Lost Technology

Imperial record speaks of a Rogue Trader and his small fleet operating outside Imperial Space, in the Northern Galactic fringes, reporting a find of immense potential. Initial reports of pre-Imperial technology and possible Standard Template Technology led to the establishment of a large, permanent excavation and the launch of an Adeptus Mechanicus Tech Guard expedition.

Recent transmissions were received by the astropaths aboard a Dark Angel Strike Cruiser returning from campaign in the same area. Prior to relay transmission toward Imperial Space, the content was examined by the Master of the Fleet, as dictated by protocol. The messages were garbled and incomplete, presumably because of the distance and potential Warp activity, but they describe bitter conflict and speak of technology gone mad; metal monsters and bloody battles. The natural assumption was that the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Rogue Trader both staked claim to the discoveries, and the conflict escalated from that point. However, the mention, however incomplete of the powered armored “Angels in Black” fighting in the conflict could not be ignored.

The transmission was not relayed, and the Dark Angel Strike Cruiser altered course immediately to investigate.

The initial Dark Angel reconnaissance force encountered located one of the expeditions’ staging areas, and immediately came under attack by a force of Necron raiders. The combined marine force, led by Epistolary Lucian and Dreadnaught Crassis wiped the Necrons out, but not before taking heavy casualties, including Crassis himself. While searching the destroyed base camp for clues as to what had happened earlier, Epistolary Lucian discovered a badly damaged piece of very old space Marine armor was found in the midst of several hundred of guardsmen. It was black, probably an early version of Mk V armor. The wings on the shoulder plates were readily identified. The Fallen were here.

Because of the confirmed Fallen activity, Chaplain Brocastus led a large Deathwing Detachment into the next battle. An even larger Necron formation was reported blocking the valley leading to the main excavations. It was determined that such a large alien force could not be left unaccounted for so near the excavations, or any further investigation would be under permanent threat of attack, so the Deathwing moved in.

“Chaplain Brocastus looked across the field at the eerie metal army facing them. There was no movement, no sound. Nothing he associated with even the most disciplined armies as they prepared for battle. No matter. He grunted and voxed to the Deathwing Sergeants as they led their men out to their jump off points.

“Straight advance, no subtlety. Keep your Squads spread from each other and hold at the streamline. Pour it all into the Warriors. Make them split their return fire and keep them from targeting the Crusader. Once we reach their ranks it is all over.”

Brocastus stumped up the Assault Ramp after his 6 man element. As they checked their Lighting Claws and Thunder Hammer, he opened the vox to all Deathwing units, and began the Litanies of Battle.”

Four Deathwing Squads held traded fire with the superior numbers of the Necron force, holding them off for long enough for Brocastus and his Assault Terminators to reach the Necron lines. Under their onslaught, the alien army phased out of view, and the Deathwing gathered the dead and prepared to return to the Battle Barge and await the next strike.

“The Deathwing looked around in stunned silence. The scorched earth, blood, and smoke of battle covered the field, but the enemy was gone without a trace. After a moment, Sergeants barked out orders, and the recovery effort began. Brocastus stood alone on the hilltop watching his men’s efforts. They had fought well, but many good Brothers had fallen. Many of the sacred suits of armor, and even the mighty Crusader, were heavily damaged. How many more would follow before they unlocked the secrets of this dead planet, and what did the Fallen want with it?”

Meanwhile, an additional, unexpected band of warriors arrived planet side and began their own investigation into what was unfolding on the ancient tomb world.

“Hours of travel had been broken for a brief rest. The ten figures were near invisible, their black armour concealed by both the darkness of the hour and the terrain of the dead world. So far they hadn’t found their objective, but they had located occasional shallow graves holding men or machines, suggesting that they were on the right track. For the explorers to leave damaged vehicles behind implied that they had been moving at some speed.

There was, of course, no physical evidence of the presence of the Dark Angels, although the few people at the makeshift starport had been all too willing to tell the newcomers of the arrival of more warships so shortly after the Rogue Trader and Adeptus Mechanicus missions. When the shuttle landed, the locals were very disappointed to see so few men, and were even more disappointed to see that they wore the red robes of the Redemption. It had been difficult to persuade them to transport the men and their “shrine” twenty kilometres towards the area that the Rogue Trader had been heading to, but money had calmed their fear to a manageable level. Of course, after the vehicles had retreated the men unloaded their wargear from the “shrine”, moved on another 20k, and hid it and their robes among the ruins of an ancient building.

Brother Remiel arose and deployed his men in search formation. Befitting warriors who had trained together for almost incalculable periods, they moved silently, only the slightest hints of sign language being required to supplement their near telepathic understanding of each other. Their mission was vague. Certainly Cypher had been here before, his exploration of the tomb worlds of the Necrons not being prevented by previous losses. His more recent pawns had managed to send him some kind of message, and thus there had been the request for the men of the Order to carry out the secondary assessment. Remiel believed that most, if not all, of Cypher’s agents in the Imperial explorations were dead, and that this was probably linked to the presence of Dark Angels. Of course, they could have been killed by the Necrons while waiting for back-up…

They soon found evidence of a struggle, with recently expended bolter shells littering the ground. Occasionally larger casings, almost certainly from assault cannon, were also visible. There was no other sign of explorers, Necrons or Dark Angels, but Remiel was taking no chances. His autosenses swept the area for hidden scanning devices, and he soon picked up the remote Auspex that the Unforgiven had left. Another case of modern technology having lower operational capacity than the ancient devices that his men carried. While Duma’s squad moved, ghostlike, into a perimeter position, he approached Turel, who was already moving towards his leader.

As the most technically adept member of his squad Turel would have responsibility for causing the Unforgiven’s device to fail, without it appearing to the monitors as though it had been deactivated through hostile action. This would take time, and Remiel was acutely aware that time was not on his side. By spending too long in one place they would risk the attentions of the ancient inhabitants of this world. His men had already been fully conscious for over 60 standard hours, of which more than 50 had been spent travelling. Hopefully they would be heading out before daybreak, but if they could find no evidence of Cypher’s agents in the meantime, they’d be pushing their luck.

Turel informed him that he wouldn’t be able to cause the Auspex to malfunction without assistance. However, analysis of weather patterns indicated that a small windstorm would be hitting their location within the next three hours. If they could keep moving until the storm arrived they could take advantage of the natural phenomenon to deal with the Auspex. Unfortunately plasma was right out – the pistols simply didn’t have the range, and the energy signature would be picked up, at least momentarily, by the Dark Angels. With the storm a man could get close enough, but a physical weapon such as a bolter would be inaccurate in the expected weather conditions. Turel suggested that Remiel use his power over the warp to deal with it. With a lack of any other plausible means, Remiel agreed.

In the intervening period they would take the opportunity to scout the surrounding area for evidence of hidden tombs. Once located they would be avoided. Between them Remiel and Duma had ten men – a major deployment for the Order, but only enough to resist Necrons for the briefest of periods before casualties made battle futile. And they hadn’t survived all the upheavals of the last ten thousand years or so in order to die pointlessly in this place.

Another hour of travel led them into the furthest tendrils of the storm, whipping up the loose silt that covered the surface of the entire world. Shortly afterwards they came across the desiccated remains of a large number of human beings, left unburied. Many had been reduced to skeletons and a number of them to even less. Again, signs of battle were visible – and not from the humans whose corpses lay here. More bolter shells, and even some small fragments of a vehicle. Autosense scans showed negative for surveying devices, and a cautious approach was made. Analysis of the shattered remains of the armour strongly suggested a fragment of a Rhino, certainly a 11b of some description. There wasn’t any paint left on it, but Remiel would be willing to bet that it had been dark green. Of more interest, however, was Melchiah’s discovery of a scrap of uniform from one of the humans. It was a match for that of the force that Cypher’s agent had been attached to. Of the agent himself there was no sign.

Another quick rest, and then they started to head back. After disabling the Unforgiven’s auspex and examining the area in greater detail they would head out into unknown territory, moving parallel to their previous course and eventually rejoining the trail. Remiel hoped that they would find somewhere defensible before dawn.”

In orbit, the Dark Angels flag ship “Shield of Caliban” received a distress call from the exploratory camp and the main excavation site. Apparently some of either the Rogue Trader’s forces or the Adeptus Mechanicus were still holding out on the surface. A long range scan from the descending Thunder Hawk had detected life yet in the ruins of the camp, which had been erected at the base of an obelisk of colossal proportions. The Dark Angels strike force, led by Grand Master Arakis began to spread out, searching for survivor and any information on the whereabouts of the Fallen who had attacked them. Nearing the perimeter of the camp, several of the Dark Angels squads radioed in; they were not alone in their search.

“Panting in exhaustion, Mangos Kane, ducked into the smoking ruin of prefab building as a spray of bolter shells struck the scrambling tech adepts. A servitor armed with a heavy bolter opened fire just a few meters from his position “The base was under attack! Who?! Why?!” The thought had barely formulated before he fell blinded to the ground as a brilliant lance of plasma hit the servitor, instantly vaporizing it’s upper half. The few defenders were quickly being overwhelmed by methodical fire from their assailants. Kane risked a glace around the wall. In the trees to the south of the camp, immense figure in black power armor rained fire into the site. Focusing his bionic eye onto one, he saw the distinct winged sword motif emblazoned onto their shoulder pads. A group was in the camp, amongst the warehouses! He ducked back into cover. Muttering a prayer to the Emperor, Kane activated his distress signal, hoping help would come before these avatars of death. .”

The combined Dark Angel Battle force fought against a large Necron Army, led by the Nightbringer

“Interrogator Chaplain Isaiah watched with contempt as the Xenos formed for battle. That they dare set foot on one of the Emperor’s worlds was trespass enough, but they now sought the Dark Angel’s quarry, somewhere in the ruins. The Grand Master’s orders were explicit though, that the priority was to find the survivors first, before delivering righteous wrath to these mechanical abominations. Directly before his squad, a blasphemous xenos towered above even Brother Gabrilis, one of the strike forces’ revered Dreadnoughts. The vox lines were alive with reports of alien assault units closing on the western flank of the strike force. Isaiah smiled grimly to himself as the order was given and the heavy weapons of the Emperor’s finest gave voice.

Arakis watched in horrified fascination at the creature before him. He directed every heavy weapon at his disposal to fire upon the massive alien, but to little avail, it’s invulnerable hide shrugging off superheated plasma, lasers, and blessed assault cannon fire. It fired a stream of lightning into Dreadnought Gabrilis, blowing away his combat weapon with a shriek of tortured metal. In desperation he engaged his combi-plasma gun, and switching to its plasma chamber, fired. A shrill hiss came from the baroque weapon, and an instant later, it exploded, showering him with lethal energy than his armor was not proof against. As he fell to one knee, Isaiah’s Apothecary Brother Tobias applied pain suppressors to the wounds, and he rose again.

Isaiah saw in amazement as Arakis’ temperament plasma weapon overheated, wounding him, but it seemed Brother Tobias was up to the task. There were more pressing matters at hand. Languid creatures assailed Arakis’ squad, but the stalwart Deathwing held, smashing one of the constructs and causing them to retreat. His own squad came under threat. Shimmering metallic insects flew through the air, their soulless eyes fixed on the Command Squad. Above the din of bolter fire, Isaiah cried “Dark Angels; Behold the Sacred Standard of Devastation!” Brother Damiel unfurled the sacred banner, touched by the hand of the Emperor himself. With a resounding cheer, the Sons of the Lion unleashed hell into the enemy, bright bolts of plasma tearing them from the sky in a shower of debris. Melta fire hosed them, and yet more were demolished, but an instant later, they where upon him. Smashing the diminutive annoyances aside, he shouted a prayer of thanks to the God-Emperor for the chance to smite His enemies. The squad destroyed many of the insects, who could do little but scratch the Marine’s power armor. Brother-Sergeant Uzziel disperse the swarms with lethal swats of his power fist. They had halted the first assault, but the leviathan loomed just beyond.

Arakis stared at the huge xenos, approaching his squad. The beast had resisted the best the Emperor’s finest could give, and kept coming. He resolved to finish the matter. Sword in hand and Emperor in heart, he vaulted over a lower wall, the Deathwing close behind.

Deathwing squad beta reported, and having scoured the first of the buildings, and found nothing, took a position upon the roof top. Seconds later, a pair of missiles speared from their position, and with a thunderous impact smashed into the Nightbringer. The Dark Angels followed suite, and the holy blaze of plasma and laser tore into the fearsome creature. His own Terminators fired, the lethal bullets rending whole pieces from its body as the squad broke into a run towards the xenos. Isaiah and his command group gave covering fire, but suddenly as the bright flare of plasma struck it, the Nightbringer stopped. There was a sudden intake of air, before the behemoth imploded into ruin from the breach in its metallic hide. Arakis and his squad were hurled backwards, and only their immensely thick Tactical Dreadnought Armor saved them. The squad rose, dazed. Brother-Sergeant Octavious veteran of their long hunt did not rise however, his breastplate and helmet dinted in where he had taken the full force of the impact from the fore of his squad. Arakis said a brief prayer to the Emperor for him, before furtively viewing the battle once more.

Seeing lethal skimmers engage the second Deathwing squad, Arakis radioed the Predator “Sword of the Lion” to engage, and was satisfied when a moment later intense light shot into two if the flying Necronthyre. Two fell with a muted crash, but one, more nimble remained, training it’s long barreled gun at the bone white armored figures.

Arakis felt his pride turn to surprise as one of the damaged skimmers, hit directly by a lascannon morphed and repaired itself, leaving little more than scorching to mark the weapon’s violent blow. He muttered a hasty, preventative prayer for thinking them so easily defeated. All of a sudden, crackling warp energy lashed drunkenly around the Necron lines, and for a moment Arakis thought the Emperor had intervened to save the hard pressed Dark Angels. But an instant later, a xenos Monolith materialized within their ranks, bringing more warriors to battle. Steeled against such horrors, the Deathwing resolutely advanced. Further on the eastern flank, hunched metallic warriors rose from the ground, confronting Deathwing Squad Beta as another of their number was blasted apart in a blaze of lethal emerald energy. “Our faith is our shield” Grand Master Arakis intoned, his voice barely audible over the whir of the assault cannon motors. “Angels, advance!”

Isaiah’s eyes where not on the distant warriors however. Just few meters ahead, a pair of wraiths emerged from a burned out prefab building, chasing the tech priest, their quarry! All around his squad, the Dark Angels planted their boots and gave the aliens everything they had. In the distance warriors fell, and the Monolith exploded, it’s hull pierced by a brilliant spear of energy. Ahead the terrified adept was snared by a wraith and fell to the ground, his killer poised serpentine above. There was not much time. With a roar of “For the Emperor, and for the Lion”, the Dark Angels crashed into the wraiths. Isaiah fired his pistol at point blank range, blowing apart one of the Necronthyre. He hefted the prone man, and felt a blow glance off his shoulder pad as the wraith attacked, immediately before Brother-sergeant Uzziel’s Power fist settled the matter. Isaiah hurried back to their lines, carrying the unconscious man lightly over one shoulder. His brothers could dispense the Emperor’s justice here. He had more pressing matters to attend to. . . . . .

Arakis heard the heavy boots on the as they strode up the long hallway towards the inner command center upon the Shield of Caliban. “Is it done Brother-Chaplain?” he asked, knowing who stood behind him. Isaiah stated manner-of-factly “It is Grand Master. The Tech Adept has provided us with the information. We know what the fallen sought, and where they must flee.” “You have done well as always Isaiah, you are dismissed.” Said Arakis, and the Chaplain turned and left. “Arakis to the bridge. Come to new heading, we have a new destination.”

The Combined Dark Angels Battle Force managed to capture and interrogate a surviving Tech Adept. From his description, the situation became clearer.

The Rogue Trader’s expedition had unearthed evidence pointing to and STC Weapon’s System of immense power. The value of such a find was immense, and they immediately staked their claim and set about excavations at dozens of potential sites. The Adeptus Mechanicus sent a Tech Guard Force to “aid” in the discovery. Tensions and mistrust were understandably high, and when one of the sites provided direct leads to the final resting place of the STC, outright combat broke out.

The Rogue Trader’s retinue had apparently been infiltrated by agents of the Fallen, as, marines in black led the fighting, cutting bloody swathes through the Tech Guard. However, the battle must have woken an even more ancient power, as Necron Warriors rose and began to indiscriminately attack all the interlopers. The battle turned into a three-way affair, and all sides suffered heavy casualties, with the Tech Guard all but wiped out.

The Senior Tech Adept and his last remaining troops were able to escape with the location of the STC intact, but had been constantly fighting a battle for survival from the ever growing Necron horde. More importantly, it is only a matter of time before the surviving Rogue Trader/Fallen force decodes the information too.

After providing all the information they had, the surviving Tech Adept and his last men were executed for their own good, while Grand Master Arakis prepared a strike force to assault the STC location.

“Grand Master Arakis of the Dark Angels directed his forces with the confidence of centuries of battle experience. The dig site was ahead, guarded only scantly by Imperial Guard forces. It would appear that the rumors were true. Surrounded by a scant series of improvised barricades was erected what appeared to be some heavy artillery piece. It was partially ruinous, but its size betrayed its potentially devastating power. Ruined as it was, Arakis did not trust its alien appearance. He deployed his men cautiously, but seemingly without need; there were hardly any defenders at the site. His own Command Squad and Veteran Sergeant Morton’s Assault Marines moved to take it. In a ruined building in the extreme south-west of the perimeter, his Devastators trained their Heavy Bolters on the single Guard unit stationed around the defensive perimeter. The bark of Bolter fire broke the silence of early evening, and before the unfortunate Guardsmen could find cover, they all died under the lethal volley. “Better they die, souls pure, than dabble in the heresy they were attempting” he mused. Matter-of-factly, the Dark Angels advanced towards the site.

Arakis paused. “Shield of Caliban to Grand Master Arakis” stated the warrant officer in orbit.

“Long range scanners detect incoming Valkerye Troop transports inbound, sizable Guard reinforcements en route.” he stated efficiently before closing the channel.

Another com-link icon appeared and Arakis opened it apprehensively. “Lion’s Sword Land Speeder reporting. We have completed the area sweep and are en route to your position. Sizeable Necronthyre force massing in the North-East sector of the outer perimeter.”
 
The Necron force was now clearly visible, having come out of the shadow of a large cliff. The Xenos force was small, but Arakis had fought these aliens too many times to be deceived; there were more to come, he was sure of it. Just as he had formulated the thought, the familiar, crackling electricity of teleportation appeared, and an xenos Monolith materialized at the head of their force. Serpentine Wraiths also appeared, beyond the cliffs. The Necron force was yet out of range, and Arakis gave thanks to the Emperor there were no Destroyers in the force- as yet. Certainly there were more reinforcements yet to arrive.

 Suddenly, there was the hum to anti-grav motors as the Lion’s Sword dived onto the battle field from high altitude, firing its Assault Cannon and Heavy Bolter into the advancing Warriors, even as the expert pilot pulled up sharply, causing 3 to fall. Giving thanks for their own reinforcements, Arakis activated his Teleport Homer, and Deathwing Squad Retribution teleported into the action, their Assault Cannons and Storm Bolters firing a stream of vengeance into the oncoming skin festooned Xenos, shredding the nearest in a hail of heavy caliber bullets. Arakis radioed the Tactical squads, who found a target truly worthy of their attention. Two bright lances of energy shot from their positions, one having no affect, but the other struck some invisible weak point. Its armor buckled, and hellish green flame spouted from ruptures in its gigantic hull as the Monolith exploded, but this had no effect on the well armored aliens, who resolutely continued their advance.

A shriek of jet wash heralded the Drop Troopers’ transports as the made a pass over the battlefield. Arakis’ keen eye sight could pick out individual troopers as they activated their grav chutes, and descended swiftly, but with control to the ground. Two small platoons landed, one along each of their flanks, along with Command HQ. One infantry squad recklessly landed too close to the Assault Marines and were all slain as they desperately tried to land. Arakis had no time for such distractions, however. Accompanying the Regimental Command group was their quarry; Fallen 056: arch traitor and blasphemer against their Chapter’s honor!

Tactical Squad Alpha reported a Chimera having entered the Northwest corner of the battlefield. The Imperial Guard immediately made their allegiances clear, and all opened fire on the advancing Dark Angel assault forces. Blessedly, their rapid decent meant that only a few troopers were able to get shots off in their haste to land, and none caused any damage. However, Command HQ, filled with the Fallen’s own treachery opened devastating fire upon the noble Deathwing. Arakis watched with loathing as the plasma weapons of the enemy impacted the Terminator’s ranks. But he thanked the Lion for his own Helmet as its potent energy field deflected the lethal barrage of plasma and las fire. Only one of the fearsome warriors fell to this lethal star-fire. Arakis said a short prayer for him. The Necrons were still advancing, almost close enough to contest their objective, but a Fallen on the battlefield was an affront to the Chapter he could not ignore. Arakis quickly and efficiently directed his unit’s firepower. “Opening a channel to all units, he intoned, “Let them feel the wrath of the Angels of Death!”

A roar of righteous fury rose from the Space Marine line, followed immediately by a hail of Bolter shells. The Drop Troop units were scythed apart, the Deathwing accounting for all but a couple members of one squad, and the Devastator’s Heavy Bolters killing all but one man of another. Mixed casualties came from other units as the Dark Angels unleashed their weapons on the traitors. Over on the left flank, Arakis saw the Assault Squad fire their pistols, and although one died as his weapon malfunctioned, they activated their jump packs and flew into a mass of Guardsmen, cutting them all down and continuing their rampage into the Platoon’s Officers. But right ahead was the true prize. In unison, the Command Squad shouted their battle cry, “Repent! For Tomorrow You Die!”

Ironically, death would come much sooner. His men smashed into the Guardsmen, killing with great fury. Arakis’ sword moved in a blur, parrying a blow from Captain, before a lightning riposte severed his head. A Commissar swung his power fist at the Grand Master. But he was dead before he could react. The Fallen was firing his bolter on full automatic, spraying shots wildly into the combat. Arakis swung his Sword of Secrets double handed, and severed the bolter as the Fallen tried to defend himself. The Fallen looked shocked for a moment, before Arakis struck him across the face with his pistol, knocking him out. “Take him Brother Uzziel” he said as the bulky Sergeant hefted his prone form “I’m certain Isaiah has something special prepared for this heretic”.

Arakis offered a swift prayer of thanks to the Emperor, as another blemish on the honor of the Chapter was removed. More Drop Troops were arriving, but that was unimportant. Their strength had been broken, and only the Necron forces now posed a serious threat. The tempo of the Guard fire increased sharply, and the Lion’s Sword came under fire. The pilot managed to avoid the majority to the shots, but ultimately a lucky plasma round damaged its engine, and the skimmer crashed.

Arakis reproached himself for thinking the traitors so easily beaten, but was satisfied as the Assault Marines, thirsting for vengeance, cut the Lieutenant and his men to shreds. They suddenly found themselves very isolated, as the Necrons closed for the kill. Green lightning speared from countless arcane alien weapons and the noble marines fell. They had little time to react to the volley, before Wraiths were upon them, slashing and killing with their razor sharp claws, Sergeant Morton Struck out with his Power Fist, but his blows passed right through the Xenos, meeting no more resistance than air. Beaten but unbowed, the Dark Angels would not retreat in the Emperor’s sight.

Arakis shouted orders, and the Command Squad and Deathwing raced to save their Brothers. Suppressive fire raked the nearby Guardsmen, and Arakis’ assault forces fired upon the Necrons. A few fell under a storm of bolter shots, and more as plasma bolts hit them, and Warriors fell, their armor melting under the lethal energy. But it was too late for the Assault Marines. The last of them fell to the Wraiths, their armor seemingly offering no defense against the terrible claws, while Brother Morton also died, bayoneted by the traitors before he could bring his lethal fist to bear. The Dark Angels roared in anger at their Brother’s deaths, and Arakis ordered his command forward. Sparing a glance behind, he saw the Deathwing had stopped, and were now grappling with a pair of rather nimble Guard, who they could not crush. Arakis grunted in anger at the delay.

Although it was too late to save their comrades, Arakis found his squad completely exposed to every weapon in the Necron army. In unison the Warriors mechanically raised their weapons and took aim, a soulless glint of vengeance in their cold eyes. Arakis led his squad in prayer, fully expecting to meet the Emperor as the Xenos prepared to fire.

“During our darkest hour, He watches over us and guides our hand”.

His squad answered, “His Will is ever strong, We cannot fail in his sight”.

‘The Emperor protects” whispered Arakis as the enemy opened fire.

Alien witch-fire seared his unit, as fully every gun was brought to bear upon the loyal Dark Angels. Angry green lightning struck their armor, but its power could not contend with His immortal Will. The Angels of Death strode though the fire, unharmed by its blasphemous effects. Alien skimmers beyond; Heavy Destroyers joined in the fire but nor could they harm His glorious personification. The Angels had needed a miracle, and the Emperor had saved them from certain death.

The rallying cry was “My Faith is My Shield!”, and the squad gave voice as they met the charge of the xenos assault troops, meeting them blade for blade, blow for blow. Initially a few men fell, but they repulsed the Necronthyre, slaying all but a single wraith that fled their wrath. More of the aliens closed on the unit, but the Dark Angels firebase voiced its heavy weapons. Lascannon tore down a fearsome Tomb Sypder, and Bolter rounds punched many Warriors from their feet, including five slain by the Deathwing, who had recently “dealt” with the Guard. They charged into the Necron Warriors smashing them aside with mighty sweeps of their power fists, and their opponents could do little in return but scratch their armor. The Xenos were resolute however, and despite their huge losses held. It was at this moment, Arakis saw a most unimaginable sight.

A great cheer rose from the surviving Imperial Guard, and they charged into the Necrons, massed bayonets accounting for more than a few of the enemy. The Deathwing in the same combat, fought valiantly, but a being of great evil strode from the alien ranks, its vicious scythe cutting down every noble warrior in reach. The power fists responded knocking down several foes. Trapped between the two masses of enemies and greatly outnumbered, the Necrons fled, only narrowly escaping the vengeful pursuit of the Drop Troops. Although they had taken many casualties, eight of the metallic warriors rose to fight again, and another Dark Angel fell to their shots as they regrouped for the imminent attack.

“Grand Master” intoned the sergeant of the Devastators. “The surviving Imperial Guard are hailing us. They wish to surrender unconditionally, and join the glorious Emperor once more”.

Arakis’ voice was cold “Only in Death is the Absolution, Brother Tanthious. Cleanse these heretics!”

 The Space Marines knew the truth in his words, and even as the order was spoken, the Chimera exploded, most of its passengers dying in it’s burning wreck. The Hardened Veterans died, cut down by Heavy Bolter fire even as they chased the Necrons. The two remaining Deathwing opened fire upon the Storm Troopers, Sergeant’s Atriel’s Combi Flamer cutting down half, and the Assault cannon killing more before the stunned survivors were finished off in combat. Having dealt with the few remaining Guard, Arakis radioed for the tactical squads to take the objective, and led the charge against the last of Necrons. Plasma fire felled several, before the squad impacted, killing many more for no losses. Sergeant Uzziel smashed both remaining Destroyers to the ground, who had strayed too close. Victory was in sight. . . .

The Dark Angels smashed through the Xenos Warriors with righteous hatred, felling on after another. The Necrons were resolute however, and the charge lost momentum. Slowly the alien’s weight in numbers began to tell. It seemed no matter how many they killed there were more. Arakis saw Veterans of the Deathwing, Brothers Tobias and Damiel fall bludgeoned by heavy alien weapons, and the Sacred Standard wavered. Arakis caught it and with renewed fury attacked the Necronthyre. He shouted for his squad to sound off, and only two did so: Sergeant Uzziel and Veteran Marine Abshae.

 They fought as men possessed with great determination to succeed, smiting the press of enemies with powered Sword and Fist. Arakis strode forward into the enemy, felling them quickly in his fury. It was then that he saw an Alien of immortal malice, a Lord among the Necronthyre. Three swift strokes of his sword beat passed its defenses, and plunged into its ornate chest plate, but seeming met no resistance as the blade swept through. It stepped inside his guard, slashing a great scythe, which cut through his power armor, wounding him. But from behind came a resounding cry of “For the Emperor!” as the two remaining Veterans in Tactical Dreadnought Armor charged, beating aside Necrons, one after another. The xenos paused fighting, and slowly faded from view. The Grand Master spun his sword to rest point down in the dusty earth, resting wearily on the pommel. He met Sergeant Atriel’s gaze. The hulking Terminator said simply “Victory is ours, Grand Master”. Arakis nodded slightly. He raised his voice over the dying battle din “Come Brothers, let us pray.

After a long and bloody combat, the Dark Angels were victorious. The Necron menace was beaten back, and the objective taken. Whether it had been salvageable at one time, the STC device was obliterated by the fierce fighting. Most importantly, the Fallen commander had been captured, his forces destroyed and his plans seemingly disrupted before completion. The Shield of Caliban prepared to leave orbit and to return Fallen 056 to the Rock for a long awaited homecoming.

Meanwhile, planet side...

“Weeks had passed since the first evidence of the Unforgiven had been found, and during that period the men of the Order had carried out their mission with their armour at minimal power, to prevent detection. The Dark Angels’ scrying device had been disabled and examined, the area of battle was investigated, and a number of mountains and other geographical formations had been surveyed. Remiel believed that they had located at least one tomb. More importantly, however, they had located a number of signs of the Adeptus Mechanicus mission. After several near discoveries, mainly due to servo-skulls and similar sensor-servitors, the tech priests’ primary force had been found. It had been trailed for two days until they started to excavate, using a number of arcane tools. The men of the Order had dug in to monitor their progress, easily defeating attempts by airmobile guard units to detect intruders.

The adepts had dedicated their strange biomechanical servants to examining the artefacts that they were uncovering, thus allowing Remiel and Duma’s men an easier time of staying hidden. On site for three days now, they had discovered that their quarries were accompanied by another Fallen, who was helping to direct the unearthing of some form of ancient weapon. This had been a surprising revelation, and there had been much debate as to whether he had been in contact with the one accompanying the Rogue Trader’s force, and if they should try to communicate with him. Before this could be resolved, however, events took a different turn. Firstly, the adepts and many of their servants headed off north, and had not returned after a day. Then, scant minutes previously a number of metallic xenos had appeared, almost as if from nowhere. Things were complicated further when the men of the Order watched as an Unforgiven force swiftly moved in and methodically took both the guardsmen and aliens apart.

Remiel looked out from under a layer of silt, viewing the carnage in the valley. He was reliant on his optical sighting system, as the arrival of Unforgiven confirmed the need to power all electronics down to minimal operating level. Hence the majority of his auto senses, as well as the stealth capabilities of the armour, were deactivated. The space marines (Adeptus Astartes was a term that Remiel used exclusively for members of the old loyalist legions) would have emission-detection technology capable of locating them if they were active. He carefully looked across at Turel. The other marine was viewing the battle through a monocular periscope, another of his little toys. The shrouded viewing lens made it almost undetectable, doubly so at long range, allowing Turel’s body to remain completely concealed. Beyond Turel lay Duma, also watching the show. Remiel was conversing with him using gestures – Duma no longer bothered with audible speech, happy to communicate in the silence of the battle signs. Of course, this was also partly practical – the risk of a radio transmission being picked up by enemies was far too high.

Duma signed that the Dark Angels had arrived at speed, on foot, while the guardsmen were distracted by the xenos. The Unforgiven’s transport – almost certainly a strike cruiser – must have picked up the energy output of the Necron arrival, and the marine leader chose to prevent them from gaining control of the site. How long they had been monitoring the adepts was a matter of conjecture, but their actions implied that they were as yet unaware of the presence of the Order. Meanwhile, the typical Unforgiven pride was overcoming their tactical sense. The Dark Angels were too arrogant to let the two forces fight it out before dealing with the remnants; they would have to charge in and take the area themselves, although capturing the Fallen did provide them with an additional incentive…

The men were on full battle status, despite believing that the Dark Angels would have tried to deal with the small Order force first if they were aware of it. That most of their armour systems were off-line was an immense danger; if seen they would be responding at greatly decreased operational capacity in the vital first moments of a contact. Because of this most of the men were vigilantly watching both the silt-covered hillock that they were hiding on and the main approaches to it; a single teleporting squad could otherwise surprise them and inflict significant casualties.

Duma gestured suddenly. Even though he was communicating with only his left hand, Remiel could tell that he was amazed. The silent marine signed the presence of the Lion Helm. For it to be deployed in a force less than a half-company was enough to surprise him, and men with millennia of experience are not surprised very often. Was there a more substantial force in reserve, or fighting the rest of adepts, or was it a fake? Both men knew that several of the artefacts supposedly dating back to the founding had been replaced – they had seen the originals after all, and knew what had really happened to at least one of them. Another lie wouldn’t make much difference.

Leaving Turel to monitor the mopping up, Remiel consulted Duma. They both concluded that the next step was to find the remains of the Adeptus Mechanicus force – they would almost certainly be monitored, and either attacked by a ground force, or, more likely (given the number of Unforgiven casualties) punished by aerial and orbital strike. Within the hour Thunderhawks were picking up the Dark Angels, keeping the men of the Order very much under cover. Then the barrage began, and an area Remiel estimated at 5k to the north was hit from orbit. Two sweeps by Thunderhawks finished the job, and the Unforgiven left the world with a last display of destruction – the partly unearthed, hugely valuable weapon was destroyed by demolition charges activated after the last drop ship took off.

It was sixteen hours before they engaged their full suit systems. Despite signs that the Unforgiven’s ship had broken orbit once the Thunderhawks returned, nothing was left to chance. Only when the remaining adepts arrived to find their prize a twisted ruin did Remiel signal a return to operational capacity. As the broken remnants of the tech-guard moved out they were followed by ten shadows, determined to discover what Cypher had sent them to find…”