Priority alarm.

Invasion fleet detected. Origins, Unknown.

Invasion target: Typon.

Classification: Agri World.

Strategic value: Medium.

Recommended Course of Action?

Fleet size?

Seven. Six of these are estimated at nearly eight hundred meters in length. Largest vessel in the fleet is unknown, due to circler nature.

Liberation fleet?

No forces in the sector outside of forces deployed.

Information on enemy forces?

Enemy unknown. Vessel designs without a match.

Strategic value: Set to High.

Forces needed. Intel needed.

Execute request order.

ADEPTUS ASTARTES.

Response Incoming.

Deploying Gaia's Dragons.

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The battle barge Gaia's Wrath exited the warp, emerging at the system's Mandeville point. Appearing beyond the sixth planet in the system, it wouldn't be long that their presence was noticed by the invaders circling the fourth world in the system. Vox chatter remained dead, despite scans showing life remaining in the world. Hopefully, the Guard was still fighting, holding off whatever Xenos abomination had struck at them now. An unknown enemy was always a dangerous one.

"No signals from Typhon, my Lord. I believe our vox channels are being jammed," One of the men shouted.

"Very well. Captain!" the Astartes rumbled, turning to face the one who would command the engagement in the void. "The center craft and one of the smaller vessels. I can spare a total of sixty of our number. Use them as you see fit to capture both ships. Leave them intact enough for the Mechanicum to get whatever information they can from their data banks. And more importantly, how their technology functions. Deploy the rest of our forces through high orbital insertion."

"Yes, Chapter Master!" the Astartes soluted, as the Chapter Master stepped off the bridge. Already, commands were being barked out, with humans rushing to quickly obey. Now, he merely had is own forces to attend too.

Even with diverting that many Astartes, nearly a third of there number, the force he was bringing with him was one hundred strong. A tenth of the chapters forces. The remainder was fighting across several unconquered worlds, clearing their way through an abnormal and extremely dangerous Xeno species. Its body was that of a slime, able to eat any being from the inside out and use the remaining corpse like a puppet. Being completely sealed in armor was one of the few effective defenses against such creatures. As was a flamer.

The few members of the Librarius he had, as weak as they were, believed the creature to also have some type of hive mind or even a single entity. They were also away, scanning each world purged of this Xeno's species to make sure the job was done and done correctly. It was risky if the enemy had psykers of their own, but his faith in the God Emperor would be enough. It had been before, and it certainly would be again.

His commands had already relayed, a third of the Space Marines under his command making their way to Shark Assault Boats, while the remainder were already heading towards their drop pods, both Astartes and morals alike.

Standard pattern drop pods were being boarded, while he stepped towards his personal pod, the sound of thunder made him pause, turning around as three Dreadnoughts marched into view.

Each was armed with a chainfist and twin linked heavy bolters. Each he remembered well, a group of triplets that had been recruited early in their chapter's history. It was a shame what had happened to them, but they lived to continue fighting.

"Permission granted, Ancients," he said, already anticipating their question. They rumbled as if laughing.

"You are older than we are, Chapter Master. If anyone should be called that, it is you," the lead spoke, making his way toward Dreadnought drop pods. "The Emperor Protects."

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"Sir, an unknown ship has appeared on our scanners. We believe it just jumped into the system," a humanoid machine spoke, informing a green-skinned alien sitting in his chair.

"What? Are you certain?" Its red eyes flicked forward, away from the information coming from below. He had hoped they would be done by now, able to retreat once the forces on the ground were broken, and ideally, plant evidence that someone else was behind the attack. But the forces below, despite their somewhat primitive weaponry, had proven much more resilient than expected.

"Roger Roger," a different machine spoke, each continuing to care out its functions aboard the vessel. The Neimoidian frowned as he looked at the incoming data. Already its form could be seen, it's hull dominating the black void as it came into view. Parts of it looked more like a city than a vessel, armed to the teeth. Five total batteries were already in view, four locked in place at the front of the ship, with the last running along the hull.

"Get me in contact with General Grievous, now!" he shouted, as the ship advanced through the void. It was only a matter of time before the vessel arrived. "All ships, into defensive formation!"

"Roger Roger," each ship moved to obey his will, turning from the surface to face the incoming threat.

"They are within hailing range sir, should we open communications?" the Neimoidian grinned at the suggestion. Yes, that would work. Even a ship of such size had its vulnerabilities. If the command deck was destroyed, the rest would be rendered useless. It would give him time to gather whatever forces weren't deployed to engage the enemy.

"Yes. I believe we should invite our uninvited guests."

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It was the loud beeping noise that drew his attention. Captian Orilon, member of the Gaia's Dragons chapter frowned. The machine was a device installed by the Machinicum, a modified version of some Xeno's device. It allowed for communication across vast distances and wasn't subject to the parrels of the warp, like the Astra Telepathica. It was still being phased in on several fleets, and while it hadn't replaced the Vox on the ground, it served it's purpose well.

However, there were no other ships in the fleet, and he doubted it would Gaia's High Lords or even the Inquisition. It left a single conclusion. The Xenos fleet before them used similar technology and was trying to communicate with them. The soldiers on deck stilled, waiting for orders.

"Can they hear us?" was his first question. If they could listen in on their plans, that was problematic. They could not afford the enemy an ear.

"No, they cannot," a member of the Machinicum rasped, voice distorted by an unknown number of mechanical arguments. He appeared more machine than man. "We would have to let them in, and I am confident we can cut the connection as well. It's Machine Spirit is quite strong. It won't be corrupted by Xeno's Heresy so easily."

He pondered for a moment. Nothing good would come from such communication. It was bait, a trap. An attempt to distract him, nothing more. But his plans were already in motion. Even without knowing each craft's exact specifics, the smaller vessel's truly couldn't have much shielding. He would test them first, yes, it wouldn't take long to figure out how much-concentrated punishment one could take.

"Open channels," he said firmly, "I will speak with this Xeno. Prepare all weapons and bring all hands to battle stations." The device flickered to life, creating a static blue image, crackling, before revealing the Xeno. More than a few deck hands face's wrinkled in disgust at the creature's massive eyes, and noseless face. He watched its face and eyes twitch, helmet hiding his disgust. Was this the threat they faced on the plant? He doubted it.

"Have you contacted us to surrender, Xeno, or are you merely wasting time?" he rumbled, the creature seeming to stumble back. It appeared to have fear on its wrinkled face, staring in some form of mute shock. Its mouth moved, but no words came out. Pitiful. How could such a worm command any military force?

"My lord! Our bombardment cannons and R.A.I.L. gun are within range! We will be within range with all remaining weaponry in two minutes," one of the deck hands shouted. Beneath his helmet, the Astartes smirked. Yes, it was outside of protocol, and the man would be punished for it, but such psychological warfare had its place. If this creature was as spineless as it had shown itself, it might abandon its forces on the planet.

"Fail to comply, and you will be destroyed," the Astartes said, before turning to the tech-priest, nodding slightly. As soon as it had appeared, its image of the Xeno's vanished. It had its time frame. Not that it mattered. One way or another, the creature would be captured and interrogated, or better yet, dead, alongside the remaining soldiers on each vessel. The Ordo Xenos would enjoy such a gift.

Then, retribution would come. For their crimes against the human race, they would burn.

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"Vessel is maintaining speed. If what they say was accurate, we'll be within their range before they are within ours," the droid reported, as the Neimodian clinched his fist. Time was no longer on their side. That, that thing, made it clear enough. It wasn't human, not like the ones fighting bellow. It was like talking to a machine, one that didn't simply fallow out orders. On that could feel emotions.

There was a reason none had been foolish enough to try such a thing. He could hear the disgust, all directed at him. Even from that distance, he felt fear. Where there more? The human aboard referred to it as a lord. A title of leadership and respect. But if they could make one, why would they stop at only making.

"Sir, the vessel is transmitting a radio signal of some kind towards the planet," another spoke suddenly, causing him to frown even more. "I don't think we can jam it." What purpose would such things serve? They must have been trying to contact ground forces to inform them that reinforcements had arrived. Maybe coordinating some type of battle plan? No, that simply wouldn't do.

"Launch all fighters we have. Let them buy us the time we need," a cruel smirk making its way on his face. "If we can't jam the transmission, then listen in. We need as much information as possible."

"Roger Roger."

He regretted it immediately. The message had no strategic value of all.

"Men and Women of the Imperium! You have held the line against the Xenos invaders, and your call for aid has been received! And we have answered! We are the Emperor's Angels of Death! We are his blade and his wrath! Stand firm, loyal soldiers of the Imperium for soon, we will fight by your side!"

"Shut it off!" he snapped, clutching his chair. They had provoked a bunch of raving madmen. Absolute raving madmen. They needed to escape, now. There was no intention of capturing him. They intended to kill anyone they would find. And when they were done, they would find the other Separatist worlds. He could only imagine it. Hundreds, thousands, of those things, marching on every world they found, killing anything they could find, the same blue and green helmet with glowing red eyes watching worlds burn.

"We need to escape, now!" he shouted, standing up, only to watch in horror as shot tore through the shield of one of the Munificent frigates. Explosion's erupted across the ship, finishing the job the shot hadn't. Even as the ship tore itself apart, one thing remained frighteningly clear. It hadn't just pierced the ship 's, or the ship itself. It had carried its way through, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

"Sir, they have opened fire! What should we!" One of the holograms was cut off as another exploded, barely being able to take the concentrated firepower being wrought against its shields. Followed by a third.

"Fire!" he shouted, panicked, as red bolts of energy from the remaining ships dispensed their shots into the void. Turbolasers fired into the vessel, even as the fourth ship burst into flames. There was one behind it, somehow left untouched for more than shot or two. It was left like that for a reason.

The fourth burst into flames, tilting in orbit, as the enemy vessel continued to bore down on their position. He could imagine the crunch as the last Munificent was destroyed, the enemy vessel smashing its way through, like a hammer of a god pulled straight from the myths of any world.

The ship rumbled, lights flashing before things stilled.

"Our shields are down sir," one of the droids spoke. Then came what sent chills down his spine. "There are also life forms on board."

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He despited waiting. Truly, Astartes were never made for such a thing, not when a battle was close. It did not take long, he expected nothing less, as he felt gravity take hold. Only a handful of larger pods fell, carrying his battle brothers into the fray, while smaller pods rained by the hundreds, each containing an OSAT into battle.

Many chapters wouldn't dare bring mortals like this into battle, but he had to disagree. While they were not Astartes, and they lacked the numbers of the Imperial Guard, they had much better equipment, some of the best wargear outside of a Chapter, especially for what many considered a death sentence.

They were elite soldiers, survivors of many battles, which was why they had been given such a role. It was useful, adding much-needed numbers, even if each soldier was weaker than an Astartes, having mortal support was never a horrible thing.

His decent came to an end, the Chapter Master already hearing the groans of metal around him. It appeared something decided to break his fall. It took but a second for him to break his way out, stepping out into the ruins of what was once some form of tank, his face twisting in disgust as he saw the nature of the enemy.

Machines. It appeared the enemy was too much of a coward to fight their own battles.

"Drop you're!" he didn't let it finish, removing its head with a single swing of his power-sword. Another was quickly destroyed by a single bolter round, tearing its way through its bulkier frame.

"Report!" He shouted, listening over the Vox as he continued his march through the machine forces. Both were weak. The first was thin, thin arms, thin legs. It was a surprise they could stand, let alone walk. They were the common grunt, even piloting their tank-like machines. Something that made little tactical sense, as he tore the crew of one apart with his own hands.

"OSAT's are joining up with Planetary Defense forces! They've lost all artillery and most of their armored units! Your command, Chapter Master!" Unfortunate, but not unexpected. They did well, to hold out as long as they had.

"Their armored units are fairly weak, an unguarded hatch in the front that can easily be removed. Try to find their leader as well. If we remove what controls these abominations, the sooner this battle is done," he let his voice ring out in authority over the Vox. Each Astartes was an army unto themselves, and he was certain more than a few of his men had stayed behind to provide additional support to the mortal forces. Good, they were willing to put their duty before glory.

Their enemy had come in force, it seemed like. Even as reports came in about two enemy vessels being captured, he had to wonder how many such an army like this could bring. Seven ships had brought what could number in the tens of thousands, likely more. An army that was made entirely of machines would be quick to replenish the loses this day, even if they were absolute. This was a threat that needed to be dealt with, as soon as possible.

Ideally, what was captured would have enough information to allow them to remove this threat before they became aware that this attack had failed. But things rarely went as planned, and it would likely bring an end to the ongoing crusade against the slime creatures. Most, actually, might have to be redirected, as concerning as it was.

But that was a thought for another day, and he only had command over his Chapter. Ideally, Gaia's High Lords would agree with this.

One of the machine's personal shields was crushed, allowing his bolter to destroy the strange machine that rolled on the ground. He locked the mental image of the abomination in his mind. Such knowledge was always useful, and he felt his Chapter would need all that it could gather for the coming war.

It was the clapping that drew his attention, followed by the rasping. He knew the sound all too well, reminding of him of many members of the Mechanicum with too many augments. He turned, looking into the eyes of something had become more metal than whatever foul Xeno's species it was in the first place.

The only living flesh he could see were two yellow, hateful eyes, even if it's gasping suggested lungs and other organs remained. It's hands ended with six fingers, two of which were thumbs. His eyes narrowed behind his helmet. No, that wasn't correct. Four arms that simply connected together was more accurate. Several weapons of unknown design were attached to the being's waste, though much more than four. It collected trophies from every kill, it seemed.

A warrior of some degree of skill at the very least. A cyborg in an entire force of machines. This might very much be the leader he was searching for. And if it wasn't, then maybe the Abomination's destruction would draw it out.

"You are no Jedi, but you are quite impressive. Your blade will be a fine addition to my collection," it's voice rasped, as the Chapter Masters eyes narrowed behind his helmet, even as his hands reached toward two of the hilts. Energy lept forth, akin to that of his own power blade.

Strange weapons indeed. Pure energy, without a secondary blade to back it up. Yet another thing to investigate about this. He remained silent. The being's head would be back at their chapter monastery than his blade fall into its hands.

But what were these Jedi? It made it sound like they were some group of warriors, and that he collected their weapons after every kill. Impressive enough to warrant the admission of such.

"Am I supposed to be impressed, Xeno?" he spoke, at last, breaking the silence. "No matter who or what you have killed, you will meet your end on my blade, for the crimes you've committed against mankind." He charged, closing the distance, firing his bolter as he went.

He would give credit where it was due. It acted much faster than the slower droids to the attack. It dodged around the bolter rounds, before blocking the overhead swing of his blade. Metal groaned as it's machine frame staved off the transhuman strength being brought against it, barely holding out.

Breaking the block, it darted back, creating space between them. More rounds left the magazine, each one as futile as the last. It didn't try to block the rounds, either. Simply evade. He would have enjoyed seeing the result of such a thing, but it seemed to realize that doing so would be a bad idea. Finally the last round was spent. It was a shame to give up his ranged advantage, but it hadn't been working thus far. A nimble opponent it may be, but it had already shown its weakness in close quarters, and that was mere with one hand, not both.

He charged again, this time staying close, both hands adding weight and fineness to each strike. Blades clashed the cyborg managing to keep pace with his blows, despite it now being on the retreat. Any openings that might be exploitable were negligible, as it needed both it's blades to block his own.

"Impressive. It'll be a shame that I have to end this now," it spoke as they locked blades. As he expected, its arms began to split apart, granting it four arms. Fighting off four blades at once would be difficult, even for an Astartes. If he had let it, of course. As two arms reached down, he released his left hand from his blade, before grabbing one set of arms near the joint.

"What!" its voice snapped in what could have been confusion, as he began to squeeze. Metal screamed in outrage against his grip, bending in ways that it never meant to. With a simple tug, they flew from their socket, and out of sight, weapons and all.

"Maybe, if you hadn't informed me, you might have been able to stab me," he spoke, smashing his fist into the chest plate of the cyborg. The crunch was satisfying, almost as much as the loud pop. Liquid, likely blood, leaked from the crumpled chest plate as it gasped and rasped. Remaining whole was impressive, even without all of his force behind it.

But it was time to end this. It could not guard against him.

He threw himself to the side, an explosion consuming the ground he once stood on. The cyborg was thrown away by the blast, landing near an unknown device. By the time he had pushed himself up, it was inside. Some type of escape craft? Such a tiny thing shouldn't get far, but he wouldn't take chances.

He advanced, armor-plated boots impacting the ground with the sound of thunder. But he was too late by merely a second. The strange ship let out a scream as it's engine's flared to life, taking off into the sky.

His teeth ground together. A shame the enemy leader escaped. It seemed like their enemy would be informed of this force's defeat after all.

He gazed around the battlefield, confirming the information coming through the vox. Enemy forces had been defeated, and the vessels captured, alongside a living Xeno.

There would be much to do, to prepare for the coming storm. But for now, there was work to be done, before they could return to the Homeworld.

Much, much work to be done.

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I will admit, this doesn't feel like my best work. I don't know whether it's because I'm out of my usual field, writing a sci-fi story like this (even if fantasy is a heavy part of both universes), or because Warhammer is something I don't have a lot of time sunk reading in, so I have no idea how to get the feeling down.

And, yes I do know I changed some things so far, and ultimately most of the that is intentional. The why would have been covered this chapter, but I couldn't make that opening work out the way I wanted, so I went with this one instead.

Feel free to ask about what I changed, or if I killed this fic before it gets off the ground.