What transpires when the Alpha Legion, renowned masters of riddles and espionage, rge their craft with the Skaven? It is a synthesis of subversion, a confluence of the galaxy's most insidious agents.
Within the Charadon Sector, Ordo Malleus Inquisitor Kayzen Hart had transferred the Pale Spear to a sub-sector under his direct jurisdiction. Reports from the Silver Templars indicated that a cell of Alpha Legion traitors had dealt them a humiliating defeat. Thus, the Inquisitor decided to use the Pale Spear, the legendary weapon of a Primarch, as bait, dangling it before the shadows to lure the thorns out from the heart of the Imperium.
To be fair, Inquisitors of the Ordo Malleus were never known for subtlety when a grand sche was available.
Under normal circumstances, Solomon Akurra and his Serpent's Teeth warband would have seized the spear-tip and reford the splintered Alpha Legion into the Ghost Legion. But in this reality, the Legion had been unified under the true, resurrected hand of the Daemon Primarch Ogon.
The Imperium remained blissfully unaware that the architect of the Silver Templars' massacre was none other than the returned twin-primarch himself.
"My Lord, the Warp storm has completely severed all outbound communications. We cannot request reinforcents!" an Astra Militarum officer reported to Inquisitor Hart.
The news only deepened Hart's irritation. His plan was elegant: secure the Pale Spear in this fortress and wait for the Alpha Legion to spring his trap. Instead, before the traitors even showed their faces, a tide of bipedal rat-monsters had erupted from the depths. The poorly managed under-hives had fallen almost instantly.
These vermin had seized the armories of the under-hive gangs, upgrading their primitive iron with Imperial-grade munitions. Fortunately, the planet's defenses were stout; both Planetary Defense Forces and the Astra Militarum were dug in, bolstered by a detachnt of thirty Silver Templars. These warriors held the mid-hives and pushed aggressively into the depths, maintaining a precarious stalemate against the Xenos.
The Inquisitor marked several points on a vellum map before commanding without looking up: "Send word to the Silver Templars' 9th Company imdiately. At their current distance, they can reach us within a month."
"At once, my Lord!"
As the officer departed, Hart gripped his chainsword and bolter. As an Inquisitor of the God-Emperor, he refused to hide in the rear; he intended to fulfill his duty in a baptism of Xenos filth.
…
Psyphos Sub-sector.
Shyzen Hive Wolrd.
Torrin Underhive of Shyzen was a labyrinthine district bordering millennia-old mining shafts and a sewage system that coiled like a nest of vipers. It was the heart of the rat-blight, yet it was also a vital logistics hub. Massive stockpiles of ammunition and materiel were housed here, making it a position the Imperium could not afford to abandon.
Kayzen Hart had deployed twelve PDF regints, three Astra Militarum regints, and the entirety of the Silver Templars' strength to hold this line.
The Inquisitor rode in a Chira armored transport, its heavy stubber barking as they maneuvered through the hive's complex architecture. The streets were littered with the mangled remains of humans and Skaven. These furred Xenos were loathso even in death, their corpses radiating a sense of craven greed.
Thump-thump-thump!
Solid-slug rounds impacted the Chira, fired from the "shanty-stacks"—wretched hovels built from scrap and refuse that had long since lost the right to be called buildings. Fortunately, these were primitive projectiles rather than warpstone-laced rounds, and they failed to penetrate the transport's hull.
A guardsman imdiately manned the heavy stubber, laying down a curtain of suppressive fire.
"Damnation! What is the Astra Militarum doing? Why are there still Xenos in these sectors?" Hart roared over the roar of the gun, questioning the Stormtrooper beside him.
"Apologies, my Lord, but these Xenos are like vermin. They are too adept at flight. The Guard cannot maintain control beyond the imdiate periter of our trenches," the Stormtrooper replied, trembling before the Inquisitor's gaze.
"I shall be reviewing the efficiency of your devotion to the Emperor very closely," the Inquisitor hissed.
They soon arrived at Torrin Underhive, which had been transford into a massive bastioned fortress. Fearing the Skaven's ability to appear from anywhere, the Silver Templars had forced the Guard to seal every sewer grate and ventilation duct. Aside from a single heavily contested corridor, the fortress was hertically sealed.
"Captain Paramas, your brothers from the 9th Company will arrive shortly," the Inquisitor said to the Captain of the Silver Templars' 5th Company. These scions of the Emperor had held against hundreds of tis their own number for weeks without rest, earning the Inquisitor's rare respect.
"The Emperor protects," Captain Paramas nodded. The Xenos were nurous but lacked individual discipline; they were manageable, though their unpredictability was a constant drain on morale.
As the siege ground on, the starport of Shyzen finally erupted in cheers. Powerful reinforcents had arrived: one hundred Astartes of the 9th Company and three regints of Imperial Guard, led by the Grand Oathkeeper, Lampros Hekaton.
"Soldiers, the Emperor is pleased with your tenacity." Hekaton's towering silhouette was as awe-inspiring as ever. Captain Paramas and Inquisitor Hart offered their salutes, hurrying to brief the newcor on the tactical nuances of the rat-war.
Hekaton listened, nodding solemnly as they walked toward the front lines. Behind the trenches, the Guard fired ceaselessly. Lasguns and Basilisks thundered without pause, aid at the "rat-tide" below, a black torrent of fur that seed inexhaustible, no matter how many thousands were reaped.
"Leave this to us, Captain Paramas," the noble Grand Oathkeeper Hekaton said, placing a heavy gauntlet on the Captain's pauldron.
"What? No, my Lord, we can still fight! We swore to protect this world for the Emperor!" the 5th Company Captain insisted.
But Inquisitor Hart sensed sothing, a discordance in the rhythm of the mont. He subtly stepped back, his hand drifting toward the bolt pistol at his hip.
"No... leave it to us, soldier." Hekaton turned. Before the bewildered Captain could react, Hekaton raised a bolter glowing with an eerie, green balefire and aid it directly at his head.
BOOM!
A Warp-tainted bolt vaporized the loyal Captain's head instantly. In the sa breath, the figure masquerading as Hekaton shimred, his form shifting back into a bald warrior clad in indigo-scaled power armor.
"ALPHA LEGION TRAITORS!" the Inquisitor roared, diving into a roll to bring his weapon to bear, but his hand was severed by a flashing blade before he could pull the trigger.
Simultaneously, the "Silver Templars" of the 9th Company shed their disguises, revealing their Alpha Legion heraldry. So possessed digitigrade legs and long, lashing tails like the Skaven; others bore twisted horns erupting from their helms.
Bolter fire erupted in a cacophony of betrayal.
The 5th Company Astartes were given no ti to react. A volley of warp-bolts ended their lives in a spray of ceramite and blood. Behind them, the "Imperial Guard" regints who had accompanied the traitors began a systematic massacre of the local garrison. Under the direct oversight of Ogon, the "impenetrable" defenses of Torrin collapsed in less than an hour.
"YES-YES! Ours-ours! It belongs to us!"
The Skaven sward upward, eager to pillage and slaughter, but they stopped dead at the sight of Ogon and his Legion. Initially, the rat-n cared little for "human-cans," but the bald giant standing at the center of the carnage suddenly began to warp. In a surge of Empyrean energy, he swelled into a ten-ter-tall Verminlord!
The fanaticism of the Skaven, which even heavy artillery could not suppress, was instantly extinguished by primal terror and religious awe.
"This place," Ogon declared, pointing to the blood-stained earth, "is ours."
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