The Rallying of Trugoy~Ep.3 - Crushing of Grox
Loyalists Involved In The Conflict
Traitors Involved In The Conflict
With the revelation of the existence of underground titan hangers buried beneath the surface of Grox, the war on the planet evolved into a wide spread skirmish and exploration campaign with both factions scouring the world for more hidden caches. The primary Forge cities were firmly in the hands of the Loyalists, and they were being rapidly retrofitted and brought back online to assist in the war efforts, but it was quickly becoming evident that not all of the Forges were built over Titan Hangers like the first one had been.
Already a number of other smaller hanger complexes had been discovered by the Loyalists in a desolate mountain range, sunk deep into the rocky valleys of the terrain. Reports indicated that the Traitors had also found a number of locations in isolated and remote areas far from garrisoned Loyalist forces; whether these Hangers contained salvageable Engines is still unknown.
Even as more escorted survey teams are being dispatched it is clear, though, that time is rapidly running out. With the Nestro space station still being stabilised and the planets of Trugoy and Impasse deemed tactically unavailable for the time being, all focus has shifted to Grox and its potential influence over the System. The rebuffed Traitor fleet has reassembled and an orbital war has already commenced with more than a dozen large scale landings punching through the hastily erected defense network.
While the clear victors in the previous ground wars, the Loyalist are now spread thin and still the underdogs in the void. With the Warmasters forces focusing on a single target rather then a blanket attack on the entire system the next war on Grox is not far away and it will be one on a massive scale.......
Like the Nestro shipyards, Grox presented an opportunity; where Nestro could supply ships and refitting services for naval fleet, Grox had revealed itself to be a similarly capable facility for the mighty God Titans. Unlike Nestro, however, the planet of Grox was far too large to completely secure and investigate inside of the campaign, which meant that if the Traitors could not have it, no one would. With the previous ground war showing that the Loyalist had a solid control of the primary Warhound facility, and who knew what others, the decision was made to invade the world en mass, not to conquer but to destroy.
While the Loyalists suspected the invasion and had even redeployed auxiliary forces to help repel the attack, they only realised too late the intentions of the their enemy. Rather than attempting to seize strategic location and choke points on the planets the Warmasters forces landed well away from the known titan hangers and began amassing in previously surveyed zones known to be empty of any facilities. Believing themselves safe and able to refortify their locations, the orbital bombardment shattered the illusion. Using the Titan Hangers as a center piece to the defense plan, the Loyalist had relied on the fact that they anticipated the Traitors would want the facilities in tact as much as themselves, in the same way that the Nestro station had become a valuable commodity.
With the Titan Hangers taken out of the equation, the actual deployment of the defending forces were woefully vulnerable. Caught completely by surprise a good number of units were simply vaporised by the initial onslaught from orbit, the remaining forces scattered as quickly as possible, desperate to get out of the firing line of an enemy which could not be targeted. Which was exactly why the Traitors had deployed where they had; the moment the defending lines broke, the attackers launched their assault.
Column after column of armour smashed into the Loyalist disordered lines, an offensive front stretching for nearly five thousand kilometers decimated the first of line of defense and caused even more confusion within the planets remaining command echelon, most of whom were lying dead deep within the smoldering Titan Hangers. Pockets of resistance formed around the stronger Loyalist units, those unscathed by the Orbital assault either through defending a non vital location or being held in reserve. Rather than attempting to reform the previous defense lines which were aimed to protect a now destroyed prize the Loyalist feel back to higher ground, desperately attempting to regroup.
Again this was anticipated by the Warmasters strategists, and thus commenced the second stage of the assault. More then a dozen God engines strode into the fray, the battle swirling about them like grass being hewn by a farmers scythe. Plasma detonations vaporised infantry and plasteel alike, while mass reactive mega bolter volleys stripped ceramite from fortifications and armour. And while the planet itself groaned in protest to the torture it was enduring, the worst had not yet revealed itself.
Splitting the sky like a shattered glass panel, a massive orbital lander escorted by an entire wing of interceptors descended to the surface. The immediate disruption to the weather patterns and commencement of a continental wide storm of tremendous magnitude heralded the lander to be none other than the transport of a Warlord Titan. The moment the lander doors opened and allowed the monumental god machine to survey the battle it commenced firing. Bastions were obliterated and void shields were swept aside under the torrent of fire the monstrosity released, each step it took split the earth and it time it fired the heavens themselves caught aflame creating wild fires through the atmosphere. Its weaponry scorched the ground hundreds of kilometers at a time, thousands died, both Loyalist and Traitor alike, but it did not care, it was a good and they were merely ants.
Breaking off from the main engagement a score of Knights from House Tuatha turned their attention to the raging deity. Using both Imperial Fists and Militia armour to create a fast moving wedge they spearheaded through the enemy lines, now starting to break apart from the chaotic fire support hitting their own. The casualties were immense, hundreds of Loyalist lives peeled away every minute without event taking a tenth of their numbers in traitors deaths, instead they burned a road towards the Warlord Titan with their souls, allowing the sprinting Knights of Tuath a direct path to their target.
Like vipers attacking a beast the Knights swarmed the larger foe, their agility and speed allowing them to get inside the behemoths range. Bellowing in anger and then pain, the Warlord stumbled backwards as shot after shot tore into its chassis, its own void shields unable to protect it from attacks so close. Without supporting ground forces, the God Machine was helpless against the Knights, and in less time it took for it to reap its deadly toll on the field, it too was claimed as a casualty. Its colossal body falling the ground, triggering earthquakes across the entire continent.
The victory was short lived though, the damage had been done, the Loyalists were broken, smashed beyond recovery and the planet burned. Grox was no more, its part in this Campaign was at an end.
Reports from the Field
There it was again that clawing scratching sound. Was it louder this time, it did seem louder this time? Castyel hated the warp and every time he travel through it to him it felt like it was some how angry at him for leaving his Home world. There it was again like giant blades running the length of the Thanathos's Void shields. A smile broke Castyel's face baring his fangs a hallmark of being born on Nosgoth a small world trapped in a pocket of the warp itself.
"So you still show your talons to a son of the Lion and think they bring fear" he said look up from the Data slate that he had read over and over but still found himself rereading. At last His primarch had sent him and his men on a mission that would clear their honor. He read the last line of the message from his Primarch again "You were born a lion and a lion you will stay. El'Johnson"
Nosgoth his home and many thought of as a little sister to Caliban was once a jewel in the stars before Old night..Before yes but then came the warp cutting it off from the galaxy. Trapping ships there that traveled to close and turning it into a Death world. With Terra a forgotten memory its forests twisted, became dark and soon again covered most of the surface of this lush, green planet a mirror of those on Caliban as beautiful as they were deadly. There the people had fought a war against the twisted Creatures of the warp, a war that had seen all but one city fall by the time The Thanathos made land fall.
A Vengeance-class Grand Cruiser the first of it's kind to be made by at the new forge world of the Dark Angels. On root to Caliban loaded with new Mark 4 power armor, weapons, tanks all custom made and most importantly new Gene-seeds. The warp had ripped the great ship off course like many before and thrown them out within the gravity well of Nosgoth. Castyel could still remember that night and how he and his patrol had fought their way to the ship. It was majorly damaged but unlike every other ship he knew of had managed to land. In the years that followed Those few survivors of the landing fought side by side with the people of Nosgoth and soon embraced them as brothers. Test of both flesh and soul were then taken out by Primus Medica and librarians alike before the gene-seed Implants took place.
A growl escaped Castyel as he remembered the months of non stop testing he and his had under gone followed by the years that followed as they under went the changes to become Astartes, the war to reclaim Nosgoth and the repair of the Thanathos. They had been so proud when they had joined up with the Dark Angels fleet and were presented to the Lion himself. Only for Iflyon an envoy of Lorgar and his Imperial Heralds to denounce them as unfit to be Astartes. Claiming them unclean due to the variance in their genetic make up. The time from Old night had left its mark on the people of Nosgoth with part of their genome becoming partly feline in nature. El'Johnson had turned on Iflyon with cold rage but with words as calm as if he was asking for a glass of water stated "Russ has his wolves I have my lions" Iflyon simple replied "I must get back to Lorgar with the update of your progress if you want to keep your pets that is up to you." making his exit.
Now Iflyon and his legion had been unmarked as traitors and reports had them currently on Grox. They where only 13 hours out from make land fall on Grox and Castyel Gray Praetor of the Dark Angels Iron Wing would deliver Iflyon a message from his Primarch. He place the data slate back on the desk and he stood, that message catching his eye as he did so "Your Orders are to show them why we are called the Angels of Death!" "With pleasure my lord" he said as he walked from his cabin to over see his troops readiness.
Lord Marshal Maas Ventor looked down on the planet Grox from orbit, it looked a far cry from the barren, irradiated world he knew it to be. Terracotta earth, dust really, dead and dry. The corpses of the fallen don’t rot here, but desiccate in the scorched atmosphere. Soon, soon he would descend to the surface with his handpicked Veletaris troops. The best of the 61st Auxilia regiment of the Ultramar Segmentum. He ran a gloved hand through his greying beard, recalling the orders that sent him here…
“Lord Marshal” the imperial messenger exclaimed as he rushed into Maas’ chambers
“Word, my lord, of the highest order” the courier looked almost frightened as he handed over the data slate.
Maas had to look twice, it bore the Primarch’s own seal. “Terra…” he breathed. The Primarch doesn’t usually bother with direct communications to the general army? What the data slate revealed explained the urgency of the missive and filled Maas with dread…
“So, it is true. Warmaster Horus has fallen. Astartes battles Astartes, brother against brother… I heard rumours, but such a thing… Emperor be praised… should not be possible”
Mass sadly shook his head as he raised from his reverie, and turned to look at his two personal transports. Truly honoured to have not one, but two machines of war such as these to call his own. Side by side brass on deep blue, his Baneblade, Interficio, and Shadowsword, Interemptor. Maas turned once more and looked one last time upon the distant Grox…
“Rally The Troops!” he yelled, “Let us descend upon this cursed planet and bring death with us. I see no place as fit as this dead world to lay waste to the traitorous hordes. Let their corruption join with that of this irradiated dust-bowl, leave none to remember them. Let their names be stripped from memory. LET NONE SURVIVE! FOR THE EMPEROR!”
Mass turned and strode towards Interemptor and Interficio, the cheers of his forces echoing through the support hanger as he climbed aboard one of the behemoths.
Maas had never felt a rage like this, he would not let his Primarch down. Lord Gulliman had personally selected the 61st for this mission, “I will not fail him, the traitors WILL fall”
He felt the pull of the transports as they left the hanger carrying him and his forces to Grox. Maas steeled his resolve further as they descended… Vox chatter alerting him that the Ultramarines were already on the ground… “to war lads” he whispered, “in the name of the Emperor, let us to war…”
Forge Lord Ilingor bowed low, as the Night Haunter swung out of the briefing room. While he hadn't directly tackled the fact his primarch wanted to squander the "Twilight Knives" in a surface war when they'd been a specialised zero-gee unit for decades, at least he'd convinced his lord of the need to stop off at a prison asteroid en route to replenish their war slaves contingent. Still, there was a limit to how much you could get away with when dealing with the VIIIth's sire. You had to watch your step very carefully. Illingor silently cursed Sevatar, and his easy manner with the primarch. Still, even Sevatar wore the sinner's gauntlets now. Sighing, the forge lord began the work of preparing for orbital insertion, coordinating the logistics personally. At his command, the long-dormant 36th company's limited supply of surface combat equipment was brought online. Ilingor snarled as he swept through the lists of available materiel, as the legions slaves took stock and submitted estimates of equipment availability. They would definitely have to make do, and hopefully scavenge some equipment along the way.
Incense filled the room, as Avinos, Chapter Master of the Dark Angels 13th Chapter, stood on a gantry watching the Tech Priest go about their duty. The God Machines of Legio Savagius filled the underground bunker, undergoing the much needed repairs after the last battle against the traitors. In front of the massive blast doors that protected the entrance to the massive underground complex, stood the two mighty Warhound Titans that had been pledged to the 13th Chapter, Balan and his brother God Machine Balin.
These two Gods had been invaluable to his chapter since the traitor warmaster had turned his back on his father the Emperor of mankind. The Princepts and crew of these walking Gods of War were as firey in temperament as the machines they piloted, masters of the art of ambush. Their sustained assault with Plasma Blast Guns stripped their enemies void shields, then even the admantium and plascrete armour of the enemy titans was no match for their Turbo Lasers. Under the shadows of these two mighty God Machines, the men he had chosen for this battle looked small and insignificant, but he knew he could rely on every single Legionary under his command. They had proved themselves again and again on uncounted worlds, every enemy they faced had been utterly destroyed. Today would be no different. Grox would act as a bulwark against the sea of traitors, and he would personally make sure that the only traitors left in the system after this day would be cold broken corpses. The tide was turning, and Avinos knew in his bones that the Imperium would be victorious this day. Grox would stand firm, the 13th Chapter was prepared and their God Machine allies would walk leaving only destruction in their wake.
Engines howled as the stormbird lurched to the port side in an effort to evade some incoming fire or missile lock, Fungor couldn’t even guess as to which. The decent from orbit hadn’t been as rough as some combat drops he had experienced but it sure wasn’t a smooth one. The first captain wasn’t one for subtlety.
“The first company shall achieve what our brother legions have not!” he had declared to the primarch after the reports of widespread failure by the first wave of the warmasters forces to break the loyalists throughout the Trugoy system appeared. The legion was delayed in transit, partially due to the suggestions of course by the 1st captain. They had not been present when the first assault on the system had taken place and the utter failure of the forces to shift the loyalist defenders was a serious problem. Being late for a fight such as this had rankled the primarchs pride and he demanded the 1st captain lead a direct assault onto Grox as redemption.
The landing zone was identified on the outskirts of a primary defence structure of the Imperial Fists. Key equipment and warmachines were the listed objective. “We will succeed where our less capable brothers have failed lord” the 1st captain had told the primarch.
Fungor’s thoughts snapped back into sharp focus as a burst of munitions fire punctured the stormbirds hull. He heard the guttural growl of the first Captain over the vox.
“Enough! We will walk the rest! I want this bird landed NOW!”
“Grox shall know death and we shall be his harbingers!”
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