Chapter Text
Anakin manned the battlements of Kasr Kraf. This battle felt off to him. While fighting battle droids had always exhilarated him, this fight left a sickening taste in his mouth.
He had watched Jesse and Fives mowing down wailing cultists in the thousands, and the most horrifying thing, was their souls.
Philosophers and scientists had debated over the existence of the soul for as long as sentient beings had existed. Of course, he was Force-Sensitive, and the existence of the soul was obvious to such an individual. He could almost see the souls within these cultists, and they were warped to a degree that defied comprehension. That wasn't all Anakin saw.
He could see strange, spectral creatures, and whenever a cultist died, he felt their soul be violently removed from existence, as if it was dragged from reality itself.
He could see terrifying warriors, the Black Templars, beginning to charge against howling berserkers in blood red armor. He watched as Obi-Wan's men swept down from the burned sky in gunships, and AT-RTs leapt from the back to stiffen the charge.
Suddenly, a terrifying rasping breath filled his hearing, and he turned to witness 3 new warriors. Clad in grey, with hazard stripes decorating their armor, they had evidently climbed the wall, and were sweeping all before them.
Anakin tightened his grip on his lightsaber, preparing himself for a massive fight, and he stepped forward. The leader turned his red eyes upon the new challenger.
"Well, well, well," He boomed, the vocabulator unable to deaden the hatred filling every word. "A mortal seeks to test himself against me! What is your name, little one?"
Anakin felt creeping dread in the pit of his stomach, but he ignored it. "I'm General Skywalker, of the Galactic Republic. We are not of the Imperium."
The terror before him threw back his head and laughed cruelly. "Then after this world burns, I will go to your Republic, and I will teach it to fear the name of Kheros, Warsmith of the Iron Warriors! For I am iron within!"
His accompaniment roared out, "Iron without!"
A tide of anger almost drowned his fear, as he pictured Chancellor Palpatine's head accompanying the shrunken heads hanging from this Warsmith's belt, Padme kneeling before him. He rushed his enemy.
The mace in his hands flickered with lightning, and suddenly, his ribs exploded with agony, as he was flipped backwards into a crenellation. A crushing strike crushed the stone he had just managed to leap off of. He realized this warrior was probably capable of defeating General Grievous, and thus, more dangerous than anyone he would ever even be capable of fighting.
The power mace moved like a thunderbolt, and Anakin attempted to block. The weapons hissed angrily and Anakin was forced back. Desperately, he attempted to force push Kheros backwards, but he only kept pushing.
"Your paltry sorcery will not avail you, Skywalker!" The Iron Warrior bellowed. Suddenly, the roar of an engine filled the air, and many more warriors leapt down to join them.
They were a strange mix. Most of them were clad in bright yellow armor. A few of them, could not have been more different. They were black armored, but strangely, they appeared to be on fire, and had their armor adorned with skull ornaments.
The Iron Warrior growled in irritation. "Meddlesome Fists. Do not interfere in my games."
"The lead warrior in yellow raised a hand. "Fire at will. Concentrate all fire on the Warsmith."
Anakin backed towards the yellow armored giants, as they advanced towards the Iron Warrior trio, bolter shells whizzing over his head. A hand fell on his shoulder, and he looked up into the stern eyes of a Space Marine. He wasn't wearing a helmet, and his grey eyes bored into Anakin. Releasing him after a moment, he nodded respectfully.
"Follow me, mortal." He was surprisingly soft spoken for a warrior so large. "You are noble for standing alone, against a being such as he." He offered his hand.
Anakin swallowed nervously and took it. He realized with a slight shock that he would never again be able to fight battle droids without being reminded of this battle.
----------------------------------
Ahsoka stared at the armored warrior through a red haze of fury. She had chased him out from the fortress, moving at a speed that defied comprehension.
Now, they were battling on the ramparts of the central fortress. A roaring chain axe swung at her face, and she leapt aside, slashing at his face as he attempted to tug it free from the shattered masonry.
Part of his mask was sheared away, but he barely reacted, only laughing loudly.
"I am Urkanthos, foolish child! Master of the Hounds of Abaddon! Khorne will smile upon me, when I gift to him your skull!" A foolish guardsman attempted to charge him, getting torn in half for his troubles.
"You shall shed the blood of the faithful no longer!" A new voice rang out across the battlefield. Ahsoka turned, and her reddened vision returned to normal. A blinding figure materialized in the sky above the battlefield. A golden clad warrior, wreathed in fire, looked down upon them.
She was a woman in golden armor. A sword gleamed brightly in her hand, and a glow of golden light emanated from her eyes, and a halo around her head. Ahsoka's eyes widened as she looked at her massive, white-feathered wings. A name passed over the minds of every being on the fields of Cadia. The Guardsmen around them raised their lasrifles, and cheered it. "Celestine! Celestine!"
Urkanthos helmet tilted in recognition. "The corpse bride," he growled.
"Your hour is done, beast. Back to your master." The power in the angel's voice was palpable.
"My hour has not yet begun. You serve a dead god, Saint. Your skulls shall decorate the throne of Khorne."
St. Celestine raised a hand, and the glow in the air grew. Ahsoka could sense his pain, but his spiteful refusal to show even a sliver was even stronger.
"I am Scourgemaster of the Black Fleet, Master of the Hounds of Abaddon, you cannot match me alone, and if you think this," he threw Ahsoka a contemptuous glare "child, stands a chance, well, I invite her to try!"
A small smile flitted across Celestine's lips, and Urkanthos whirled around. Ahsoka's jaw dropped. At Urkanthos' back was the twin Sisters of Battle whose corpses she had seen at the fortress's threshold, and next to them stood Rex.
Rex's armor was changed greatly. His armor was accentuated with a bright red cloak, and his armor was accentuated with gold. The biggest change was his golden halo, which matched the Saints.
The three resurrected warriors drew their swords, and Urkanthos tensed for battle.
"I am not alone, and you are finished."
Urkanthos leapt towards the Saint with a roar of defiance.
---------------------------------------
Plo Koon stood resolutely on the bridge of his ship, the Triumphant II.
"Get me in contact with the Phalanx, immediately."
"Yes, General."
After a moment, the face of a stern, gray-haired human of massive size appeared on the projector.
"Greetings, who do I have the honor of speaking to?" Plo asked.
"This is Captain Tor Garadon, of the Imperial Fists Third Company. I have the same question for you." The captain responded.
"I am General Plo Koon, of the 104th Battalion, this is my second in command, Commander Wolffe. The other commander, General Unduly, is going to engage the rest of the fleet. Do you require assistance with the Blackstone Fortress?"
"No, general, the Phalanx will see the Will of Eternity shattered."
"Be careful, captain. May the Force be with you."
Plo Koon watched the main part of the enemy fleet, before he was blinded by a sudden explosion. The Phalanx's guns opened up, and pounded salvo after salvo into the hide of the wretched superweapon.
The Black Legion obviously attempted to interfere, but the weight of fire could not be opposed, and something shattered.
An unholy purple light blossomed from the heart of the ruined Blackstone Fortress, and it spread outward. When Plo looked again, he saw fields of ruined battlecruisers, and as if to confirm, an ensign reported, "The Blackstone Fortress has been destroyed, the enemy fleet is retreating."
"No," Plo said, shaking his head. "They are merely regrouping. They will be back. We must ready our defenses for when they do."