Chapter Eighteen: The Battle of Ceres

Location: The Palace of Malg-Dantu on Ceres

Date: 812.M30

Malg-Roth lounged within the depths of its Spore-Kins dwelling. The great void-coral palace was one of the 79 that dotted the harsh frozen surface of C'er. One for each of the 79 Clans of Q'Hrel who ruled the Belt of Sol. It was a perfect domain for Malg-Roths kin, barren and distant from the systems star, minerals rich and filled with tunnels and caverns perfect for slaves and spawns.

The Q'Hrel were an ancient species, with a history spanning million years. In that time Empires and species had risen and fallen. All throughout the Q'Hrel had waxed and waned. Surviving and existing in the dark fetid parts of the galaxy like the Molds they were distantly related to. During galactic Dark Ages, they prospered and fed upon the remnants of broken civilizations. Now was one of those times of plenty. The Meatlings of Terra had been broken by their Automata and the Endless Empire of the Crystal-Children had been dragged screaming into the Nether.

As the fires of those twin apocalyptic conflicts cooled the Q'Hrel had slithered into the former Crown-Worlds of the Terran Meatlings. The meatlings bred quickly and even the greatest cataclysm in their history had done little to quell their numbers. Lacking the legions of Iron that had once defended them they were easy prey for Malg-Roth's kin. For as long as the Story-Murals recorded the Q'Hrel had been the masters of breaking lesser species to their will. The enslavement and exploitation of other sentients had long ago been perfected by Malg-Roth's ancestors and the continuation of such a practice was quite useful.

Terran Meatlings, in particular, proved to be the virtually perfect slave-species. It amused the Q'Hrel that the species that had once claimed dominion over the stars proved such excellent fodder for their industries, agriculture, and subservience. Terrans bred quickly, even in the most odious conditions. They could survive and thrive on the most basic scraps, they could even be manipulated to turn on each other for better pickings of refuse to squash rebellion.

Unlike the Orks or other fast-breeding races, they could be easily broken into obedient slaves. Terran tissue was also quite nutritious and their warp-signature seemed to attract the attention of the Four from the Beyond. Making sacrifices of their Nether-touched an excellent source of boons.

They truly were the ideal Slave-species. Malg-Roth itself was waited on by one hundred fanatically loyal meatlings who all competed for the honor of having their cerebral-spinal fluid drank by their Master. The Spore-Clan of Malg owned 89,602,819 Terran slaves with a few hundred thousand more used for sustenance or materials.

Form its Xeno perspective Malg-Roth knew without a doubt Terrans were inferior livestock and that the enslavement and consumption of them would continue until every last one of them had been used up. Malg-Roth knew this because they would not be the first species to experience such a fate under the Q'Hrel's use. What Malg-Roth did not know was that the millennia of human enslavement and consumption was about to violently end. Or that it was about to pay for its crimes with its life as a barrage of fire reduced its palace to ash.

By their very Nature Voidship Lance weaponry strike first in a battle. This proved true as the first broadsides of hyper-focused energy burned through Ceres's defense field and unleashed hell upon the world below. Battle-tank sized bolts of light turned millennia worth of carefully grown Void-Coral into a plasmatic slurry of its component atoms.

The Palace of Malg-Dantu had proved an optimum first target of the First Legion. The isolated equatorial plateau would provide baseline information on the effectiveness of the fleets weapons. Scans also indicated the vast bulk of lifeforms matching human biological characteristics were located beneath the proto-planets surface. The strike would decapitate enemy leadership without causing unnecessary harm to the enslaved humans.

Lance fire lacerated the kilometer high structure. Leaving angular cuts that turned the thick layer of frost lacquered onto it into great clouds of vapor. Entire sections of the macro-structure were peeled away from the main spire and teetered precariously. As the vivisected structure started to settle from the devastation inflicted by Imperial energy weapons, the fleets Macro-cannon shells slammed into it.

Megatons of explosive force shattered the palace into frozen shards that flitted through the void, effected partially by the rapidly decaying artificial gravity of the palace. Forming a hauntingly beautiful spectacle of crystal-snow floating between earthquake inducing impacts. In less than ten minutes the once prideful center of Xeno-tyranny and all its occupants had been utterly destroyed by the First Legion.

Location: The Ty-Prydwen

Date: 812.M30

The first assault was a resounding success, the Xeno-fortress was reduced to ash without issue and the next phase of the battle had begun. Like the nest of vermin it was the protoplanet had been stirred into a frenzy. Defensive shields shimmered into being over the remaining spires. These were not the faint containment fields meant to simulate an atmosphere and protect from cosmic debris but barriers of eldritch energy and distorted space-time.

At Eddards command the fleet opened fire on the other targetable fortress. Three folded under the bombardment, their barriers not solidified enough to withstand the Imperiums wrath. The other twenty were luckier and the shields shimmered with sickly light as they halted the bombardment. Even so, armageddon rained down upon the barriers, straining them and preventing any orbital defenses from being fired.

This did not prevent swarms of Xeno fighter craft from pouring out of their hives. The Fields reacted to momentum and would not block low-velocity objects from entering or exiting it. Confirming what he had expected the First Primarch gave the much-anticipated order to his Legion. "Ready drop-pods for Deepstrike insertion."

Thousands of Legionnaires entered their Drop Pods and prepared to be launched like living ordinance down onto Ceres. A hundred or so Battle-Brothers of the Eighth Formation boarded their strike-craft and took formation as squad-leaders of Auxilia piloted fighter-squadrons. They would defend the fleet and their battle brothers from the oncoming Xeno Horde.

Bolts of energy and mass-reactive shells spilled into the Void as the fleet's defenses came to life. Tens of thousands of Xeno fighters had already poured into the Void and were beginning to open fire with energy weapons. Even in massive volleys, the scorching Xeno-weapons could not threaten Imperial Void-Shields. Still, they fired, all while coalescing towards the Ty-Prydwen. Similar to the Astartes drop pods that thundered past them, the Xeno's sought to decapitate the enemy.

Not a single one got close enough to even touch the Gloriana-Class's Void-Shield. Deadly storms of flak fire and masterful pilots of the Eighth Formation ripped them out of the Void. It was now when the nature of the Xeno fighters were revealed by Imperial Strike-Craft observation. The Xeno Fighter-Craft were not Craft at all but individual specimen of the enemy.

At about eight foot long and sprouting many foul protrusions the horrific bilaterally symmetrical beings flew through the void on some unknown ether with fan-like wings. In its tendrils, they held queer directed energy weapons that lashed out with vivid bolts that tore through the Armor of any Strike-Craft unlucky enough to be hit.

Location: Ceres, Xeno Spire-5

Date: 812.M30

As the orbital battle between strike-craft and Xeno intensified the First drop-pods slammed into Ceres's surface. Control rockets had directed and slowed the pods to safely pass through the Xeno Palaces force-field. Hundreds of Drop-Pods smashed into and around each Spire. With practiced efficiency, the Astartes exited their transports and secured the perimeter around their craft.

The vast majority of the Drop-Pods had landed within a hundred meters of the base of the spire, a few struck directly into it though. Those Battle-Brothers had the somewhat more arduous duty of setting up internal kill-zones to occupy and distract defenders while the main force moved in. Once the landing forces had decided it was reasonably safe a signal was transmitted back to the fleet. Specialized Astartes from the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 7th Formations were then deployed with their wargear and vehicles.

Twenty independent armies of Astartes, each numbering in the thousands formed up. Columns of the newly manufactured Gen-I Rhino transports and Predator Tanks deployed. Squads formed up into Companies and Companies into Chapters. 3rd Formation scout craft quickly moved to scan the Xeno structure and access enemy forces and access points.

Orbital scans indicated each Spire was an entry point into a sprawling catacomb system of both human and Xeno origin. Taking these twenty spires would provide access to the proto-planets core. The 3rd formations initial reports indicated the Spires themselves were sparsely populated. More akin to a mix of pleasure-palace and fortress than a proper city.

As of now, the majority of their defenders were engaging in the orbital battle but more would soon be spilling out of the planet's crust once the Astartes assault was noticed. This was the key point of the battle for Ceres. The First Legion had to take the spires quickly and butcher the Xeno's before they could mount a defense.

The location marked by Imperial tacticians as Spire-5 was the first to be breached by the Legion. It was one of the larger Xeno-Structures and its entrance was a broad avenue leading to a semi-organic looking aperture. The other spires tended to have high up tubular access points with a few larger ones that seemed to be loading dock equivalents. The design was perfect for armored vehicles and a unit of 4th Formation Tanks and Transports carrying 5th formation Astartes charged the gate.

Once they were within a few hundred meters the reason for the atypical entrance point became apparent. The hab-block sized aperture opened up and two dozen hulking beasts rampaged out of it. Oily tentacled creatures each rivaling a Rhino in size. Festooned with brutal armor and blades attached to their extremities the monster was ready for battle.

On each specimen back was its Xeno-handler. The Q'hrel grasping tendrils each held some sort of energy weapon and they were protected by an armored howdah. Fully utilizing the mobility advantage provided by their quadruped ape-like stance the creatures charged the Astartes Armored division.

With practiced certainty, the Rhino transports moved themselves and their cargo out of the creatures reach and behind their predator siblings all while firing into the pack of monsters with their storm bolters. Taking up frontline positions the Predators blasted away at the war-beasts. Even under a hail of bolt shells and Autocannon blasts, the creatures did not falter. Their armor rippled with oily light that muted the destructive power being unleashed against them. Even so, the great volume of mass-reactive shells filling the air managed to rip through the Xeno-armor and explode inside the war-beasts.

Instead of bleeding or breaking like a fully natural creature the war-beasts flesh oozed over the injury like a grotesque fluid. One of the more massive specimens reared up and brought its armored forelimbs down on a Predators turret. Its riders weapons unleashed etheric tendrils of electricity that crackled and lashed out at the Tanks armor.

Barely dodging the crackling power-claws bonded to the war-beasts flesh as it sunk through the turret's armor the Tanks lead gunner aimed its Auto-cannon into the beast's chest. With an explosive crack, the round blasted through the creatures chest cavity and detonated as it reached the beasts spine equivalent and back-armor. A mixture of organic and metal shrapnel spewed out of its back and reduced the war-beasts rider to a fine paste.

Instantly the War-Beast pulled away as if the Predators hull scalded it. Backing away with twitchy movements the Creature slumped forward, its head pressed against the frozen rock of Ceres. It took a moment for the Tanks crew to decipher the Alien-body language of what they had assumed was a brutish gene-crafted animal. It was bowing, a near-universal mark of supplication and respect.

A moment later the grey clammy flesh of the Xeno-beast started to slaught off of it. Wounds from both this battle and previous ones ripped open. Scars faded into being and became gaping injuries as the Xeno died before their eyes. The patterns even upon such an alien form were unmistakable. Brands and lash marks that always accompanied slavery. This was no animal but a sentient being forced into violence and servitude that was so severe even death could not be an escape. Some foul warp-craft of Xeno-heresy forced the Xeno-slave to keep living and was dispelled with its master's death.

Showing the initiative and understanding that had earned him his command Tank-Sergeant Hawkwood quickly voxed the other tank commanders. "Aim for the Xeno-riders, they are the source of the Beasts resilience. They are just as much Slaves as the mortals toiling below. Euthanize them efficiently."

Reacting with startling speed the Ten tanks of Hawkwoods division gained firing lines on the Q'Hrel riders and pulverized them with concentrated fire. The Armor and shields of their diases did little to stifle the vengeance of mankind. Soon all that was left of the twelve slave-Xeno's were malformed skeletons quickly covering with void-frost. A marker beacon for the Xenos Biologis was deployed on them and the Tanks advanced upon the Gate.

Bolts of energy from turrets hidden in the void-coral flew down upon them, a quick hail of bolter fire quickly silenced them and the gaping entrance to the Spire awaited. It appeared the Xeno's had attempted to shut the bastion once they realized the battle had turned against them. A few stray bolt shells had turned the fleshy aperture into a wound in the spires side.

Assembling quickly the Astartes prepared to march into the Spire. A Cohort of Astartes numbering in at Five thousand Battle Brothers along with Armored transports, Tanks, Flyers, Attack Bikes, Mech Suits, Specialty Forces and support Astartes prepared to enter the Spire. Doom and destruction was coming the Xeno's and liberation in life or peace in death was coming to their victims. They were the Emperors Angels of Death, and they would know no fear.

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