+March of the Legions: XX Completions+

[Hyaenidae]

March of the Legions

Month 1 Completions: The XX Legion

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lwruJM1injo/Tw-e4E42bkI/AAAAAAAAADM/59gpw5x5Pe8/s1600/1325435430995.jpg

Please only leave the five pictures from your completion in the XX Legion Challenge, and the fluff for you characters. Any other comments or text will be deleted. Thank you.

[Hyaenidae]

Harrowmaster Dorian Fal stared out the viewscreen of his ship, his hands clasped behind his back, and a content smile upon his lips as he watched the world below die. Auderak Primus had been a system defiant, standing against the tide Horus had unleashed, and for that, it's sentence was death. Dorian and his cell had spent months slowly gutting the planets' defenses through sabotage and poisoning food and water supplies, before finally showing his Legion's hand and engaging in open conflict. The Solar Auxillia and the local PDF that remained were shaking from those poisons, starving to death, and barely capable of standing on their own two feet. It was only a matter of time before they folded, and Dorian could declare the mission a success and move on. Already, his mind was on the next target, his thoughts swimming with various clandestine angles that could strangle those who defied his Legion.

Hearing the bulkhead door of the bridge slide open, Dorian turned his head towards the visitor, assuming his second-in-command, Xethial, had arrived to inform him of completion of the Harrowing below. Instead, he was greeted by an individual he had not expected at all, nor welcomed. Clad in slate gray warplate instead of the blue-green of the Legion, the visitor's armour was marked with further symbols of lashed chains painted across sections of plate, his shoulder marked with two hound's heads, one black and one white. Everything about this 'guest', and the squad that filed in behind him, spoke of calmly controlled violence, of frontal assaults, of point-blank firefights, of unsubtle engagements wreathed in bolt propellant. A crude hammer, in direct opposition of the dagger in the shadows that his Legion represented.

Legionary-Detatchment, Asymmetrical. Cadejo, the Legion's answer to total failure.

Made up of XX Legion warriors drawn from within the organization who scored high in combat operations and independent thought, but posted lower scores in manipulative confidential encounters, the Cadejo were specialized Headhunters who were called upon to break those who writhed loose of the Legion's coils, when all other options had failed. The bulk of the Alpha Legion considered such an assignment as an insult, the LD-A’s mission statement too unsubtle for XX Legion standards, but Dorian heard rumour that the operators within the detachment quietly reveled in their ‘black sheep’ status amongst their brothers. This alienated pride, and sense of singular purpose, made the LD-A one of the most dedicated specialized units in the Legion arsenal, though Dorian thought of them as a tool too inflexible to be treated with anything other than cool disdain. Other, darker, rumours surrounded the Cell; that they were also called upon to cleanse Legion strike teams that had gone too far in pursuing their tasks and had spilled too much innocent blood. Whispers of Harrowmasters put down like rabid animals, and of defiant Cells simply disappearing into the void, long before even the civil war. It was even said that the Cadejo embraced individuality, reversing Legion surgeries to return their original faces, growing hair, and even crafting unique and ornate power daggers by hand, as a symbol of that independence, against Legion standing orders.

Such inflexibility disgusted Dorian to the core, and he placed no truth upon those rumours. The LD-A were disposable tools, just as much as any other operative in his Cell, and would be spent as such. As far as he was concerned, their deaths would benefit the Legion in the long term, as they were a stain to be removed in his eyes. Still, Dorian forced a pleasant smile upon his face as he welcomed the misfits. "Greetings, brothers. If you are here on mission, I'm afraid you are a little late. Enemy defenses below are collapsing as we speak, and there is nothing else to threaten us."

The Cadejo leading the squad stopped alongside the Harrowmaster, removing his modified Corvus helm and revealing a youthful face, blond-brown hair, and shockingly blue eyes set below a patrician brow. Dorian made a mental note to pass a message to higher command, seeing the truth of the rebellious independence of the Cadejo, silently convinced now that they had strayed too far. The operative looked down upon the world below, his gaze sweeping across the burning hives. “There is no foul, Harrowmaster Fal. We have simply been active for a long time, and require supplies before we shift warzones. We will be gone soon.” His voice was surprisingly soft for a Legionnaire, nearing a whisper.

The Cadejo continued to look upon the world below him, no emotion upon his face. “What was the final calculated enemy fatality count, sir?” Dorian returned his gaze to the viewscreen, again allowing a sense of satisfaction of a mission successfully completed soak in. “We are estimating a total depopulation nearing one point eight million. The last report from below left only the Arbites precinct intact and resisting, which should be silenced within the next half hour.” Dorian looked sideways at the outcast next to him, the confident smile still on his face. “We are ahead of schedule by nearly three weeks. If you are looking for failure, you will not find it here.”

The Cadejo did not rise to the bait, his face still written with indifference. “One point eight million men, women, and children, mostly defenseless. Indeed, this is a great day for our Legion. Banners will be raised to commemorate this victory.” Dorian, now suspicious, turned swiftly towards the Cadejo, a reprimand on his lips.

He turned right into the maw of a bolt pistol.

The Cadejo shook his head sadly as Dorian's face reddened with outrage. “It's a shame that you forgot what true loyalty means, traitor.”

Muzzle flash. A split second feeling of impact, of crushing force piercing Harrowmaster Dorian Fel's skull, just below his right eye. Then, nothingness.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Senior Operative Tarquin, LD-A 517, Cadejo, swept his smoking bolt pistol upon the ship's helmsman, even as the sound of ten seeker bolters behind him roared, punching specialized Banestrike rounds through the warplate of the Harrowmaster's headquarter squad, murdering them all before their headless senior officer had even struck the deck. The helmsman's face was pale with shock, eyes wide. Tarquin smiled at him, without malice. “If you could be so kind, it would be appreciated if you lowered the shields. We have friends coming aboard, and I'd hate for them to feel unwelcome.” The mortal nodded anxiously, hurrying to comply. Tarquin looked to his junior Team Leader, Jerimiah, as the younger warrior reloaded his bolter.

“Jer, hold the bridge with Second Team and ensure nobody does anything suicidal. I'm going to head down to engineering and welcome our cousins. First, you're on me.” Jeremiah nodded his crow helm, cutting orders for defensive positions to Second, as First rallied around Tarquin. With bolters reloaded and power daggers activated, Tarquin and his demi-squad began the long drive towards the enginarium. As they left the bridge, the melody of rapid bolter fire could be heard ringing down the corridors like a song of death, his brother Cadejos killing anything that resisted, as the faint sounds of boarding torpedoes tearing into the hull acting as a backdrop to the symphony.

Less than five minutes later, Tarquin came across the first of his cousins as they were finishing off a XX Legion squad that had gotten pinned within the bare deck of a dueling chamber. Legionaires in warplate the color of a rich blue and greens were scattered across the deck, their plate shattered and split, blood pooling around their broken bodies. Savage warriors in bone white, trimmed in rich enamled crimson, stalked around the arming chamber, finishing off survivors. Those that went without helms displayed weathered faces like tanned leather, carefully applied warpaint giving them a terrifying appearance. One, a mohicaned transhuman with feathers and bone-beads tied into the braid leading from the back of his head, slammed a short-handled axe into the skull of an Alpha Legionnaire who was attempting to crawl towards a bolter, ending the traitor's pathetic resistance. He looked up from his handiwork, and a friendly smile split his face. “Hau, Khola.” The barbaric warrior tore the tomahawk from his victim's head with a crunch. “Would you mind company? These Of'i will not be bothering us again.”

Tarquin returned the smile to his honour-cousin of the Brotherhood of the Fox, the White Scar and his brethren gathering around in a loose pack. “Of course, friend. Our other guests should be here soon, and I would like to show them around our new ship.” The Scar laughed, and unsheathed his dao to compliment his tomahawk, the elegantly curved blade and Chogorian inscriptions at odds with the fur-wrapped hilt and feathers that hung from it's pommel. Together, the Cadejo and the White Scars set off at a high pace, the whooping battle cries of the Fox Brotherhood preceding them.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Enginarium resembled a slaughterhouse by the time the Cadejo demi-squad and the V Legion arrived. More of Tarquin's cell-brothers held held the above catwalks, and were pouring anti-armour rounds into their former kin, pinning the Alpha Legionnaires in place. Storming towards them were the other 'guests' Tarquin had mentioned, giants amongst giants, clad in Tartaros terminator armour. Their warplate was a rich amaranthine, with sections of their armour enameled like mother of pearl, all trimmed with Terran gold, made from the melted-down riches of tyrants slain and kings dethroned. Mighty Palatine Aquillas marked their chests and shoulders, and each carried artificer crafted power axes and cherished Phoenix Spears laced with platinum and priceless jewels.

Leading these noble and honourable transhumans was a living legend, a warrior-king clad in plate that was entirely pearl, except his right arm, which still retained the royal purple of the Legion. Lieutenant Commander Atellus, 1^st Company, IV Millennial, III Legion. Delegate of Old Earth, bearer of the Palatine Banner, the Knight of Unification. Tarquin always felt his breath taken away by the grace and glory of his every sword stroke, his hardened and proud gaze that seared one's very heart. Even as he watched, the last Alpha Legion defender was laid low by Atellus, a calculated and perfect strike slitting the Legionnaire from shoulder to hip, cutting clean through his blackened blade as if the power weapon had been crafted from paper. Tarquin nodded to the old III Legion Swordmaster as he approached the broken body at his feet, the White Scar at his side. All three warriors looked upon the bleeding and dying wretch, Tarquin noting the rank markings and nameplate carved with the brand 'Xethial'. The second in command of the targeted cell.

The Legionnaire who called himself Xethial turned his MK IV helm to his executioners standing over him, his voice snarling though the vox speakers and the blood in his throat. “What.... what have you.... done? This is the Primarch's work, deserter. You... have no idea of.... his plans...”

Tarquin cut him off, anger cutting into his youthful face. “I do not care what the Primarch thinks he's doing. I've seen the horror of the Istvaan system, and have heard enough of the terror you have commited in Horus's name. This is treason against the Imperium and the Emperor, pure and simple, and it will not stand. No more lies, no more deviancy. The Hydra has grown too many heads, each too convoluted to preserve the other. Our hubris has come home to devour us, and I and my cousins will hunt you all down, cell by cell, until this betrayal is washed away with your blood. Die in failure, traitor”

All three warriors standing over Xethial raised their weapons and thrust downward at the same time, determination written upon their faces.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Senior Operative Tarquin, LD-A 517, Cadejo, Ghost Legion

[KBA]

http://s28.postimg.org/n0o4mj00d/XX1.jpg

http://s28.postimg.org/un5op5m8d/XX2.jpg

http://s28.postimg.org/4qc0cjikt/XX3.jpg

http://s28.postimg.org/ojo458vyl/XX4.jpg

http://s28.postimg.org/ah26q9qkt/XX5.jpg

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 

 

Light’s Disk, the planet’s third, and biggest, moon shone bright in the night’s sky, illuminating the battlefield with light not of its own. Reflecting the system’s starlight into a pale radiance, as if casting some ancient cantrip, it enveloped everything from roaring tanks to the silent dead in steely mist. He looked upon the moon then, it’s haunting glow revealing his warplate from a thousand darknesses, futilely, as no one within three hundred paces would have connected brainstems to receive ocular witness. Where the rays would not go, however, were into the dwellings of his helm’s brow – recessed twin black holes eating the light, refusing to cough up any sort of reflection. His helmed head hung down; a predator unafraid, bored almost. He rose from a knelt position, the plume of his rank like feathers of a headdress from ancient Terra. Scanning the sky slowly, his head darted west.

A comet in the sky at first glance. A second glance magnified and enhanced by onboard systems a hundred fold revealed the truth: a lone Raven seemingly lost from its flight. A Moritat? Disappointment as the onboard systems did their telescopic magic more over. A messenger maybe? The XX Legion’s perfectly laid counter-measures would have silenced any sort of long-range communication. Before the thought had fully registered, his mag-locked bolt rifle was disengaged from his power plant, slung around his waist and into his hands, forearms launching towards shoulders, locking, with his finger a flurry of motion. Three shots rang through the night’s mist sounding as one.

 

Two hits. Lower thigh. The wind took the blame without much of a grimace given: a lone bolt had struck, and ruptured, the Raven’s flight pack’s fuel line. Waning downwards toward a pile of broken ruin, the comet in the sky grounded with harsh impact. Auspex in one hand, the device already feeding him a range of intel, he drew his power dagger in the other. A low haze of green light joined that of Light’s Disk, running hot off the edge of the blade. It was time to hunt.

[Slips]

Depicted here is Revered Bro-!^^^!@(%%$^^@**(( ++Error; Partial Data Corruption++ at the battle of [Redacted] between Forces of the Alpha Legion and the Mechanicum with Heavy Auxilia Support. Where he engaged in Zone Mortalis actions with this legions famed Seeker and Headhunter Cadres. As such, he eschewed any form of long ranged weaponry and opted for more Flamer and Graviton based weapons installed within his Sarcophagus' arms as well as requisitioning a Cyclone Missile Launcher armed with Frag Missiles.

 

Before his entombing within the mighty Contemptor Pattern Dradnough Chassis, Brother %##@%*&^^$@ , had served within his legion as Veteran Sergeant within one of their Headhunter Squads before being inducted into the Effrit Stealth Squad under the command of [Error 404] where, after three decades of service, he fell in the line of duty during a protracted siege with an as-of-yet unknown Xenos Species.

 

He was recovered, after fifteen days, from under one of the Xenos' Walkers, Broken but alive, some wounds the clear indication of Melta-inflicted Damage - such as the total obliteration of an entire leg and sections of the lower abdomen as well as the fusing of Flesh and Ceramite around the aforementioned injuries.

 

There are conflicting sightings that place Revered Brother +++ERROR; FILE DELETED BY SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR+++ in War Zones where two  disparate Alpha Legion Forces were found to have come into conflict with one another.

 

Though not depicted here, later sightings seem to indicate the replacement of any Alpha Iconography with Omegas upon his Chassis.

 

[Millicant]

[Kizzdougs]

XX^th Legion Head Hunter

 

Unidentified Veteran Legionary

Squad Alpharius

Unidentified Chapter

Isstvan V Dropsite Massacre

ca. 566006.M31

 

http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l522/kizzdougs/DSCN3210_zpsea04a50c.jpg

 

This unnamed legionary is depicted wearing a modified suit of MkIV Maximus armour. The Hellenic Delta icon that appears on the warriors armour in several places harks back to the lost cultures and myths of ancient Terra. The exact significance of the Delta is not known outside of the Legion but most scholars agree that it is most likely related to Company or Chapter designation. Since the legion’s betrayal at Isstvan V some Imperial scholars have attempted to link the use of this script and its mythological significance to occult and proscribed beliefs and practises within the Legion. Some have even suggested Lodge affiliation. There is currently no concrete evidence to support these claims and the legion’s use of the script since its inception would suggest otherwise. The horizontal strip on the warrior’s helm is commonly used to designate the veteran warriors of the XX^th.

 

http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l522/kizzdougs/DSCN3215_zps5a44046e.jpg

 

The Alpha-Omega icon, as worn by this unknown legionary, is considered by some Imperial scholars as an indicator of veteran status within the XX^th Legion. While it is true that this particular icon predates the Legion’s unification with its Primarch, the apparent lack of a standardised making system across the Legion as a whole, challenges the veracity of these claims. The stylised chain-link pattern adorning the armour of many XX^th Legion warriors is of unknown significance. Some believe that the chains are representative of the bonds of brotherhood within individual squads or even at the company level. Others claim that they are symbols of the unity of purpose of the Legion as a whole. Variations upon the standard design are believed to denote rank.

 

http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l522/kizzdougs/DSCN3213_zpsc01cb5e1.jpg

 

The warrior is depicted armed with a heavily modified Tigris pattern boltgun. The boltgun has been fitted with a non-standard optic enhancer and suppressor. This level of personalisation and modification is typical of many of the weapons used by the XX^th and in particular members of the Legion’s vaunted Seeker Squads. Such weapons are often armed with a variety of specialist ammunition types. The most common of these variants include Scorpios, Kraken and Tempest bolt shells. As well as these more common types, the specialist units of the Alpha Legion, at the time of the Dropsite Massacre, had access to the devastating Banestrikesubtype. Imperial scholars claim that the Alpha Legion prior to the Heresy developed Banestrike rounds in secret for the express purpose of defeating Astartes power armour. If true, the perfidy of the XXth Legion might be greater than previously acknowledged.

 

http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l522/kizzdougs/DSCN3214_zps05a9e41b.jpg

 

This warrior is equipped with a long-range Nuncio-vox unit. This allows the Legionary and his squad to rapidly coordinate with wider Legion movements while operating at extreme range, often deep behind enemy lines. This capability is essential to the kind of asymmetrical operations commonly exhibeted by the XX^th such as assassinations and covert asset degradation. A favoured tactic utilising this technology are the precise teleportation deployments of the Legion’s LernaeanTerminators in devastating decapitation strikes. 

 

Certain specialist units of the Alpha Legion are reported to utilise combat blades enhance with compact power fields. This non-standard armament affords a legionary a significant advantage over a conventionally armed opponent. Battlefield reports from the Dropesite Massacre and the subsequent running conflicts across the wastes of Isstvan V are testament to the effectiveness and utility of these powered blades. 

 

 

http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l522/kizzdougs/DSCN3212_zpsdb730e1f.jpg

[Grotsmasha]

++ Subject: Unidentified ++

++ Status: Traitor ++

++ Location: =]REDACTED[= ++

++ Time-stamp: =]REDACTED[= ++

++ Helm Audio recording recovered: =]REDACTED[= ++

"I have killed Eldar and their Dark Kin, I have waged war upon Ork-kind, I have slain too many species and razed to many civilisations to the ground to recall. Today though, today is different, I face one of the deadliest foes of the galaxy, and the galaxy will remember this day for eternity. Yesterday they believed us allies, yesterday they believed us brothers. Today we become something else, today they will label us Traitor. Today I will slay my once-brothers, I do it in the name of humanity, though they will never know it. For the Emperor."

- Unknown Legionnaire

XXth Legion Astartes

[SalvationOfReason]

We are Legion

Legion rank designate, Commander.
Name designate, Cobran.
Company designate, unknown (several aliases known to be in use, including  the 11th Recon Unit, the Iron Star Chapter, and a terrorist cell known only to local populace as 'Kobra,' among others)
Several engagements of note, including Istvaan V, where his unit successfully ambushed the Raven Guard vanguard and infiltrated into their ranks. 

Pic Caps shown here from Drop Site Massacre, recovered from downed servo-drones.

 

 

 

Cobran sighed. Another day wasted, another meaningless task completed. He longed for a challenge, a mission fit for one of his skill and stature. Looking around, squad mates setting up a redoubt, to await them in case they needed to come back to this desolate place. He sighed again.
"Commander," his second voxed. He could never remember their names. "New orders, The Pale requests us to redeploy to the front lines after our mission here is complete. He said it was time for a test run. Your orders?"
The Pale. A new deployment. Test run? Perhaps.... No, he couldn't mean....The Dominator?
With a smile, Cobran replied "Signal the Sampi, we leave once the last squad is onboard." 
​Maybe we'll have a challenge after all....

[GhostMalone]

http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/20141202_182127_zpsqrxrd7bb.jpg

http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/20141202_182204_zpsa7cm4cqp.jpg

http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/20141202_182152_zpsuqv6gs4b.jpg

http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/20141202_182145_zpsa6wi5xle.jpg

http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/20141202_182137_zpsodgvbbju.jpg

 

 

 

We are not the subtle blade, we are not the shadow in the dark.

 

We are the hydra most feared of all the legions, we strike at will and we destroy with unity and purpose.

 

As one head falls another replaces it.

 

 

Within the archives of the sanctum imperalis they're are scant records of the legiones astrates of the XXth legion.

but the following pictures file contains a Legionary known to be part of the Devils brigade.

[GrandMagnus]

XX LEGION, ALPHA LEGION.

 

Sergeant "Alpharius- Alpha".

Seeker kill-team.

Unknown Company.

Unknown Chapter.

 

"I am Alpharius. I am Legion"

 

Little is known of this astartes marine, except for his rank and the code name "Alpharius-Alpha" used by the sergeant. Some believe the combination of "Alpharius" and "Alpha" is perhabs a designation within a specialist circle of the XX legion, using the greco alphabet as personal code names. He is believed to be an assasination operative, specilized in infiltrating warzones and eliminating enemy HQ.

 

Sergeant "Alpha" is depicted here wearing a modified MKIV "stealth" suit of unknown origin with camelioline camouflage cover. He is seen here equiped with a tigrus patter bolt pistol, a combat knife, a modified bolter of unknown mark, a radar-tracker and a locater beacon. The white stripe on his helmet is believed to be some sort of rank indicator. His left knee pad is coloured in legion heraldry and carries the symbol "Alpha", hence the use of this letter for his code designation.

 

http://i1056.photobucket.com/albums/t373/Philip_Breusch_Magnussen/2014-11-30210513_zpsa5226764.jpg

 

+++ Only known image captured of sergeant "Alpha", taken by surveillance cameras during the scouring of Ganus V. +++

 

http://i1056.photobucket.com/albums/t373/Philip_Breusch_Magnussen/2014-11-30210630_zps5dbad1c0.jpg

http://i1056.photobucket.com/albums/t373/Philip_Breusch_Magnussen/2014-11-30210740_zps283d94f4.jpg

http://i1056.photobucket.com/albums/t373/Philip_Breusch_Magnussen/2014-11-30210639_zps55b7441e.jpg

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

He ran. He had not ran so fast in his life. For 27 years, Gregoris Althur had been the lord governor of Qelea, ever since his Imperial fleet had found the planet and added it to the Emperors domain. For 27 years he had been the most powerfull and respected man in his realm and his subjects had bowed to him, none daring to opose him. And yet now he ran.

 

He hurried down the dark alley, pasing by statues of himself, ancient people forgotten from the pages of history and symbols of the Imperiums might. Finally, he reached the Gates of Triumph, a giant building of white stone with a golden Eagle carved into it, and kept running into the burning streets. He thought to himself he would be able to loose the assassins in the city alleys, amongat the smoke and fire. These nameless assassins who had come from the shadows and mercilessly killed his body guard but had failed to kill him. Or perhabs that was not their intention.

 

He stopped, turned left into a small alley and hid behind a column. He had felt like he was being watched ever since they first appeared. He was a nervous wreck, trembling with fear, barely able to concentrate, his breath hissing in and out of his lungs after the immens physical stress and the adrenaline. He took a deep breath and thought to himself that finally, FINALLY, he had lost those assassins. A smug grin appeared on his face. Finally...

 

His last thought was interrupted as a mass-reactive shell exploded a meter above his head, carving deeply into the stone and covering him in dust and shrapnel. He turned and looked down the alley. All he could see was a figure blending into its surroundings, as if it was there and not there at the same time. And its eyes. To burning red eyes that stared at him, burning into his mind. He pulled his pistol aiming at the figure, but in three long steps it had grabbed his arm and broken his wrist in one quick movement. It released his hand and grabbed him around his neck, lifting him from the ground, looking straight at him. Gregoris, panting and coughing, felt small droplets of blood leaving his lips as he spoke: "Who... What... are... You?..."

 

"I am Alpharius. I am legion.". There was a loud crack as the space marine twisted his wrist and broke Gregoris neck. After 27 years thinking he was immortal, Gregoris Althur finally succumbed to the destiny of all men: Death.

 

The marine recorded the death of the Lord Gobernor as proof. As he walked away, blending into the shadows once again he opened a vox link to his commanding officers: "Alpha here. The traitor is dead." 

 

EDIT: I just realised some of the changes I had done (mostly fixing grammatical errors) to the text before posting it originally had not been fixed. So Ive fixed them now.

[Atia]

Hekatos Delphat

Presumed Chief Librarian of the Alpha Legion, Master of the Chrythsaor, the Trimorphe

 

"There are two roads, most distant from each other: the one leading to the honorable house of freedom, the other the house of slavery, which mortals must shun. It is possible to travel the one through manliness and lovely accord; so lead your people to this path. The other they reach through hateful strife and cowardly destruction; so shun it most of all."

- oracular statement of Hekatos Delphat [uncertain source]

 

As with many of his mysterious brethren, little to nothing can be said for certain about the Alpha Legion Chief Librarian Hekatos Delphat (whose name means  the Holder of the Keys or  the Prophet of the threeformed Truth in old Terran dialects). The best pictorial reference to him is available thanks to the Blood Angels Remembrancer Sahra Johnson, who was present at the Council of Nikaea, where Delphat is recorded as part of the Librarians who spoke for Magnus case.  

 

Delphat seems to appear both during the Isstvan V massacre and the first battle of Paramar, as sensorium core data ex-loaded from the armour of both Salamanders and loyal Iron Warriors Legionaries suggest. Wheter or not this "Delphat" is the same Marine who was part of the Nikaea Council, or a different Librarian, remains unclear.

 

http://www.fotos-hochladen.net/uploads/alphalegionfr3mjkeshcvt58.jpg

 

http://img5.fotos-hochladen.net/uploads/alphalegioncoj3bky9pi0h.jpg

 

http://img5.fotos-hochladen.net/uploads/alphalegionba275tydikfb.jpg

 

Battlefield analysis of this Corvus-Alpha armour shows it in fact to be a unique variant of the Mark VI, likely developed seperately from an early prototype . This suggests that the Alpha Legion may have acquired incomplete schematics by covert means early in the project's life and chosen to develop it on their own without recourse to the Mechanicum. This particular suit was modified with an inbuild psychic hood, which indicates the Alpha Legions non-official disregards from the Edict of Nikaea even before the outbreak of the Heresy .... 

 

http://img5.fotos-hochladen.net/uploads/alphalegionsityxr6o7ki9.jpg

 

http://img5.fotos-hochladen.net/uploads/alphalegionvoct2vbnyq8f.jpg

[Castiel]

Front:

http://i1246.photobucket.com/albums/gg605/Castiel25/Mobile%20Uploads/IMG_20141130_184534_zps4dcef36d.jpg

Left Side:

http://i1246.photobucket.com/albums/gg605/Castiel25/Mobile%20Uploads/IMG_20141130_184544_zpsb10f5211.jpg

Back:

http://i1246.photobucket.com/albums/gg605/Castiel25/Mobile%20Uploads/IMG_20141130_184555_zps8af103e6.jpg

Right Side:

http://i1246.photobucket.com/albums/gg605/Castiel25/Mobile%20Uploads/IMG_20141130_184602_zps959f3d1c.jpg

Top down:

http://i1246.photobucket.com/albums/gg605/Castiel25/Mobile%20Uploads/IMG_20141130_184618_zps9542f5f6.jpg

 

Captain Nesh of Ambush Cadre Sigma watched the first enemy vehicle swing into view through his scope, the hulls of the armoured vehicle painted in a stark green. He glanced down at the auspex in his hand, confirming the designation of the tanks from their engine heat source. A Predator, 3 Rhino APCs and a Land Raider Proteus. The Predator leading the convoy panned its turret carefully over the surrounding terrain as it approached, as the first Rhino hove into view. Using hand signals, he relayed the information and orders of attack to the rest of his force, ordering his contingent to prepare for battle.

 

At his command was a force of the XX Legion Astartes, the Alpha Legion. They had lain in wait, dug in and ready for the past two days for their target to arrive. Vigilator-Lieutenant Delsus and an accompanying Headhunter Kill Team armed with the new Banestrike ammunition were carefully hidden along the kill-box area, swathed in chameleoline and safe from enemy detection. 30 Tactical Marines, mounted in their own Rhino APCs waited for the attack to begin before their transports would burst from the bushes when their engines would roar to life and carry their deadly cargo to join the battle. A squad on jetbikes also awaited his command. But mightiest of all were the two Sicarian tanks lying hull down and heavily swathed in camo nets in strategic locations overlooking the fire zone. The first was the standard Sicarian patterm armed with the accelerator autocannon, a fearsome weapon that would make mincemeat of light vehicles and heavy infantry with ease. He second was Nesh's pride and joy, the mighty Sigma-Alpha Venator pattern Sicarian with the utterly destructive Neutron Beam Laser, which could turn any armoured opponent into scrap metal in an instant. The engines of these powerful machines were stilled and silent, with only the systems required for target acquisition and firing the guns active.

 

The order of battle was simple, but sure to be effective. As the Land Raider entered the kill-zone the Sigma-Alpha spoke. An eye-searingly bright pulse connected with the Predator leading the column, wrecking the tank as a huge hole appeared in its side, the metal and ceramite armour protecting the vehicle useless is it flashed away to nothing. The tank's crew were either vapourised instantly or cooked in their armour from the sudden flash of heat. To their enemies credit they reacted quickly, the Rhinos swiftly attempting to fan out while the Land Raider halted and sought for targets. However, the green-armoured warriors were not as quick as Alpharius' sons.

 

With a whine of gravitic repulsors the jetbikes swooped down, darting for the Land Raider, while the Sicarian opened up, its autocannon opening a series of craters down the side of a Rhino, before a shot pierced the armour and killed the driver. Another Rhino became bogged down in the soft dirt at the side of the road as it sought cover from the hail of incoming fire. Meanwhile the underslung heavy bolters on 2 of the jetbikes had proved ineffective against the armoured behemoth, however a well-placed shot from the bike carrying the multi-melta had succeeded in knocking out the engine of the machine, causing it to grind to a halt.

 

Realising that to remain in their transports would be their doom the green warriors bailed out, seeking to take cover behind the vehicles on the far side of the road. 30 Tactical marines and a squad of 5 Terminators in Tartaros pattern armour emerged from the transports. Several of the tactical marines fell as the jetbikes performed an attack run over the combat zone. At the appearance of the terminators the Sicarian switched targets, its accelerator autocannon flensing one in a storm of rounds. The gun on the Sigma-Alpha spoke again, this time striking the Land Raider. It inflicted critical damage, a fire taking hold in the damaged engine of the machine, before the fuel tanks exploded. Whickering shrapnel struck the Terminators, causing severe damage to several of the suits, but the stout armour held strong against the storm. Unnoticed by his brothers amidst the carnage one of the Terminators went down as a banestrike round found the lens of his helmet, killing him instantly.

 

The three Alpha Legion Rhinos burst from the bushes, skidding to a halt in a protective formation as the ramps slammed down, the marines on board quickly disembarked and took up positions, engaging their opponents in a brutal short ranged fire fight. Suddenly, the opposing marines sheltering behind their damaged and destroyed vehicles began to fall as shots from the carefully hidden Headhunters began to take their toll on the enemy lines. As their opponents reeled in confusion the XXth legion tactical squads took advantage of their inattention, swarming out from behind their cover to engage the remaining enemy in close quarters. Seeing what was happening the Terminators sought to move to help their brethren, but pounding fire from the Sicarian and jetbikes impeded their advance, and they could only watch helplessly as their outnumbered brothers were cut down.

 

The Alpha Legion forces quickly realigned, closing the ground on the three remaining Terminators. Weight of fire took its toll on the heavily armoured warriors, two of them falling as a hail of mass reactive bolter fire shredded their armour, but not before their own combi-bolters had claimed several Alpha Legion lives in return.

 

The final warrior standing was marked out as a commander of some note by the red comb on his helmet. Alone and outnumbered he fought on, his power fist claiming several more lives before he was finally disabled by multiple knife blows to weakened joints and cracks in his armour, rendering his limbs useless as he toppled to the ground with a roar of indignant rage. Once the target was gagged and bound Lieutenant Delsus broke radio silence for the first time since the operation began.

 

“Sigma-Alpha, this is Sigma-Beta. The target is secured.”

 

“Confirmed, Sigma-Beta. Prepare to fall back to point Kappa-Gamma.” Captain Nesh replied. He was satisfied with the mission progress. 34 dead enemy marines and 5 enemy vehicles destroyed and an important command asset captured for interrogation, for the loss of 11 Alpha Legion. The bodies of the fallen XXth Legion were collected, and soon there would be no evidence that might suggest the Alpha Legion had been there at all.

[Der_H]

+++PICT/CAPTURE/5.495.006.M31+++

+++SEC-00827-EC-SC-OO+++

+++Ref: x:548,862 y:398275+++

+++IDENT: GDF FDP GG24+++

+++Forward Defence Post/Bastion Observation Camera+++

 

http://i1145.photobucket.com/albums/o501/henrycoll/March%20of%20the%20Legions/Custom_small.jpg

 

+++TEXT NOTE+++

+Astartes Identified+

+Legion: XX+

+Company: Unknown+

+Rank: Unknown+

+Name: Unknown+

+++

This unidentified Alpha Legion Astartes was sighted during the early days of the Battle for Grandia, a localised conflict several months after the atrocities at Isstvaan V. The identity of the warrior remains a mystery, and his fate is unknown.

 

http://i1145.photobucket.com/albums/o501/henrycoll/March%20of%20the%20Legions/Front_small.jpg

 

The markings that have been identified suggest veteran status, and his equipment could suggest that he was leading a head hunter squad, although there are no images of other legionaries recorded. The armour appears to be a heavily modified MkVI variant. Binding studs on the right greave may suggest repair, or may be related to ceremonial or decorative honours. The heavy IIIrd legion presence in the Grandia system has led some to believe that this legionary may have infiltrated that legion, where bonding studs were used as a mark of decoration. The MkVI helm appears standard, but the torso appears heavily modified with no surface markings, and extended protection to the chest and neck. This pattern, previously unidentified, may be a custom design by the user, or may represent a more extensive modification by this detachment. The modified Umbra Ferrox bolter with suppressor is seen stowed, and the inferno pistol in the legionary’s left hand implies that this warrior was close to his potential target.

 

http://i1145.photobucket.com/albums/o501/henrycoll/March%20of%20the%20Legions/Left_small.jpg

 

This trooper is the only Astartes captured on surveillance footage from The Grandia Forward Defence Post Bastion camera. The image was extracted from the surveillance footage after the outpost was found deserted, several hours after a loss of routine communications. No alarm had been sounded and no GDF troopers survived. It is speculated that this trooper may have been part of a flanking manoeuvre, and although no clear motive has ever been identified for the involvement of the XXth in the Grandia conflict, the outpost soon came under the control of the IIIrd legion, which subsequently used it as a staging area for further orbital landings.

 

http://i1145.photobucket.com/albums/o501/henrycoll/March%20of%20the%20Legions/Right_small.jpg

 

This warrior was subsequently seen in numerous other skirmishes in the sector, often on different planets, vessels and was even sighted behind the GDF lines. Several participants in the conflict claim to have wounded the warrior, however no evidence has been found to support this.

 

http://i1145.photobucket.com/albums/o501/henrycoll/March%20of%20the%20Legions/Back_small.jpg

[Memento Of Prospero]

In appearance, an unmarked legionnaire is poised to sabotage an installation garrisoned by Cell 453 on Tarsonis-Teta.

But in reality what you are really seeing is...

ALPHARIUS!



Or quite possibly Omegon, or both.

[Adra'Melek]

++Images acquired on Jaruun V during extraction, 953.M30++

++Picts of Decurion-Prime Davit Haytar of the XXth Legion, wearing an suit of power armour of unknown origin. Visibly armed with a Phobos pattern bolter modified for flash suppression. The lack of squad and Legion markings was typical for these insertion teams++

 

Davit Haytar was extracted alongside a further 29 Alpha Legionaries when the 76th Expedition Fleet entered the system to find the capital world is disarray following a range of apparent terrorist assaults on key military, political and religious institutions.

 

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http://i963.photobucket.com/albums/ae112/hammer_of_thunor/d9e19c051a302af731c8f6220e4f1d8d.jpg

 

***

 

Timing is everything.

 

***

 

Decurion-Prime Haytar waited. He was good a waiting, finding the moment to strike. "Target Upsilon 1 approaching waymarker Gamma-Mu 1". "Target Mu 2 approaching waymarker Beta-Eta 1". Haytar began to move...the moment had come.

***

The Hermitage shook with the after effects of the explosion.  Within seconds the doors burst open, securitor Kravin entered, slamming and baring the doors. "We're under attack Magister!". "I can hear that, fool. Who is it? Yarlists? Sons of Jaruun?". "No. This feels different. I think it's the new group that has sprang up recently. Whoever it is we need to move you. Now. The Field Marshall is already on his way to the Bunker." 

 

***

 

"Waypoint Gamma-Mu 3 achieved"

 

***

 

Kravin cursed as he found his way blocked by fighting, some unidentified militia. Protocol stated he should take the alternative route to the Bunker rather than risk the fighting. Why did he feel like a puppet dancing on someone else's strings? "Form a wedge, advance and protect the Magister" "But Securitor..." "You have your orders", snarled Kravin as he primed his shotgun.

 

***

 

"Divergence. Waypoint Gamma-Mu 17 failed. Alternative Wayroute Gamma-Kappa initiated. Waypoint Gamma-Kappa 1 achieved"

 

***

 

Kravin wiped the gore from his visor, breathing heavily from the exhaustion. Someone was definitely trying to direct their movements. For what aim? He had once known a Trickster who would entertain the crowds, performing card tricks and other magika. The real trick wasn't determining the opposition's card but ensuring they pick the card you wanted them to.  Whoever was directing the opposition was an expert Trickster.

 

***

 

"Divergence. Waypoint Gamma-Kappa 4 failed. Alternative Wayroute Epsilon-Alpha initiated. Waypoint Epsilon-Alpha 1 achieved"

 

***

 

Haytar frowned. Perhaps he had underestimated his opposition. This may actual be interesting. "Kappa-3 to position 7-1-2. Kappa-7 to position 3-4-4.

 

***

 

"Divergence. Waypoint Epsilon-Alpha 11 failed. Alternative Wayroute Epsilon-Omega initiated. Waypoint Epsilon-Omega 1 achieved.

 

***

 

"Divergence"

 

***

 

"Divergence"

 

***

 

"Divergence"

 

***

 

Haytar snarled and he nearly tore the soldier in front of him in half with his power dagger. Who was doing this? How were they doing this? The mission was on the verge of breaking down. How could that happen against mortals?  The Marshall had been terminated easily. Why was this holy man still alive?

 

***

 

"Full Divergence. Waypoint Omega-Alpha 6 failed...Prime? What are your orders?"

"Initiate Hydra"

 

***

 

'We're nearly there', though Kravin. "Stay alert. We're at the final hurdle" "Securitor, reports of disturbances surrounding us." Lazlo looked at him. "They talk of metal giants." "Ignore it. Double time. You too Magister", he said turning to wearied man. "It's now or never".

Suddenly the doors behind them burst open. An instant later the wall caved in to their left. Through the openings burst 3 giants, moving too fast for their bulk. Kravin had time to notice that guns they raised looked foreign before they erupted with fire. Whatever they were they tore his men to pieces. Kravin lifted fired his shotgun until it ran dry but it hardly seemed to even scratch their armour. 

 

He reach for his father's blade. It was said to be an ancient weapon crafted with lost skill and capable of piercing any armour. He had just enough time to draw it before one of the giants reached him and punched him in the chest. It felt like he had been struck by a powered-hammer. His chest cavity had collapsed and he couldn't breath. He couldn't move. He could only watch as the rest of his men were cut down. Leaving the just the Magister to have his neck broken. Why had they waited? If they were capable of this, why had they not just done it from the beginning? They could have all be dead before they knew what was going on. "Why..." he gasped. "Why..."? The giant that had killed him walked over. That last thing he saw was a boot lifted above him before crashing down.

[Xin Ceithan]

Blurry pic-capture of an Unidentified Alpha Legionary, Urgall Depression, site of the socalled Dropsite Massacre.This is one of the rare captures of operatives believed to be of the so-called "Obsidian Coil" detachment in the field, possibly from later recovered loyalist remains. While the Obsidian Coil ostensibly excelled at nonlinear aggression operations, it`s forces were equipped and able to handle offensive operations at typical Legiones Astartes state of warfare. From the pict-capture, this operative employed what is believed to be a Shayatan pattern Moritat Configuration, using an advanced Armor Pattern. Note later crusade pattern weaponary modified for operations under conditions resulting from Destroyer type rad and alchem ordonance as well as later crusade "Phaeton" pattern jump pack.

- excerpt from "The many headed beast from the depths of history" by Inquisitor Arvaard Orvcrav, Excommunicate perditus, withheld by ruling of the Conclave of Intr`oralis, M37

[ephrael]

This image shows an unknown marine of the Alpha Legion shortly before the outbreak of civil war caused by the treachery of the Warmaster Horus.  He is equipped with a mix of what was at the time experimental armor pieces, possibly in a live field trial.  The Legionary is assumed to be a member of a tactical squad due to his armament of a standard issue Phobos pattern bolter with close combat attachment although in a Legion known for deception and subterfuge nothing is certain.  Note the absence of any Legion iconography or any markings of any kind.  This is possibly due to the Legion's rumored fluid organizational structure wherein individual marines may be assigned to a squad for a single mission and then redeployed once certain objectives are met.  It is also possible that the markings are yet to be applied pending review of the equipment itself.  Nothing can certain when it comes to the Alpha Legion.

http://i.imgur.com/0JdDj6Cl.jpghttp://i.imgur.com/svZfKqil.jpg?1

http://i.imgur.com/TvbGhn0l.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/jTGF90Ml.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/E9lklsul.jpg

[Zujara]

http://i1006.photobucket.com/albums/af182/Zujara/Legions/xxf_zps91bcf474.jpg

 

http://i1006.photobucket.com/albums/af182/Zujara/Legions/xxs1_zps86d62a61.jpg

 

http://i1006.photobucket.com/albums/af182/Zujara/Legions/xxb_zps32dbc158.jpg

 

http://i1006.photobucket.com/albums/af182/Zujara/Legions/xxs2_zps24b15e3f.jpg

 

http://i1006.photobucket.com/albums/af182/Zujara/Legions/xx_zpsb7972143.jpg

 

The saboteur known as Alpha's Blade was active throughout the Heresy. Reports always varied in their description of the armour he wore, and it is believed that he may have made constant alterations to his armour to repair or personalize it, or that there may be more than one agent operating under the name. Many loyalist vehicles that met suspicious ends were credited to him, and any loyalist able to track him was quickly crippled by his power knife before being executed by plasma pistol.

[apologist]

The Tongueless War
For the simple reason that no-one was there, no-one saw the Legion arrive. No-one saw the Legion leave, because by that point, there was no-one left alive.

 

+++

One of the many thousands of counter-Compliance actions undertaken by the Treacher-Legions during the Horus Heresy, the Mos Cumbra campaign – later to enter Inquisitiorial annals as the Tongueless War – saw the Alpha Legion attacking the isolated loyalist garrison on the dustbowl world of Mos Cumbra.

Information on the campaign, as with almost all Alpha Legion actions, is difficult to confirm as absolutely true or false. However, the following information provides the basic overview of the campaign with which supplicants for the rank of interrogator are presented before they are asked to analyse the events and provide their own conclusions.

Isolated since M31.969, the loyalist elements were likely completely unaware of the events unfolding in the rest of the galaxy. While the Alpha Legion's aims remain ambiguous, it seems likely that their intention was to advise the Imperial garrison that they were to be relieved, then overwhelm them as they redeployed.
Beyond acting as a stepping stone into the distant Clarion Stars, the dusty planet had little strategic value. Nevertheless, the short-lived campaign seems to have been one of dirty, scrappy and unsatisfactory action as the mercurial XXth deployed against isolated bands of warriors every bit as resourceful and adaptable as themselves.

Arriving with a full broadcast, the Alpha Legion's attempt to contact the garrison received no acknowledgement. As their infiltrated reconnaissance forces failed to find the garrison, the expedition was gradually forced to prevaricate, broadcasting increasingly less likely scenarios to explain their delayed landing, all of which fell on a seemingly empty vox. Before the delays could become unreasonably suspicious, the Alpha Legion were obliged to deploy. With Imperial banners a-flutter at their declared landing position, the Alpha Legionaries found no-one present to meet them.

Contact was likely made on the thirteenth day. An Alpha Legion recon patrol failed to report. Four were never seen again, and the remaining member was found bound and null-hooded two days later in the Meretrician desert, dozens of miles from their last known point of contact. On recovery, the Legionary was found to be thrall-tranced, incapable of action beyond reciting a coded message. Analysis using the embedded Imperial idents – old but valid – allowed the XXth to recover a simple, stark warning: Leave. Stay Away.

+++

 

Galled into action – or perhaps simply intrigued by a foe seemingly able to see through his ruse so completely – Lieutenant Commander Lasko ordered deployment on a war footing, with simple orders to engage and destroy any forces on the planet, regardless of their provenance.

Radiating from the Lin Plateau, where their colleague had been recovered, the Alpha Legion gradually met pockets of increasing resistance. Cloaked by squally dust-storms, Astartes groups ranging from in size from small units to full strike forces began to harry the Alpha Legion columns over the following month; each fading into the scything dust as the Alpha Legion turned to meet them.

The assailants remained unidentified until the fortieth night of sporadic fighting. A group was finally surrounded and brought to bay around an abandoned settlement, where they were forced to hole up. Slowly but surely, the Alpha Legion company identified and closed potential escape routes as the dawn drew closer, even as they fought off rescue attempts from other groups of the mysterious ambushers. Lasko had been surprised by the enemy's willingness to combat his forces – but was more concerned by their apparent ability to do so effectively. He had anticipated that the experiences of the Isstvan campaign would give his troops the edge, but reported casualties seemed to be remarkably even, especially taking into account the Alpha Legion's frustrating ability to recover seemingly confirmed kills.

 

At last, the Alpha Legion showed their consummate skill in their assault on the town, seemingly dropping resistance at two projected lines of retreat, then launching their assault. The unknown force broke for freedom – not through the most obviously weakened, but through the other. This was a fatal mistake. Lasko's double bluff ensured the swift defeat and capture as the Astartes broke through a weak first line before hitting a tangle of Legion killzones, where they were swiflty bracketed and destroyed. Inexplicably identified as VI and VIII Legion troops, Lasko was baffled. The Nostroman and Fenrisian warriors had famously had an antagonistic relationship throughout the Crusade. What had alloyed the groups together so effectively – and further, why were they holding so furiously against 'Imperial' relief?

+++

With the dead deserts broken only by sibilant vox hisses and wordless snarls, the so-called Tongueless war proved short. Hopelessly outnumbered by the Alpha Legion, and with no support, the enemy force was ground down in isolated pockets. Records of the war are understandably patchy; being pieced together from Alpha Legion propaganda and records of the Mos Cumbrans themselves. This is particularly so for the final events of the war. They are known to have involved a parley – in some accounts, a surrender – on the part of a Captain of the VIII Legion named Hestor Raal. Records of such a figure are not found in Imperial records, though a similar name elements are known in records of the Night Lords prior to the Heresy; and it is entirely possible that the notoriously poor communications of the VIIIth simply failed to report his enrollment into the legion.

If such a meeting did occur, and Lieutenant Commander Lasko attended personally, it seems possible only on one pretext – that the Alpha Legion were offered something they could not resist: information. A delegation of XXth Legion serfs was reported to have gathered at an otherwise unremarkable point in the Whispering Galleries three days prior to the end of the war, an action interpreted by most Inquisitorial staff as an Alpha Legion deployment to answer a call from the hitherto silent VIth-VIIIth legion force. The cloak of silence resumed immediately, and the delegation were returned apparently unharmed to their initial drop-point.

 

This must have been a point of concern for Lasko, as the drop point would have been studiously hidden – likely double-blindly. Faint encrypted broadcast records drawn from the Legion vessel identified as Epsilon – recovered in M38 as part of the scuttled space hulk The Cell of Revulsion – indicate that a second offer of parley was made. Inquisitorial reports suggest it is possible that Lieutenant Commander Lasko, astutely attended by a large group of veteran Legionaries, met with a tattered handful of survivors. The evidence is scanty: a single vid-capture shows a group of Astartes in dust-scoured ceramite, armed Legion serfs and thralls, and Terran Invigilators. The otherwise unremarkable image was initially assumed to show an Alpha Legion cell, but a single figure, mostly obscured by a Legionary, is shown in Mos Cumbran native attire.

 

 

 

Further analysis of the image reveals an identifiably Nostroman Astartes – the sclera of his eyes are black and wormed through with blue veins; the latter detail discounting photofilter lenses known to be in use by the XXth. Coupled with this image is a tantalising vox-record. Tenuously chrono-synced to the period, we hear a badly distorted voice broadcast on Astartes' battle-frequencies, apparently replying to an introduction.
'Is it so? I must conf-DISTORTED-ressing a Pr-DISTORTED-easure – even if he has suffered the humiliating diminiDISTORTED-o the rank of Lieutenant Comma-DISTORTED.' A mnemo-scan reveals a slip of black humour at this point; though the regret that becomes apparent in the speaker's voice is clear even to the non-psychic.
'DISTORTED-both know h-DISTORTED-rprised by the Throne's actions; though my Fenrisian collea-DISTORTED-in itself be sanctioned. Let my final repor-DISTORTED-ders were completed. The Clarion St-DISTORTED-ompliant.'

Whether these intriguing events are in fact related to the so-called Tongueless War is largely irrelevant in terms of when it came to an end; but it is recorded as one of the final campaigns in which the Night Lords fought as loyalists – however unknowingly. Such is the divisive effect of the Alpha Legion's modus operandi: the effects of treachery are often far-reaching; and ripples have a nasty habit of returning to disturb the initial actor...

[FuzzyBunny]

http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa166/FuzzuBunny/Sold%20Stuff/10849730_882590375115208_1548806482184707630_n_zps64cc80a9.jpg

 

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Praetor Taraxus the Sentinel:

 

Taraxus was the leader of a Grand Company whose main purpose was the gathering and keeping of hidden knowledge. Not for the main crusade was he meant. Very rarely did him, or his men, actually partake in those matters. For him was the duty of seeking out the hidden secrets. Nothing was to protected, or hidden, for him to find. Be it tomb, or vault, anything and everything was his duty to acquire if it was deemed needed.

[Captain Nameless]

Captain Gryne Elko, LIX company, XX legion "Alpha Legion"

The whole company had assembled in the primary launch bay of the Hajó. Two marines walked to the front; the first one drinking from a glass, the second following close behind with a sheathed sword. He handed the first marine a long, venom green blade that shone silver in the light. The marine took it, inspected and sheathed the sword, thanked his companion; and, having reached the front of the assembly, finally turned to address the marines, speaking in a hoarse voice.

“By now, most of have heard of the orders from our primarch, Alpharius. Warmaster Horus has rebelled against the Emperor leading several of his brothers with him. Alpharius has a plan, by which we will work with the traitors, and through an intricate web of disparate action, in secret, slowly foil Horus’ plans, eventually.”

He paused to take a drink from his glass.

“Now, I don’t know what anyone else took from the defeat at Hagriom II, but for better or for worse, this is the lesson that I learned; the more links in the chain, the more possibilities of breaking. I cannot in good conscience put into action a plan that is much too clever by half, even if it was created by our primarch.”

“Our Father wishes us to fight for the Emperor; well that is exactly what we will do. We will take the fight directly to the traitors, attack whatever weak spots we find, and hammer that spot with all the force at our disposal, then move on to the next spot while they’re still reeling.”

Another pause, another drink.

“So, men. Are you ready to hunt?”

[lokkorex]

Harrowmaster Armillus Dynat, Griefbringer, XXth Legion:

 

http://i1216.photobucket.com/albums/dd366/lokkorex/imagejpg1_zpsfa44d5d4.jpg

 

The above visual data was recovered from the body of Legionnary Zu'khan, of the Salamanders 6th Company, 23rd Chapter, on Isstvaan 5, during the Scouring by returning loyalist exploration elements.

 

http://i1216.photobucket.com/albums/dd366/lokkorex/imagejpg2_zps465bb970.jpg

 

The data, recovered from Zu'khan´s still intact bionic skull enhancements, shows the battle on Isstvaan 5, from the initial landing, the attack on the traitorous four legions, the assumed retreat, and the heinous betrayal, and subsequent trap, the four reinforcement legions sprung on the loyalists.

 

http://i1216.photobucket.com/albums/dd366/lokkorex/imagejpg4_zps548b342f.jpg

 

It's apparent from the recovered vid-log that the Night Lords and Alpha Legion struck in accordance, the Alpha Legion moving their ordnance and armour forward while the Salamanders were busy holding off the Night Lords in assault and close-ranged firefights, while the Night Lords retreated to regroup and strike from a different direction whenever the Alpha Legion opened fire with their heavy weapons.

 

http://i1216.photobucket.com/albums/dd366/lokkorex/imagejpg3_zpsb52807e9.jpg

 

 

In the end, an overwhelming assault was launched by both the Night Lords and Alpha Legion, with estimates from the recovered vid-log suggesting a ratio of 20:1 to the traitors.

 

http://i1216.photobucket.com/albums/dd366/lokkorex/imagejpg5_zps7c42dd4c.jpg

 

The last visual data recovered shows an Alpha Legion commander, identified with a 73,41 % possibility to be Harrowmaster Armillus Dynat, due to similarity in armament and stature, charging legionnary Zhu´khan, warhammer raised for a crushing blow to the midsection.

An autopsy was performed on legionnary Zhu'khan remains, showing his death was due to a crushing blow to the chest-cavity, consistent with a thunder hammer, splintering his ribcage, and pulping his lungs and hearts.

[Flint13]

++START OF RECORD++

Captured Operative (hereafter referred as Op)– “My name is Al Fareal, of the XX Legio Librarius, Serial C336613.”

++HEAVY STRIKING SOUND FROM IMPACT++
Interogator, 1st Legion: Belazarus Lucephon  (hereafter referred to as BL)– “That is not your name. Your genic codes and ident software have been wiped clean from your warplate’s data banks, your mind has been sterilized of any psykana markers, and your fingerprints have not existed in quite some time. All our convent could determine was the Biomanticus specialization within the Librarius of your own legion. What was your purpose here?”

Op - “My name is Al Fareal, of the XX Legio Librarius, Serial C336613.”

++ HEAVY STRIKING SOUND FROM IMPACT ++

BL – “That is not your name. You were found inside of a Fortress monastery, clad in First Legion war plate, in possession of an impressive amount of tactical and personal information which I can only assume had been lifted from the interior data vaults. What were you looking for, legionary?”

Op - “My name is Al Fareal, of the XX Legio Librarius, Serial C336613.”

++ HEAVY STRIKING SOUND FROM IMPACT ++

BL – “That is not your name. Over the past three weeks, there have been twenty-seven First legion Astartes found dead, ranging in rank from line trooper to demi-captain. So far, no weapons have been found. Is that because you have carefully covered your tracks, or because there were never any weapons to begin with?”

Op - “My name is Al Fareal, of the XX Legio Librarius, Serial C336613.”

++REPEATED STRIKING SOUNDS FROM MULTIPLE IMPACTS. HEAVY BREATHING.++

BL – “You worthless bastard, you have murdered almost thirty of your former brothers and stolen priceless information from our data stores. The cognomen priests have only recently intercepted and cut your off-world data link. The only reason you yet draw breath is because those in higher positions than I wish to see how much you have learned and why.

Your primarch may have fled from the light of the Imperium, but in this, we will have vengeance. We will rip the information we need from you. We are the legion of darkened secrets and hallowed truths. We are the FIRST, notthe last…

Op - “My name is Al Fareal, of the XX Legio Librarius, Serial C336613.”

++DROP IN AUDITORY INPUT DETECTED. ENHANCING.++

BL – “Tell me why. Why murder your brothers, why betray everything we were born and trained to do? Why undermine everything our fathers have built by throwing in with the Warmaster’s doomed venture?”

OP – “Very soon, I will slay you as I have slain thirty-five of your simpering kin on this forsaken rock. I did so for the same ambition I complete every action my Primarch commands...For the Emperor.”

++REPEATED STRIKING SOUNDS FROM MULTIPLE IMPACTS. HEAVY BREATHING.++
++RECORD END++

 

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[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

    Nimira was a distant speck in the far reaches of the Eastern Fringe discovered my a Mechanicm explorator fleet. Its orbital defenses displayed an understanding of force field and plasma technology that rivaled our own, so it was with great pleasure that the red robed envoys descended to the planet at the invitation of the mysterious leader of the Nimirans.

    All that is known is that within twenty-two minutes of landing, the envoys were slain and the orbital defenses turned against the explorator fleet, cutting them down with only a simple distress call signaling they were under attack being sent through the immaterium. Given its position and the status of its depleted natural resources and hydrogen saturated atmosphere, the task of bringing the Nimirans to account for their actions was given to the XX Legion to handle however they saw fit.


    Even seated and shackled, the Nimiran soldiers were wise to keep their guns at the ready. They had already seen several displays of what the Emperor's genegineered sons could do at extreme long range and in bloody close quarters. If not for their advanced stun weapons, he would never have been taken alive.

    "You are Exodus?" the short bald man asked. Over the millennia, their Low Gothic had evolved into a completely different language and the man's accent was thick with a guttural rolling to the R. He was dressed in the uniform of a ushania - the equivalent of a general in the Solar Auxilia. "Is that your name or a title?"

    "I am Exodus, of the XX Legion."

    "Legion," the man repeated, feeling the word out. "Like the ancient soldiers of old Roma? Are you surprised that we still have some of those stories in our history? Well, The Source shall be here soon, and he will enter your mind and discover all that you refuse to tell us. My men want to beat you for the officers and the government officials you've killed these past months, but I've seen what it's like when The Source beats a mind and assured them their fists and boots would be nothing in comparison. What do you think of that?"

    "I am Exodus, of the XX Legion."

    "Not anymore," a voice whispered nearly four kilometers away. In fact, the astartes currently in captivity had never come close to the marksmanship levels required to ascend to the Exodus program but still served his purpose. Four Terran years of preparation was about to come to fruition and the real Exodus agent was eager to finish this assignment and move on.

    The other astartes laying prone beside him was searching the skies with his spotting scope and signaled an affirmative that the target had been spotted. "Twenty kilometers from the outpost. Sixty seconds to contact."

    The Nimarans, rightly fearing reprisal for their actions, had gone to great lengths to prepare for an incursion by forces of the Emperor, seeding their land with sensors and automated plasma emplacements. Production of orbital defense weapons and naval vessels  was tripled, straining their already meager stockpiles of resources, but the attack fleet they expected never came. There was no contact at all, in fact; no declaration of war or revenge or even a diplomatic approach to seek a peaceful resolution. Silence was their only reply for three years until a naval admiral inspecting the improved defenses at an air base was torn in half by a sniper round from three kilometers away.

    A single whispership, using xenostech cloaking powerful enough to defeat their advanced sensors had landed a scant nine months after the destruction of the Mechanicum fleet, delivering the Exodus washout to gather information and turn Nimirans to their cause. He was surprised to discover that a single being calling itself The Source had been ruling the planet for just over twenty-one hundred years, his consciousness being transplanted from one cybernetically modified donor body to another approximately every twenty years. Over the centuries, he had insinuated himself into every aspect of the vast computer systems that had become essential to the running of their civilization.

    A second whispership had landed two months ago in an irradiated dumping ground where no sensors had been placed. Recreating the atmosphere and gravity of the Nimiran world on a rifle range aboard a space vessel could only take you so far and there was no substitute for practical experience. The trek inland had taken five weeks and once out of the dead lands, the two astartes spent seven days belly crawling through a wasteland of pulverized grey stone at a speed that kept the seismic and motion sensors from detecting them.

    Energy sensors were also in place, requiring that their power armor be stripped down to the bare essentials with a smaller power pack being specially created for the mission. The lower gravity of Nimira helped, but the armor still weighed heavily on them as if the power supply had been damaged. Even the optics that could be connected directly to the autosenses of their armor had to be scrapped because the energy signature it gave off could be detected. A primitive scope, just metal and glass with only the simplest of electronics, was also custom made.

    As the craft circled the outpost for a landing, Exodus put down his binoculars and removed the dust cover from his rifle, extended the bipod legs, and eased into his firing position. Beside him, his spotter reached over and plugged a slim cable into the side of the scope. Instantly, the low-power cogitator unit he had used to tap into the picter feeds inside the outpost and the MK IV helmet of the false Exodus assembled a composite of all the feeds and began to overlay a faint silhouette of bodies inside the outpost relative to where the scope was pointed. There was a delay of .34 seconds to the feed, but it was the best they had to work with. Outdoors, The Source was protected by layers of shields far too powerful for even his rifle to penetrate, but indoors, the shields were cut down dramatically.

    A team of elite bodyguards emerged from the landing craft before a towering form of black and gold stepped out to join them. Even from this distance, the power from the shields surrounding The Source appeared as visual distortions, like a heat haze. His procession moved with him as he entered the outpost and moved to the holding room.

    "So, you are the fury sent to me by your great Emperor," The Source said. His voice was so heavily modulated by the cybernetic body that it sounded more like a robot speaking. "I am disappointed."

    Through the scope, the form of The Source was pacing back and forth angrily. At this range and with the delay from the scope, it would be practically impossible to get a clean shot.

    "I don't care," the false Exodus said. "I am all that was required to deal with your pitiful excuse for a planet. Were you expecting an armada? You're nothing, and when you die, this planet dies with you!"

    Might be a washout, but he knows his job, Exodus thought as the form of The Source drew still... directly in front of the washout. Then he lashed out, hitting the washout so hard it knocked him clean off of his feet.

    The Source knelt beside him, taking his bloody chin in a modified hand. "You will soon realize the magnitude of underestimating me."

    The astartes laughed. "I am Exodus of the XX Legion, and this is for the Emperor."

    The real Exodus fired twice within the blink of an eye when the false Exodus spoke his name for the final time. The first round was a sabot, splitting off the outer shell as it left the barrel, leaving a hardened core of adamantite traveling close to two thousand meters per second. It easily penetrated the lightly armored wall of the outpost and slammed into the shield of The Source, where the xenos haywire tech embedded inside the bullet overloaded it. The bullet passed harmlessly between the left arm and the body of The Source.

    The second round, also an adamantine core sabot, passed clean through the outpost wall, The Source's head, the wall behind him, and continued into the ground for six meters before coming to a stop. It struck with enough force that The Source's head was all but atomized into a mist of blood, bone, and metal fragments. Shock waves from the impact pulped organs and shattered blood vessels in the armored chest cavity. The headless body fell backwards, blood and other dark fluids spilling out of what remained of the neck.

    "For the Emperor," Exodus said, then put the crosshairs over the head of his brother and fired.

 

 

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