Chapter 43: Chapter 43: Battle Deployment
Dukel's fleet approached Nalai Star's outer orbit, the battle below raging at a fever pitch.
The planet's surface was a nightmare of fire and corruption. The World Purification Plague Army had turned the poisoned populace into a grotesque horde of plague zombies, forcing them to serve as shambling, unthinking human shields on the front lines. Before the steel bulwarks of the Imperial defenders, the corpses of Astra Militarum and Chaos forces alike lay piled high—a grim testament to the unending carnage.
Among the beleaguered defenders was a commissar of the Astra Militarum. His body ached with the telltale signs of Nurgle's infection, yet he fought on, rallying his troops and stubbornly holding the flank. He forced himself to ignore the vile stench of decay and the loathsome visage of the infected, his former comrades now shambling horrors driven by the Ruinous Powers. Rage and nausea churned within him, but he pressed forward. To fall to Chaos, to become an abomination enslaved by the plague god, was a fate worse than death for any loyal servant of the Emperor.
His laspistol cracked as he put down a grotesque, laughing mockery of a soldier he had once called a brother. Lifeless eyes stared back at him, their soulless depths a cruel reminder that the noble spirits of the fallen were forever denied rest on the Golden Throne. The commissar steeled himself. There was no room for mercy—not here, not in this war.
Artillery and lasfire tore into the approaching waves of the infected, temporarily forcing them back. Yet despair gnawed at the defenders' hearts. Reinforcements had not arrived, and their enemies seemed endless. Familiar faces from their past lives now advanced as the walking dead, mocking their humanity. The weight of it dragged at their spirits, threatening to pull them into despair.
In orbit above, aboard the Soulfire, the flagship of Dukel's fleet, the scene was vastly different. Macro cannons and lance batteries roared, their fiery salvos ripping through the void. Chaos warships fell one by one, reduced to drifting wreckage under the onslaught of the Soulfire's cutting-edge weaponry. The Machine Spirit of the ship sang a hymn of destruction, its weapons breaching shields and shattering hulls with unerring precision.
The Chaos fleet had faced countless engagements with the outdated vessels of the Imperial Navy, often fighting them to a stalemate. But the Soulfire was no relic—it was a marvel of engineering, armed to the teeth with the Imperium's most advanced systems. Against such firepower, the forces of Chaos stood no chance.
Dukel stood on the bridge, illuminated by the bursts of fire from the macro cannons. His gaze was fixed on the void beyond, where explosions blossomed like flowers in the dark. It was a violent ballet of destruction, a deadly beauty he both admired and orchestrated.
"Your Highness," came the voice of Efilar, the living saint who served as Dukel's advisor and bodyguard. She stepped forward, datapad in hand. "The enemy fleet has been neutralized. The think tank has prepared a battle plan for your review."
Dukel accepted the plan and studied it with care. He valued the insight of the think tanks—bio-mechanical minds designed to analyze warfare with cold precision, unaffected by the emotional turbulence that could cloud even a Primarch's judgment. After a moment, he nodded. "Execute the plan. Prepare for airdrops and ground combat."
Activity surged aboard the Soulfire. The 28-kilometer vessel was a bustling hive of war preparations. Teams of Space Marines moved to their deployment stations, readying themselves for the descent. Thunderhawks roared to life, their engines a deafening promise of destruction. Servitors lumbered across the hangar, loading munitions with their mechanical limbs.
Thinker biological cogitators—grotesque amalgamations of cloned flesh and sacred technology—processed data, their flickering lights feeding vital information to the command staff. The Mechanicus' blessings shielded these constructs from the corrupting influence of the warp, making them invaluable in battles against Chaos.
Efilar, ever vigilant, coordinated with various departments through the vox. "Your Highness," she reported, "all preparations are complete."
Dukel activated his power armor's vox, addressing the warriors under his command. "For the Emperor and the Golden Throne! Victory is ours to claim. Follow my lead, and we shall crush the heretics beneath our boots!"
His words sparked a chorus of battle cries. Space Marines, Sisters of Battle, and Astra Militarum soldiers alike echoed his rallying call, their voices united in purpose.
Still, Efilar voiced a caution. "Your Highness, the think tank has identified anomalies in this engagement. It may be a Chaos trap."
Dukel's expression did not waver. Instead, a smirk tugged at his lips. "A trap? Then let them try. We will make their failure legendary."
Dukel turned to the captain of the Soulfire, an experienced veteran of countless campaigns. "Monitor the warp transmission channels. Ensure these Chaos filth have no means of retreat. Suppress their orbital defenses and secure a safe landing zone for our forces. Once their air defenses are neutralized, deploy the Ultramarines and Dreadnoughts."
The orders were met with a crisp salute and swift action. As the Soulfire's cannons thundered, Dukel entered a drop pod. The chamber was a tight, armored cocoon packed with weapons and supplies. With a jarring lurch, the pod launched, hurtling toward the surface of Nalai Star.
The sky above the battlefield was soon ablaze with fire as thousands of drop pods descended. They streaked through the atmosphere like meteorites, leaving burning trails in their wake.
Inside his pod, Dukel gripped his weapons, his voice steady as he roared into the vox. "Imperial warriors, the battle begins! Show these heretics that this galaxy belongs to the Emperor!"
As his pod impacted the surface, Dukel was already prepared to lead the charge. Around him, the battlefield erupted as Space Marines, Sisters of Battle, and Imperial Guard forces landed, their collective might crashing against the forces of Chaos like a righteous storm.
"For the Emperor!" Dukel bellowed as he plunged into the fray, his blade slicing through corrupted flesh. The war for Nalai Star had truly begun.