The Destroyer of Worlds

Prologue

509997.M41

Alpha Tarsis

The sky was a pale grey, the dense clouds blanketing from one horizon to the other over Erebus, capital city of the planet Alpha Tarsis. It spoke of the beginnings of a large front moving in from the west, and would likely bring snow, possibly within the hour, Stahl judged as he returned his gaze to the storm bolter cradled in his arms, anointing it with sacred cleansing oils while he calmly spoke the litany of arming. It was itself a sacred relic of the Death Guard, gifted only to marines of Destroyer squads worthy enough to wield it. Named Harvester, it got its name not from the claw-like billhook bayonet that hung beneath its maws, but for the number of bolts it could cast across a battlefield. It was a hungry beast, as ravenous for ammunition as it was for the enemies of mankind, so it had been equipped with twin feeds that ran out the double-barreled weapon's sides to a massive drum mounted on the backpack unit of Stahl's power armor.

In the distance, the whine of ancient jet engines grew louder on the brisk midday air.

"Battle-Captain Charon returns." Voiced Stahl's sergeant, Gordreth Nul, whose crane-beaked Medicus pattern helmet turned north.

Stahl cast his eyes left and skyward to the other side of the parade ground of the city's Schola Academy where they and a large portion of the Tarsan PDF had based themselves, Stahl seeing an ancient stormbird on its way down from the Battle-Captain's meeting at the command spire with the Alpha Legion commander and Inquisitor Kryptman.

"Squad, on your feet." Gordreth ordered.

It was not long after the craft had landed, that Stahl's squad along with the six other Destroyer squads and the two terminator-clad Grave Warden Squads were called together in a half-circle around a holographic map of the local area, but all eyes were on their respected Battle-Captain, and eldest currently serving space marine not interred in a dreadnought. He was a large astartes, even in terminator armor, and had clearly taken to their primarch's gene-seed well. The ceramite plates covering him were also thicker than average, the result of many campaigns and attempted assassinations by the minions of the ruinous powers. Most notably was the angular chest plate that protected the numerous augmetics that kept him alive. Yes, although Battle-Captain Charon had served for over sixteen centuries, the old commander of the Seventh Great Company had not reached that age without significant loss to himself, and was now permanently incased in his armor.

To the Imperium at large, Domagk Charon was a living legend even when belonging to one of the less celebrated space marine legions. His triumphs were mythic, his defeats at terrible cost to his foes, so storied were his deeds that several of his strategies had later been employed by other legions and Imperial Guard units. And so long had he served that the Battle-Captain was the first member of the Death Guard to wield the sacred power scythe of Mortarion more than once. That most precious relic was clutched in Charon's fist, the blade rising above the heads of all as the only banner the Death Guard would ever truly need.

"What's the situation, sir?" Sergeant Gordreth opened.

"The main thrust of the tyranid hive fleet will fall on this world as predicted. And while the rest of the company continues to gain ground on Miral II, they will not be able to travel here in good time before the xenos are upon us." Charon spoke, his voice ragged from years of use but had lost none of its potency. "A swarm counting billions in strength will crawl upon its soil in less than two days while we make our stand here with naught but a single strike company of Alpha Legionaries and two regiments of guardsmen to count for infantry."

"An average day for us then." Sergeant Phorane of Grave Warden Squad Grivnor spoke with grim resoluteness.

"Not entirely." Charon answered. "Harrowmaster Thias Herzog was able to call upon two knight houses to defend the city through pacts the Alpha Legion made in secret with them centuries ago. House Grendel and House Griffith lands upon the planet as we speak, bringing with them three-dozen Knights."

"Snakes are good for that at least." Muttered Haggard, the grenadier of Stahl's squad.

"The Harrowmaster has laid out our battleplan as such," Charon began, waving his hand to the hologram. "The capital we stand in is surrounded by a dense range of jagged mountains, making it nigh impossible for the tyranids to cross them without incurring extreme casualties in the process, leaving the narrow pass the rail line runs through as the only direct means for them to attack the city from. Other parts of the planet are too strategically unviable to defend against a swarm of this size, so a large number of civilians from cities across the continent are being transferred in by rail." Charon's voice turned grim. "There will not be enough room for all, nor those lying across the oceans. They all will die before the swarm."

Phorane then spoke up once more. "Pardon my interruption, Battle-Captain, did you say that Harrowmaster Herzog is in overall command?"

Sergeant Yarolgaar snorted. "If it even is him, which I greatly doubt." He added. "The Alpha Legion passes on names like they do their war gear."

"Alpha Tarsis was liberated by the Alpha Legion from the Ultramarines when it was still called Tarsis Ultra. And thrice have the sons of Alpharius defended it from their vile machinations." Charon answered in a firm tone as his crimson eye lenses swept across the assembled marines. "I will not take from them the honor to defend the world they fought to keep from the archenemy. Herzog recognizes the Death Guard's strength, and standing behind battlements, he knows will only serve to shackle us. That is why while House Griffith and the guard holds the pass, we, in conjunction with House Grendel and a formation of a Death Korps heavy armor, will strike the enemy's flank using a secreted tunnel system the Alpha Legion had created centuries ago following the Ultramarines' last attempt to reclaim Alpha Tarsis."

On the holo map, the grainy teal image moved to the outside of the mountain range, a large purple arrow directed at the entrance to the mountain pass that lead to Erebus. On the plains not far away, several white arrows marked with the heraldry of the Death Guard, House Grendel, and the Aquila for the Death Korps, sprung out of the ground and pushed into the flank of the tyranid swarm. Separately, a second formation of Death Guard and Grendel Knights pushed away from the attack further out into the plains.

"I will lead the main attack on the swarm. Destroyer squads Ignatius, Cytys, and Mortentaigne will deploy with three Knights outward onto the plains in hammer and shield formation with Exterminator and Castellum Mortis Land Raiders to bar any counter flanking maneuvers. Your objective will not be to hold your position, but to hold the enemy at bay so the main force can withdraw into the tunnels before pulling back yourselves. The tunnels will be collapsed section by section so the xenos will not be able to follow. If holding is not possible, you are to join the attack, and we will together push up the pass toward the frontlines." Charon paused, the silence giving his following words meaningful weight. "This attack is not meant to be a killing blow, merely to buy time for Inquisitor Kryptman to devise some way to kill the queen commanding the swarm. We will have time to prepare before we are called upon, so rest and ready yourselves for when that time comes."

As the meeting dispersed, Stahl lingered, looking back up to the sky as the first flake of snow melted upon his eye lens. Readying himself was something Stahl was struggling with. He could not shake the feeling deep inside, the sour angst gnawing at his very soul knowing what his fate would be. Stahl knew he would die on this world.