Chapter 13: Chapter 13

On the order of their primarchs once power was restored, the combined Legion vanguard reluctantly stood down as the Nexus war-automata swarmed through their ships’ docking bays or the gaping wounds in their hulls. The many eyed, many tentacled monsters swam through the corridors with frightening ease and headed straight to the weapon and fighter bays, bridge and other critical areas. They ignored mortal human and posthuman Astartes alike, not so much as a tentacle nudging against the ships’ crew.

 

With the relief that the surrender did not damn everyone to extinction, Magnus watched with impotent anger as the mechanical monsters swept through the bridge of the Photep. As much as he wanted to lash out, it would be a futile- no, suicidal act of resistance that might damn the rest of his legion, and probably his brothers’. The enemy had them by the throat, and if even Russ could keep his fangs hidden, then the Crimson King could manage as well.

 

At least these machines had not sacked and disassembled the ship as the primarch had expected. Instead, they seemed content to float above crew stations and other modules, likely to scan them remotely. The dozens of unblinking red eyes on their bulbous head paid no heed to the bridge crew or the primarch, though the Nexus’ monsters kept a respectable amount of space from their hostages.

 

Magnus wondered not for the first time how his brothers would be feeling right now. Horus especially, after his first defeat under the Nexus Unity, would likely be enduring tenfold the indignity Magnus or any or his brothers felt. Would they strip the Legions bare, like what had happened to the Luna Wolves on the mirror-Mars?

 

The foreign voice that haunted Magnus’ ship suddenly spoke out. “Non-compliance detected, resolving...”

 

A sudden bloom of light from the viewports drew the primarch’s attention. Out in the stars, but close enough to make out the silhouette, a frigate detonated, one belonging to the Vlka Fenryka. A sudden blink in the tactical holo projection showed a heavy cruiser going critical and then disappearing as well. That one was an Imperial Fist vessel. Another small star erupted, this time a cruiser of the Luna Wolves.

 

Magnus’ lone eye squinted into a dark frown. He silently sent out a psychic warning to the ships of his legion to ensure that his Thousand Sons did not partake in useless acts of defiance. Not now, when there was no advantage at all to be gained.

 

The primarch then reached out to his brothers. He tasted the bitter, caged anger from most of them, save for the pangs of regret and sorrow from Angron. Once more it struck Magnus just how much the World Eater had changed. 

 

“How is the enemy…behaving?”

 

“They have the courtesy of not harming anything or damaging anyone,” came Sanguinius’ strained diplomatic reply, “...yet.”

 

Russ managed to send a telepathic snort. “I rather they have the courtesy of having a clear weakness we can exploit.”

 

That the overly superstitious primarch agreed to the telepathic communion at all was credit enough to the Wolf King that Magnus bit back a dry rejoinder. 

 

“As much as it goes against our instincts, we have little choice in this matter,” Horus remarked. “The Nexus has already…shown that it can render us helpless. We should take heart that they choose not to do so, if only that it might give us a chance in the near future.”

 

Dorn’s telepathic voice rumbled with heavy reluctance. “I’ve sent out a fleet-wide order to ensure my men stand down. Horus is right, though we remain prisoners, an opportunity might arise that we-”

 

“We have abused the Nexus’ hospitality already,” Angron interrupted. “And they have shown themselves to be more than generous in their mercy as victors.” Awkward discomfort seeped through the telepathic communion as the Red Angel so readily accepted being a prisoner. “There is also a chance that any opportunity we seize would be one that comes at a heavier cost. If not to us, then to others. Like our legions, or whatever’s left of the Imperial fleet.”

 

“I almost miss your older self,” Russ grumbled.

 

As the primarchs continued their mental communion, Magnus kept his eye on the last stage of the void battle. The holo projection and his own potent psychic awareness painted a scene of the remaining Imperial fleet forming a battlesphere around the Bucephelus. Capital ships formed the shell of the formation, maintaining a suppressive barrage of ordnance, as the smaller escort ships darted around to fire off more accurate salvos. 

 

The Nexus fleet kept their distance from the formation, spread out far too thinly around the Imperial battlesphere. Any illusion that the battlesphere successfully kept the outnumbered Nexus ships at bay was dispelled though whenever the lances and shells struck harmlessly against their shields, causing eruptions of bright, strobing waste light. Even the more esoteric weapons launched by the Legio Custodes ships - graviton warheads and disintegration arrays but a few of them - failed to so much as nudge the ships out of place.

 

Only a few warheads were shot down, as if to prove that the Nexus had the capability of point defense if they chose to.

 

“What are they waiting for?” Sanguinius voiced for every primarch.

 

It took several minutes before the Nexus finally answered. The nine Gloriana-sized warships blinked out of existence and rematerialized at points within the Imperial formation. As impressive as that feat of precision was, Magnus felt only sorrow and helpless frustration as the Nexus ships emitted the hatefully familiar pulses of multi-dimensional colors that saw the entire battlesphere go dark as their engines sputtered to nothing and reactors no doubt convulsed unstably.

 

Unlike what had happened to the Legion ships, there was no mercy shown to the Imperial ships drifting helplessly. The Nexus capital ships lashed out with their weapons, obliterating ship after ship with overwhelming firepower. Destroyers and frigates vanished, the thousands of souls onboard having no time to realize their demise as the beams of light and bolts of plasma tore shredded through the hulls. Cruisers and battleships broke apart in rough chunks after the volleys pierced through them.

 

The massacre was not indiscriminate as Magnus had first expected though. He noticed certain ships only having their engines cored out, as his own fleet had been. The Bucephelus had been one of the first to be crippled.  As the primarch channeled more of his talents to peer through the survivors, the pattern had become obvious.

 

Other than the Bucephelus, the spared vessels either transported the Sisters of Silence or the Legio Custodes.

 

Magnus’ lone eye blinked slowly, almost dumbly. Is he mad? Is Sev really trying to make prisoners out of them?

 

The nine ships killed their way towards the Emperor’s flagship to form a battlesphere of their own around it. By then, there was little left for them to shoot in the small nebula made of crippled and shattered ships.

 

The psychic might of the Emperor of Mankind flared out several minutes later, almost blinding Magnus’ Empyrean senses. The radiance lasted for several minutes before cutting off abruptly, and immediately a hollow, sinking feeling descended upon the primarch.

 

*****

 

They began as 1st Platoon, made up of the first child slaves Sev had liberated. As the Nexus expanded, they grew to become 1st Company, and after the conquest of continental North America, they simply became known as the First. The wasteland states and raider kingdoms named them the Flail of Sev, the Wrath of the Nexus, the Exorcists, the Marked of Sev, and other such fanciful names. Among themselves and the people of Caladan, they were known as Sev’s Owned.

 

The veterans among them had been with Sev practically from the very start, before he created the realm that would be the Nexus Unity, before he introduced the wasteland to true peace through power. They had crushed raider legions, lunatic cultists, eldritch horrors, and more besides. Seven years of doing their part for the Nexus, their record remained unstained and not a single trooper has dared die in service to Sev’s peace.

 

It was a record that Edward, the leader of the First, hoped to maintain as they assembled by the teleportation chamber and readied themselves for a decisive counter attack. Sev had granted them some measure of divinity, but they were still mortal in many aspects, and experience had taught them that you didn’t need too much to kill demi-gods.

 

It was fortunate that the enemy was deemed manageable enough for the human elements of the Nexus Unity’s military to take part. Edward almost thought he’d have to sit out the Nexus’ first major space war.

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Sev himself led them this time, while Piper, Cait, Curie and Nat would join as part of the First. Even after all this time, the young commander still felt some pride in the trust they placed in his leadership and tactical abilities that they would put themselves under his command. The four of them were more potent demi-gods than him, but still happily kept to old habits.

 

The comms channel was silent as the anticipation grew thicker in the air. Some of the newer troopers shifted nervously, others had their heads bowed in a silent prayer to the god that stood before them. The Galacticas should be finishing filtering out the enemy fleet, and the teleport coordinates should be ready any time now.

 

Edward recalled the simple briefing that occurred earlier when the First had been assembled. “Remember, this is a show of force,” Sev had said. “Don’t expect to be able to beat the enemy one-on-one, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be flashy about taking them apart.”

 

The scans from the Galacticas had given them an idea of what to expect, and the targets were made clear: Anything from the gold giants called Custodians down were open season for the First. The Type-H abomination and his psychic advisor were for Sev to handle only. The rudimentary alterations from Vault Gesserit would have updated the wards on the Sardaukar suits, but without enough testing, it’d be best to to pit their defenses against more potent threats just yet.

 

So they’d have to settle for oversized genetic monsters and negative Type-H emitters. It felt like they were about to fight the acolytes of the squid god again back in the Pacific, while Sev-

 

The sharp crack in the chamber snapped Edward out of his reminiscing, and everyone straightened to alertness. Tupile had locked onto a frequency, and the connection was fully established. It would take a few seconds more for the line to be strengthened by metanatural and quantum reinforcements, ensuring that the transition would not suffer data corruption or latency overlaps. Constant updates were also required to ensure that the defined spaces were safe for matter transmission.

 

Sev’s voice rang out throughout the electric whine of the teleportation coils. “This is it, let’s hope they’re willing to play nice.”

 

“For their sakes,” Cait added with good cheer.

 

Runes and coils glowed brightly, and with a massive thunderclap of displaced air, the first wave of troopers and their god barely had time to blink to find themselves in a cluttered space, the bridge of the enemy flagship. The rune in Edward’s helmet immediately glowed hotly being so close to the Emperor of the Imperium, but thankfully his neck didn’t itch as badly as before, which meant that the wards were doing their job.

 

“Hello there,” Sev greeted with mocking casualness.

 

The gaudy Custodians pointed poleblades and swords at the boarding party, just as the First had their machine pistols and blades pointed at them in turn.

 

“Do I bother offering you a chance to surrender, or-” The sudden burst of eldritch radiance cut Sev off, and surprised sounds filled the tactical channel. Even with the autofilters, Edward had to squint his eyes as the physical and metaphysical light almost blinded him.

 

Then a crackle of lightning shot blasted a few troopers off their feet, the guns on the golden giant’s blades roared, and the fighting began. Edward got knocked off his feet by the sheer force of the localized firestorm of explosive rounds, but his shield held as expected. It was all the enemy was going to get from him, the commander promised himself.

 

The Nexus elite recovered from the surprise attack and retaliated with fanatic ferocity as Sev’s silhouette rushed at the blinding source of metanatural light. Tiberium shards keened through the air, piercing into their gilded targets but not felling them outright, as Tiberium crystal blades danced against the Imperium’s forged metals. 

 

Edward slipped around one Custodian, barely avoiding the swing of the poleblade and the follow up of the pole’s butt. He slashed across the back of giant’s armored knee, feeling the enforced crystal tearing through golden alloys and biting into oversized bone. A rapid follow up saw his blade sever the joint before he quickly slid away to just barely avoid his target’s retaliating sweep. A volley of T-shards from Tim shredded the Custodian’s head, finally dropping him.

 

These golden brutes were dangerous. They were clearly faster and tougher than the First to be able to fight on after being pincushioned by crystal shards. Edward’s shields kept a flurry of spear thrusts from making contact with his armor, but the force of the attack staggered him and actually did a noticeable dent to his shield’s durability. Their combat abilities were also superior. Only the Nexus’ superior magi-technology and the enhancements of Sev’s divinity gave the First the advantage in the fight.

 

If he weren’t careful, if any of his friends weren’t careful, they could be pinned down and then potentially taken out of the fight.

 

“For the Emperor!” some of the more human bridge crew screamed out as they added what little value they had to the fight with conventional guns and clubs.

 

Edward couldn’t help himself. “Peace through power!” he roared in reply, and his friends roared with him.

 

The oversized bridge quickly became victim to a chaotic melee. Edward pounced on a Custodian who was expertly beating back Sylvie and Colin, jamming his blade in the back of the neck to saw away at the vertebrae. Sylvie and Colin in turn lunged at the two other brutes that were approaching, allowing him to execute his target before joining them. 

 

Sarah Lyons shoved her blade through the faceplate of another Custodian, and then had to awkwardly fend off other enemies with the dead giant’s arms tightly wrapped around her. The Wright sisters came to her rescue, literally tearing apart the Custodians with their bare hands. 

 

Sev’s demi-god consorts darted around to end fights to the First’s favor, being far less affected by the weapons and skill of the enemy. Cait ended a deadly dance with two Custodians by breaking their weapons and then jamming the bladed ends into their necks. Curie sliced through arm and leg joints with surgical precision.

 

There was no sign of the encounter between Sev and his targets though. A gaping hole in the floor, lit up with lightning and false-divine light, suggested that he had forced that fight elsewhere, to minimize the collateral amongst the First. Rather than pointlessly wasting time worrying about Sev, Edward returned his focus to evading another series of rapid strikes without getting caught by the finishing strike that would surely land at the end of this.

 

More Custodians were streaming in through the bridge’s entrances along with gold-armored women that were supposed to be called the Sisters of Silence, but the Nexus’ teleport beacons were also set up and online, allowing for the rest of the First to join the fray as well. The enemy were dying, but the First were barely holding their own against superior numbers and skills.

 

Messy as the fighting was, at least it kept the bridge structurally intact. If they’d brought plasma or laser weapons in, the battlecruisers might as well let off a volley or two to wipe out the bridge to achieve the same result without wasting time.

 

The battle on the bridge stretched to long minutes before a burst of metaphysical energy exploded out the hole in the floor, causing the bridge to tremble and the growing pile of corpses to shift around. Both Imperium and Nexus forces paused the fighting, the break allowing Edward  to witness the robed figure of the robed advisor flying out of the hole and landing with a soft thud onto some golden corpses. Malcador was still breathing,

 

An oppressive air that Edward didn’t know existed lifted as the rune on his HUD dimmed and the itch from his armor’s wards lessened up.

 

The commander glanced around, sharing knowing grins with his colleagues with what all that meant. The Custodians must have felt it as well, because they suddenly ignored the troopers of the First and began walking towards the edge of the hole. Edward did the same out of curiosity, and his grin grew larger as he peeked over the ledge.

 

Sev stood battered but otherwise whole on the ruins of a hallway that was littered with dead Custodians and other Imperium forces. The Emperor was slumped against a dented wall, the psychic glow looking sickly as the lone crystal spike sticking out of his chest tainted the light with its own green glow.

 

The god-ruler of the Nexus Unity walked over to the Emperor of Mankind and asked aloud, “Yield?” Edward heard the tinge of exertion in his voice. Silence followed in the ensuing seconds, though Edward thought he felt shameful resignation from the golden metanatural avatar as he gave a slow nod.

 

Sev laconically looked up. “Fight’s over. Process them.”

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