Ferrea Voluntas

DATE: 02/05/2025

TIME (GMT): 18:00

ERA: Warhammer 40k

TYPE: COOP

GAME: Arma 3

EVENT: Official

AUTHOR(S): Doctor for Brothers in Arms

SLOTS: 24 / 26

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RATING: (11)

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Vortanos Prime, once a proud bastion of Imperial industry and faith, now teeters on the brink of damnation. For months, the planet’s surface has been gripped by an unseen horror—an insidious plague that rotted flesh, corrupted souls, and raised the dead into shuffling, disease-ridden monstrosities. The local Imperial Guard regiments, valiant though they were, have been fighting a losing battle. Their numbers dwindle daily, their fortified zones shrinking into scattered bastions of resistance amidst an ocean of filth and despair. The Astra Militarum could delay the inevitable collapse, but they could not reverse it.

The Inquisition could not stand idle.

High above the ruined world, the Crucible of Judgement, a sleek black Inquisitorial cruiser, hangs in low orbit. Aboard it, Inquisitor Thane Rendane prepares his forces for immediate deployment. Rendane is no stranger to warzones of spiritual and physical decay. A stern, calculating man forged in the crucible of a thousand crises, he is infamous for his ruthlessness and clarity of purpose. To him, there could be no half-measures against Chaos. Only annihilation.

Under Rendane’s command is the 117th Inquisitorial Storm Trooper Company, an elite and uncompromising force drawn from the Schola Progenium’s finest. Veterans of countless purges, this company was trained to operate independently, strike hard, and show no mercy. Each soldier bears carapace armour reinforced with silvered purity seals, their hellguns modified with anti-corruption sigils burned into the power packs. They are not merely troops; they are weapons crafted for one purpose—to kill corruption at its source.

The briefing was brief and direct. Auspex scans had identified a locus of plague energy deep within the hab-factoria districts of Ferrinox, once the beating heart of Vortanos Prime's production might. Now, it is a festering pit of rot and blasphemy. Rendane's orders are clear: insert, locate the source, destroy it utterly, and if possible, recover any relics or knowledge of how the corruption had begun.

The drop will not be simple. Atmospheric conditions, fouled by warp-tainted storms, make standard orbital insertions risky. Instead, a low-atmosphere launch would be conducted in Valkyrie gunships and Grav-Chutes where necessary. Resistance is expected to be fierce—not just from plague zombies, but potentially from corrupted Imperial forces and Chaos cults that often bloom like tumours around Nurgle's infestations.

As the company assembles in the launch bay, the solemn rites of battle-readiness are observed. Chaplains march among the troops, anointing each warrior with sacred oils, intoning litanies of purity and hatred. Inquisitor Rendane himself stands before them, his own armor—a black suit of artificer carapace etched with ancient hexagrammic wards—gleaming under the cold light.

"Brothers and sisters of the Emperor's wrath," he declares, his voice cutting through the clangor of preparation, "today you strike not at the bodies of traitors, but at the heart of rot itself. This world may already be lost—but we shall ensure the darkness here goes no further. You are not merely soldiers—you are the hand of His judgement. The enemies of Man shall know fear before they are ended."

With those final words, the company embarks...