Pluto had been where the Imperial Fists had fought before, here their Father and Primarch, The Praetorian of Terra himself, Rogal Dorn, had slained a traitor Primarch, Alpharius of the Alpha Legion. That battle had been relatively short but now, the Alpha Legion, with a certain deadly determination somewhat uncharacteristic of them, had decided that here they shall cleanse the shame by conquering the planet on which their Primarch was slain. Erasing that which had been weighed upon their shoulders for twenty millenia.
When the Alpha Legion arrived, with a fleet numbering twice of what they had brought in the First Battle of Pluto twenty thousand years ago, they engaged with such might that the formidable defenses of Nyx, Styx and Kerberos barely lasted for half a day, their weapons platforms being obliterated by their battle barges and warships as hundreds of drop pods ferrying vengeful traitor astartes landed on the dwarf planet, crashing onto the sheets of Nitrogen Ice and falling onto drop zones where the Imperial Fists had laid a trap.
The anti-air defence of Pluto was formidable, the collection of hydras, manticores and rocket launchers wielded mostly by guardsmen and conscripts, funnelled the Alpha Legion into death zones, where enfilading and devastating fire would greet them. However, this defence would not hold for much longer as the Alpha Legion fleet led by the ancient battleships Alpha and Beta bombarded the Plutonium surface, reducing defensive turrets, systems and fortifications to dust.
Yet one should never doubt or underestimate the Imperial Fists ability to fortify positions, for deep into the surface of Pluto, emerged batteries of anti-air, lance, macro and plasma cannons which had been imbued below its icy surface and surprising the Heretics. Yet the Alpha Legion kept pushing forwards, landing hundreds of thousands of disposable minions that nearly overwhelmed the complex trenches and fortifications held by regiments of the Guard with sheer weight of bodies or drowning them in a wave of blood. The white fields of Pluto were stained with dirty red and black of dried blood or the charred bodies of heretics that had the misfortune to encounter the squads of Adeptus Sororitas who had a strange obsession with flamers.
Chapter Master Char Kord had brought the vast majority of his Chapter, The Fists of Dorn, to Pluto, and had been given overall command of the defense of Pluto. They still doned the colours of their chapter but all had taken to painting the armour on their left arm in Imperial Fist yellow and had the left pauldron adorned with the ancient insignia of the Imperial Fists. For the most part, they had taken minor casualties, only the guardsmen and the conscripts were dying in droves though not at rates higher than previously estimated. Thus, he could play his game just as planned. Whenever the Alpha Legion made a move, he would counter it with immense fortifications which they would inevitably tale with disastrous casualties. Even as sleeper cells within the mortal regiments emerged, they could do little to brunt his defences.
While the battle in the void continued above Pluto, small groups of Alpha Legionnaires snuck onto Imperial vessels whether they be battleships, escorts or transports, they snuck onto their bridges and had them plunge into Pluto's surface. Even as the subterranean guns broke dozens of this ships apart, they would still cause unfanthomable damage. But the Imperials were tenacious with their defence, strongpoints were made atop the debris while what salvageable guns were placed back into action by loyal tech-priests. However, one heard of reports of entire regiments of guardsmen turning traitor almost instantaneously with newly conscripted regiments turning on the Emperor upon setting foot on Pluto. No matter.
Yet they could not stop the traitors advance, every move made by Kord was countered by the heretics and for every of their moves, another was countered by Kord. This battle was slowly becoming a great siege in it of itself, all to takeover an astropathic survelliance array and to recover lost pride. Hundreds of thousands, had already shed and spilled blood on Pluto and yet more had yet to spill even a single drop. The Imperium funnelled whatever reinforcements they could to Pluto, to protect the lynchpin of their survelliance systems and to pre-occupy traitorous forces from assaulting Terra.
However, the Alpha Legion seemed to have grown tired of throwing men at the meatgrinder that was Pluto. Sleepers had planted teleportation homers around the headquarters of the Imperial forces, that all important relay system that had been turned into a fortress. The Legion swooped in as they launched a fresh offensive, the largest yet. As the commanders were pre-occupied with directing troops, they had failed to realise squads of terminators, hell-brutes and veteran astartes that fell upon them. The halls, corridors, command centres and offices were turned into a mess of blood and flesh as the disguised legionnaries unleashed death upon Imperial Commad despite finding themselves at times, at the mercy of defensive systems and guards meant to trap such an attack. Chapter Master Kord, found himself face to face with a dozen astartes that were larger and greater in size than himself, staring down at him with eyes of glowing vengence and unquenchable rage.
"I am Alpharius."
These men were stronger than most in the command centre, the generals of the Astra MIlitarum were the first to perish as they flung themselves with laspitols, chain and powerswoards at the towering beasts. A few elite Terminators of the 1st Company were present and charged the brutes along with Canonesses and Company commanders of Astartes, they too found themselves overpowered. Kord joined in the fray, Powerfist and Powersword in hand, figthing alongside those who remained. Individually, they were weak and the Chapter Master could have certainly beat them, but they came as one as if they were the extensions of a singular being.
They too fought strangely, their spears capable of being disessembled to form swords, hammers and indeed miniature guns. Their stances flactuating at every moment and Kord finding that he was mindlessly trying to deflect their attacks yet the fatal blow was soon struck. One of those men slipped under a punch of his powerfist, impaling him with a knife the size of a sword to a mere mortal. The Chapter Master reeled in pain for a moment before regaining his footing and attempting a swing of his sword upon a second man, however he was either too slow or had become careless for a third had stepped in and sliced of Kord's arms with a swing of his own sword. The Chapter Master was now defenceless and found himself pushed to the wall by a fourth man. He was unlike all the other Legionnaries in the Command Centre even though he looked almost identical from the armour they wore, the way in which they had moved to the spears they carried.
He stepped foward, his footsteps loud and earth-shattering as if he too walked with a certain determination. The Imperial Fist did not falter or waver, he looked on towards the man with a stern expression as he tried to regain energy to try something foolish, a charge perhaps. Yet, that man forcefully drew his sword and slashed it across the Fist's chest before impaling it into his shoulder.
With what remained of his strength, the Fist howled a cry of defiance as the bald and pale man smashed the Chapter Master's skull with his great spear, causing his golden armoured body to slump onto the cold hard ground lifelessly.
The relay station was summarily laced with explosives and detonated, the explosion racing high into the thin Plutonium atmosphere and engulfing what units or vessels that had hung above or around the station, causing a great crater to forever be formed upon the blood red surface of Pluto. The Imperials watched with fear, sadness and despair as their headquarters went up in flames. For the first time in months, however, there was a deafening silence. The Alpha Legion left Pluto soon after, it no longer had any strategic or tactical value to the heretics, however they left hundreds of thousands of menials and slaves behind, they fought viciously. Pluto's surface was now covered in broken fortresses, strongpoints and the carcasses of ships, while these were covered with dead bodies, the air being filled with the screams of the dying and the relay station having finally been sent to oblivion.
The Second Battle of Pluto had concluded, with it the first blow had been dealt to the Imperium on that blood-stained dwarf.
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The man had lived a life before. A life unlike most on this planet had lived. A life of rage, heresy, governance and eternal war. He was bred for a purpose, yet that purpose which had driven him on for years seemed to have faded when he saw his brothers turned, his father killed by his favoured son and recognising his own folly.
Now, he lived again. Trapped in the armour of the man whom he thought he had slained, his own brother whose blood was most assuredly spilled on that day twenty millenia ago. Yet it was not him, not him at all. Ever since that day on that heretical ship, he had made a vow of secrecy ( save for some of his brothers which knew of his actions ), he would work from the shadows, a place which was far more hostile than the world which he had left. However, he knew that his sacrifice was of use, keeping Terra safe from harm.
When he stepped foot on Pluto, he had known what would happen, he had forsaw his death, a death which should have happened on that ship but he was spirited away before the heretical sword could fall upon him, he knew what would happen and knew his vow would have to end.
As the Alpha Legion made their retreat, he would stay behind, watching as the final ship disappear into the black void before stripping himself of the armour he had worn for nearly twenty millenia, revealing a man that had clearly aged, his white hair had longed turned a ghastly shade of grey. He looked towards his left arm, a bionic arm that had been a gift by his brother which he had not seen since his death on Ullanor, it was golden with a shade of black. He paced around the ruins of Pluto, searching for his vessel that had been hidden under the debris. in which lay the past he had abondened.
WIthin the hold of that dropship, was a golden armour that was stained with the sins that he had borne along with a chainsword and bolter.
"I have returned."