Taken from the writings of the Sage Alexander Petranus concerning the reversal of the Imperium's fortunes.

Of the three hundred crew members aboard our Thunderhawk, there were but four survivors, including myself. The Grandmaster appeared at the eleventh hour, dispatching the Chaos rabble that were combing through the great ship's wreckage, but he was little too late. Alastor was gone... I could but watch, gripping my wounds, as the Heretical Sorcerer dragged him off. I confessed my sin to Lucas when he appeared before me and asked that he deliver the Emperor's judgement, but he refrained and spoke thus:

"Despair not, my good Sage. Your wounds are proof enough of your innocence. That you did not die in His service today is no shame. It simply means that the Emperor may yet still have a plan for you."

And so the Champion brought me, unworthy though I am, to the medics where I was stitched back together. I am but a coward, unworthy of speaking His divine name, but if this is truly His will, then I shall continue to serve in the small way that I am able.

When we returned to our headquarters , I found a dozen Oathkeepers splayed out near the landing pad, their apothecaries painstakingly removing broken power armour and tending to their wounds or retrieving the holy geneseed where required. Two blocks down, I could see Isaiah, holding his power weapon aloft in front of some two dozen of his brothers, apparently giving some sort of oration. I was not four steps out of the ship when I was shoved down to the ground.

"My brother! Where is my brother?" I gasped as my recently-sealed wounds screamed out within me. The golden Librarian stood above me, a whirl of lightning crackling across his staff. "Alastor! Where is Alastor?"

I was incapable of speech. Octavius stepped forward and I was certain then that I would be struck down, but a hand clasped the Librarian's shoulder. Octavius turned and saw Grandmaster Lucas standing before him. The two locked eyes for a moment and I saw the Grandmaster shake his head ever so slightly. Octavius' head bowed.

"I'm sorry..." I managed as I stumbled to my feet, "We were not prepared for such resistance... Our ship was downed and we were surrounded. He... he isn't dead, Master Librarian."

"To fall into the grip of Chaos is a fate worst than death," another voice said. I turned and saw Claudius in full battle array. There were scorch marks on his power armour. "Tell me, Sage. How was it that your flight path was known? How did the forces of Chaos know to strike at that very instant?"

"I... I do not know."

"But I do," Claudius spat, "We are betrayed again. This foul world bears a strong taint... I can feel it in the very air."

"No one disputes that, Brother Chaplain," said Lucas softly, "Betrayal is a fact we must face when facing the foul Gods. It is a lesson I learned long ago and it is a lesson I still learn today... a group of Officers under Inquisitorial Mandate in this facility were discovered making unauthorized transmissions earlier today. They claimed to possessed no memory of the events in question and I was inclined to believe them. Not every man may keep his own will when faced with the ruinous powers. Needless to say, I have dealt with them."

Claudius' head snapped towards them. "They must have accomplices!"

"And so they did," Lucas acknowledged, "Three sanctioned psykers also lie dead by my blade. Others doubtlessly remain, but the damage to the conspiracy should keep them in check for the time being."

"We cannot abide any traitors! Alastor has suffered a fate worst than death and I will not rest until every last conspirator is..."

"Claudius," said Octavius, his head still downcast, "Brother, please... we do not have time."

Though the Chaplain was wearing his skull helmet, I could tell he was taken aback. "This was your brother, Octavius! Your own flesh and blood! How can you speak of time when he suffers untold torments at the hands of traitors that walk in our own midst!"

"You, too, are my flesh and blood, Claudius," Octavius said sadly, "And so too is every man in the Company. It is to their safety and ultimate victory that we must look towards now. The Inquisitor... my brother... he shall not go unavenged."

"Well spoken," Lucas said with a nod, "Come, let us retire to the governor's citadel. There is much to be done."

Thirty minutes later, the three men were seated around a circular table. The governor's palace still wreaked of the debauchery and blood he had spilled here. They sat in silence then until at last the Brother Captain entered, for whom they each rose respectfully to their. Isaiah gestured for them to be seated as quickly as he entered.

"I just heard of the ambush. My condolences, brother."

Octavius nodded thanks and clasped his hands together. "The Emperor will watch over his soul. Always."

"May it be so with us all," Isaiah answered with a nod, "Report."

"Brother Claudius led a small reconaisance force southward to probe the defences of the agents of Chaos and encountered heavy resistance. A Chaos Lord calling himself Morax led the assault. Though Claudius and I drove him from the field, his forces were too numerous... Sixteen battle brothers were slain before we withdrew."

Isaiah turned towards "Was this the same Chaos Lord that you encountered previously?"

"Yes," Claudius answered, "His is not a face I am soon to forget."

"Morax," Lucas repeated thoughtfully, "The name is known to me... his Alpha Legion detachment has harassed Imperial shipping around the Eye for some time."

"You sound puzzled, Grandmaster," said Isaiah, "Is there something the matter?"

"Morax is a cunning creature," Lucas answered, "Barbaric, of course... I have heard that he drinks the blood of his victims. But he is a dagger, not a sword. He prefers to strike and disappear before reinforcements may arrive. The fact that he is on this world, conducting an extended campaign is unusual. It does not seem to fit his modus operandi."

"Do his motivations matter to us here?" Claudius interjected, "There is no method in Chaos' madness."

"A common misconception," Lucas disagreed, "The forces of Chaos are not simply a pack of raving madmen. There exist malevolent intelligences within their midst, Brother Chaplain, who are not meant to be underestimated. Not everything is as it seems here... the Alpha Legion have still not committed their full forces. Why the delay? And what is the mind that guides them? There are far too many unanswered questions here."

There was a silence in the room for a moment after that as the three Brothers contemplated the Grandmaster's words. It seemed to me, sitting there, that the death of the traitorous Governor truly was but the first step.

"That is a problem," Isaiah said at last, "That may be dealt with afterwards. For now, our Scouts are reporting that a host of traitorous Marines are descending upon this very citadel. If we cannot hold this position, all hopes of taking the fight back down to the south will be dashed."

"Indeed," Claudius nodded, "Our forces are already taking position. Many are exhausted, but their faiths hold them. Most of the city has been levelled, of course, but I do believe we may yet hold against the tide."

"Supplies from the North are already arriving on schedule," Octavius added, "We must hold this area until reinforcement arrives. Only then may we begin to bury our dead."

"Let it be so then," Isaiah replied, "And may the Emperor protect us all."

Transcript of a heretical text created by the Cultist Gol, detailing the capture of the prisoner.

At the twenty first hour, the last of the grey armoured brutes fell. His halberd fell from his hands as his power armour cracked beneath the might of Warp-Blessed Zharesh's axe. He breathed heavily on the ground, calling out to his false Emperor. Zharesh laughed at his folly and drove the edge of his blade through his skull as yet another fine offering to the Dark Gods.

"Has he been found?" Zharesh asked as he kicked at the corpse.

Ten of my brethren emerged from the Thunderhawk's husk. In their midst, a pitiful creature was bound in chains that we had forged before the altar of Khorne on the previous moon. Our prey, his armour broken and his face bloodied, was dragged forward and forced to kneel. He looked up at Zharesh, his eyes betraying his fear. Zharesh laughed again and put his hands to his helmet, removing it slowly and deliberately.

"It... it can't be," our wretch said as he gazed at our blessed champion.

I will admit, I had never myself been given the honour of seeing Zharesh shed his helmet before. His face was pale and his grey hair was long and almost silken. On his face, he bore many deep scars and his pale red eyes seemed to twist and turn as though they contained within them the essence of the warp itself. He smiled, revealing a row of even teeth that seemed somehow to have escaped the depredations of Lord Nurgle. "Come now, Brother Inquisitor," Zharesh said with another laugh, "Surely you recognize your old friend and comrade? These scars should be proof enough."

"Proof that my word was true, traitor!" the Imperial brat spat. I stepped forward to club him, though Zharesh held me back. "Proof that you were everything I said!"

"Is that how you sleep at night? Is that what you tell the Emperor in your prayers?" Zharesh asked, "That all the poor souls you brought to the firing line... all the innocents, all the ones that were in your way... that you killed them all for His sake?"

"Don't you dare speak His name! You defile everything you touch, traitor!"

"I ask you, Alastor, who the real traitor is? The man who was damned or the man who carried out the sentence?" Zharesh hefted his axe lightly, "You were but an administrator... a foolish bureaucrat without talent or wits. But you were ambitious, yes... very ambitious. I thought to use that ambition to drive you... to make you strive harder in the Emperor's service. Little did I know that the Changer of Ways was already whispering in your heart."

The Inquisitor tried to rise, only to be bludgeoned backwards by the flat side of Zharesh's axe. He cried out and one of my brethren kicked him in the side until he fell silent. I licked my lips as I saw the man's agony.

"I am the judge here, Alastor," said Zharesh softly, "When the Storm Troopers came, I knew at once... you were many things, but you always managed to get in well with your with your betters. A poisonous word here and a lie there and suddenly, you were in my place and I was a traitor. I, who had served the Emperor in all things for half of a century, a traitor! I was sacrificed, Alastor, so that you might better serve your ambition."

"My proof is before me right now, Zharesh," Alastor retorted, though this time he did not rise, "Who your true masters are could not be more clear."

Zharesh looked down upon his axe, which seemed to pulsate with an unseen power. "Oh yes," he said softly, "When I sat in your dungeon, awaiting execution, I prayed for the chance to avenge myself. To take from you what you took from me. Then, an hour before the morning that was to see my end, Sarados appeared. I knew what he was... I could feel it. The corruption, the despair and the never-ending yearn for battle. I cursed him and cried for the guards... but they did not come."

"If you had been a true servant of the Emperor," Alastor said, his eyes burning with a foolish fury, "You would have died there, for His sake."

Zharesh smiled again, taking a step towards the Imperial wretch. "And so I would have, had it not been for you. I remember Sarados' words well... he is a man of no small intelligence, Sarados... he said: 'You have but two choices, Inquisitor... you may embrace the power that you have spent your life cursing or you may die in the morrow for a crime you did not commit... but know this: Should you die, he shall never again escape you. And should you live, you may yet attain a greatness beyond your wildest dreams'."

"I see no greatness before me."

"And nor do I, Alastor. Believe you me, I know what I have become. But I sold my soul to the promise of the Chaos Gods for but one purpose and now, at long last, they have repaid me. As the Emperor is my witness, Alastor, I do say that there is justice in this universe."

The Inquisitor squared his shoulders and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out of his mouth. Perhaps, for a moment, he saw his folly and realized that his False Emperor could not save him from the fate the Chaos Gods had left for him. After a moment, his head bowed. "Do it then. Take your justice."

Zharesh laughed for a third time and the gathered host joined with him. "Oh, you will not die here, Alastor. You will wish you had, but no... death shall not take you for some time yet. Bear him away and bring him to our encampment. When I have the leisure, his true judgement shall begin."

With those words, the Warp-Blessed Sorcerer took up his helmet and placed it upon his shoulders again.

Transcript retrieved from the personal records of the Sage, Alexander Petranus.

With the death of the traitor Governor, the remaining Renegades soon fell into disarray. In the two weeks following the conquest of the capital, Inquisitor Alastor Drakonis, with the assistance of the Oathkeeper, began the process of filtering the population and distinguishing between those who had bent their knee to the abominable Gods and those that had stayed true to the Imperium. Tens of thousands of trials were conducted on the spot and countless heretics fell when Alastor gave the nod and the Storm Troopers unleashed the Emperor's cleansing fire.

The taint of heresy on this world remains strong, however. Grandmaster Lucas has been unrelenting, pursuing the great daemon that fled the governor's palace. Isaiah has told me that a core of die-hard traitorous Guardsmen has also rallied around one of the Ex-Governor's trusted lieutenants in the wastelands to the south east. And in the southern continent, the Chaos Marines lie in waiting behind their formidable entrenchments. All scouts and land speeders sent to probe their defences have not returned.

Julian lies dead, but much work is left to be done.

Transcript retrieved from the personal records of the Sage, Alexander Petranus.

Betrayal. Our Thunderhawk was en route to the east when we were struck by ground-based lascannon fire. We were expected. The sky began to twist with foul energies and Furies appeared, swarming and throwing themselves into our hull. "Get us out of here!" I heard Alastor shouting amidst the explosions, though soon our craft was lurching towards the ground. I made my peace with the Emperor and watched the ground rush up to us. But the Emperor is merciful. At the very last moment, our Machine Spirit made a last effort. The engine fired as we crashed to earth. I was thrown across the room and felt an arm break. But though the disaster met us, we were not broken.

"Damage report!" Alastor yelled.

"Our hull integrity is lost," the helmsman reported, climbing "The Machine Spirit is wounded, though the Tech Priests believe him not dead. Casualty reports coming from all over the ship... fifty dead, mainly from our Storm Trooper compliment. I've already sent out a distress call, but there's..."

"Sir, the Furies are coming again!"

I looked out the viewscreen and saw them. Two dozen of the beasts flew in a v formation. I am ashamed to admit that I cried out. A heavy bolter began to fire to defend us, but there were far too many... death would not be cheated of us. I looked to the Inquisitor, who was clasping his fist in silent prayer. Then, with a flash of light, they came. Storm bolters scythed through the air and the Furies screamed.

A communication channel was opened. "Inquisitor Drakonis? Are you all right?"

"I am fine, Justicar," he answered, "But this is not over. Where are your fellows?"

"We are mustering what we can," the Grey Knight answered, "A local Imperial garrison conducting cleansing operations in your name has already dispatched reinforcement. Grandmaster Lucas has also been informed. We shall defend you from the daemons while you conduct repairs to your vessel."

The Inquisitor was silent for a moment, looking out the viewscreen and into the distance. Before the Emperor, I do swear that for a brief moment, I saw him shudder. "The daemons may perhaps be the least of your concerns, Justicar."

"What do you mean?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh sweet justice... He's here."

"Who is here?"

"My old friend and fellow," Alastor answered, "Zharesh is here."

Taken from the text of the Sage Alexander Petranus, who observed the battle via a holoprojecter set in the Inquisitorial Battle Barge

The Marines of the Oathkeepers descended upon the burning city, their bolters singing the praises of the Emperor. Isaiah Aetos led the charge, his famous blade shining in his hand. With him flew Octavius Drakonis, that unparalleled man whose very presence could send an entire regiment of Julian's foul traitors into flight. On the right flank stood Claudius Varnus, that hardened Chaplain, with a sixteen picked men who had vowed to either find Julian's head or perish in the attempt. And who could forget the blessed Canoness, Clara Amparion, who flew with six of her heavenly Seraphim. Isaiah had begged her to stay behind until the city was secure, but the holy sister thirsted for vengeance against those who had betrayed mankind. Together, these four champions charged into the citadel of the betrayer, ready to claim the Apostate Governor once and for all.

Though the Governor's dupes were well fortified, the Marines moved from house to house, slaying everyone they could find before moving onward. As the final assault upon the Governor's Palace began, the foul traitors of the Alpha Legion revealed themselves at last. As Isaiah and Octavius forced their way into the Governor's ruined palace, there was a great explosion. From the smoke came a towering figure. His eyes glowed red with blood and he held a massive scythe aloft.

"Welcome Captain," the Arch-Traitor said as he brandished his weapon and licked his lips with a forked tongue, "Allow me to introduce myself... I am Caine. I trust that my Guardsmen have been good company. I must say, your Governor has been a wonderful puppet. I have seen your skill, Captain, and I do say that you will be a worthy replacement. So I will give you this chance now: Bow before me and call me master and you may yet be spared."

"So," Octavius said softly, with holy lightning twisting around his Force Weapon, "It was your whispers that drove the Governor into madness. Your whispers which damned this world."

"The Gods of Chaos whisper in the hearts of all men, brothers," Caine declared, his twisted mouth attempting to smile, "You foolish Loyalists are simply too weak to hear their call."

"Then feel the wrath of those you call weak," Isaiah declared, raising his sword high, "For the Emperor!"

And with His name upon their lips, the Loyalists charged. Isaiah and Caine's blades clashed, the scythe's dark blade deflecting Isaiah's holy sword before bouncing off the holy shield of the Brother Captain's Iron Halo. Octavius came forward then, his flaming staff striking home and forcing the blasphemous Champion back. Caine screamed and a killing blow from his scythe sailed towards the Librarian's head. It was not an inch away from Octavius' armour when Yoz, his faithful familiar, flew forward.

"Yoz!" Octavius cried as his oldest friend was cut in two by the black scythe.

Isaiah sprang forward, taking advantage of Caine's moment of elation. He struck a firm blow against the foul Traitor's skull and then activated his jump pack. Power armour struck power armour as Caine screamed, arms pinned against the wall by the strength of Aetos' jump pack.

"Octavius! Finish it!"

Octavius, still feeling the sting of his loss, brought his staff down and sundered black power armour. A second passed where the Librarian looked the Arch-Betrayer in the eye before holy thunder shook the building. Isaiah leapt away as Caine's armour was set aflame by righteous fury. The traitor writhed on the ground and screamed before a flash of light blinded everyone in the room. When the storm passed, all that was left of Caine was a pile of ash.

"Well done, Brother," Isaiah said as he took a moment to catch his breath, "But wait... where is Clara?"

Octavius was silent for a moment and his eyes appeared distant. "She has gone ahead of us... Claudius is with her and... by the Emperor... we must hurry!"

The Brothers flew through the narrow corridors. The few Renegades that offered resistance were cut down as the Assault Marines found their way to the blood-soaked throne room. The scene they witnessed I shall never forget... at one side of the room stood Julian upon a raised dais, a host of traitor Marines, Daemons and Renegades all around him. At the other stood Clara, the Chaplain Claudius and a handful of Marines, their backs to the wall as a massive Daemonic abomination cut through their ranks. It's great cleaver swung downward, knocking Claudius off his feet and across the room. He slammed against the wall and crashed to the ground, limp. It turned back towards the Canoness, grinning toothily.

"Clara!" Isaiah cried as she narrowly dodged the monstrous Daemon's cleaver.

There was a sickening laugh. "Where is your Emperor now, girl?" Julian sneered from his throne, "Your Marines have failed you, but it is not too late to beg for my mercy. I assure you, your death will be quick."

"You will pay for all the blood you have spilled, swine!" Clara snarled, "I shall avenge my sisters and my world here and now!"

With that declaration, the Daughter of the Emperor sprang upward, her jump pack carrying her above the throng as lasgun fire deflected off her power armour. She was but an inch from Julian when a blue whip struck like lightning. It wrapped around her waist and pulled her down to earth. "Well done, Vross," Julian said as the whip retracted and wrapped around her throat, "I'm sorry Clara. Be certain to tell your Emperor that he shall see me before long."

A spark of blue light coursed through the whip and the holy martyr fell limp. "Clara!" Isaiah yelled, "Clara! No!" He charged forward, only to have the massive cleaver of the Greater Daemon block his advance. Octavius dodged to his right and struck the foul beast's tainted flesh vainly.

"Fools!" Julian yelled as the forces of Chaos moved in for the kill, "The Gods of Chaos cannot be denied! Not by you, not by the Orks or that fool Sarados! He thought me weak, but the Gods stand with me! And soon the entire galaxy shall come to know my name!"

"The only thing that shall be remembered is your folly."

For a moment, all was silent. Daemon and human, loyalist and traitor alike stood still, eyes searching out the source of the sound. From the corner of the room, five shining figures emerged, their swords glowing blue. The Greater Daemon screamed, his cleaver falling to ground and his massive arms clasping at his head. It pounded a fist into the wall and opened a hole before running through the opening.

"Governor Julian," said Grandmaster Lucas, "By the authority of the God-Emperor of mankind, I find you guilty of treason. Face my judgement."

"Who... who dares? St... Stop that man!"

The Grey Knights advanced in a walk. Renegades and Alpha Legion Marines fell in droves as the greatest of the Emperor's servants charged, singing His holy names as they cut through flesh and armour alike. Lucas eyes remained locked upon the Ex-Governor, walking up the steps to the throne with his ancient blade at the ready. The one called Vross sprung forward to halt him, but his whip was sliced in two by a simple flick of Lucas' wrist. Glancing at his master briefly, Vross threw down his weapon and ran without speaking a word.

Lucas continued his ascent. Julian shook visibly and fired twice with his pistol at that giant of a man, only to have the shots bounce harmlessly off his ancient armour. Julian raised his blade high and lowered it, faster than the eye could see. The Governor crumpled.

"So," Julian gasped, "The Emperor's help comes at long last."

"The Emperor's light can never be denied, traitor," Lucas said as he withdrew his blade.

"Be that as it may," Julian replied, "I saved this world... the people... will remember me... I..."

The Grandmaster turned his back as Julian breathed his last breath. A great scream was taken up by the Renegades then. Seeing their leader dead, they fled, even as the Grey Knights continued their slaughter. The surviving Alpha Legion Marines, seeing the day lost, began to fire their bolters anew as they moved backwards in a fighting retreat. The Grandmaster, always remembering his duty, followed after them.

Octavius walked towards his Captain as his squad made to join the pursuit. His Captain was kneeling near the throne next to Clara's limp body. The jolt of the whip had not left a mark on her body. The Brother-Captain placed an armoured hand upon her face and gently shut her eyes.

"Brother Captain... Claudius is still alive," Octavius said quietly, "He needs to be brought to the apothecaries immediately."

The Brother-Captain was silent.

"She died with the Emperor's name on her lips. She died saving this planet from heresy. We must not dishonour her sacrifice, Isaiah."

"No," Isaiah said softly. He looked down at the Sister for the final time, "May the Emperor always smile upon you, his finest daughter."

Taken from the personal records of Court Historian Astor Eusebius on the eve of the Battle of Ariacad.

The walls of the palace are groaning. The Emperor's dogs fire volley after volley of their insolent artillery against us. Word of the siege has spread across the kingdom and many garrisons are reporting open revolt. The fact that so many of our own would betray the man who scourged this land of the Ork and return to the Emperor who abandoned them to their fate chills me. But the Gods of Chaos know that Julian is their devoted son. Their aid shall soon come.

At the first hour passed midnight, Julian called together his Champions. Some were already burned with loyalist-inflicted wounds, but none dared to refuse to answer the calls of their master. They sat together in a grand chamber, with Julian at the head and Vross at his side.

"Champions," Julian said when the chamber was filled and the gates closed, "We have been through much together. Not long ago, we stood together in this very room waiting for death to come by an Ork axe. Yes, there was not a single man in this room who I did not think worthy of the favours of the Dark Gods."

He paused, touching a hand to the eight pointed star carved into his face. I noticed that his eyes had taken on a sickly green glow. Clearly a sign of favour from the Gods that he serves so well.

"It pains me then to see that I was so wrong. Our defences have crumbled. The people riot and rebel against the will of the Dark Gods... all that we have built has been torn down," he slammed his fist against the table and rose, "As Tzeentch is my witness, I should have left you all to die with the Orks!"

One of the Champions, shaking visibly, spoke: "My Lord, the Loyalists-"

Vross cut him short. His whip snapped out and wrapped around the fool's neck. A jolt of electricity erupted and the man crumbled in a smouldering heap. Julian waited for a moment, challenging his Champions to speak. Not a sound was heard.

"We have but one chance left to reclaim the favour of the Dark Gods," Julian said softly, "This world and everyone on it belong to Chaos. The Marines think that we are finished, but this palace is blessed by the Dark Gods. It will not be taken. The altars of Khorne will run red with blood and then the banner of Chaos shall rise," he paused, starring into space for a moment, "Now go and prepare. And do not return to me with anything less than victory, lest you feel my... displeasure."

The Champions all praised Julian and bowed low, before filing out as one. Only Vross and I remained in the chamber. Julian starred into space again before rising in place. "I know you're there," he said suddenly.

"You know only because I wish you to know," said a voice behind us. There stood Caine in full power armour, the eyes on his helmet glowing red. "Why so anxious, Governor? Is something the matter?"

"Where is Sarados?"

"Sarados has much more pressing matters to attend to, Governor," Caine spat, "I thought I made that clear."

"So he intends to sit and watch while this city falls?" Julian demanded, standing and turning to face the Marine, "He wishes a victory for the Loyalists? Is that it?"

"'Fall'?" Caine repeated, "Really, Governor? After all the aid and supplies we have given your forces, you still cannot stand on your own two feet? My, my, what a poor investment you've proven to be."

Julian stepped forward defiantly. "These aren't Orks. I don't even know if these are even normal Marines... you must have seen the Flesh Hounds and Daemonettes in the streets. They're screaming. Something is here... some new weapon. Twelve of our psykers have been driven mad by its presence. We can't be certain of anything with this new unknown."

Caine was silent at this. "Be that as it may," Caine answered, "Sarados is completely absorbed in the task of deciphering the tome and refuses to commit any more forces save for my own personal guard. So see to it that you prepare for what is to come."

"Caine," said Julian as the Marine turned to leave, "If Sarados wants to sacrifice me, then so be it. But I'm going to remember this."

Caine glanced backwards. "Such is the way of Chaos, Governor."

Retrieved from the personal records of Chief Librarian Octavius Drakonis

Our Chapter was forged by tragedy. Side by side did the old Chapter Masters fall to stave off the Tyranid mass. Argus Warhorn and Marcus Angelus... Five billion souls owe their lives to their sacrifice. So it is then that we bow our heads towards them before consigning our souls to the Emperor and waging war against those that would curse His holy name. So it was on that day, when Isaiah led our prayers, holding his sword high and exhorting our men to battle.

"On this day, the Imperium has left its trust with us! The Servants of Chaos think us weak, but they shall soon know our strength! But we shall not retreat! We shall not fail! Brothers! On this day, the Emperor will see that we are, as ever, His devoted servants!"

The gathered Battle Brothers cheered and the banner of the Chapter was raised. On the next day, we found the enemy unprepared. Ten veterans led by Brother Orestes took up position behind their lines and disabled their armour before the tank crews could even man them. The Renegades desperately rallied, but it was too late. I made my landing next to one of their officers and split his body in two with a thought. The degenerates fought with a sickening fanaticism, but they could not stand before our fury. The base was razed and those that we did not slaughter we forced into full retreat. Claudius' reserves arrived then and gave them chase.

I can see the capital now, over the horizon. It swirls with the evil horror that Julian has brought forth. The streets here are stained with the blood of the innocent. I can hear them all... the brave men who were offered up to the lust of Khorne for staying true to their Emperor... the children who were given over to the black mercy of Nurgle... the women who were left to the deprivations of Slaneesh... and the poor imprisoned souls who even now were agonizing under the lash of Tzeentch. For a moment, I felt as though I might be overwhelmed, but I cast my mind towards that holy guiding light that sustains us. I gazed towards His glorious form and found in myself new strength, for I knew that against His holy will the darkness could never prevail. Our Whirlwinds took up position and began the bombardment. I gripped the staff and touched the hilt of my bolt pistol to my heart. The day's work was not yet done.

Personal account of the Sage Alexander Petranus, a member of Alastor Drakonis' personal guard.

The Thunderhawk landed near the hills. It's hatch open and a pearly mist came out. Ten stormtroopers came down the ramp, hellguns at the ready. They formed a phalanx and waited. I heard his heavy steps before I saw him. The Holy Warrior, the Great Defender, the Pure-Hearted... His names were only spoken in whispers. His ancient Terminator armour shimmered in the moonlight. I had to tilt my head back to take in his full height. He moved slowly, but methodically, his deep black eyes evaluating the gathered host.

"Brother-Captain... Master Chaplain..." the Inquisitor said after a moment, "Allow me to introduce Grandmaster Lucas of the Grey Knights. He has come to offer you his assistance."

"I..." I had never before known a Space Marine to be at a loss for words, but I think I understood how Aetos felt, "I am honoured."

"Do not bow, Brother Isaiah," Lucas said. His voice had an absolute clarity to it. "And same to you, Brother Claudius. One who has served the Emperor as well as you both have should bow only to the Emperor himself."

"I had heard rumours," said the Chaplain Claudius, "Of the Emperor's hammer... of the Grey Knights. The Champions who carry the blood of the Emperor himself..."

"That holy blood flows in both my veins and yours, Brother Claudius. Please, let us turn towards the matter at hand. The Governor of this world has taken solace in the twisted creatures of the warp and seeks to bring this entire world into the grip of heresy. It lies with us now, brothers, to bring forth his final judgement."

Transcript of a conversation between the commanders of the Oathkeeper Chapter, Sister Clara Amparion and Inquisitor Alastor Drakonis, taken from the records of Chief Librarian Octavius Drakonis' familiar.

Isaiah Aetos: "My brothers remain grateful for the assistance the Inquisition has lent them, Alastor. But the situation has changed. Confirmation has just come in from aerial surveillance. Julian has crushed the Orks. Whatever he and his masters wished to gain from them he now has. Our time has run out."

Alastor Drakonis: "Captain, if you act rashly you may bury us all. Do not charge into the daemon's den."

Octavius Drakonis: "According to your own reports the daemonic infestation is centred in Julian's capital city of Ariacad. The Chapter's intends to launch a surprise lightning strike at his bastion in order to penetrate his defences. When they arrive, your own forces may join us in the siege of the city itself if you so wish."

Claudius Varnus: "I would not count on the element of surprise. You will recall that my... interrogations... have yet to completely root out the subversive element in this Chapter."

Octavius: "And you will recall, Brother Chaplain, that there is no proof as of yet that any such element exist. The three brothers you submitted to Alastor have all been cleared of any wrongdoing."

Alastor: "Let us try not to get sidetracked. I am afraid this is no longer a matter of destroying the abominations of the warp. When Julian destroyed the Orks, he retrieved a tome of tremendous power. A tome that we ourselves thought to be lost. It is already in the hands of his master."

Clara Amparion: "His master?"

Alastor: "Yes... Sarados is his name. I detected his presence last night. Surely you felt him too, brother... a pillar of malevolent psychic energy. When your Chaplain brought news of an Alpha Legion presence on this world, he was the first name to come to mind. I am afraid to say that our worst nightmares have come true."

Isaiah: "Who is this Sarados?"

Alastor: "Alpharius' lieutenant... A Space Marine whose records stretch back to the Great Crusade. When Alpharius turned on the Emperor, Sarados was at the fore. Oceans of blood are on his hands. I first encountered him while hunting a heretic from our own ranks ten years ago. I had the heretic cornered when fifty Marines appeared from out of thin air. A hundred Imperial Stormtroopers in the service of the Emperor and thirty members of the Daughters of the Emperor were killed in one hour. At the same time, a fleet came from the warp and lay waste to the planet's hives. Millions died. I myself hardly escaped with my life."

Isaiah: "Brother Claudius, was this Sarados among the Chaos warriors you encountered?"

Claudius: "No. I do not believe so. The stronger of the Chaos champions was not a psyker and the sorcerer he brought with him seemed to be a subordinate."

Clara: "And the tome you mentioned? What of that?"

Alastor: "The Shrine of St. Aerith was captured by the Orks at an early date. In it are the bones of an Imperial martyr."

Clara: "The Blessed Lady, Aerith, yes, I know that. But what could Chaos possibly gain by desecrating her?"

Alastor: "What is not known, sister, is that Aerith sacrificed herself to kill a sorcerer by the name of Zi'isrel, a man said to have eluded the Emperor himself during the Great Crusade. The book and its blasphemous secrets were protected from destruction by black magic and so it was interred with the very martyr that sealed it. It has now been unearthed."

Isaiah: "And what foul acts do these heathens seek to undertake?"

Alastor: "I know not. But Sarados is more powerful now then ever before. To face him without our combined forces will be madness."

Isaiah: "And to give him the time to call more foul beasts of the warp to his side is equally mad. Inquisitor, we have waited long enough. My Oathkeepers will consign our souls to the Emperor and move. That is all we can do."

Clara: "I agree! Please, Captain, let me and my sisters come too! Julian damned this entire world... my friends, my family... my home. All gone thanks to that... that monster. Please, let me fight. Let me avenge this world."

Isaiah: "There have been enough martyrs in this war already, sister. If anything were to happen to you, then this entire Chapter would grieve for the loss. But... I shall see what I can do to deliver Julian to your hands. I believe that the Emperor would deem that to be just."

Clara: "Thank you... Isaiah."

Alastor: "If this is the course that you are set upon, Captain, then I can do nothing to stop you. I simply pray that this not lead to disaster."

Isaiah: "As do I, Inquisitor. As do I."

Transcript retrieved from the heretical writings of Gol, detailing the conversation between the Chaos Lord Sarados and his subordinates following the infamous Day of Green Blood, wherein the Orks of the southern continent were utterly crushed.

When the sun fell, the Orks lay dead in droves. Their green corpses were charred black from the cleansing fire of our Hellhounds. Here and there an Ork would stir, fumbling for his crude axe before being offered up to Khorne by one of our champions. I saw one Ork nob attempt to flee, only to be gutted alive by Caine and his Marines. His Dread Majesty Julian pronounced that that day would be forever known as the Day of Green Blood. While the False Emperor sleeps, the Gods of Chaos proved the truth of their words and freed Malathor from the grip of the Ork as they had promised.

During the celebrations, I saw a ship land amidst the camp. Caine and his Marines met it, bent on one knee in their power armour. A great figure emerged, grasping a staff that swirled with the power of the warp in his right hand. This was a man I knew only from whisper and rumour. The great architect, Sarados, the Captain of Alpharius himself. Dozens of worlds lay at his feet, but to try to discover his motives is akin to looking into the face of Tzeentch himself. At his side were those two great men of legend, Morax and Zharesh. As the Gods are my witness, to see such power gathered together in one place nearly overwhelmed my senses.

"Where is it?"

Caine rose to his feet and handed the Sorcerer Lord a bound tome. "My Lord, the Tome of Zi'srel is yours."

"Excellent," said Sarados, clasping it in his hands. Even beneath the cover of his ancient helm, I could tell that Sarados was jubilant. "At long last, our journey is nearly at end, brothers."

"I would disagree," said Morax, that mountain-like man, "The Orks were a simple matter... But I shall remind you all that the Loyalists are still gathering force in our own backyard. We would not do well to neglect them."

"No," said Zharesh, "It is not just Marines, my Lord. You have certainly detected the presence of the Inquisitor by now. His name is Alastor and I knew him once... he is the man who would have condemned me and I am eager to repay the favour. But make no mistake: He is quite resourceful. "

Sarados' eyes did not leave the book, but his voice was strong: "I have not searched and strived for this long to be foiled by a fledgling Chapter and a petty Inquisitor. The Oathkeepers have two paths open to them... they may either march underneath my banner and bring glory to the Dark Gods or die namelessly. For now, the Gods have given us their favour. We must begin the final stage as soon as possible."

"So be it," said Morax, crossing his arms.

"And let extend my compliments to you, Brother Caine, for your deeds here today," Sarados declared, raising a hand towards his still-kneeling champion, "Khorne himself must have smiled down upon these fields."

"I live but to serve," Caine answered, "Oh, and lest I forget: Julian requests an audience."

The Sorcerer Lord snorted: "Do you think I have time to waste on your pet Governor, Caine?"

"No. But I did promise him I'd ask," he answered with a smirk, "As for the Governor, he has been steadily losing Combat Patrols in the north. The Marines are almost certainly plotting an attack."

"Tell your Governor that if he cannot hold the frontier then perhaps he is not worthy of the grace the Gods have bestowed upon him. Oh, and tell him to clear away the Ork corpses. The stench of them disgusts me," Sarados laughed to himself and hefted the tome, "Now, if you will excuse me, I am eager to study my prize. Take heart, brothers... for our day shall soon come."

Holorecordings retrieved from the body of the Callidus Temple Operative Shelia Marin during her mission to scout the Ork south. The Operative was discovered by the Orks and killed at the eve of the battle.

Ik Headthumpa (Ed's note - Judging by the alien's size and manner, this Ork is most likely of 'Nob' rank): "Boss! The Boyz up in the Gork hills is runnin! Da humies is comin' straight for us!"

Warboss Grok Toofsmasha (Ed's note - According to the records kept by Julian before his betrayal, this Ork is the leader of the Waagh): "Dem spiky humies is wanting dis here praying place real bad. Julie's bringin' down all his boyz for dis one. Might got that big smelly thing with him too."

Ik: "They've got some right big tanks rollin' down with 'em too. I bets they'll make a nice pretty boom when we go chop 'em. Can we leave now, boss?"

Grok: "Shut yer hole, ya git. I'm the boss 'round here. And I's got me a cunnin' plan, see? Julie wants this here shrine thing, but he's forgettin' dat dis 'ere planet belongs to da Orks now. So gather da boyz round. We'll wait here and let da humies think we's runnin' scared. Den when they come down 'ere to go lookin' for shiny bits, we'll run out and bash 'em up nice and good, see?"

Ik: "You's sure is a slippery one, boss."

Grok: "Dat's right, see? And once we've made a nice proper job of 'em, we'll jump straight up over dem hills and make the rest of 'em into Squigfeed. So get out der and get da lads together nice and quick. We'z got us some humies to kill."

Ik: "You gots it, boss."

Transcript of a heretical text written by the Cultist Gol, detailing a meeting of the Chaos Lord Morax and his Sorcerer Zharesh following the successful ambush and annihilation of the Chaplain Varnus' convoy.

At the eighteenth hour, the guns fell silent. The Emperor's lapdogs, thirty three in all, lay broken before the Champions of the Dark Ones. Their ancient Dreadnought fell to the ground and a great cheer erupted amongst the Legion. Lord Morax gave the order that the bodies be stripped of arms and set aflame, so as to better please the Dark Gods and deny the geneseed from the Emperor's foul servants.

When this was done, Warp-Blessed Zharesh consulted the Changer of Ways and gave news to our master: "My Lord, loyalist reinforcements will be arriving in this area at any moment. It would not be wise for us to linger here any longer."

"I must agree. Make ready to march, all of you," Morax dictated and the Legion began to make preparations to fade back into the night. "And the Space Marine Chaplain?" Morax continued, turning towards the great Sorcerer, "What of him? I did not see his corpse numbered amongst the dead."

"He and eleven of his fellows slipped through our net and evaded pursuit," Zharesh answered, "A pity, claiming him would have dealt a harsh blow to Loyalist morale."

"Perhaps," Morax replied with a hiss, "But that man fought well."

Zharesh's red eyes narrowed, surveying his Lord carefully. "You sensed it too? The hatred... the fury... the lurking despair."

Morax nodded and licked his upper lip with his pointed tongue. "It does not take a Psyker to realize that Chaos whispers in his heart, even if he refuses to listen. He feels the truth every time he thirsts for our blood... To bring about a schism in the ranks of the Oathkeepers would serve our purposes well. He is not quite unlike you were once, brother."

"Do not remind me," Zharesh answered, "It is an agony greater than anything Grandfather Nurgle could conceive of to even be on the same planet as that foul Inquisitor."

"We shall claim him soon enough," Morax replied, "As for the Chaplain... Perhaps we may speak to Sarados of this matter. Already, I am very intrigued."

Conversation between Octavius Drakonis and Claudius Varnus, following his safe arrival at the St. Marika Monastery, as recorded by Yaz.

Claudius: "Betrayal!"

Octavius: "Who do you believe has betrayed who, Brother Chaplain?

Claudius: "I know not. But by the Emperor, I shall soon find out! How else could the convoy been intercepted? We took every precaution! And now Brother Artimas is dead, one of the most ancient and venerable Dreadnoughts in the entire Chapter! And thirty two of our Battle Brothers lie with him! We cannot simply ignore this!"

Octavius: "No one in the Company can be accused of ignoring the presence of a Chaos Legion. Brother Aetos is already tracking the Alpha Legion Marines that came upon you."

Claudius: "And if the Company itself has been penetrated by Warp Heresy?"

Octavius: "I do not suspect a single member of our Chapter of treachery. However, if this is your judgement as our Chaplain, then you are of course entitled to conduct whatever inquiries you feel are appropriate. Tell me, are you going to bring these concerns to our Brother-Captain?"

[Yaz here noted a moment's hesitation]

Claudius: "I intend to fully."

Octavius: "Very good. I'm certain he would be quite anxious to hear your concerns. But please remember, Claudius, that we are brothers. If there is indeed treachery in our ranks, then it will be rooted out. But nevertheless, only by standing together can the Emperor's light shine upon this planet once more."

Claudius: "I shall heed your words, Brother Librarian. The investigation will begin at once."

Taken from the private logs of Canoness Clara Amparion of the St. Marika Monastery

By the grace of the Divine Emperor, our noble sanctuary has been saved! Through our devotion, my Sisters and I drove back the foul Governor's dupes and held the tide long enough for reinforcement to arrive. I believe that the Emperor Himself intervened on our behalf upon this day, for it was his very own Angels of Death that came to us, dropping beside our humble chapel in drop pods and falling onto our enemies on wings of light.

The Chapter that has been sent to our world are called the Oathkeepers and theirs is a distinguished history, fighting against both Tyranid and Necron abominations on our frontier. Their peculiar name stems from a great battle wherein two seperate Chapters suffered heavy casualties fighting back a Tyranid swarm and then joined together as one in the aftermath, swearing an oath to honour their fallen comrades by bringing the light of the Emperor to the furthest corners of the galaxy.

When the battle was done their Company Commander, Isaiah Aetos, made obeisance at our chapel, entering its holy walls with helmet in hand and head held low. He is a tall man, standing a head above most of his Brothers. I wondered, looking at his great form, if perhaps I were gazing at a reflection of the Emperor Himself. The Brother-Captain prayed in front of our altars for some forty minutes, consecrating his blade with holy water and kissing the sacred ring that the foul Governor had tried to claim.

I offered the Marines lodging and a feast in their honour, however they are tireless in the service of the Emperor. "The Chapter and I appreciate the gratitude," Isaiah said to me, "But time is on the side of Chaos. Your sisters would be welcome to join us when we toast the Emperor in the Governor's halls however. For that victory will be yours as much as anyone." I intend to take him up on his offer.

For now, there are many wounded to treat. The Chief Librarian has already sent three of the Chapter Apothecaries to help tend the sick, along with a Tech Priest to begin repairs to the Chapel's structure, who I must now meet. I praise the Emperor again and again for delivering us from heresy. May his guiding light bring swift victory to his Marines. Amen.

The following is a transcript taken from the records kept by Yaz, Chapter Librarian Octavius' familiar.

Octavius: "We have much to be thankful for here. The prisoners we have taken claim that the Governor was quite keen on stealing the Emperor's ring. Might I recommend having it moved to the Pride of Terra?"

Isaiah: "The Sisters here did not hold against Chaos for so long only to have the Emperor's treasure taken from them. I would not wish to squander the Canoness' good will."

Octavius: "Wise. I am certain Varnus would agree. One further matter... my brother Alastor has finally arrived in system and is requesting an audience. Are you available?"

Isaiah: "Certainly."

[a moment or two of non-discussion was noted here by the Familiar. The Inquisitor enters, most likely summoned inside by Octavius through telepathy]

Isaiah: "Inquisitor Drakonis, it has been too long."

Alastor Drakonis: "Thank you, Captain. I am pleased to see that your Chapter is making such great progress on this world. But I am afraid great trials lie ahead. The monstrosities that the Governor has at his command are not to be underestimated. I have a trump card, but I need time. I ask that you hold off any greater offensive action for now."

Isaiah: "Time is of the essence, Inquisitor. Julian is currently captivated by his quarrel with the Ork, but once he realizes the danger that we represent to him, he will turn his forces on us. The consequences of a delay may be enormous."

Alastor: "But surely you recognize the threat of a trap. I remind you that we still know next to nothing about the Legion of Chaos that is pulling Julian's strings. Plunging headlong into his grasp may doom your men and this entire world."

Isaiah: "And should we wait for whatever reinforcements you might have, the designs of Chaos may come to fruition. Our Chapter will press on."

Alastor: "I have the utmost respect for the abilities of the Oathkeepers, Captain, but this is a task for the Inquisition. I do not wish to see the blood of the Emperor's finest spilled needlessly."

Isaiah: "And I assure you, Inquisitor, you will see no such thing."

Octavius: "I am inclined to side with my Captain here, Alastor, but we can at least take the extra time to bring up more resources from Fortress Loyalty. But wait, where is Varnus? He should be part of this discussion."

Isaiah: "His column was due here twenty minutes ago. Has he not yet arrived?"

Octavius: "I cannot sense his presence near the Chapel. Yaz, can you find out if he has he arrived yet?" [a pause, supposedly as the Familiar goes to do what is asked of him] "Hm, he has not. In fact, our scouts report seeing no sign of him in the immediate vicinity. Brother Teris has already taken the liberty of dispatching a Land Speeder squadron to investigate. "

Alastor: "Perhaps he was delayed? I believe the weather is quite harsh in these mountains. A twenty minute delay is no large matter."

Octavius: "It is not in the nature of our Chaplain to be tardy, Alastor."

Isaiah: "No... it is not."

Taken from the personal records of Court Historian Astor Eusebius (excommunicate) on the reception of the Arch-Champion Vex at the Ex-Governor's Palace.

The Arch-Champion entered the inner sanctums at the ninth hour of the day, kneeling before the altar of the Dark Gods and awaiting summons. I had heard tell of his arrival the previous day and took the time to observe the wretch. He was a huddled mess with the scent of blood about him, which agitated the Flesh Hounds greatly. The marks of his failure were still about him and I could see him quavering in place. Pathetic.

At the eleventh hour, Vross appeared, his pistol in plain view. He did not speak, but the so-called Champion rose and bowed immediately before following him into our Lord's chambers.

"Ah," said Julian when the wretch splayed himself out before him and kissed his boots, "I did not expect you to return so soon, Champion."

"My Lord," Vex managed to choke out. I couldn't help but sneer. "My Lord... my men and I are not..."

"Not responsible?" Julian inquired, "Really? Then who is? Who am I to hold responsible for the defeat of my forces at the hands of a group of deserters and women? I gave you sufficient men and arms, did I not? Precious men that were diverted from our drive against the Orks. Men who are now dead."

"My Lord, the forces you gave were more than sufficient for our purposes... the Monastary would have been ours, were it not for the interference of the Space Marines!"

There was silence after he spoke these words. His Dread Majesty Julian gestured with his right hand and Vross stepped forward, kicking the man in the face with his iron-studded boot before lashing him across the back with his whip. Repeating the gesture twice more, Vex was soon little more than a bloody mess.

"Space Marines," Julian said as his Champion writhed in agony, "Have we any confirmation of this?"

Vex was incapable of speech at this point, but I heard a voice from one of the corners of the room. I could not make out the man's features, but he spoke with a clear and calm voice. "It is not unexpected. It was only a matter of time before the Imperium intervened. You should be happy, Governor. Your saviours have arrived at last."

The Governor sneered before turning back to Vex. "What fate befell the Emperor's Ring? Or were you and your men too busy fleeing to discover that?"

"The Chapter Librarian of the Loyalists retrieved it," Vex said quickly. He was still breathing heavily, like a dog. "I know not where he took it."

"We shall do without it," the other voice said, "Governor, I want you and your men to redouble their efforts against the Orks. We cannot let the Greenskins keep us from our prize for so long. For myself, I shall see what I can do to impede these Space Marines."

"If that is what the Gods of Chaos desire, then it shall be so," Julian answered He turned to leave then, before stopping short. "But oh yes, lest I forget... the reward for our great Champion here for bringing us such excellent intelligence."

Vex, to his credit, was not fooled by the Governor's tone. "My Lord, please, forgive me..."

"You are forgiven, Vex," the Governor said earnestly, "And the Dark Gods will reward those that die spreading their Word."

He turned and left then, his black cloak waving behind him. Vross stepped over the whimpering Champion then, drawing his pistol to dispense the mercy of the Dark Gods.

The following is a full text transcript of an audio distress signal received at 0200

This is Sister Clara Amparin of the St. Marika Monastery, coordinates 82 by 35, sending out a general distress call to any force loyal to the will of His Supreme Majesty, the Emperor of Mankind. Our monastery ... [unintelligible] ... a force of heretics and blasphemers. Our walls are holding, but we have a few Sisters with us, along with a handful of Guardsmen that did not succumb to the hateful forces of Chaos. I beg of anyone that hears this... heed our call. Our Monastery bears a relic of the God-Emperor ... [unintelligible]... along with countless innocent peoples. Chaos cannot be allowed to prevail here.

Repeat, this is Sister Clara of the St. Marika Monastery...

The following is an exert from the transcript of the resulting discussion between Chapter commanders, as recorded by Octavius' familiar.

Isaiah Aetos: I share your concerns, Brother Librarian. But orbital surveillance from the Pride us showing a concentration of the Governor's forces in that area, along with evidence of recent weapons fire.

Octavius Drakonis: That may be, Isaiah, but we have no way of identifying the players here. The heretic governor may be conducting an extermination campaign or some dark ritual of the Gods of Chaos. It may even be an elaborate trap. We would not want to carelessly commit our forces so early in the campaign.

Isaiah: Nor would we wish to leave loyal servants of the Emperor to the mercy of Chaos.

Claudius Varnus: If I may interrupt, what is this artefact that the Sister spoke of? The relic of the God-Emperor... Octavius, do we have any records of this?

Octavius: Yes, Brother Chaplain, I have checked against the records. During the Great Crusade, the Emperor came to this planet personally and dispatched a colony of Eldar Exodites. He is said to have left a ring here, which the colonists have since treated with all due reverence. However, I have no records of the ring being kept at St. Marika's.

Claudius: We cannot allow such a holy thing to fall into Julian's foul hands. Brothers, should such a thing come to pass we would all be guilty of failing to fulfil our duty.

Octavius: I cannot disagree with that. However, I must emphasize the need for caution. The final defeat of the Governor and the reclamation of this world to the service of the Imperium is much more important than any fleeting blows to Imperial pride. However, I will defer to you in this matter, Brother-Captain. Shall we answer the distress beacon?

Isaiah: We must and we shall, Brother. Brother Varnus, ready a strike force. Brother Octavius, do what you must to enhance our intelligence in this matter. But remember: Time is of the essence here. The longer we wait, the deeper Chaos roots will grow.

Octavius and Claudius: Agreed.

From the Personal Log of Oathkeeper Captain Isaiah Aetos following the landing at Outpost N64-3 (renamed Fortress Loyalty)

The first strike in a campaign is always a difficult thing. An early defeat can lead to a death sentence for the entire Company and even an initial victory can lead to disaster if the underlying strategy behind it is not sound. The northern regions of the planet thus had many advantages for us as a landing point. For one, the harsh snows and hails are of no consequence to our Marines, but certainly have a certain effect on the Renegades. More importantly, however, the accursed traitor Julian has concentrated the bulk of his forces along his border with the Orks. The forces in the north are little more then genocidal agents, sent to force the local population into the foul worship of Chaos.

Vargus disagreed with my selection, saying that an immediate crushing blow against the Ex-Governor's main forces would have been ideal. Octavius intervened, however, pointing out that we possess little intelligence and that the Governor's anti-air defences meant that a drop assault might prove fruitless. Chaplain Vargus was firm, but eventually allowed himself to be overruled.

The exact target of our first operation was an Outpost called N64-3, a large barracks being used by the Traitors. Bike squadrons charged against enemy lines, while Assault Marines followed close behind. My Command Rhino, the Laserion, coordinated our communications from behind the lines while our Thunderhawk, Pride of Terra, fired Melta Torpedos against their back line. Against such an onslaught, the enemy quickly folded. Still, I was surprised at the ferocity with which the defenders fought. If the Renegades are this committed at such a remote outpost, then this will be a difficult campaign indeed.

After the outpost was secured and fortified, Brother Octavius and Vargus arrived, along with the bulk of our forces. Octavius informs me that his brother Alastor, an Inquisitor of high rank, will be arriving in the system soon. The presence of the Inquisition is reassuring, for we know not how far the rot has spread into the general population. Let the Inquisitors sort the faithful from the heretic. My Company will focus upon the task at hand.

Extract from the Journal of Chief Librarian of the Oathkeeper Space Marine Chapter Octavius Drakonis concerning their impending deployment to the planet Malathor.

The world Malathor is a temperate planet in the northern regions of Segmentum Obscurus. The world is of little strategic value, with limited resources available for military use, which perhaps has worked in its favour, as it has previously enjoyed a measure of peace and security.

This changed last year, however, as the planet came under attack by Ork marauders. I am told by my brother [High Inquisitor Alastor Drakonis - Ed's Note] that the local PDF was at first led effectively, though I entertain obvious doubts about his conclusions. Regardless, local resources were too poor to allow a proper defence/evacuation of the world to be conducted. The southern Continent completely overrun by the Orks in the first four months, while north remains in precarious defensive position

Requests to Segmentum Command by the Malathorans for reinforcement went unattended due to need to divert resources to Medusa V. Governor Julian [excommunicate - Ed's note] was essentially told he was on his own. I spoke with my brother about this and, while he maintains that it would have been impossible to reinforce the Governor, the manner in which Julian and his people were told to sit down and wait to die did not help matters. The envoys of Chaos took advantage of the situation. Our intelligence on the planet is spotty at best, but Daemons and Marines of unknown origin have been observed in the drive against the Orks. The Orks have been pushed back, but the population are now being subjected to the Chaotic Powers that 'liberated' them.

A sizable portion of the population is still loyal to the God-Emperor, though they are disorganized and lack leadership. Many have been forced to take refuge in the isolated Monastary communities maintained by the Priesthood, which number seven in all. Of these seven, three have been overwhelmed and desecrated by Julian's forces, while two are in Ork territory and presumed destroyed. The status of the two remainders is presently unclear.

There is an undoubted element of personal bitterness in governor's decisions. Perhaps his sense of betrayal spawned his own betrayal? Regardless, the fool did not understand that it is we that serve the Emperor, not the other way around.

In any case, the daemonic presence on planet is significant. According to Alastor, deserters from the governor's office have reported massive creatures that exceed normal manifestation. Alastor is concerned. He tells me that many of the Daemons that have manifested are noted in the Grimore of True Names, including Nurgle's servent Maelhobias and the hounds of Khorne called Ur'Mog and Val'n'rk. Calling forth such Daemons would require centuries of preparation.

I have discussed the matter with Brother-Captain Aetos and he agreed that this seems like an unusual commitment of force for the Forces of Chaos on so remote a world. Chaplain Varnus was quick to point out that, should Chaos or the Orks successfully claim the world, the Holy Fleet will simply bombard it into oblivion. It is not for us simple servants of the Emperor to know the motivations of Chaos, however one cannot help but wonder if there is some element here that we are perhaps missing.

In any case, Aetos will be leading a preliminary invasion into Renegade territory at the northern outskirts of the Governor's continent. Once he establishes his beachhead, Chaplain Varnus and myself will follow after the battle. Perhaps some of these uncertainties will become clearer once we are on the surface.