Ahemait Oua~Anabasis

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Battle Details

Type: Battle
Date: 005.009.M31
Sub-Sector:Cambrius Sub-Sector
System: Ahemait System
Planet: Ahemait Oua
Victor: Unresolved
Draw: y
Influence: 5


Forces:

Loyalists Involved In The Conflict

Army:L-VII-2023



Traitors Involved In The Conflict

Army:L-XV-1589




Battle Summary

Astyages cautiously studied the bridge and ruins below. Before Nikaea, he would have reached out with his inner senses, and despite the Edict, he still yearned to do so. As it was, he had to rely of the cruder senses of his armour. It still felt like being blind. The Imperial Fists had been gathering in the shelter of the older forts, little more than stone walls after all these centuries. His own position was better - the bunkers were of no military use since the Compliance of the Ahemait system, but they might keep his brothers alive until they could be rescued.

He felt one of his men move up to join him at the barricade. "Any word?" he asked.

"None good, magister. The fleet have sent what they can, but the orbital battle..."

The other Prosperan sighed. "Such is life, my brother." He gave a small snort of laughter, as the irony of their situation occurred to him.

"Magister?"

Astyages gestured to the ruins on the slope opposite, and the yellow-armoured troops within. "The Fists. Who would have thought they'd have a use for archaeology?"

They laughed together, and instantly fell silent at a signal on the vox. "Movement."

"How many?"

"All of them, magister."

Astyages signaled his troops - they moved silently into position, poised and ready to fend off the charge. Below, the Imperial Fists were rushing out of the cover of the ruins, towards the bridge and the dried-up river-bed. He gave the Master of Signals the order. "Ruination."

The explosives the Sons had planted in ruins hours before the Fists arrived erupted, shattering the weed-filled courtyards and toppling the ancient sandstone blocks. The charge faltered, and recovered, even with a quarter of their number buried in the rubble. "Damnation." breathed the Prosperan.

"Magister? Your orders?" The Fists would be within range of fire soon, so soon. There had to be some way to salvage the situation. Even after the disastrous parley, even after the firefight at the bastion, there had to be SOME way to save his brother-savants without shedding more Astartes blood.

"Incoming! Drop pod en route, magister! Not one of ours!"

Astyages gave the second order, even as the sorrow of it broke his heart. "Devastation." His men opened fire, deliberately low, into the legs of the charging Fists. If enough of them were crippled, surely the Fists would break off the attack, SURELY they would earn the time they needed-

The drop pod arrived, a thunderclap, a meteor, a hammer-blow from the sky that blinded Astyages and the Sons with a blast of fire, molten sand, and burning dust. The capsule was huge, rivaling the size of the bunkers the Sons had occupied. "Sebek!" His brothers obeyed instantly, turning their fire towards whatever would emerge from the smoke of the landing.

It was a Leviathan.

Astyages had room to ponder the symbology of this, even as the dreadnought killed his men. Even as the horror of phosphex rained down on the barricade, and his men began to die. The Leviathan was the Fists incarnate, an indomitable fortress, a bastion of wrath. "Shemesh-Edom. Fall back!" The bunkers were not important of themselves, but would be a tomb for the Sons if they tried to face the war machine. If rescue was coming, it would have to find them on the hillside.

The Leviathan pursued. The Fists were coming, so fast, so fast! His brother-savant died at the Leviathan's hand, even as his melta-charge opened a wound in the monster's side. Astyages moved in, driving the hooked tip of his khopesh into the wound, to hook and sever vital systems. To buy some time! Even a few more seconds for his brothers! The dreadnought fell, still reaching out to rend and destroy, as the Fists engulfed them. All was dust in his visor, yellow shapes in yellow dust as the Sons fought for their lives, fought back to back, surrounded, overwhelmed - and the dust was swept away in a roar of engines, and their rescuers arrived to turn the tide of fate.


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