Cohn surveyed the devastation of the battlefield, the shattered remains of his battle-brothers and the ruins of Imperial architecture marked with the sigils of the Throne. Fury boiling within him, he strode toward Axion.
"Tell me the truth behind this mission!" Cohn roared, leveling his weapon at Axion's head. "This was never a mere 'relic survey.' We operated with virtually no support, zero intelligence, and objectives that remained obscured until the final hour."
Throughout their deployment, Axion's conduct had been clinical and driven by a singular, pre-calculated purpose. It was obvious to the Space Marine that this iron-clad puppet of the Mechanicus knew the exact nature of their quarry.
The Blood Ravens were prepared to die for the Emperor, and they would gladly spill their lifeblood against the xenos threat, but they would not suffer being blinded and deceived. Guilliman and Cawl had anticipated this; they knew that should the mission succeed, the Blood Ravens would inevitably demand an accounting.
Axion turned his cold, mechanical gaze toward Cohn. The Space Marine had removed his helmet, his face a mask of righteous anger.
"Mission parameters: Neutralize or seize Necron apparatus and sever the power feed to the Necron energy field," Axion stated flatly. "The chronometric origin of said constructs predates the current era, satisfying the criteria for 'relic survey.' Mission status: Complete."
Cohn's jaw tightened. He was far from satisfied, but he knew the machine-spirit within the metallic shell would offer nothing more.
Nearby, Yvraine appeared beside Axion. She looked upon the Blood Ravens as they somberly gathered the remains of their fallen kin, a flicker of something unreadable in her alien eyes.
"We must depart," the Emissary of Ynnead cautioned. "The Necrons will soon muster reinforcements we can no longer withstand. The nearest Webway gate has been located; my kin have already transitioned. Move now, or be consumed."
Yvraine would have preferred to leave the mon-keigh to their fate, but Guilliman's pact had been explicit: should the mission succeed, Axion had to be returned at all costs. This was the foundation for their continued alliance. A single machine meant nothing to the Ynnari, but the cooperation of the Lord Regent of the Imperium was a variable of infinite value. Even to the Aeldari, whose foresight was clouded, the worth of a Primarch was beyond measure.
Cohn's detachment had finished recovering the bodies and gene-seed of their fallen. Seeing the surviving mechanical maniples dragging the chassis of destroyed Destroyers to use as makeshift sleds, the Space Marines followed suit, lashing their dead to the salvaged metal.
The most grievously wounded were laid atop the sleds as well. They would need immediate stabilization aboard the strike cruiser. If the Emperor willed it, they might survive to cross the Rubicon Primaris; if not, Cohn intended to petition the Chapter for their interment within the sarcophagus of a Dreadnought. The Blood Ravens never lacked for wargear, but heroes were a finite resource.
In the distance, amidst the smoke of the final detonations, a swarm of Canoptek Scarabs scurried through the rubble, dragging a fractured, glowing metallic form away from the site.
Led by Aeldari Rangers, the survivors marched for dozens of kilometers through the gloom until they reached the hidden Webway portal. The main body of the Ynnari had already vanished into the shimmering rift, leaving only a few Rangers and Aspect Warriors to guard the rear. Cohn, standing at the tail of the column, discreetly dropped a localized beacon before stepping through. They were warriors of the Imperium; if this world were ever reclaimed, he wanted the coordinates locked for a sustained orbital bombardment.
…
Once the surviving mechanical forces and the Blood Ravens emerged from the Webway, Yvraine handed a fresh Aeldari soul-crystal to Axion, instructing him to deliver it to Guilliman. Without another word, she vanished back into the psychotropic mists of the labyrinthine dimension.
Axion looked down at the salvage. Only twenty percent of the Necron remains they had attempted to seize were left. He had watched with clinical frustration as the Necron metal, insufficiently damaged, had flickered with baleful green light and phased out of existence before they even reached the portal. By the time they cleared the Webway, the haul was pitifully small.
The Necron trophies the Blood Ravens had attempted to claim had been the first to recall, forcing the surviving combat servitors to spend their remaining energy carrying the recovered wargear of the fallen Astartes instead.
Back at the rally point, the remaining Blood Ravens, those who had stayed behind to guard the extraction zone, watched the return of the dead and the wounded with simmering resentment. The mission remained a riddle wrapped in slaughter.
Axion ignored the Astartes' brooding. He immediately hailed the transport barges waiting in orbit, demanding heavy lift-craft to recover the remaining units and materials. Of the twelve Erratana-class Armored Wardens deployed, nine were lost. The three survivors were long-range fire-support variants. The meager amount of Necrodermis they had secured was nowhere near enough to replace the nine lost engines.
The battle had provided Axion with a grim new data-set regarding the Necrons. Their tactical doctrine, an endless tide of self-repairing metallic infantry, mirrored his own logic, yet their individual combat effectiveness far outstripped the "trash" servitors Cawl had provided. In close quarters, the servitors were agile enough, but their durability against hyper-advanced ranged weaponry was catastrophic.
Axion calculated the variables. If he could secure enough raw material, he would meet the Necrons in a true war of attrition, metal against metal. But that required resources he did not have. He resolved that upon returning to the Ark Mechanicus, he would requisition the standard production lines once more. He would melt down the remaining three Erratana units and combine them with the captured Necron alloys to forge a new class of unit, something designed specifically to annihilate these ancient xenos.
Aboard their Strike Cruiser, the Blood Ravens wasted no time. As soon as the coordinates were verified, they unleashed a sustained orbital strike on the Webway entrance, collapsing the gate in a firestorm of lance beams.
As Cohn and his survivors prepared to set course for Ultramar to demand answers from Archmagos Cawl, a heavy transport vessel intercepted them. Identifying itself as a logistics tender under the authority of the Aegis, it delivered an entire company of Greyshield Primaris reinforcements and a massive shipment of Mark X Tacticus plate and specialized wargear.
Before Cohn could transmit a single protest, a vox-link from Cawl crackled through. The Archmagos offered a flurry of pre-recorded commendations, praising the Chapter for their "exemplary performance" and "indispensable contribution to the Imperium's survival," before abruptly severing the connection. No matter how many times Cohn attempted to re-establish the link, the Archmagos remained silent.
Looking at the fresh ranks of Primaris Neophytes and the crates of pristine equipment, the Blood Ravens fell into a grim silence. They accepted the "hush money." Though the mission had been a labyrinth of lies and had cost them two-thirds of a company, the fallen had been recovered and the gene-seed was secure. Their armory was bolstered, and their numbers were more than restored.
The Primaris recruits lacked experience, but they were Astartes in body and soul. With the Chapter's rites and the shared blood of future battles, they would be integrated far faster than the years required for traditional recruitment.
In the grim darkness of the far future, even a Blood Raven knew when a debt was settled in blood and iron.