986.M41: Cellos VI
Imperial battle line
The explosions rocked the Imperials, sending men flying. The commissar ignored the screams, ordering the men forward to die for the Emperor. Las-fire flew from the Imperials, their shots doing nothing against the regenerative necrodermis that made up the Necron's bodies.
While the guardsmen charged forward, the commanders argued over what they were going to do.
"We aren't gaining any ground. We've been here over a month and we haven't gained a sodding inch!" One of the Colonels ranted, "We need armor! Heavy armor! All we've got are infantry and artillery, how are we supposed to take a Necron tomb world with that!?"
General Gaz sighed. The Colonel was right, he knew that much, but what was he supposed to do? The Administratum was denying them any reinforcements, and the locals barely had anything better than bows and arrows.
They were in a tight spot, and it showed.
"We have to keep trying. The Necrons are refusing to come out, and are on the defensive. We have that on our side at least." He noted.
They continued arguing, trying to figure out what to do. Above them, a ship exited the warp a few hundred thousand kilometers away from the planet. The ships already in orbit did a spit take, before trying to hail the ships communications system.
"Attention unknown vessel, please identify, you are entering restricted space-"
"Hello? Is this thing on?" a voice said over the comm.
Two of the crewmen looked at each other, not really sure what to make sure of the situation, "I repeat, Please Identify, you are entering restricted space under the jurisdiction of the Astra Militarum, The Emperor's holy Inquisition, and Adeptus Administratum."
"Wait, Administratum?... no, nevermind. This is Captain Jarod Carolinus of the Emperor's boot, we were made aware of the situation on Callous V and are here to offer aid." Jarod explained.
The crewman pressed a few buttons, checked a few logs, and did some searching, "Umm… I'm afraid your ship isn't coming up in any records, please respond."
The line was static for a moment before Jarod spoke again, "Should I have mentioned I'm a Rogue Trader? Heir to the late Robert Carolinus?" he answered.
The crewman did another search and paled when he found the only file matching those variables, "Please confirm, the Rogue Trader by the name Robert Carolinus is dead and you were his heir?"
"That is correct."
"Please standby…" He said, before muting his mic and turning to the Inquisitor sitting in the captain's chair, "Inquisitor? We've gotten confirmation from the ship."
The Inquisitor jerked his head toward the crewman, "Well? Who are they?" he asked.
The crewman gulped, "They claim to be here to aid the troops on the planet's surface. The ship is captained by the Rogue Trader Jarod Carolinus, heir to the late Robert Carolinus."
The Inquisitor stared at the crewman for what was far longer than was healthy, "A Rogue Trader?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Out here of all places?"
"Yes, sir… with respect, sir, what should I tell them?"
The Inquisitor mulled the situation over before answering. Reinforcements were needed after all, "Tell him to meet me on in the ships docking bay."
[-----]
Inquisitor Karev stood in the docking bay, awaiting the arrival of the Rogue Trader. If his tale was to be believed, he was likely very young and it was possible that he could manipulate him into assisting the Imperial Guard on the planet below. Admittedly there had been more Necrons on the planet's surface then they expected, so the help would be appreciated.
The transport flew into the bay, landing with all the grace that an Imperial ship could before the doors opened. The first thing the Inquisitor took notice of, were the two massive Space Marines standing at either side of the Rogue Trader. He kept his surprise hidden, but it did truly shock him that the man had somehow gotten two of the Emperor's angles to stand at his side.
The one on the Rogue Traders right was clad in black and blue power armor, with a star on his right pauldron and a power sword at his waist. An ex-deathwatch operative, if the Inquisitor were to guess. The one on his left had no identifiable markings save for a grey skull painted on his pauldron, in stark contrast to the black color of his armor. He carrier a bolter and a bolt pistol at his side. A Blackshield if ever he had seen one. Doubtless, the Ordo Hereticus would love to get their hands on him, but Karev couldn't really care less.
There were a few others in the retinue -- Guardsmen, considering their attire, -- but he paid them little mind.
"Inquisitor." The man -- boy more like, now that he looked at him -- greeted.
"Jarod Carolinus, Rogue Trader. It is good to meet another servant of the Emperor." He said with a warm smile. Well, as warm a smile that an Inquisitor could give anyway.
Karev eyed him up and down, getting a feel for him. He could not have been more than twenty-five year's old. He dressed in a brown long-coat, with a power sword at his hip and a las-pistol on his thigh. His hair was cropped short and he wore a pair of glasses. It actually surprised him slightly when Karev realized how short the man was, as the Inquisitor was a full head taller than him.
Jarod seemed to be doing the same to the Inquisitor as, as he looked him over.
"Ordo Xenos, Correct?" He asked.
Karev raised an eyebrow, "You are correct. How did you know?"
Jarod chuckled, "The poorly disguised Shuriken pistol might have given it away. Might want to have that looked at."
The Inquisitor quietly slipped said weapon deeper into his coat, thanking the Emperor on the golden throne that the Space Marines did not seem to have any issue with him owning such a device. He could have sworn he'd hid it better…
"Regardless of my contraband, I would ask how you managed to get the Adeptus Astartes to follow you. I cannot imagine that would be an easy feat." He said, rapidly changing the subject.
"Easier than you might think," Jarod said with a shrug, "In any case, let's skip the pleasantries and get down to business. The people down on the surface are currently fighting Necrons, correct?"
The Inquisitor nodded.
"Well, we are here to assist the Guard forces currently engaged on the planet's surface. All we ask is to be able to recruit from the existing regiments to refill our own once the battle has been concluded, and that you do not interfere with our methods of attack." Jarod explained.
"I would assume that you have your own methods of assault that differ from standard doctrine," Karev remarked.
Jarod nodded, "That is correct. If I can ask, what are the current logistics of the campaign so far?" He asked.
The Inquisitor welcomed the Rogue Trader and his space marine escorts into the war room in order to discuss the state of the campaign. The full campaign started with success but quickly turned afoul once the Necron's had fully awakened. The five tomb entrances had been surrounded and were under continuous assault, but little or no progress had been made due to the hardy nature of the Necron's and their technology. After much revision and strategic discussion, the forces on the ground decided that the tomb entrance on the northern continent was the only one that could be taken with any form of success.
The Necrons themselves had been completely on the defensive, never wandering more than a hundred meters from the tomb entrances. Several Necron units had been spotted, Warriors and Immortals, and a few Lychguards. The Necrons had constructed a wall surrounding the entrance as well, lining it with Gauss Pylons and other defenses to keep the Imperials out.
"What would it take to target the Gauss Pylons with as much firepower as possible?" Jarod asked.
"That would be a difficult task, considering they are raised up on the walls. Air support would not be able to take them out, artillery is struggling as is, and if we just charged them we would be out of troops before the first man reached them." Karev explained.
Jarod hummed, "I wonder… you wouldn't happen to have access to grav-chutes would you?" He asked.
The Inquisitor blinked, "I have access to them yes, why do you ask?"
Jarod smiled, "I think I might have an idea."
[-----]
"You know, when you came up with this idea when we were dealing with Orks, I supported the idea. But this? This is suicide." Richard said simply.
Michael scoffed, "Oh please, we've done worse."
Richard sent the man a glare, "No, we really haven't. Unless you count allying ourselves with the frakking Eldar, which by the way, still isn't very sane."
"Well at least this time we have grave chutes, so they won't even see us coming."
Richard rolled his eyes. He checked his lasgun for what felt like the thousandth time, adjusting his rebreather for the hundredth, and straps on his grav chute for the millionth. They were expected to drop onto the Necron artillery almost from orbit, well out of the range of aforementioned artillery so that the dropships could fly overhead.
There were a total of five hundred drop troops, all of which would land near or on top of the artillery and destroy it with the det-packs each of them was equipped with. Michael was in command of the mission, having led a similar operation against the Orks.
"Alright," Michael said over the vox, "We're nearing the drop point. Everyone be ready."
The light at the door of the dropship lit up red, opening and letting the cold dry air of the planet to fly into the ship. The smell of ionized air flowed into the ship, the weapons of their enemies having devastated their allies beforehand. Then the light changed to green.
"GO GO GO!" Michael shouted. The troops ran forward, jumping out of the ships and falling towards their targets. The green beams of light that came from the Necrons weapons were visible even from several hundred meters up, and if one looked closely they could see the Imperial artillery firing on their landing zone.
Four hundred meters.
Three hundred meters.
One hundred meters.
Fifty meters and everyone activated their grave-chutes, slowing their descent as they opened fire onto the Necrons.
The high-powered Las-bolts of their modified lasguns punched into the necrodermis skin of the Necron warriors, shredding the internal components and disarming several of them. Less than ten meters away was the Necron artillery, firing onto the Imperial infantry waiting to make their charge.
The jump-troops ran forward, racing towards their target. Several of them were killed before they landed, shredded by the Atomizing weapons wielded by their enemies. Some of them misjudged the distance, activating their grav-chutes to late and slamming into the ground, becoming fleshy piles of meat.
Michael rolled behind cover, narrowly avoiding a beam of green energy. He shot off a few Las-bolts, before running out of cover again. This was the pattern repeated by the many guardsmen that had landed and were making their way toward the artillery.
Finally, they reached the artillery battery.
"Squads two, three and seven prepare the charges! Everyone else, give them cover fire!" Michael shouted over the sounds of lasfire, explosives, and the screams of dying men.
Michael peaked out of cover just in time to see one of the Necrons go down, several guardsmen focusing fire on it. What Michael hadn't realized until now, however, was that the ones farther behind were starting to get back up. The melted, misshapen holes formed in the armor of the Necrons started to slowly close, missing limbs started reattaching themselves, and scorched burns crumbled away to reveal shining chrome.
"They're getting back up! Tell me you're almost done with those charges!" Michael shouted behind him.
One of the soldiers who had been with those planting the explosives rushed forward to Michael's side, diving into cover to avoid getting atomized.
"Sir! We already set off one of the det-packs and it barely scratched it! What's that thing made out of!?" the soldier reported.
Michael glanced back at the towering piece of alien technology and watched as it sent another blast of energy soaring towards their allies, killing who knows how many men. He cursed as he saw another one of his men go down.
"Keep trying!" He ordered, "That thing has a weakness, everything does. You just have to find it."
The man nodded before they both heard the clank of metal above them. Michael looked up just in time to see a Necron warrior climbing over his cover, driving a blade of energy down towards him. Michael dodged, just barely, and the sword went straight through the ground beneath where he had been sitting. Michael lifted his lasgun, emptying the power cell into the Necrons' chest.
The Necron fell forward, collapsing in on itself due to the massive hole in its chest. Michael to the opportunity to race further back toward the artillery battery in hopes of fixing the mess they had gotten themselves into.
He soon found himself at the back of the line -- not that he had run very far, a dozen meters at most -- and backing himself against another piece of cover. He spotted another of his men trying to pry what looked like a loose piece of metal from the weapon, perhaps hoping to blow it up from the inside out. Taking a deep breath, Michael leaped out of cover, rushing towards the man's position.
"What are you doing?" Michael asked as he found a piece of waist-high metal to stand behind.
"Sir! We found a hatch and I'm trying to get it open, but it won't budge!"
Michael cursed for the thousandth time that day, breaking his cover to help the man. With his mechanical arm, he soon found purchase, then he pulled. Contrary to what many would believe, an arm designed by the Adeptus Mechanicus is a fairly powerful thing, and even a low-quality one has the strength to bend steel.
Michael's was no exception, as it had been designed by a former Magos. The metal of the hatch groaned at the force being put upon it as Micheal pulled with all his strength. After less than a few seconds, the hatch gave, and the metal ripped open to reveal the contents therein. Wires, panels, and glowing rods made up the alien design, none of it meaning anything to him. He simply reached over to the soldier, grabbed the det-pack, primed it, then threw it into the machine and slammed the hatch shut.
"TAKE COVER!" Michael yelled as he threw himself to the ground.
[-----]
The first sign of success was when the enemy artillery exploded in a shower of green flame. The commissars gave the word to charge, and so the men charged. The earthshaker platforms fired, hammering into the Necron defenses. It was the first time they had gained any sort of ground in weeks.
"They did it!" Gaz said to himself as he stared at the battlefield before him in disbelief. Behind him, the Rogue Trader chuckled.
"Of course they did it. They had a superior strategy to basic trench warfare after all." He said simply.
The General turned to stare at the man, his jaw slack. The young Rogue Trader was just smiling, his coat flapping in the wind as he looked out onto the charging hoards of men.
"We've been trying to do that for weeks! And you did in a single day, no, not even that, a few hours!" Gaz stated, trying to figure out why they were only now having a victory.
"It's simple General. The Inquisitor was trying his best go through the enemies walls. He never stopped to think what would happen if he tried to go over them." Jarod explained.
Minutes later, the Imperial Guard held a large portion of the wall and were slowly but gradually conquering more of it. The men from the assault on the battery were transported to the back lines as soon as they were reached, with Gaz and Jarod going to meet them. Of the five-hundred men issued on the drop, only just over a hundred returned.
Jarod soon picked Michael out of the survivors, though his partner in crime did not come back unscathed.
"Second degree burns all over your back, both legs are broken, and a crushed right hand. On top of that, your blood sugar seems to be running low." Jarod listed off a list a nurse had given him.
Michael groaned as he lay face down in a medical bed, his back covered in bandages and burn medication. His legs were both in casts, and his hand was in a similar state. Though at least his cybernetic seemed to be functioning just fine considering the fact he was currently flipping off his superior.
"You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were a bit to close to that explosion," Jarod said in a condescending tone.
Michael just groaned again.
Jarod chuckled, "Well at least you're alive. That's more than I can say for the commissar who tried to order my men to the front line."
Michael groaned questioningly.
"No, I didn't kill him. I just sent him to the front line while the rest of your guys got sent back up to the ship."
Another groan.
"Yes, he's dead. I checked the casualty report myself."
More groaning.
"No, I didn't try to steal his hat. Robert had one in his treasure room on the ship anyway, all I needed was his coat."
One more groan.
Jarod sighed, "Yeah, you and me both."
Jarod eventually left Michael to his recovery, deciding to go watch over the rest of the campaign. With the destruction of the outer wall, they were able to get a more in-depth look at the tombs below. What they found wasn't pretty. It turned out that the entire planet was almost one giant tomb, not all too surprising when compared to other tomb worlds, but it was far more than the Imperial Guard were prepared to deal with on their own.
Jarod grimaced as he checked the casualty reports of the other tomb entrances. Over a hundred thousand dead in just one assault. Not a lot on a grand scale all things considered, but when they only had access to a few million troops, and not much armor to begin with, it started looking rather bleak.
With little else to do, Jarod tried to plan for the future. Or maybe even see it, if Elirom's training had done him any good.