Cassius stared at the screens in front of him. Beside him a tech-priest hovered nervously. He could sense a growing sense of frustration building inside the Astartes. The reason was on the screens. Most contained static, a few gave readings, but these were faint. Since arriving in the Varlislia system a week ago, the task force had hovered behind a dust cloud in the outer system. Their repeated scans of the system had been inconclusive and the tech-priest had no answers for Cassius as to why. All he could say was that there were potentially 2 or 3 other battlegroup sized forces currently entering the Varlislia system, but all his evidence could simply be solar flare activity. Even worse, he had no good explanation as to why the sensors were not working well. It was as if unseen forces were acting in the Varlislia system, but nothing his knowledge could explain.
The technical concerns were not what mattered to Cassius. His main concerns were twofold. First, the remainder of the strike force had not arrived on schedule. The 3rd Company and the Legio Invicta contingent had apparently been delayed in the warp and so had missed the rendezvous. This left Cassius in a difficult position. Due to the lack of data, Rear-Admiral Ague Oleander was not keen to move his fleet towards Varlislia without the support from the 3rd Company’s ships he had expected. However, Cassius’ second problem was that the data had indicated that there was some sort of conflict already ongoing on Varlislia. It currently seemed to be quite low intensity, and so Cassius wanted to strike as even his diminished force could still make a real difference. This was compounded by not having heard any further from the mysterious Inquisitor, or the alleged Space Wolves reinforcements. Perhaps they had been delayed by the warp storms as well?
It was time to make a decision. His men had idled in these Navy ships for too long. He had not served the Emperor for nearly a thousand years to sit by while one of His worlds was attacked, especially when the foe was allegedly the hated Tyrannids. Cassius strode towards Oleander’s command throne. He had made his decision. Even though he couldn’t command an Imperial Fleet, he would make Oleander do his duty to the Emperor and move his fleet to Varlislia, even if it meant risking his ships. Cassius was sure that the enemies of the Emperor would either make way or they would feel his wrath.
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A bolt of lightning arced in front of the Thunderhawk. As it raced on through the clouds, dark shapes seemed to hover out of view, following them through the blackness. The storm seemed to be tearing Varlislia itself apart, or at least that was how the adepts back in orbit had described it. Such superstition was lost on Cassius. All he had seen was risk to his campaign here. On making orbit, they had received no clear messages from the surface. Without knowing where or when his forces could be best used, Cassius had settled on creating a secured dropsite in preparation for when his reinforcements arrived. The topographical scans had shown promising valley, on the main continent but far enough from any orbital defences or attention. Cassius was not taking any chances. There was meant to be a small settlement there, but no optical scans could penetrate the thick clouds. He would take an initial strike force down in thunderhawks to secure the area before bringing down his heavier equipment. Once it was secure he would bring the Tallarn contingent down to guard the drop site while his forces scouted further to establish contact with whatever loyal Imperial forces were left.
Cassius could tell that there had been some recent Tyrannid presence in orbit, and he was fully aware of the challenges that xenos worshiping cults could have on a weak civilian populous. A small system ship was left ruined in the upper atmosphere, bleeding into the void. The scars on its flanks were clear – it had been attacked by one or two small tyrannid ships. These were no longer in sight, perhaps having fled as the Imperials approached. But Cassius knew the threat; Tyrannid ships rarely travelled alone...
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The thunderhawk touched down and the first tactical squad was already out, moving into the pre-dawn darkness. With them went Heranclum, their librarian, clunking along in his suit of terminator armour. Cassius heard the second thunderhawk touch down behind them and ahead saw the first outlines of a ruined townscape. Not much more than a village, it looked ruined with neglect. He ordered the devastators and 2nd squad to move left, to take up positions overlooking an avenue to their flank. The sternguard brought up the rear as the small assault squad triggered their packs and flew off to the right to scout deeper into the settlement.
The still of the dawn was broken by a cry from Heranclum, and a wave of psychic fire bust from his hand into the nearest ruin. A second later, his combat squad opened fire in the same direction and Cassius grimaced as he saw the burning carcasses of genstealers failing over the rocks. The other combat squad was firing into the darkness and a gust of wind cleared the mist to reveal a horde of tyrannids moving to engage his force. Cassius felt an uplifting wind rising through his ancient frame. This is why he had brought them to Varlislia. In that moment he was not concerned with the wider war, he wanted only to purge the heathen xenos with puring flame wherever they stood before him. With a rousing cry, he led his bodyguard of terminators towards the foe....
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Heranclum was fighting for his life. Cassius could shout inspiring words all he liked. The truth was that the Ultramarines were being overrun. He stole a glance to his left to see another spore hammer into the ground disgorging yet more tyrannids, their vile weapons felling more Astartes. Another combat squad withdrew from the onslaught, dragging their wounded with them. His attention returned to the present as a hormougant jumped onto his armour. Heranclum tried to throw it aside, but it was too quick and a talon cut through a joint in his arm. The marine to his right shot it with his pistol, but was then overwhelmed himself by three more. Cassius rounded his bodyguard and they charged into the fray, scattering the remaining hormougants before them. Heranclum, breathed in relief and checked the vitals from his arm. The damage was severe, and the day was still far from won. As he watched Cassius charge off to meet the next foe, Heranclum wondered how the old Chaplain always had the strength....
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Cassius shot the biovore as it scarpered for cover, its baser instincts taking over now its link with the hive mind was broken. To his left, the second terminator squad were blasting the remaining tyrannids from the ruins. Cassius watched with quiet pride at their skill as a missile took the head clean off the tyrannid prime that seemed to be leading this assault. The xenos were in full retreat, and the field belonged to the Ultramarines. Once the remaining buildings were cleared it would make a good staging ground for their operations here on Varlislia. But as Cassius surveyed the battlefield he realised he would not be leading any more attacks soon without reinforcement. The battle had inflicted heavy loses on his force, with most marines requiring medical treatment. A handful had even been taken to the Emperor’s grace. He needed time to regroup and find out what in Terra was happening on this forsaken world.
The first battle for Varlislia might be over, but the war was just beginning... 
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