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571st Company of the Imperial Fists Legion


TimmyMWD

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I've spent about nine months now putting together a Heresy era Imperial Fists force.  While I have a painting log up on Warseer, I thought this would be a good place to flesh out the fluff behind my forces and what they're doing.  The general fluff behind the 571st is that they are a rag tag company, built of survivors from various battles and formed up into a fighting unit tasked with defending a vital installation on Terra during the siege.  So with each installment of the story you're introduced to different elements of the company as it forms up.  The introduction will explain the arrival of the initial forces, which coincides with the first Imperial Fists I painted. 

 

The 571st Company of the Imperial Fists Legion

The Castellum

 

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[Note: I'll get a better picture that fits the fluff soon ... this is the best action shot I have :D]

 

 

++Introduction++

 

++Location: Geothermal Power Hub 47A.NE++

++Nord Europan Wastes++

++Time: Siege of Terra, Day 29++

 

“Additional contacts!”

 

The shout could barely be heard over the din of fire, even though it was broadcast into the headset of every officer and sergeant in the regiment.  All around the bunker entrance, members of the Terrawat Lancers unloaded every ounce of firepower they had into the onrushing traitors.  The outer defense lines were gone, their occupants annihilated in a savage whirlwind of chain axe and power sword.  The World Eaters made short work of those men brave enough to man the trenches in the face of their onslaught. 

 

Trenches were one thing, but a fortified bastion designed by Rogal Dorn himself was another.  The bulk of the facility was buried deep underground, the natural strength of meters of rock providing better protection than most things humans could construct.  There were few fire points that they could use to engage the besieging forces, but that also meant fewer points of entry for the enemy to break down.  And if there was one thing the Lancers did not want, it was for the World Eaters to find any way into the facility. 

 

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A hail of autocannon fire and missile barrages helped keep the heretical astartes pinned down.   As Colonel Lebed surveyed the situation from the one tower the fortress had, his Lieutenant leaned in to shout an inquiry, “Why don’t they just bombard us, sir?  They’ve won the void battle.”

 

Lebed shook his head dismissively, “the generator facilities are buried too far underground.  They might destroy these defenses, but they would also cut off outside access to the power hub under tons of rock and rubble.  It would be weeks before they would get in, and at that point this facility would be irrelevant.”

 

Rutskoy, the young lieutenant, had to put his reply on hold as a barrage of information came pouring into his headset.  “Sir, this wave is nearly double the size of the force we have pinned down on our perimeter.  I don’t think we can hold that many back.”

 

Sure enough, a fresh wave of Rhinos and Spartans emerged from the smoke that had enveloped the battlefield.  Many of the Rhinos fell in the never ending wave of anti-tank fire: some in fiery explosions, while others came to a halt as too many of their vital systems were ripped to shreds.  But for every Rhino that was halted, another advanced.  And behind those came three Spartans that were completely impervious to almost all of the weapons the Lancers could bring to bear.  Those World Eaters that had been pinned down got up from their positions, taking advantage of newly arrived transports attracting the focus of the weapons.  They advanced behind the vehicles until they were close enough to the cliff face and ramparts to close the gap with their superhuman speed.   Deep throated roars rang out as the first of the blood soaked World Eaters reached the outermost bunker.  Scaling the walls with freighting ease, they leapt over and into the bastion, hacking the men to pieces as their carapace armor offered little resistance.

 

Before the XII legion could consolidate their toehold on the fortress, the reinforced door that led deep into the subterranean bulk of the base swung open as an elite squad of Terrawat Lancer grenadiers poured out.  Each of them was armed with a graviton gun, and at such point blank range their aim was never in doubt.  The grenadiers sprinted forward over the crushed and mangled victims of the grav weaponry to the bastion walls.  Leaning over the edge, they raked volley after volley of devastating grav fire into the power armor-encase superhuman.  The first wave of Astartes to breach the last defenses had been pushed back, but barely.  The enemy APCs, including the Spartans, were still closing in and had yet to unleash the frothing berserkers inside.  Colonel Lebed knew that he had only bought his forces a small reprieve from being overrun, “Open the main barrier, deploy the armored reserves.  Sally forth and crush their advance.”

 

Lieutenant Rutskoy shook his head in disbelief, “The World Eaters have just begun to test our defenses.  We were ordered to hold out for at least two weeks, if you commit our reserves now we won’t last two hours.”

 

Angry at his ordered being questioned so quickly, Lebed grabbed the Lieutenant by his jacket and pointed at various spots in the battlefield, “If we don’t commit our reserves now we won’t last fifteen minutes.  We were one grav volley away from them controlling the lower bastion and planting melta charges on the blast door to gain entry.  No, Aleksander.  We commit the reserves now.  Surely you were not naïve enough to think that if they sent astartes here we could hold out.  Our best hope was that they would send traitor members of the Army against us.  I put the seventh and nineteenth companies to work this morning planting charges on all the access tunnels, and word just reached me that they are nearly done.  We only need to hold them off for another hour or so, and then we can cut off all access to the geothermal plant.  The Terrawatt Lancers will complete this last mission to the Emperor, even in death.”

 

There was a long pause.  Deep down, Lieutenant Rutskoy knew he would die defending this facility, but to hear it being discussed so openly by his commanding officer was not something he was prepared to deal with.  For a moment, there were only the ongoing sounds of gunfire and explosions to fill the awkward silence until …

 

“Aerial contacts! Drop Pods!”

 

Rutskoy and Lebed looked up at the bright lights of several drop pods firing their retrothrusters to slow their descent.  The drop pods crashed into the ground behind the advancing wave of World Eaters, and both officers prepared to issue new orders to counter the reinforcements until Colonel Lebed noticed something.  He pulled on Rutskoy’s shoulder to stop him from barking target priorities into the vox network.  Confused, Rutskoy looked out in the distance at the drop pods and realized why he was interrupted. 

 

The drop pods were yellow.

 

 

 

 

 

++Location: Bridge of the Resolute: Mars Class Battlecruiser++

++ High Orbit Above Terra++

++Time: Siege of Terra, Day 27++

 

 

Sejanus did not need to look at the holo-projection that filled the heart of the command deck to know that the situation was beyond dire.  The assembled astartes in the room, usually so stoic in the heat of battle, were starting to show signs of distress.  Frustration radiated off their furrowed brows, and the slightest hints of despair started to creep into their wide eyed expressions as they stared at the banks of monitors and holodisplays.  He had to shift out of his stare at the weapons readouts after a blinding flash of light poured through the starboard viewports: no doubt another ship lost in the barrage. 

 

The traitors had struck earlier than expected, and with far more firepower than anticipated.  Although the orbital defenses and naval forces assembled had held out for nearly a month so far, everyone knew that holding out was the best they could do.  Unless the other legions arrived, Horus’ victory in the void was inexorable.  Luna had gone dark several days ago, its impressive defenses pounded into oblivion.  Terra’s orbital defense platforms were now being systematically exterminated: any attempt by the assembled Imperial vessels to strike at the enemy formations and slow their assault had ended in disaster.  Sejanus estimated that they had lost over a third of the ships they had assembled to protect the cradle of humanity.

 

Off the prow of the ship, another brilliant ball of energy leapt forth into the darkness of the void.  The Resolute was in a relatively safe orbit, far from the focus of the enemy’s attacks, and was relegated to firing its nova cannon at enemy vessels from safe distance.  The anger he felt towards the traitors made him desperately want to take the ship in and unleash the full fury of her weapons, but he knew after seeing the results of the last several assaults this was a far more intelligent course of action.  For now.  At this rate, Horus’ forces would have mopped up the other forces and move on to the formation the Resolute was in by the end of the day.

 

As he pondered over how much longer this battle would last, he felt an armored hand rest on his shoulder pauldron.  “Sergeant Sejanus, Captain Myr wants you in the strategium.  We’re receiving new orders.”

 

Nodding in appreciation, the Imperial Fist turned towards the ranking human on the bridge, “Commander Mitrios, you have the deck until the briefing is concluded.”  He walked towards the rear of the bridge and his intended destination.  He had no idea what these new orders could be.  Every attack had been repulsed, and in defense they were being slowly consumed bit by bit.  Running was out of the question.  He had no idea what to expect when the doors slid open to the strategium. 

 

At the head of the large briefing table was Captain Myr in full battle plate, save for his helmet.  He nodded to acknowledge Sejanus’ entrance before pressing a command rune that dimmed the lights and activated a holodisplay.  “You all know the situation.  Within the past hour, Horus has broken through our line of orbital defenses at nine different locations.  Our father reports that their initial forces have made planetfall.  They’re losing thousands to the ground defenses, but we can all do the math.  It is only a matter of time before they have enough to take the main spaceports near the palace and begin landing the forces en masse.

“The ships still fighting have been given new orders.  Some are feigning retreat to begin hit and run attacks, others are concentrating their defense over vital installations to prepare more time for forces on the ground.  Others are preparing to strike out at the supply lines from Mars to try and slow the traitors’ efforts.”

 

The ship captain gestured to the next pict, clearly taken quickly judging by the haze and distortion.  “This is the outer entrance of Geothermal Hub 47A.NE.  It has been providing power to the some of the Palace’s defense facilities.  The last part of our father’s reconstruction of the palace was to internalize all power sources.

 

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"This is the last external source, but that is because it is a massive one.  It will be two weeks before its replacement is online inside the palace defenses.  All efforts were made to fortify the single exterior entrance.  It is built into the Carpyth Mountains, so orbital bombardment would merely cut off access and allow the power to continue to the palace uninterrupted.  The fortifications and reinforcements should hold, but if Horus discovers this weakness and commits a large number of forces to the fight, the consequences would be disastrous.”

 

 

++Location: Geothermal Power Hub 47A.NE++

++Nord Europan Wastes++

++Time: Siege of Terra, Day 29++

 

Explosive bolts fired, bringing the doors of the drop pod crashing to the ground.  Sejanus was already knew exactly where to move, the targeting data had come streaming into his battle helmet as the augmented scanner units on his force’s drop pods fed him the position and strength of the assaulting World Eaters host.  Quick gestures in battle sign were all he needed and his forces were on the move.  The World Eaters were so preoccupied with assaulting the base that for several seconds they failed to realize that the new arrivals were enemies.  It was all the time he needed.

 

From behind Sejanus, his squad members charged towards the nearest of the three Spartans.  One of them sprinted to the rear hull of the assault tank and activated the mag lock on a melta bomb.  His helm’s targeting display counted down until a crippling explosion opened a void in the rear of the vehicle.  Two brilliant blasts of melta fire from brothers Titus and Pulo tore an even larger hole in the tank, and the squad readied their bolters as they advanced and fired on the surviving members of the heretics inside.  Sejanus readied his power axe and charged into the flaming ruins of the Spartan.  Capitalizing on their disorientation from the explosions, the Sergeant charged towards the first World Eater and severed his head clean off.  Three lobotomized berzerkers blitzed towards him, chain axes swinging in the close confines.  Sejanus braced himself for the attack, but watched as precision bolter fire erased the momentum of their charge, forces the World Eaters down to their knees to scramble for cover before well placed rounds found weak spots in their armor and tore open fatal wounds.

 

Stepping out of the destroyed tank, Sejanus took a brief moment to assess the situation.  Eight drop pods had landed, each carrying a five-astartes squad.  The target priority was clear in the descent: nothing the Imperial Army had could stop the Spartans.  Thankfully, all of the squads carried heavy compliments of melta weapons and were able to make short work of the vehicles.  The traitor brethren, however, were not so easy to eliminate.  The humans defending the plant were a nuisance to them, but the thought of fighting fellow astartes reinvigorated the World Eaters.  They threw themselves at the Imperial Fists, no doubt surprised at how few had arrived. 

 

Sejanus knew that although their force was small, it was the precision strike the Army needed.  The Spartans were destroyed or immobilized, and as the World Eaters turned their attention to the newly arrived Imperial Fists, the Lancers were able to fire their full armaments unmolested.  Chimeras stormed out of the fortress and unloaded grenadier squads armed to the teeth with graviton weapons.  Clearly, Sejanus thought, the Terrawatt clans still maintained their access to the best weaponry as they had before Unification.  Caught under a hail of weapons fire from the fortress and an enveloping wall of Army transports and veteran men, the World Eaters attempted to kill as many Imperial Fists as they could.

 

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Colonel Lebed walked out of the fortress, many of his soldiers uncertain of what they should do.  Some nervously pointed their weapons at the Imperial Fists.  Lebed was unsure whether he should punish them or not.  Part of him did not blame them for their apprehension: rumors of the Alpha Legion’s skills of subterfuge had made their way back to Terra months ago.  How easy would it be for the traitors to take this facility of forces disguised as Imperial Fists were invited in with open arms?  The commanding officer surveyed the approaching force of Astartes.  “Only twenty of you?  Is that all Rogal Dorn could muster to help us defend this facility?”

 

Sejanus walked towards the human officer, impressed with his willingness to so brazenly question a Space Marine.  “There were thirty of us, Terrawatt.  Ten of my brothers died saving you.”

 

The sacrifice of ten astartes did not seem to have much of an influence on Lebed’s attitude, “We were told no astartes could be spared from the palace, and then all of the sudden you arrive in the midst of battle right at the key moment.”

 

Sejanus unclipped his helm, and mag-locked it to his Mark IV plate at his hip.  “I can assure you there is nothing convenient about our arrival,” he gestured up to the night sky at a capital ship burning in low orbit, “the fact that only thirty of us arrived should indicate to you the dire circumstances behind our arrival.”

 

Sensing that he had misjudged the situation, Lebed sought to make amends.  “I apologize, astartes.  I meant no ill will, just in these times …” He did not let himself finish that thought.  Everyone standing in front of the fortress gates knew what he meant.  “I am Colonel Antov Lebed, acting commander of the Terrawatt Lancers stationed here.  We thank you for your assistance.”

 

“And I yours, Colonel.”  Sejanus extended a formal salute.  “I am Sergeant Sejanus, formerly of the battlecruiser Resolute and this,” gesturing to the other Imperial Fists, “is what is left of the 571st Company of the Imperial Fists legion.  And we are here to defend this facility.”

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++Location: Imperial Palace++

++Time: Siege of Terra, Day 30++

 

Rogal Dorn had no time to handle a personnel update, so this task fell to Sigismund.  Even then, he only gave a fraction of his attention to the task, listening to the line officer’s update as he paced down the corridor.  The battle captain took no offense, the distant thuds of explosions made it very clear why the First Captain was in such a hurry.  “Survivors of the Resolute made planetfall at the facility.  Good.  I assume the army commander has willingly relinquished command?”

 

The battle captain nodded, “They have.  The Terrawatt Lancers are of the Old Hundred, their obedience to the legion was never in question.”

 

The lord of the Templars poured over a dataslate as he heard the report.  The latest estimates from the tech priests were that the new geothermal facility within the palace would be online in a little over seven days.  Sigismund cracked a rare grin: that was nearly a week ahead of schedule.  “And which company commander is at the hub?”

 

An image from a portable hololithic projector winked into existence as the two Imperial Fists continued their long walk down the corridor.  An image of one of their battle brothers, clad in Mark IV plate came into existence.  He wielded a power axe and bolt pistol, and bore a brilliant crest over his helmet.  The battle captain revealed his identity, “He is not a company commander.  Sergeant Sejanus, sir, of the 571st.  A small force recalled from only its second expedition.  He reports that he and twenty others are all that survived the destruction of their ship and their counter assault against the World Eaters.”

 

Sigismund paused for a moment and thought over the name and image, “I have never served with the 571st.  Why is his name familiar?”

 

The projector image shifted to a pict from a dank and dilapidated ship corridor, “Before the 571st Company was fully commissioned, they served alongside one of the Grand Companies that was sent to Ullanor to reinforce the Ultramarines and White Scars.”

 

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“I remember him.  He was the lone survivor of one of the initial ground strikes.  The only brother to remain standing when the second wave arrived,” Sigismund stared at the pict of Sejanus surrounded by Ork boyz in the Ullanor sector.  “If he managed those acts of valor at Ullanor, and was able to break five companies of World Eaters he has been a Sergeant far too long.  When we issue their orders and requisition supplies, make sure he is made acting Captain of the 571st.”

 

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The First Captain’s attention turned back towards his dataslate.  “Who fights with him?”

 

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p.s. Sorry - I didn't realize I took this pic before I put the weapons on the squad.  I'll fix that!

 

“Right now, only two tactical squads are deployed with him.  Their sergeants are capable, but none of them noteworthy.  They have performed at the level we would expect from the Seventh Legion.  Their squads are not ideally equipped, however.  Their weapons may have been beneficial for their initial assault, but their close range metalguns and bombs won’t do them much good in their duties defending a reinforced facility.” 

 

 

Sigismund nodded, “We will need to send more forces to them quickly.”  The slightest of his hand gestures opened up endless streams of data that no human would have time to comprehend.  The rate of data flow gradually slowed until the First Captain found a name to his liking, “Lieutenant Matthias’ forces are presently stationed in an unengaged part of the defenses.  Have him and his heavy support teams depart for the station immediately.”

 

His attaché was uneasy with the order, “Sir if we dispatch forces to the facility, wouldn’t that just make it an even more pronounced target for the enemy?  Even one tenth of a percent of their forces would crush forty marines, no matter how reinforced the facility is.”

 

“They already know.”  Sigismund keyed into the holoprojector and changed it to a reconnaissance map of Europa.   He did not need to point out the column of traitors slowly advancing towards the facility.  “The moment the World Eaters relayed that Imperial Fists had thwarted their attack, they knew it had more value than they perceived.  We can’t afford to divert any significant forces – that will attract the kind of attention you’re concerned about – but in their current state they will not survive this next attack.”

 

The two astartes looked out the window at the refueling cargo transports.  The converted craft were usually used to funnel supplies from orbiting ships down to ground bases, or from preliminary drop points to forward operating bases.  The Imperial Palace was so large that they were needed inside its defenses to resupply all forces properly.  Sigismund gestured to the pool of vehicles, “Have the servitors install some harnesses inside one of the cargo holds, and send them in one of those.  If they think we’ve simply resupplied the base and not reinforced it, it should prevent them from committing additional troops.” 

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Great stuff!

 

Definitely replace that first photo though, the Horus Heresy lads will have a fit if they see a Centurion warsuit anywhere near Heresy-era models!

 

Aww, I like TimmyMWD's take on Heresy-era Centurions. :)

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