Ghost Polterax Campaign

"Uh, you say you need my help?"

I stared at the flickering holo-pict of Ahzek Ahriman, puzzled at his request. Apparently, he had pulled together a full fellowship to launch an assault on some planet I had never heard of before, desiring to locate a cache of technological treasure that dated back before the coming of the Imperium.

"Yes, Ignatius. The Blood Angels, Imperial Fists and White Scars have arrived in force, along with a detachment of Raven Guard, and they intend to deny us the STCs and weapons on the planet." Ahzek turned grim. "They plan to destroy whatever archeotech they find there. We cannot allow that to happen, brother."

"And for this reason, you decide to join Horus Lupercal and his Traitors?" I snapped, my voice dripping with venom. Ahzek sighed and shook his head.

"The Imperium was the one who betrayed us first."

"Funny. I thought the Warmaster was the one who sent Russ's wolves after us. How did we end up working for him instead?"

"You'll see," Ahzek replied somberly. "Even if we maintain our loyalty, the legions fighting for the Emperor's cause do not see it that way. Our erstwhile brothers turn their guns on us despite our claims of loyalty, refusing to believe us because...they deem us warlocks. Our only chance of survival is to side with the Warmaster, whether you believe me or not."

I chewed on my lip as I considered, and then I finally nodded. "Fine. I'll deploy my forces to assist you in recovering the archeotech, but I'll minimize engagement with the Loyalists as much as possible. I have no intention on firing upon those who stay true to their oaths."

At least that was the plan, but...

"We're coming under heavy fire!"

Sergeant Tukhan cursed as he ducked his helm under heavy fire. I sighed and glanced from behind the ruin that we were seeking cover in. One of the bolts hammered against my Cataphractii Terminator armor, detonating harmlessly against the venerable suit. Even so, I staggered back behind the wrecked wall.

Beyond, a wall of yellow stretched. A phalanx of Imperial Fists Terminators were advancing toward our position, laying down a volley of bolter fire, their aim precise and unwavering. Behind them, their Dreadnoughts stomped forward. Two Contemptor Dreadnoughts and a single Leviathan. A plasma blast from one of the former smashed through a building and vaporized half of Tukhan's squad, their armor unable to withstand the fury of a sun.

"Peace, brothers!" I shouted through the vox, only to be ignored. Swearing, I closed my eyes and focused on transmitting a telepathic message. This was something more suited for the Athanaeans, but my fellowship mostly comprised of Pavoni and Pyrae initiates. That was unfortunate. Even so, I had to try. Ever since my legion had relocated to some unknown planet in a storm-wracked space, we had found our psychic powers developing to new heights.

Even so, I had to be cautious.

Please, brothers. We mean no harm. We are loyal to the Emperor.

"Warlocks!" A hiss through the vox, at last, but not the words I wanted to hear. To my dismay, I heard hostility in the Marshal's voice, the Imperial Fist Praetor leading his Terminator squads toward our position. "You dare defy the Edict of Nikea?"

Yup...this conversation wasn't going the way I hoped it would.

"We're getting massacred out here!" Tukhan yelled at me, half his helm melted from the plasma blast that had wiped out half of his squad. "Captain, we have to fall back now!"

One of the Castellax-Achea battle-automata exploded, its frame shuddering as a few Terminators punched it with their Solarite Gauntlets and power fists. Yeah, not looking good here. I was bleeding automata and men while trying to persuade the Imperial Fists that I was on their side.

"Fall back," I ordered bitterly, recalling Ahzek's words. Even if we declared ourselves Loyalists, the others might not see it the same way. The Contemptor Dreadnought's plasma weapon fired again, and more of the rune-signs representing my brothers winked out. The Leviathan Dreadnought's meltaguns fired, melting a hole through the bunker that Uliman's squad was seeking refuge in. I closed my eyes as I heard the drills go to work.

Dispatching the last of the Castellax-Achea to hold the approaching Terminators at bay to buy us some more time to retreat, I used my powers to hopefully cloud the Imperial Fists' senses to hinder their pursuit.

"This is what you called us for?" I asked Ahzek bitterly over the vox while my army recuperated. The Legion Previan, Mathoris, had gathered several Techmarines to salvage and repair the damaged Castellax-Achea. Fortunately, the Imperial Fists hadn't done too much damage, having been distracted by Ahzek's counterattack. I decided to leave the yellow armored Terminators to my brother. If it was the chief librarian, then surely he knew how to deal with them.

Also, I felt relief at being...uh, well, relieved.

"Um, while we deal with the Imperial Fists, do you mind holding off the Raven Guard for just a moment?"

"You ask the impossible, Ahzek," I remarked, already seeing their Primarch, Corax, with them. Uh, what? Why was a Primarch on Polterax? Did the archeotech here really warrant their presence?

"Just do it."

Ahzek then turned off the vox. I could sense aetheric energy laced into his command, which meant he was serious. Too bad he was Corvidae and not Athanaean, so he couldn't actually force me to submit mentally. That said, he was still my bro, so I reluctantly obeyed. Clapping my hands, I gestured to my fellowship.

"All right, break time's over. Time to fight a Primarch."

"You're joking, right?" Tukhan said. "We can't beat a Primarch."

"We don't have to win. We'll just, uh...delay them."

"And get massacred?"

Tukhan should be Corvidae and not Pyrae. No sooner than when we deployed, Corax and his Dark Furies descended upon on our ranks, slaughtering my brothers. Thousand Sons legionnaires fell, butchered by their special lightning claws that they called dark talons or something. I wasn't sure. Our aetherfire blasters took out the majority of an assault squad, but the survivors fled, only to be replaced by the Dark Furies, led by Corax himself.

"My lord!" I yelled to him, waving my force sword. "Please stop! We're not your enemy!"

"I'm sure you aren't," he responded sarcastically before scything down the poor Cataphractii Terminator next to me. A lumbering Leviathan Dreadnought showed up not long after, his meltaguns lancing into my Terminator retinue and the venerable ancient, Orisis. Orisis was entombed in an Orison-pattern Contemptor Dreadnought, his powerful mind undaunted by his withered body, but even his kine shield was unable to withstand the combined fury of the Leviathan Dreadnought's firepower and the las fired from a heavy support squad hidden in a hablock a few blocks away. Portable lascannons fired with utmost precision. Ugh.

"C'mon!" I begged. "We weren't even at Istvan!"

"Yeah, but you're still Traitors."

Realizing that we were bleeding too much men, I sent my Castellax-Achea automatons to delay him once more, but he cleaved them apart effortlessly. Needless to say, it was another massacre. Whatever survivors my fellowship had were cut down by sniper fire from surrounding hablocks.

And they called us dishonorable. Good Emperor...

Shortly after the one-sided slaughter, I gathered what remained of my forces and did what I could do with my Pavoni arts. Thankfully, the augmented psychic powers from Sortiarius allowed me to heal even the most grievous wounds, and I had most of my dudes back up in full health. Exhausted, I leaned against the bunker my Fellowship had sought refuge in and pondered on the crisis we found ourselves in. I was relieved that I could salvage most of my brothers and heal them to near perfect health, but the situation was untenable.

First, the Imperial Fists. Then the Raven Guard. Why wouldn't anyone listen to me!? We were on their side! Ugh. This was turning out to be like when the Dark Angels attacked us on Zhao-Arkhad. At that time, we drove them off with overwhelming numbers of Castellax-Achea automata and Titans. We lacked the Titans now, but at least we still had a decent number of Castellax-Achea automata.

Even so, I was still reluctant to fight against those loyal to the Emperor. I refused to throw my lot in with the Traitors. Or so I thought, but Ahzek contacted me a few days after the double disasters.

+Screw you, Ahzek,+ I sent mentally, too tired to deal with whatever nonsense he had up his sleeve. He ignored me.

+We need you again, Ignatius.+

+To do what? Die again? We just got our arses kicked by the Imperial Fists, and then the Raven Guard. Led by none other than Corax himself! And now I hear Sanguinus has taken to the field too?!+

+I'll take care of Lord Sanguinus.+

+Huh? How?+

+You don't need to know. I have one final mission for you. There's a...doomsday device located right next to your position. The White Scars are bearing down on it...but we need you to seize it and then escape before the Loyalists can destroy it.+

+So snatch and run?+

+Essentially.+

I thought about it for a bit before nodding. That I could do. I was sick of this Emperor damned planet, anyway. Doing this one last thing for Ahzek before we left wasn't too big an ask. At least the Khagan wasn't with the White Scars, or we would get our asses kicked again like when we tried to hold back the Raven Guard.

Furthermore, it meant we didn't have to fight a holding reaction. We just needed to grab the thing and leave. Easy enough, right?

...against the White Scars, the masters of speed and hit and run, that was actually quite the tough ask.

"Oh, man...the Sky Hunters are coming...that's a lot of Scimitar jetbikes." Takhan groaned as he stared into the horizon. I shook my head and mentally ordered the Castellax-Achea automata forward. A couple of blasts from their aetherfire cannons erased a couple of them, but the rest came hurtling onward.

"I'll take care of them," Mathoris assured me before he led his retinue of Castellax-Achea forward. I had no choice but to trust him, and instead had my Terminator squad follow me to eliminate an outrider squadron that was speeding toward us. We opened up with our volkite chargers, the ruby beams setting the poor bikers ablaze. Bauzon, who was armed with an aetherfire blaster instead of a volkite charger like the rest, vaporized a biker that was about to impale him with his power glaive.

On the opposite side, Tukhan and his squad shot down a squadron of bikers with their asphyx bolters.

"Huh, they aren't as tough as I thought they would be," he remarked, surprised.

"I know, right?" I was also taken aback by how easily we shot them down. It was almost as if they had gone down in toughness and lost a wound. Not that it mattered, when our juiced up aetherfire blasters were dealing Instant Death to them, but even so...

"Oh, boy..."

Mathoris was struggling with the Scimitar jetbikers who had crashed into his automata and scythed them down. Meanwhile, Fenric and his support squad had demolished a Rhino with their pumped up aetherfire blasters before they incinerated most of the disembarking tactical squad that was forced to leave their wrecked transport. The surviving sergeant went to ground and fled. Not because he was a coward, but because he was no fool.

The White Scars plasma support tactical squad and a Warmonger dropped in right behind us and heavily damaged poor Orisis, but between him and my Terminator squad, we wiped them out with volkite and aetherfire, and then power swords.

Mathoris, wielding powers of the Empyrean, buffed himself with his Pavoni arts and took revenge for his downed automata, hacking down the last of the jetbikers before they could break off and run. Fenric's aetherfire squad was also advancing toward the White Scars Khan who was charging them and the Castellax-achea automata they were escorting. I saw that they had followed my instructions, one of the psy-automata bearing the doomsday device that Ahzek had ordered me to retrieve.

Fortunately, the hail of aetherfire from Fenric's squad disintegrated the poor Khan before he could lay into them, his body thrown into the air as his bike vanished underneath him. His burning corpse landed on the ground in front of Fenric, who proceeded to pump several more shots into him.

+No need for that,+ I reprimanded him. +We are not barbarians.+

+Sorry, sir.+

"Well, we had better get out of here," I said, switching back to my vox. A White Scars Xiphon Interceptor had just screamed by overhead, its lascannons spitting death. Orisis vanished in a blossoming fireball, but at least he wasn't the one holding the doomsday device. "We got what we came here for. Let's go."

I didn't know it at that time, but later I found out that our little stunt ended up helping the Warmaster's forces tremendously. Whoops. Also, Ahzek succeeded in holding off Sanguinus and his Blood Angels to ensure our victory. Thanks to his direction, we got the doomsday device he wanted, which he apparently put into use during the Solar War. Ugh. I wasn't sure how to feel about that, but...hey, at least we won. Right?