After one year and seven months, the Crusade have finally reach their final objective. The planet where the Warlord is currently hole up at.
It had been a period of relentless warfare. Intelligence gathered by a Deathwatch Kill-team confirmed that the Waaagh! had unified under a single warlord. As previously noted, the Deathwatch—operating under Inquisitor Eisenhorn—had deployed multiple Kill-teams to gather information on the Waaagh! and, if possible, eliminate key Mekboyz and Painboyz at Atharion's request.
Atharion had chosen not to share the information regarding the Warlord's information that he get from the Dark Eldar. He lacked any plausible explanation for how he had come by it, and the reconnaissance teams involved operated under the highest levels of secrecy.
When the information of the Warlord and the Waaagh! have been united under one, overall morale within the Crusade faltered—particularly among the mortal forces. Fortunately, the Crusade had not yet suffered catastrophic losses, so it's still manageable.
Moreover, the string of victories earned during their long campaign helped sustain morale, preventing it from collapsing entirely.
Now, all three Expeditionary Forces had encircled the final target—Extrrse. Once a feudal world plagued only by small bands of feral Orks, it had since become a bastion of the Warlord's power, heavily fortified and swarming with large numbers of Orks.
"This will be the final battle then." Yaroslan Medexus, Captain of the Raven Guard's 2nd company.
"Indeed, this will be the last battle and if we are able to destroy those Orks strangler afterwards, this region may free from the green Xenos for a long time." Captain of the Obsidian Jaguars said as he studying the holo-map of the world.
Inside the chamber, the highest-ranking leaders of the Crusade stood in a circle around the great holodevice at the center. Some were present in the flesh, clad in armor or uniforms that, though cleaned, still bore the scars and scorch marks of recent battles. Others flickered in pale blue as holo-projections, their images wavering and their voices faintly distorted by the vox-link.
The display cast a shifting light over the room, projecting the jagged mountains, fortified bastions, and teeming encampments that now covered Extrrse's surface. The Ork positions were marked in crude red glyphs, clustered thick around the central fortress where the Warlord was believed to reside in.
A low murmur spread through the chamber. Among the Astartes, quiet debates rose over who would claim the honor of slaying the Warlord. In contrast, the mortal officers exchanged grim calculations of how many lives the coming assault would cost.
Atharion remained silent, his expression unreadable. Behind the stillness, his mind worked relentlessly, sifting through every possible stratagem that might reduce the casualties that would inevitably come.
Though officially classified as a feudal world, Extrrse possessed abundant natural resources. Centuries of crude mining had left a network of tunnels and shafts beneath its surface—many of them still untapped. According to the latest reconnaissance reports, much of the ore remained unmined, meaning the Orks had ample reserves to exploit.
While orbital bombardment was already planned, no one placed much faith in it. The greenskins could simply vanish into the tunnels, endure the barrage, and then emerge to rebuild their stockpiles from the rich veins below.
Atharion raised his hand, immediately drawing the chamber into silence.
"The Dark Knights will lead the first strike following the bombardment," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of command. At his gesture, the holomap shifted, highlighting the approach corridors and the first impact zones. "The 1st through 30th Auxilia Regiments will advance with us as the opening wave."
He turned then toward the Taranis brothers and the Knights assembled behind them, their towering forms casting long shadows even through the holo-light.
"The Freeblades will also move with the vanguard." Atharion continued, his tone firm. "You all will replace the holes that the Titans have left behind and serve as the heavy hitter of our force."
Atharion then turned back to the gathered commanders.
"Once a landing zone has been secured, the rest of the Crusade will begin their descent. Mechanized and armored regiments will take priority in deployment. Their vehicles will press outward to fortify the beachhead, while infantry formations follow to consolidate and hold ground."
The holomap shifted once more, highlighting concentric waves of deployment, each marked with Imperial symbols.
"Wait, what about us?" Mina cut in, her tone edged with impatience. Her arms folded tightly as she stared at Atharion. "You're not trying to exclude us from the fighting, are you?"
Currently, only Mina and her newly found Order of the Bloody Rose Sisters are present. Both the Order of Argent Shroud and the newly found Order of the Sacred Rose have been reassigned elsewhere, with only two Canoness Preceptor from the Argent Shroud and twelve Canoness Preceptor from Sacred Rose remain behind operating and garrison the Convents that they constructed.
"Of course not," Atharion replied evenly. "You will deploy alongside Watch Captain Elsei and his Kill-teams, forming the forward scouts for the vanguard."
Atharion can feel that Mina is happy with his assignment, figthing on the front and most importantly, killing Xenos for the God-Emperor.
"Tech-priest Ninex," Atharion now turn towards the Clone that standing at the corner of the chamber. "Have all the vehicles that will participate in the battle have been fully prepare and maintain? I hope none of them will have any problem when fighting on the ground."
"Of course not, my Lord." Ninex said with a hurt tone, which make many raise eyebrows as this is unusual behavior by a member of Mechanicum. "I have ensured every vehicle has been properly maintained and readied for war."
Atharion nodded and look around the chamber, looking at the faces here, the faces that he may not see again for a long time.
"Then we will begin our final battle after the bombardment ended."
"For the Emperor!"
All said in unison.
After a total of 32 hours of orbital bombardment, Dark Knights and the 20 Auxilia Regiments begin their landings. Drop pods and Thunderhawks from the Dark Knights, Valkyries and Devourer Dropship from the Auxilia fill the orbit as they begin their descent.
Other than these transport, Thunderbolt from different squadrons have also assigned to escort mission. Other than the Thunderbolt armed with quad nose-mounted Autocannons and a pair of twin-linked Lascannons, it's variant, Thunderbolt Fury that replace the Lascannons with a pair of twin-linked Avenger Bolt Cannons is also present. While the Fury are assign on pruly securing air supernerfity, while the Thunderbolt also assign on ground support mission with it's Lascannons.
As the drop pods slammed into the earth, the Deathwatch and Sisters of Battle were already engaged, fighting Orks among the shattered ruins of the castle. Their goal was clear—secure the spaceport at all costs.
This world held hundreds of castles, but only three of them contained functional spaceports. Two were already overrun, choked with Orks and riddled with sprawling tunnel networks that made any assault costly and uncertain. That left only this fortress. After studying predictions and assessments, Atharion chose it as the Crusade's staging ground. Even without the aid of the orbital bombardment, losses in taking this stronghold were expected to be low compared to the others.
When the drop pods slammed open, one hundred and fifty Astartes of the 5th Company surged forth with weapons primed. Reorganized by Sevran into a pure assault force, the company boasted a high number of assault squads and breacher squads.
The assault marines roared into the open ground, chain and power weapons carving into mobs of Orks caught in the open. The brutal whine of chain weapons mixed with the thunder of bolt pistols, cutting a bloody path through the green tide. At the same time, breacher squads advanced methodically into the ruins, their towering boarding shields locked in formation. Ork gunfire and crude rockets slammed against the shield wall to little effect, while disciplined bursts of bolter fire cut down any foe foolish enough to hold position.
As the 5th Company secured more ground alongside the Deathwatch and the Sisters, the sky above roared with fresh landings. Thunderhawks and Valkyries swept down through the smoke and fire, their hulls battered by flak but unbroken. Auxilia and Astartes poured from their transports, spreading out toward the front lines. From the belly of the Thunderhawk Transports, Rhinos and Predators rumbled into the ash-choked ruins, engines howling as they raced forward to reinforce the vanguard.
Atharion moved quickly, exiting his Stormbird with his Honor Guards around him, and the moment the occupants fully out, he order the Stormbird to take off, opening a new space for next Thunderhawks to land.
"Quickly!" Atharion's voice thundered across the vox. "This castle must be secured, and the rubble cleared at once! Order the Dreadnoughts to disengage and return to the port—they will break apart the debris."
Around him, the landing zone was chaos—bolter fire, the crack of lasguns, and the shrieks of dying Orks.
When one of the massive landing pads was finally cleared, the first Devourer Dropship descended, engines howling as dust and smoke billowed outward. With a heavy thud, it set down, and its assault ramp slammed open.
One after another, armored transports rolled out—Chimeras, Chimerax, Chimedons, and Chimerros—their engines growling as they surged forward to join the battle. Infantry poured from their hatches when they reach their destination, fanning out with disciplined precision, while the heavier variants immediately brought their weapons to bear, laying down suppressive fire on Ork strongpoints.
As more landing pads were cleared, additional Dropships thundered down in turn, their ramps grinding open to unleash fresh waves of war machines.
Four of the massive craft bore no transports within. Instead, their cavernous holds disgorged tanks—the armored spearhead of the Auxilia. Leman Russ battle tanks rumbled onto the stone landing grounds, their turrets already swiveling to seek targets. Alongside them came their variants, Demolishers with siege cannons, Exterminators with twin autocannons, and Vanquishers armed with long-barreled anti-armor guns.
But the true monsters followed. With earth-shaking weight, twelve Baneblades rolled down the ramps, their colossal frames dwarfing every vehicles present. Each super-heavy tank was a fortress of steel and guns, bristling with battle cannons, demolisher cannons, and countless secondary weapons.
The Baneblades advanced without pause, their treads grinding ancient stone beneath them, crushing rubble and even toppling half-collapsed towers that dared to block their path. Masonry shattered like sand against their bulk, clearing the way for the crusading host.
As they rumbled forward, the skies above filled once more—Thunderhawks and massive troop transporters descending through the smoke and cloud cover. The landing pads shook under the weight of fresh reinforcements. Ramp by ramp, new Astartes strode into the warzone. The Imperial Fists emerged first, their yellow ceramite gleaming even beneath the ash, boltguns ready as they immediately fell into disciplined formations. Moments later, the Space Wolves thundered out behind them, their howls carrying across the battlefield as they charged, chainswords revving and frost-axes raised high.
"Captain Madius," Atharion said as the Imperial Fists approached him. "You will be the commanding officer of this castle. Once the Orks have been driven from these walls, your duty will be to fortify the area and ensure the Crusade has a stable bastion for the campaign ahead."
Captain Madius inclined his head, his voice steady, unshaken even amid the thunder of war. "It will be done, Atharion. You may place your trust in the Sons of Dorn—we will hold."
Atharion's reply came with a small smile as he clasped the Captain's shoulder. "Of course. That is why I entrust it to you."
"Then I shall see to the preparations at once." Madius said, offering a final nod before turning back to his brothers, already beginning to bark orders as the Imperial Fists moved with practiced precision to their task.
"Lord Atharion, this is Gideon." The vox crackled, Gideon's voice cutting sharply into the channel.
"Yes, Gideon. Report."
"A large Ork force is advancing from the north. We count significant vehicle columns among them."
"Understood. Move to intercept and hold them off. You have permission to call for air support if needed. They must not arrive at their destination."
"Your will Lord."
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The vox clicked silent. Gideon lifted his gaze, the horizon already rumbling with the approach of crude Ork vehicles, belching smoke and fire as they tore across the battlefield.
"By the order of the Supreme Grand Master, we will destroy them before they reach the landing point." He declared, his voice calm and resolute as he gunned the engine of his Scimitar Jetbike.
Around him, the full strength of the 2nd Company came alive. Engines roared to life as squadrons of Scimitar Jetbikes and Javelin Attack Speeders surged forward.
The 2nd Company didn't deploy within the ruins, instead they deploy outside the ruins, tasks with killing Orks that got push out of the ruins and also stop any possible Orks that move to challenge the landing. And with them having the largest armoury of fast attack vehicles, it's only logical that they are assign with this task.
With a sweep of his arm, Gideon gave the signal. The 2nd Company charged. The Javelins thundered at the spearhead, their Cyclone missile launchers, lascannons, and hunter-killer missiles screaming into the Ork column. Explosions ripped through the crude vehicles, turning trukks and battlewagons into blazing wrecks.
On the flanks, the Scimitars struck like lightning. Jetbikes weaved between enemy machines, plasma guns spitting bolts of incandescent fire while riders hurled krak grenades and melta charges into engines and fuel tanks. The Ork convoy became a rolling inferno, vehicles colliding and careening into each other under the onslaught.
The fighting was brutal and swift. In less time than it took for the smoke to clear, the Ork column lay in ruin—burning hulks scattered across the plain, the air thick with black fire and the stench of promethium. Not a single Dark Knight had fallen; only shallow scars marred their armor and the paint of their machines. The 2nd Company had carved through the greenskin horde with ruthless precision, leaving nothing but wreckage in their wake.
As the last flames burned, a new sound reached them—a deep, steady thunder rolling across the battlefield. Gideon turned, his visor catching the sight of massive transports lumbering toward the landing pads, their engines growling as they carried men, machines, and supplies. Vulnerable as they were, their presence was proof enough: the castle was secure.
The first battle on this world was over. But all who stood upon its broken soil knew it was only the beginning.