Legion Brief: R-PLAS/30M (Plasma Weapons)

Mechanicum issue for Legion distribution. Circulate to armoury officers, attached adepts, and unit leaders.

Plasma weapons are advanced specialist arms produced under Adeptus Mechanicus authority for the Astartes Legions. They are not a general-issue replacement for bolters or volkite; they are issued sparingly due to cost, technical demands, and maintenance burden.

Patterns mirror common infantry roles—pistol, rifle, heavy support—but employment is specialist. Officers and squad leaders may carry plasma pistols as sidearms; rifles and heavy patterns are typically restricted to designated plasma gunners and heavy support elements.

Mechanism (Field Description)

Plasma weapons generate an energy pulse that superheats and accelerates a contained “bolt” of plasma mass. Power is supplied by a compact core; discharge requires consumable plasma “pellets” to provide mass. This is not volkite discharge and not las-tech: plasma bolts deliver extreme thermal and kinetic effect with strong penetration against personnel-grade protection and light armour.

Employment Summary

Plasma weapons are selected when bolters/volkite become inefficient against protected targets. Effective versus:

• Mass infantry and fortifications (barrier defeat, rapid incapacitation)

• Battle-armoured infantry, including many power-armoured patterns

• Light armour and hard targets short of true anti-tank requirements

Advantages

1) High lethality vs protected targets
Plasma retains authority where conventional infantry arms begin to fail.

2) Ammunition density
Pellets are compact; magazines carry substantially more shots for comparable carry mass/volume.

Limitations

1) Specialist logistics
High cost, strict maintenance, trained operators required.

2) Thermal management
Overheating risk under sustained or overcharged firing. Heat discipline is mandatory.

---

Safety and Collateral Control Notice

PLASMA FIRE IS INDISCRIMINATE ONCE IT LEAVES THE MUZZLE. It does not politely stop at the intended target.

• Backstop discipline is compulsory. Plasma will punch through personnel, many field barriers, and light cover that would arrest bolt or las. If you do not know what is behind your target, do not fire.

• Friendly fire risk is elevated in dense formations, shipboard actions, and compliance operations involving allied auxilia. Plasma bolts do not “graze.”

• Collateral damage is predictable. Bulkheads warp, conduits rupture, promethium lines ignite, and pressure seals fail. If mission parameters require capture, infrastructure preservation, or controlled escalation, plasma is a poor choice.

• Do not fire into systems you cannot afford to lose. Vox relays, life-support runs, reactor-adjacent compartments, and void-seal doors are not “acceptable losses” unless command explicitly states otherwise.

Addendum: Operators who treat plasma as a prestige bolter will be corrected by the armoury staff, then by physics.

---

Logistical Note (for those who ask “why not issue plasma to all squads?”)

Plasma weapons are excellent at the individual level and inefficient at Crusade scale. Mechanicum forges must allocate capacity. Every plasma coil, containment chamber, and calibrated core is time and labour not spent on higher-order priorities: voidship reactors, lance batteries, titan plasma annihilators, orbital infrastructure, and the maintenance burden of the Great Crusade itself. Simple infantry weapons win battles; the Mechanicum is tasked with sustaining wars across the stars.

---

Game Stat Entry (House Standard)

Patterns and Fire Modes

Plasma weapons come in pistol/rifle/heavy patterns.

• Fire modes: SA / BF / AF (as equivalent bolters).

Damage

Plasma weapons deal baseline bolter damage +1d6, plus the following flat bonuses:

• Plasma Pistol: 6d6 + 8

• Plasma Rifle: 7d6 + 10

• Heavy Plasma: 9d6 + 14

Ammunition

• Ammo capacity: 4× the equivalent bolter magazine.

  • Power from miniature core; magazines carry compact plasma pellets as mass.

Special Ammunition

• Plasma weapons cannot use special ammunition of any kind.

---

Overcharge and Heat Rules

Overcharge

• Overcharge shots do not consume extra ammo.

• After rolling damage, you may set any one d6 to a 6.

• Each overcharge shot adds +1 Heat.

Heat Thresholds

• Pistol: Threshold 1

• Rifle: Threshold 2

• Heavy: Threshold 3

When at or above threshold: Disadvantage on all rolls until cooled below threshold.

Heat Gain and Cooling

• If you do not fire the plasma weapon for 1 full round, remove 1 Heat.

• Any attack roll that shows a double adds +1 Heat (even without overcharge).

  • Overcharge + double = +2 Heat.

Shutdown and Catastrophic Failure

• If you roll a double while at or above Heat Threshold, the weapon shuts down for 1d6 + current Heat rounds.

• If that double is double 1, the weapon is destroyed, and you take damage as if hit by an Overcharge shot.

---

— FORGE SEAL NOTICE —

By Writ of the Divisio Armorum, Forge-Annex Sigma-VI.

Unauthorised modification, unlogged recalibration, or operator “improvisation” of plasma weapons will be treated as sabotage until proven otherwise.

---

Incident Extract: 18/PLAS/SIG-VI

Classification: Minor Incident (Material), Major Incident (Discipline)
Location: Assault Corridor 3-19, voidship Lex Talionis, Deck 14
Unit: Expeditionary Auxilia, attached to Legion boarding element
Weapon: Plasma Rifle, issue pattern, operator-certified

Summary:
During clearance of a pressurised hab-compartment, operator discharged plasma on full automatic into a retreating target with no confirmed backstop. Bolt penetrated target, breached bulkhead paneling, ruptured a coolant line, and scorched a void-seal control junction. Compartment pressure dropped; door seals cycled; smoke and vapour obscured the corridor. Two auxilia suffered burns and inhalation trauma during extraction. Objective delayed 4 minutes, 38 seconds. Target expired regardless.

Findings:

• Operator did not confirm what lay behind target.

• Operator did not declare plasma use in confined space to squad lead.

• Armoury had issued correct warnings; they were ignored.

Corrective Action:

• Operator re-certified under supervision.

• Squad lead reprimanded for inadequate fire discipline.

• Armoury reminder circulated: Plasma is a tool for solving hard problems, not creating new ones.

Closing Note:

If you require intact bulkheads, intact allies, and intact infrastructure—use something else. If you require the target to cease being a problem immediately and accept the consequences—plasma will oblige wonderfully.

Legion Brief: Volkite Infantry Weapons

Mechanicum issue for Legion distribution. Circulate to armoury officers, attached adepts, and unit leaders.

Volkite weapons are standard-pattern infantry arms across multiple Expeditionary Fleets and are issued as a true alternative to bolt weapons for line use. They exist in the same functional categories as bolters—pistols, carbines/rifles, and heavy support patterns—with comparable handling and employment.

Employment Summary

Volkite weapons deliver focused thermal discharge. In field terms: rapid heat transfer on contact, ignition of flammables, and incapacitation of unarmoured or lightly armoured personnel. Effects are immediate, visible, and morale-degrading in massed engagements.

They are best employed for:

• Line-breaking and clearance against mass infantry

• Shipboard actions where sustained fire and disruption are decisive

• Compliance sweeps where targets are numerous and protection is inconsistent

Advantages

1) Endurance per load
Standard power cells sustain approximately double the firing cycles of an equivalent bolter magazine. This reduces reload frequency and simplifies resupply under extended operations.

2) Secondary effects
Ignition is common. Targets may continue moving while burning; nearby combustibles may ignite. This produces disruption beyond the immediate casualty count.

Limitations

1) Reduced authority versus battle armour
Volkite is less reliable than mass-reactive shells against hardened protection. Plating, void-suits, and battle-armoured infantry (including many power-armoured patterns) resist thermal transfer better than they resist penetrative detonation. Volkite remains lethal with concentration and volume, but it is not the preferred solution where hardened armour dominates.

2) No ammunition modularity
Bolters can be mission-tailored through specialist munitions (penetrators, incendiaries, etc.). Volkite power cells do not accept equivalent “load swaps.” Output can be maintained and calibrated, but flexibility is reduced compared to bolt platforms.

Operational Note

Volkite weapons are not “worse bolters.” They are a different kill mechanism with strong logistical performance and excellent effect on massed or lightly protected targets. Where hardened armour dominates the opposition, plan accordingly and allocate appropriate anti-armour assets.

---

Safety and Collateral Control Notice

VOLKITE EMITTERS ARE NOT A PRECISION TOOL. Secondary fires are a predictable outcome of correct operation.

• Do not employ volkite in oxygen-rich compartments, fuel-adjacent spaces, munitions handling areas, or any environment where atmosphere control is degraded or uncertain.

• Do not employ volkite when mission parameters prioritise capture, infrastructure preservation, or minimal collateral damage. If you need the room intact when you are done, choose a weapon that does not attempt to set the room on fire.

• Void discipline: if you must fire in confined spaces, ensure seals are sound, suppression assets are positioned, and egress routes are planned. “It will burn out” is not a plan.

Addendum: Reports of armoury-serfs “tuning volkite output” to reduce ignition are to be logged as negligence unless authorised by the Forge. The weapon functions as designed.

---

Game Stat Entry

Volkite (all patterns)

• Profile: Identical to the equivalent bolt weapon (range, damage, RoF, etc.).

• Ammo: Double the magazine/cell capacity of the equivalent bolter.

• Special Ammo: Cannot use special ammunition of any kind.

Thermal Ignition

• If the target is flammable, it gains Burn 1:

  • Takes 1d6 damage per round.

  • May also trigger panic (per your morale rules).

  • End of each round: roll the burn die — on 1–3 the burn stops; on 4–6 it continues.

Heavy Volkite (support patterns)

• If the target is flammable, it gains Burn 2:

  • Takes 2d6 damage per round.

  • May also trigger panic.

  • End of each round: roll both burn dice — the burn stops only if both dice are 1–3; otherwise it continues.

The Journal of Brother Tyndarios, 11th Legion – Part 21: Sink or Swim

 

479.948.M30 – Eremus Gate System

Command is a habit you grow into, like wearing power armour for the first time. At first it feels ill-fitting, heavy in the wrong places. Then, slowly, you forget where you end and the ceramite begins.

The flotilla drills in the cold light of Eremus Gate.

Below us, the colony on Eremus II – Patron, as the settlers call it – claws another day of survival from an unfriendly world. Above, we weave the three warships into something that might one day pass for a fleet: the Ashen Promise with her lean, predatory lines; the paradoxical Ashen Daughter; and the Ashen Dragon, proud and new and unmistakably of the 11th.

On the surface, Auxilia regiments and armoured companies conduct live-fire exercises under our watchful auspex. Astartes squads practice orbital drops, thunderhawk assaults, and close-quarters fights amid the half-finished bastions of the colony. There is something pleasingly honest about dropping from the sky into mud and hostile weather instead of onto the practice decks of a voidship.

I watch it all from the command throne and remind myself that, by the Legion’s standards, I am barely more than a neonate with delusions of grandeur. Captain Giorgious has led men in the Great Crusade for a century or more. Keeper Andropolous has walked the halls of the Librarium since before some Legions even had names.

And yet I command the flotilla.

No captain of the 11th would yield that authority without cause. Somewhere in the high reaches of the chain of command, someone has read my dispatches and written three words in reply:

Sink or swim.

The thought is… clarifying.

---

We convene a war council aboard the Ashen Promise: Giorgious in his etched armour, Andropolous robed and shadowed. The hololith in the centre shows not a battlefield but a knot of data-cords and icons: Eremus Gate, Droskael, Krynaros, the Ashveil Reach. At the far end of the projection, half-shaded, the symbol we have come to use for Krypteria.

The compiled reports on the Patron lie before us—my own journals, the Magos’ analyses, navigator impressions, Severin Klay’s more opaque Chronos-notes. We all agree on three things:

1. The Patron is an Abominable Intelligence of the first order.

2. It has migrated a significant part of itself into the Warp and now feeds upon souls.

3. It cannot be allowed to continue.

Where we differ is timing.

Giorgious is blunt: we do not yet know how to kill it. Andropolous adds that striking at it blindly might worsen the very distortions we are meant to contain. Rhadamanthine's assessment argues, predictably, that to destroy it before we have stripped it of every scrap of useful lore would be a crime against the Machine God.

On this, at least, we are aligned: we will not move directly against the Patron until three conditions are met:

• We understand what it will take to unmake it.

• We have resources sufficient to do so without squandering the lives and ships already invested.

• We have extracted whatever knowledge can be safely turned to the Imperium’s benefit.

Until then, we will continue as we have begun: pushing deeper into the Cindral Expanse, reclaiming worlds, seeding colonies, establishing human presence. On the surface, it will look to the Patron as though we are doing exactly what it requested—bringing it more souls, expanding its “data set.”

In truth, every new bastion we raise is another blade we plant in its flesh.

---

Later, in a quieter chamber, I meet with Severin Klay.

He looks the same as ever: neat, precise, unassuming. A man any quartermaster or ship’s purser would pass without a second thought. It is a good mask for an agent of the Ordo Chronos.

Klay confirms what I already suspected. Captain Giorgious and Keeper Andropolous are not part of the Chronos web. They know that time is… flexible in places, that the Reach itself is a kind of bruise on the fabric of causality, but they are not read into the deeper work. They must not be, he says. Too many minds entangled in paradox only deepen the wound.

All matters of temporal instability and non-linear causation are to be confined to a narrow circle: Klay, myself, certain unnamed figures elsewhere, and—now—High Keeper Barotta. Our dispatches on such matters will continue to go out double-encoded: Legion ciphers wrapped within the old House Veyra navigational codes. Whoever is reading them on the other end understands what they are looking for.

To give shape to our response, we convene a tech-tribunal: Klay, Magos Rhadamanthine, and representatives from the Legion’s own forges and Librarium. Their mandate is simple in wording and impossibly complex in practice:

• Classify all technologies and data associated with the Patron.

• Determine what is outright heretical and must be destroyed.

• Identify what may be studied, adapted, or quarantined for possible use.

For now, their work is theoretical, built on fragments from the Myrmidion, the Ghouls’ systems, and the Patron’s own transmissions. When we reach Krypteria, it will become very real indeed.

---

It is almost a relief, after that, to encounter something as simple as a familiar face in an unfamiliar corridor.

I find Iskandra Veyra aboard the Ashen Dragon, walking the galleries with two of her new attendants and looking, for once, almost relaxed. I think I have underestimated how much strain she has been under. Be that as it may. Her House and its remnants have been formally sworn to the service of the 11th Legion, their previous ties to the Imperial Fists severed.

Navigator Houses are not tossed between Legions like chattel. For one to be reassigned—even a small one like Veyra—means someone very high indeed has taken an interest. The pattern continues.

We walk together toward the launch decks, trading the kind of dry observations that pass for levity between a Navigator and an Astartes who have both seen too much too quickly. She complains—lightly—about the dour nature of our Keepers. I assure her they are among the more cheerful sons of the Dragon.

Then I see Erastes.

He is in the company of two Astartes in unfamiliar livery: granite-grey armour like my own, but with black pauldrons, one bearing a stark “X,” and dark cloaks that swallow the ship’s light.

The House of Xandor.

I have heard the name only in whispers. They are a Chapter of our Legion that exists in the kind of official silence only Librarians and Keepers can maintain: never acknowledged in public musters, never listed in fleet rolls, yet always where the Librarium needs them. They answer directly to High Keeper Barotta.

The two black-cloaks peel away without a word as we approach. Erastes walks between them and says nothing.

When he returns to my side, something in him has changed. The easy, duellist’s poise of an Emperor’s Child is gone, smoothed into the stillness of the Granite Guard. His face is as impassive as any son of the Dragon.

He does not explain where he has been or what was said. I do not ask. But from that moment on, he does not leave my side—even when he is, technically, off-duty.

It seems the House of Xandor has taken an interest in him. I choose to take that as a mark in his favour.

---

489.948.M30 – In Transit to Droskael

The path to Droskael is familiar now. The warp along this route feels… worn, as if our repeated passages have pressed a shallow channel through the currents. With Iskandra on the Dragon and the other navigators in their thrones, the voyage is as smooth as any such thing can be.

Midway through, two of the black-cloaked Astartes come to my quarters. They do not knock; they simply are there when the door opens. They inform me, with the calm certainty of men accustomed to obedience, that the High Keeper would very much like to speak with me in the Great Hall. It is framed like a polite invitation. It most certainly is not.

The Great Hall of an 11th Legion warship is part throne room, part fortress chapel, part oubliette. At its heart burns the black flame. It gives no light, and yet everything near it is illuminated too clearly.

From behind that fire steps High Keeper Barotta.

I have seen him in pict-captures and glimpses, but never this close. His armour is old, older than the Legion’s current panoply, its plates etched with sigils that hurt the eye if stared at too long. His eyes are older still. His presence is… heavy, like standing at the edge of a deep shaft and feeling the abyss pull at you.

He tells me he has been reading my dispatches with great interest.

He tells me it was he who ordered the Ashen Dragon sent when my first message, echoing strangely through time, reached him on Karthene.

Then, with the same unhurried calm, he confirms that he is part of the Ordo Chronos. Or will be. Or has been.

The words twist in my mind, but he seems unconcerned. When dealing with time, he says, cause and effect are less a straight line and more a knot. The Ordo, as I have encountered it, is not yet formally founded in my present, but its roots run forward and backward alike. The Patron, the Reach, the Ashen flotilla—all of this, he suggests, plays a part in what the Ordo will one day become.

He does not say exactly how. I suspect he cannot—or will not.

We speak then of the 11th Legion itself.

Barotta explains something that no true Son of the Dragon would ever commit to a briefing slate: that our Legion is, in a sense, two Legions.

The Dragon’s sons are strong, but not numerous. Our gene-seed is potent yet parsimonious. Fewer aspirants survive implantation, and those who do do not always bud true in sufficient numbers. To wage the Great Crusade requires mass as well as excellence.

So the 11th has adopted… “various techniques.” Methods not spoken of outside the highest circles. Methods that produce more Astartes than our gene-stock alone might allow—warriors fully capable in battle, but often lacking the independence of thought and spark of initiative required for higher command.

To lead such men, the Legion cultivates a distinct officer caste: those whose minds are flexible enough to adapt, innovate, and make war not just by rote but by design. Promotion among them is not a matter of mere seniority. It is a test of vision.

As he speaks, the black flame flares.

For a heartbeat, I see myself not as I am now but larger—armour bearing the sigils of a Chapter, not a mere company, a cohort of Astartes at my back. The vision is gone as quickly as it came, but Barotta’s expression suggests that he saw it too, and is pleased.

We talk of other matters: the thing of darkness I slew in the heart of the hulk, the serpent-pattern that coils through my visions of the warp, the shadow of the Patron coiled through both. He does not name the horrors that lurk beyond it, but he shows them: four vast presences, glimpsed only in hints and silhouettes at the far edge of comprehension.

There are no gods. But there are powers in the Immaterium that have worn that shape in the minds of lesser beings, and we would be fools to pretend otherwise.

Finally, almost as an afterthought, he speaks of the Dragon himself.

I learn that our Primarch was found on Terra itself, before even Horus. In my ignorance, I assume this means he was the first discovered. Barotta corrects me.

Alpharius was the first found, he says. The Emperor named him for it. I confess I do not know the name. Barotta explains he is the Primarch of the Alpha Legion—and that the Emperor has, by design, kept him from his sons while they scour the stars for his missing twin, Omegon, who will be the last Primarch brought into the fold.

I do not know why he tells me any of this. Each revelation is the sort of thing that could shake whole Legions if spread unwisely. Perhaps this is his way of testing me—of widening my frame of reference so that, when the time comes, I will not falter at the scale of the decisions I must make.

Or perhaps he simply dislikes keeping all the secrets to himself. I shudder when I think of what other secrets those old eyes might have borne witness to.

Either way, when I leave the Hall, the black flame still burns behind me, and the path ahead feels both clearer and more perilous.

---

495.948.M30 – Droskael System

The rest of the transit passes without incident. No manifestations. No temporal dislocations. No ancient machine minds whispering in the vox.

When we translate out of the warp into the familiar geometry of the Droskael System, the bridge crew can relax. Some even smile. It is a strange thing to think of a war-torn, half-ruined system as a place of safety, but compared to what lies ahead, Droskael feels almost like home.

We are to rendezvous with the Black Comet and begin the next phase: binding the Ashveil Reach into something that can stand beside Terra and Mars, and then turning, at last, toward the shadow at its heart.

No shots are fired today.

No blood is spilled.

That will not last.

Draco Vult.