Compliance of Ishtar Primaris

Smoke rose on the horizon. It had
been 3 days since orbital bombardment had commenced upon Ishtar Primaris. The
Imperium had arrived to reunite with their lost brothers from across the stars.
The people of Ishtar had survived the Long Night relatively unscathed, a small
colony lost in the depths of the Segmuntum Pacificum. When the fleets of the
Imperial Navy arrived, they had found a thriving star empire stretching across
a dozen worlds and many more satellites. They had hailed the intruding Imperium
harshly, ready to defend their territory from these foreign invaders. When
instead it had turned out to be men from distant Terra, there was much
jubilation. At long last, they could reconnect with their distant ancestors.
The peoples of Ishtar had flourished by maintaining the ancient teachings of
the Dark Age of Technology. Equality, peace, knowledge. They explained to the
astonished Imperials that this had allowed them to keep their planet together
during the great cataclysms that had plagued all of mankind. Eventually, they
had reached the stars once again, albeit at much lower speeds than was
previously possible. Indeed, it was the work of generations to reach the edge
of their solar system. They still had not perfected the technology to go beyond
the gravity of their own star.

The Imperium were willing to
welcome them back into the fold, eagerly hoping to gain such resourceful and
noble people to strengthen mankind’s advance across the galaxy. The Ishtari
people agreed with their policies on unity against a hostile galaxy, for even
with their slow spread through their system, they had encountered hostile
xenos. Then things had gone wrong. The Ishtari were happy to ally themselves
with the Imperium and help contribute with their struggle for all of mankind. However,
they were unwilling to simply surrender their hard-won independence the moment
a foreign power came knocking. Not even for their ancestral home would they
simply give over their freedom. The Imperial commander had not accepted their
terms. Blows had been struck. The navies of the two powers clashed, the
Imperial commander supremely confident in the supremacy of their ships. They
were mistaken. Expeditionary Fleet 349 was lost, with no survivors. Within a
month, the Light Bringers had arrived, to show what happened to those who
thought to defy the Imperium of Man.

Ohr Marcion watched the horizon, as
the flames of their bombardment continued even now. The land was a broken
thing, scarred beyond all recognition with only the dead to call it home. “*This was the result of their blind defiance*
in the face of the Imperial Truth”*, he thought to himself. The warriors of*
his Aleph scoured through the wreckage of the great city, searching for
survivors to finish. Speaker Nicodemus had given the order that no quarter
would be given to any that dared fight against the Imperium. Distantly, the
rattle of autogun fire could be heard. It was rather impressive really. Even
after the near total destruction of their civilisation, the people of Ishtar
Primaris still fought against the triumphant Imperials. Frustrating too,
Marcion hated it when a foe refused to admit it was dead. He gathered his
command squad together and began to make his way towards the sound of fighting.

“These men
fight bravely. It would be a shame to waste their honour wouldn’t it Kallux?”
Waspur asked glibly. The two of them were under heavy fire, the Ishtari had
managed to maintain a foothold in the capital even now. Their squad had been
ambushed during their sweep, dozens of men and women wielding basic
autoweapons. Unfortunately, there had been something larger, some sort of beam
weapon. Tannar had died instantly, cut in half by the monstrously powerful
beam. Ieal hadn’t fared much better, a lucky shot hitting the munitions on his
belt and incinerating him in a fireball. Two others had been caught in the
blast and taken down as they lay stunned. Leaving only the last two remaining.
“Stay focused Kallux, you damn fool. Support will be enroute, but I haven’t any
intention of dying to the likes of these.” Waspur laughed at his brother’s
frustration, knowing he had stoked his choler. Kallux was at his best angry,
and Waspur would take any advantage he could get in this situation. Leaning out
of cover, he sprayed bolt rounds at the enemy, the rounds leaving great holes
in their targets. "They're certainly tenacious bastards, aren't they
brother?" Waspur grinned. Even as he said it, 3 of them charged their
position, covered behind a solid hunk of metal. Bolt rounds left huge dents in
the material, but Waspur's bolter couldn't quite penetrate it. "A little
assistance brother, if that isn't too much to ask?" The fire upon his
position intensified as the Ishtari closed with him. He saw now what the 3rd
soldier was carrying. Wrapped around his heavy frame were explosives, something
high yield and industrial by the look of it. Waspur really didn't want these
going off near him, if the rest of their weaponry was anything to go off. There
was no response from Kallux either. "*That*
bastard better not have gone and died too. Like hell am I being dying to these
pissants*" he thought to himself. Suddenly, the whine of a chainsword*
rang out. Looking beyond the moving barricade, Waspur saw Kallux cutting down
foes like bloody chaff. The barrier was outflanked, the bearers despatched with
accurate bolt rounds destroying their bodies.

"I
told you to stay focused Waspur. There's too many of them to take this
lightly." Even as he spoke, a score of autogun fire raked Kallux's cover.
A couple well placed rounds hit, but the sturdiness of his Mk. 2 power armour
stopped penetration. The black, gold and white was splattered in bloody red
viscera, his chainsword still fresh in Ishtari blood. "Yes, I can see your
enthusiasm for this, brother. Now let's push them back, I don't want them getting
any more ideas on what to do." And with that, the two Astartes began to
move up. It was a carefully choreographed maneuver, each bounding from cover to
cover, suppressing the heavier weapon emplacements before moving up. As they
passed each gun nest, they would grenade the position and move on. In short
order, 3 such targets were destroyed. The occupants were blasted to pieces or
cut down, by bolter and by blade. And as they began to push the enemy back to a
retreat, the enemy armour appeared. It bore a
similar appearance to a great crustacean, a low squat body standing upon 8
striding legs. “Ah. That doesn’t look too promising” Waspur murmured. And then
it opened fire. The rate of fire from its internal arms was astounding,
rockcrete walls shredded like paper. Kallux disintegrated, his body pulped by
the sheer force of lead hitting his position. Even an Astarte’s fortitude only
went so far. That left Waspur alone, against a numerically superior and better
armed foe. Just what an Astarte was made for. If the walls weren’t cover, then
they were at least concealment. The armoured crustacean stopped firing, venting
searing hot gases out of its back. A weakness then. Waspur ran, his body bent
double. Fire came his way, bullets coming from his left. He ignored them,
trusting in the Mechanicum’s work to protect him. The walker opened fire again,
but he’d anticipated it. Rounds whistled toward him, but he had positioned
himself between the walker and the infantry. Death came from their own weapons,
Ishtari turning into a bloody red mist. The gunfire stopped again, he had to
take the chance. Waspur sprinted, ignoring anything apart from his target. This
was it. Chainsword drawn, he struck at the walker’s foreleg. The armour plating
held, but it reeled back away from the Astarte. He struck again, using the
weapon as a handhold. It wasn’t graceful, as the walker bucked and scrambled
back, but he had managed to get on top. Small arms fire intensified against the
lone warrior, riding the Ishtari armour. One round clipped a weakened joint,
his knee exploded in pain.

“*So, this is how it ends for me.*
On some backwater world, cut down by cowards who won’t even look at me when
they kill me. Could have been better.*”*
The world exploded in fury and noise. Heavy firepower, Imperial
firepower ripped across the warzone. Time seemed to slow as Waspur watched
rounds fly. He could almost read the serial numbers stamped upon the metal
shell. As he watched, foes were blown apart in bursts of gore. The very earth
was seared by the irradiated shells, dosing the already ruined cityscape in
another level of deadliness. “BELLUM LUX” came the cry, echoing around the
ruins. Dozens of Astartes opened fire, charging the downed Waspur’s position.
They gave no quarter, making quick but bloody work of it. Marcion led the
charge against the crustacean, his chainsword cutting deep into the already
damaged limb. With a vicious blow, the entire leg was removed. The walker
reeled back; its precarious balance lost. Using the lull, he finished the job Waspur
had started. Bolt rounds exploded within the vent, causing an overload. The
rear end blew out, pillars and walls demolished by the explosion. And then it
was over.

“I need an apothecary over here,
now” the ohr spoke into his vox. He looked over the remains of the battle, it
had been ugly. Five good men dead, another seriously wounded. These were the
worst moments for Marcion. Not the result of the battle, but the fact it had
happened at all. The blind, arrogant fools. The apothecary rushed over, narthecium
ready to deliver powerful painkillers into the downed man’s system. “You fought
well Waspur, no need to regret the loss. We’ll clear it from here.” The downed
Astarte weakly saluted from the floor. “Of course, sir. Happy to obey” Kallux
replied sardonically. Marcion nodded, his attention already on the next report
of combat coming across the vox. It was going to be a bloody one.