flattened a Land Raider. Careening through the air, Horus was sent flying back in the opposite direction before colliding with one of the great stone pillars that held up the room. He felt warm blood flow from a wound that had been opened up upon his collision, and he fell to the floor where he lay for a second before collecting his bearings. His vision swam, and it was hard to keep a grasp around a thought before it flitted away forever.
Something… Green energy… Tengri… Vulkan…Abbadon…
Loken!
His sons! They were still in danger!
Horus raised his head and saw Urg Mag Uruk Thraka towering over his brother, looking across the hall and right into the dazed Primarch's soul, a wicked grin upon its horrific face. Two axes seemed to be conjured from green flames that the monster manifested from his own will.
"Will it be cunningly brutal?" it asked, brandishing the psychic axe in its left hand.
"Or do you want it to be brutally cunning?", brandishing the axe construct in its right hand
Horus tried to focus, but it was just too difficult. The room was spinning more and more, and when he tried to stand up, he fell back against the pillar and slumped back down into a sitting position. It was all too much. He was too weak, and they were all going to die here.
And then his whole world faded as a white light overtook him.
Location: T̴̺̈́̐̓̉̂h̸̖̝̒̎͜è̸̬ ̸̙͈͕̥͗̉̌ͅt̴̨̯̹̥̤̆͆̎͑î̶͈̰̾͋͛m̴͙̹̘͉̍͑̚ë̶͓̺͖͒̕͘ ̶̰̗̫̌̌̽́̑͜ḩ̸̪̟͕̒̓a̸̳͉̗̯̎s̶̯̼͕̼̙̉͊ ̴̪̼̈́̐̒͂͠c̴͔̰͓̒ő̴̗m̴̙̩͎̝̠̂̽͗̍ė̸̟͐̾.̸͓̯̩̺̅̄̈ͅ ̷̧̽̊Ṱ̴̻̘̔̅̌̿h̴͓̥̘̒̓̾̈́ȇ̴̛̙̺̫̏̎͜͝ ̶͚̜̌͌́s̴͈̯̝͆̃͌á̶̜̋̓̆͘c̶̲̠̑r̴̟̘̜̗̒̋i̴̢̡̫̘̪͝f̶̢͙͙̽i̷̡̨̱̜̗͛̏ç̴̱̄ê̴͍̪̼̜̓ͅd̴̙̝̄̋ͅ ̶̬̬͔̜͐͗͑̕s̷̡̨͎͉̅͛̌ḧ̷͍́͌̍̔̈́á̵̞̃͒̂͠l̴̹͉̝͋̔͝l̷̦̲̩̔́ ̶̼̾͐̕b̶̪̘̍ͅę̴̰͔̳͈́ ̶̭̬̉͋̃̏̔f̴͉͌̌̄r̵̗̈͆ȩ̵̩̌̾̂̿̈ě̶̖͆̃̍l̷̛̦̭͚̀̇ÿ̵̢̻͕̗̺̀ ̸̖̲͙̜̖̈o̷̺̙̦͙̭̓f̷̖̗͉̈́̽̓͠f̷̱̓̊͛e̷̤͇͚͔̋̆̓̏̏ͅr̷̟̤̲̬͑̍̃ȇ̷͈̠̠͖ď̵̼̳̰̟̀.̷̪̜͊͑ ̷̙͋̊͛̕͠Ĺ̴̺̦͒͆̌u̸̢̠̬͗̋̉́p̵͎̙͂͐̀̓̕ĕ̵̬̟̗̳̺̏̀́r̶̨̤͌̈́̑c̷̯͗͊̂͛̽ä̸̝͚̙l̴̨̹͔͊͝ ̵̹̅̇̚͘R̵̗̼͕̬̹̿̎̆͆̄i̴̢̺̩̽͛̑͂ṡ̸̨͓̙̄̏͌̚ë̶͙̪̿̎̄̑s̶̗͈̈́!̸̻̳͔̰̞͑͒̽ ̷̬͕́͊̚L̷̹̅̿̏̅͝u̶̗̳̿̅̿̏̎ͅp̵̛̦͍͚̮̀̑̆̒͜e̷͎̙̫͓͂̇r̵̟̟̎͠ç̴̀̊͝a̷̰̗̘̣̦̅̎͛̀l̵̦͑̃l̷̫͈̑͗͂̎͜ ̴̘̗̳̗̟̀̍̓̎̓Ṟ̸̄̽͋̉i̷̟̣̘̓̈́̿͆̀s̸̺̜͓̓͆̄͌e̶̛͂͜s̴̨̄̉̀!̷̽̍͜͝
Before him was the observation room of the Vengeful Spirit. Not as he knew it, but as it had once been. A battle unlike anything Horus had ever seen in his life raged in the void just outside the confines of the ship, and the very walls themselves pulsed with the raw evil of the Ruinous Powers. At the center of the observatory was a tall figure clad in black terminator armor with a gigantic wolf pelt draped across his shoulders. A lightning claw that only a Primarch could have wielded effectively hung at his side as the warrior looked out the window at the battle unfolding before him.
Horus Lupercal was waiting for him, and there was nothing else left to do but fulfill his destiny.
As the Lupercali moved to step forward, a firm hand gripped him tightly on his shoulder. It held him in place, and try as he might, Horus found he could not move. Looking behind him, he saw that he was held back by one person that he thought he would never see again.
But Ezekyle Abbadon was not smiling for this reunion. In fact, it looked like he wanted to finish the Beast's job for it.
"You're about to do something incredibly stupid, father." Abbadon said with a frown. "And we must resolve this now, because I will not be able to aid you again."
"How- how are you here?" Horus asked, incredulous. "You are dead."
"Did that stop you when the same happened to your own body and soul?" came Abbadon's rhetorical question. No trace of humor was found in his voice. "Now, if you are done asking stupid questions, let us get to the issue at hand."
Horus looked away from Abbadon and turned his gaze towards his still unmoving dark counterpart. Time did not operate here as it did in the sane reality he had left, and so he had no idea how long both of them stared before Horus began to talk again.
"I will not lie to you, not now. His offer is tempting me greatly." the Primarch finally admitted. "I do not possess the strength to slay the Beast, and I don't want my sons to die in vain."
"Why do you think you need his strength?" Abbadon asked.
"Because he was able to slay the Beast in his timeline."
"And yet, he was so weak that he fell to the predations of Chaos. You did not."
"Those are two entirely different strengths."
"Oh?"
"I killed myself to escape the clutches of the Ruinous Powers!" Horus screamed, tears flowing uncontrolled down his face. "Instead of fighting for my sons, I abandoned you in that hellpit and let the vast majority of you die! I should have resisted longer! I should have been the one to face Be'lakor, not you! They died because of me!"
"Hmm…" Abbadon said, nodding slightly as he stared with his father at the unfolding battle. "Tell me, father. Did you kill me?"
"What?"
"Did. You. Kill. Me?"
"Abbadon, I- no!" Horus exclaimed.
"I died upon orders that you gave." his son continued. "How dare you not take full and complete blame."
"I shall carry guilt over your death until my own." Horus shot back. "But you gave your life so that we might have victory. It was not a death, it was a sacrifice."
"Because it was my decision to make?"
"Precisely."
"And what about your other sons? Have your forced them into this war of conquest."
"All of them were glad to- ah, I see."
"Father, as I said with some of my last words in life, I love you." Abbadon began. "And while it may seem strange for someone who has so much contrition, but you suffer from an excess of pride."
Silence reigned once again, as Horus did not quite know what to say.
"In your pride, you believe that you must protect every single person you are better than." Abbadon continued. "You are smarter than them, you are stronger than them, and you feel that it is your duty to protect those that are weaker than you. And when the Ruinous Powers showed you what he did under their control, it revealed to you just how much damage you could cause should you turn from this path you have laid out for yourself even for a moment."
"And in your arrogance, you felt that all that occurred was also what you would do in his situation. So you have overcompensated. You have tried to correct faults that do not exist in the first place. You hesitate, and so you fail when faced with a challenge you no longer believe yourself competent to undertake. You withhold missions from Templars that could complete them, and act as if nobody else in the world can restore justice to this world besides yourself. You see both the material and immaterial, father. How is it that you cannot seem to see at all?"
It was eerily similar to what the Beast had told Tengri before mutilating him, but even Horus admitted there was a truth to what both his son and mortal enemy had said. But understanding was one thing. Feeling the resolve to change was another matter entirely.
"I… I am so sorry, Abbadon." Horus began. "And-"
"No. Not another word." his son interjected. 'The time for apologies is over. You do it in service to nobody but yourself. Now is the time for action. Get in there, and show him that it is not only Astartes that Feel No Fear."
"You sound like Uriah." Horus said, an actual smile across his face.
"I spoke with him, before we set out for the Ullanor Crusade." Abbadon replied, a startlingly sincere smile of his own adorning his typically grim features. "He said I would have need of his methods before my time was over. Leave it to a priest to be as vague as possible."
"Thank you, Abbadon. Truly." Horus said. "And know that I will always lo-"
"We did this already." Abbadon the Redeemer replied, already walking away with a backwards wave of his hand. "Less monologuing and more destruction, please. I am dead, remember? Save your words for the living… but do be well. I don't want to see you again for a long, long time."
He was gone, back into the infinite blackness that the Vengeful Spirit's tunnel's contained, but Horus paid it no attention. There was something else he needed to do.
Horus Lupercal finally turned around as the Lupercali strode forward, an easy and coy smile upon his features.
"And so here we are, at the climax of our little play!" he chuckled. "You played your part well, but now it is time for you to hand over the reins and let the true experts do what they must. Nice and easy now, and you can drift into dreams of eternal peace."
"There is no peace while my father's Imperium still needs defending." the Lupercali snarled. "And I know what you are, shadow."
Lupercal's handsome features flickered for a moment, and a creature with fell madness in its eyes and criss-crossing black veins upon its face stood before him for a nanosecond before the apparition took back control.
'What did you say?"
"My father obliterated Horus Lupercal's soul from existence when he killed you." Lupercali said. "The Ruinous Powers are not gods, no matter how much they delude themselves. It is beyond their powers to have brought you back. The only things sustaining you are my own stubbornness and pride. I reject them now, and so therefore I reject you as well."
The charming visage faded once again, and this time it did not return. The shade snarled at Horus, brandishing its Talon as it did so.
"Imagine all the good I could have done if only I had known what you are." Lupercali remarked. "You were nothing to fear, and your memories would have served me well time and time again upon my campaigns. The attack upon the orks at the Mandeville Point in Ullanor, for instance. It was not the strategy that iced relations with my brother, but it was my paranoia and my insistence that I be the only one in control. Qualities that you whispered to be because I let you. But no more."
The Talon of Horus came down upon him, but it passed through the Primarch's body as if it were mist.
"You still do not understand." Lupercali taunted. "The only power you had is what I gave you, and I have retaken it all now. What Horus Lupercal did in the name of all that is evil and insane, I shall unmake in the righteous names of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. I would invite you to witness it and despair, but you will cease to exist the moment I leave here. And speaking of which…"
He turned around abruptly and departed, striding towards the door with a purpose he had not felt an inkling of in decades.
"You will never defeat it!" the shade called out, already fading from reality as the darkness crept upon it. "It is too strong for you. Even with you becoming 'whole' again, you may still fail."
One look back, that was all Horus Lupercali spared for the weakness he resolved to leave in this room forever.
"There is no failure for the Imperium of Man." he replied simply. "Where it be my victory or the triumph of someone else, does it truly matter for the people we protect? No matter what I do against the Beast of Beasts, I shall shorten its rule upon Ullanor. By a small amount or a great deal. I can think of no greater service than that."
And without another thought about the wailing creature behind him. Horus Lupercali, Primarch of the XVI Legion Lunar Templars marched forward to Death or to Glory.
Location: The Throneroom Upon Ullanor
Horus Lupercal awoke with a renewed vigor, the wound on the back of his head healed and his mind clearer than it had been in a very long time. Startled at this seemingly miraculous recovery, he bolted upright and saw Urg Mag Uruk Thraka towering above one of his sons, axes raised high to deliver another in a long line of killing blows.
In a flash he was upright and sprinting. Faster and with more strength than he ever had before, including the moments before his dark revelations upon Luna. The knowledge of the Dark Lupercal was at his disposal now, and he no longer felt ashamed of the psychic gifts that he had been given. Biomancy coursed through his body, empowering his muscles to hurtle him forward with such speed that Tengri would have been proud. Marveling at his newfound fortune, his eyes landed upon the Lunar Templar crushed underneath the Beast's armored boot.
Corin Calistar was bleeding from his eyes, ears, and mouth, but still he kept his hand raised towards his genesire. He was a talented psyker, gifted beyond any that Horus had seen in any legion save the Arcanists. He could have healed himself, strengthened his kine shield to at least make the falling axe land a glancing blow, but instead he poured all of his formidable energy into his Primarch, healing his wounds and fortifying him as best as the librarian could. In his final moments, instead of avoiding the oncoming attacks of the Beast, all his son could think of was getting his genesire back in the fight.
The blade was coming down. There was nothing Horus could do to stop it, but he reminded himself there never was. This was a life freely offered in service to a greater cause. A cause that Horus now found himself the champion of. His duty was simple: kill this wretched monster, and do not let Corin's sacrifice be in vain.
He would not be found wanting.
The blow landed upon his son's head, cleaving the psychic hood Corin wore in two and killing the Chief Librarian, but the momentum Horus had accumulated was more than enough to carry him forward at top speed. The axe had become stuck in Corin's skull, perhaps with the help a small bit of psychic biomancy to make his own brain matter especially difficult to extract a weapon from. If that had indeed been the case, it provided Horus with all the opportunity he needed.
Taking advantage of the Beast's divided attention and lowered defenses, he slammed into the creature's side and set them both soaring through the air, Horus' third time doing so in as many minutes.
Out the window of the throne room they went, careening through the atmosphere until they impacted in a giant crater upon a battlement on the very first level of the fortress, a place where not a day earlier, two members of the Lunar Templar elite had discussed their own roles in this conflict.
The XVI Primarch had controlled his fall, and the ten meters of Ork flesh he fell with had absorbed almost all of the impact of their fall, smashing into the rockcrete with enough force to make a sizable crater.
Horus was no fool though. This was not even close to the amount of force he would need to kill this monstrosity. But that had not been the point of this little exercise. He needed to show this so-called Beast of Beasts that it could still bleed. That it could be killed, even if at a great cost.
Already its flesh was knitting back together, and it stood upright as it looked upon him with a great and terrible fascination.
"This…" it growled with vocal cords that had been thoroughly burned. "This is the proper fight I have been craving. I have had one of these in ages. Finally, a worthy foe's blood to anoint myself with upon my ascension!"
It gestured out to the battle raging outside the walls of the city, where it seemed as if there had finally been a lull in the fighting as both sides were inexorably drawn towards the two combatants above their heads.
"And you were even kind enough to grant me an audience for my crowning moment. It starts now, human. Witness the true beginning of the Greater Galactic Ork Empire!"
"That is where you are mistaken, you xenos scum." Horus said, conjuring the Longinus as he drew upon centuries of practice with the weapon. Instead of its normal spear formation, he willed it to become two golden balls of fire, one for each fist it enveloped. He was not going to stab this ork to death. He was going to beat it until every single spare bit of skin turned from green to black and blue.
"This may be my beginning, Urg Mag Uruk Thraka, but it is not yours," he declared.
"For you… this shall be your end!"