by Andy Clark
Danial engaged his haptic controls and swung the Oath of Flame around, pivoting his shield as a salvo of battle cannon shells slammed into it. One shot punched through the shield, ringing from the Oath’s torso armour and leaving a staved indent just feet from Danial’s head. Reeling, the kingsward saw a House Chimaeros Knight coming at him from the front, chainsword raised and whirring. There were more on every side, revealed in snapshot images through washes of static. The Chimaeros Knights were driving hard at House Draconis, pounding fire into their former allies. Many House Draconis Knights were already damaged, or sprawled in burning wreckage on the ground. The rain hissed against their corpses, but still they burned with the fires of treachery.
With no time to charge his thermal cannon, Danial revved his reaper chainsword and frantically parried his enemy’s first blow. The Chimaeros Knight pressed in close, the armour clad enormity of it suddenly terrifying. Hundreds of tons of servo-driven metal and fire slammed into him like a battering ram. The Knights’ chainswords met in a sparking clash of industrial cutting teeth, and Danial cried out at the haptic shock of the impact.
Sire Rosierre Dar Chimaeros, he thought incoherently as the chainblades swung apart then clashed again. He recognised the Knight’s heraldry, emblazoned on the tilting shield of his assailant. A Knight he knew. Friendly, decent. He had presented Danial with a leather-bound volume of Pollandrus during a courtly visit when the kingsward was just twelve, and winked at him. Now the man was trying to kill him.
Suddenly, Danial wasn’t panicked. Suddenly he was furious. He drove Oath of Flame forward, catching his opponent by surprise and slamming his shoulder guard into the enemy Knight’s helm. Sire Rosierre’s Knight staggered backwards, and Danial followed up with a roaring stab that was parried.
‘Why are you doing this?’ screamed Danial into the vox. ‘You traitor!’
All he got back was moaning static that made him angrier still. Rosierre’s Knight swung again, a vicious cut towards Oath’s legs. Danial wrenched on his controls, managing to step back from the blow amidst rumbles of protest from his Knight’s machine-spirit. Whirring teeth struck sparks across Oath of Flame’s armoured shins, leaving deep gashes. Flexing his gauntlets and thrusting his arms forward, the kingsward cut his blade up in return, dragging its churning teeth through the breastplate of Rosierre’s Knight and out through its helm.
Fire and billowing smoke exploded from the monstrous rent, and the House Chimaeros Knight staggered backwards. The war machine passed its tipping point, and toppled. It crashed down into the mud as secondary explosions wracked its body.
‘I killed him,’ whispered Danial, his anger draining away as quickly as it had come. ‘I killed a fellow Knight.’ Then, a worse thought struck him, so painful it left him breathless. ‘Luk…’
High King Tolwyn could not believe what his hardened auspex was telling him. House Chimaeros had rebelled. His old friend and comrade, Gerraint Tan Chimaeros, had stabbed him in the back. That alone was enough to break the king’s noble heart. Worse was that they had not done so alone. Patchy reports were filtering in across the vox, of betrayal on every front. The Knights of House Wyvorn had turned, as the terrible scrapcode howl began, and poured enfilading fire into the Knights of House Minotos. Half of Grandmarshal Gustev’s Exalted Court were down already, and the Minotos Knights were in disarray, cut off from support, having charged in as per their usual bellicose tactics.
In the back lines, Sacristan Crawlers had begun to fire upon one another, with several of the stalwart vehicles already reduced to blazing wrecks. At the same time, macro cannon batteries had been unshrouded atop the peaks of each of the hab-mountains. How the enemy had hidden the immense weapons, Tolwyn was at a loss to say, but with firepower enough to destroy starships the vast batteries were taking a terrible toll upon the loyalist forces. Desperate screams and panicked vox-chatter suggested that the Marchioness Tan Pegasson had been obliterated by the opening salvo, and that her house were being systematically torn apart as they tried to fire back and avenge her death. Towering explosions marched through the distant Pegasson ranks, the blasts so titanic that they hurled Knights into the air, or ripped them apart where they stood.
Even in orbit, it seemed perfidy had taken place. A single snatch of atmospheric vox told Tolwyn all he needed to know. Chimaeros and Wyvorn bastion-ships had opened fire upon those of the other Houses, and the Imperial Navy. Sudden, delayed-fuse torpedo salvoes whipped into the Imperial flotilla, seemingly of Adeptus Astartes pattern. The High King had infuriatingly few specifics, and he had no time to try to gather more. All around him the unthinkable was happening. His warriors were dying on the blades of their brothers, and somehow he had allowed it to happen.
Fyreheart had taken several punishing hits, though the Knight’s shields had staved off any serious damage. Worse by far, Tolwyn had been forced to slay two Knights of House Chimaeros to avoid being cut down himself. He felt as though his gauntlets would never be clean again.
‘I am High King,’ he muttered. ‘I must do my duty.’
Tolwyn, came the voice of an ancestor through his throne. Old Baron Nathaniel, the High King’s great, great grandsire. Look to your children. The heir must be protected.
Tolwyn nodded unconsciously.
‘Yes, that is paramount.’ With an eye-blink, the High King opened a hardened vox channel to his Exalted Court. Two runes of the five in his retinal display remained ominously dark and dead.
‘This is Tolwyn,’ he began, pivoting Fyreheart to meet a charging foe. A thermal blast washed across his shields, and the cockpit temperature spiked. ‘Tolwyn to all Knights of the Exalted Court. Hear me.’
The Knight came at him fast, a Chimaeros Errant. Young, thought Tolwyn. Looking to impress Gerraint no doubt. Tragic.
The High King’s vox hissed and snarled as he side-stepped his enemy’s charge, ironclad feet pounding mud and water into the air. His opponent lunged with their chainsword. Too eager by half. Tolwyn swung his laser blade, and lopped the weapon from his enemy’s arm. It sailed on and crashed to the ground, teeth churning the mud in its death throes. The Errant’s servomotors whined as it tried to slow, to turn and address. It didn’t stand a chance.
A young, defiant voice cut into his vox then, clear as a bell. The Chimaeros Knight.
‘Long live High King Gerraint! Down with the Imperials!’
‘Over my dead body,’ snarled Tolwyn. His rapid-fire battle cannon boomed twice, and the Errant was smashed backwards. Three, I have slain three now, thought the High King in dismay. Gerraint would pay for this madness.
‘..ather?’ Jennika’s voice swam through howls of static to reach him.
‘My daughter, thank the fires you’re alive! What of Danial?’ As he spoke, Tolwyn worked his controls, beseeching the vox’s machine-spirits for a clearer signal. It was no good, though. The scrapcode could not be breached.
‘…still alive,’ replied Jennika, and Tolwyn felt the icy grip around his heart lessen a little. ‘Markos too… ather, what do we do?’
They had to fight back, but the scrapcode was making coordination impossible. As though reading his thoughts, Jennika’s voice filtered through again.
‘…telling the Knights… short range vox is bar… ly viable… use their autopennants… squire’s code…’
Tolwyn felt a rush of pride and love for his daughter. Such a cool head, that one. Just like her mother. Squire’s code was the first thing prospective Knights were taught, when they went hunting across the plains on horseback. Should vox become unreliable, or silent communication be required, the young squires would raise and lower the pennants on their lances in a simple code. It was something no Knight ever forgot, for it was hammered into them by their discipline masters from day one. It wouldn’t overcome the interference of the scrapcode, but when coupled with the basic Code Chivalric that all Knights were conditioned to follow, it might be enough to achieve some cohesion.
Tolwyn broadened his vox-channel and boosted its sign
al as best he could, reaching out through the screaming cacophony to all those Knights of Houses Draconis, Pegasson and Minotos who might be able to hear him.
‘This is the High King,’ he said, voice stern and steady even as his shields absorbed another hammering volley of fire. ‘We are betrayed. Houses Chimaeros and Wyvorn have turned upon us. I know not why, but they must be considered hostile. Fall back upon your Code Chivalric. Gather close, mass your shields, and use squire’s code to communicate.’
Tolwyn set the message to repeat on a loop, and began to stride through the sheeting rain and thunderous explosions towards the looming forms of his embattled Knights. If he could link up with his warriors and push back against the traitors, perhaps rally the Astra Militarum regiments to the rear, there was still a chance.
A fresh vox-hail request lit up on his retinal display. High Sacristan Polluxis, contacting him on a code-hardened private channel. He blinked it to life.
‘Polluxis, what–?’
‘My liege, I have succeeded in warding my Crawler’s machine-spirits from this scrapcode for a short while, and cast an auspex augury. I know not how they veiled their presence, but the Word Bearers are here, on both flanks, and they have brought thousands of Donatosian turncoats with them. The Mubraxians and Tanhollis are overrun. We are outnumbered and surrounded to an untenable degree, my king. I calculate that, in our current disposition, we have but minutes before the foe eliminates our forces entirely…’
Danial spun Oath of Flame, servo-motors whining as the enemy code interfered with their power supply. Not quite quick enough. Gatling cannon rounds chewed into the Oath’s flank before Danial could interpose his ion shield, which flickered blue as the stream of fire splashed against it. He glanced at the damage manifold and cursed as it swam in and out of focus. His chainsword was a wreck, riddled with holes and leaking lubricant from split pipes. Power output from his reactor was down to seventy-three per cent, and his sensorium feed was little better than a string of glitched pictures. He was fighting half blind, relying more on auspex returns and instinct than anything else.
Keep moving, came the voices from his throne, and remember to keep your shield up lad and you’re getting flanked, stop letting them lead you. Danial had mastered the clamouring voices a little, but it was like trying to fight while too many instructors berated him at once.
Three Chimaeros Knights were coming at him, each blink-click image showing them encircling him more completely. The one to his front was a Warden, and with its constant hail of fire it was forcing him to keep his shields angled towards it. The other two were Gallants, all crushing fists and roaring blades. Any moment, those weapons were going to tear through the hull of the Oath and rip him apart like the fleshy morsel at the heart of a shellfish. It was terrifying. Desperately, he tried to take a shot at one of the outflankers. With his targeting reticules fouled by scrapcode, the thermal blast flew well wide of the mark.
Danial had been trying to find Luk amidst the madness. He had to know whether his best friend had turned. He had to believe that he hadn’t. Now he was surrounded by enemies, and would die never knowing the truth.
‘I’m sorry, father,’ he whispered as his Knight shook and staggered. ‘I’m sorry, Jen.’
Danial’s cockpit rocked hard to one side, sparks raining down on him, and he cried out at the thought of whirring metal blades ripping into him. Instead, billowing flames lit his sensorium, and his vox crackled loudly in his ear.
‘You’re not dea… yet, little brother.’ Jennika, her voice full of fire. Danial realised the Fire Defiant was on his flank, and that his sister had blasted one of the Chimaeros Gallants almost in half with her pinpoint shooting. The traitor engine was sprawled in the mud, reduced to flaming wreckage.
‘Not for want of… bloody tryi… though, eh?’ said Markos Dar Draconis.
Danial had never been so glad to hear the irascible herald’s scathing voice. The images to Danial’s right jerked and flickered through the motions of Markos’ Knight charging in and meeting the other Gallant head on. Blows were exchanged in a flurry of sparks. One moment the Chimaeros engine was hammering its thunderstrike gauntlet into Honourblaze’s shoulder guard. The next it was laid out on its side, with Markos’ Knight’s foot grinding its helm into the mud.
‘…oody die… you… ing bastard traitor!’ spat Markos, twisting his Knight’s foot one last time and eliciting a muffled explosion from the machinery beneath it.
The Chimaeros Warden was outnumbered, but its pilot clearly knew how valuable his prey was. The Knight emptied his carapace missile rack into the kingsward at point blank range. Danial stepped Oath of Flame back as quickly as he dared, bracing his shield as shuddering blasts shook him in his throne. But they were not as fearsome as he had expected. Peering through his static-fuzzed sensorium, Danial realised that his sister and the herald had both stepped in close, following the Code Chivalric, and locked their ion shields with his.
‘I… thank you…’ stammered Danial.
‘…aise your auto-pennants,’ replied Markos curtly. ‘Easi… to comm… cate.’
Danial swiftly did so. Squire’s code. Of course.
Flashing messages back and forth with their auto-pennants, the three House Draconis Knights coordinated their fire. Jennika and Markos wrestled with their compromised systems and swept their Knights out wide, turning their guns inward as they passed their enemy’s shielded arc. Desperately the Chimaeros Knight backpedalled, only for one of its feet to plunge into a waterlogged crater. Servo-motors in its knee joint sparked as they shorted under the crippling pressure, and the war machine listed to one side.
Jennika moved fast, flanking her prey and forcing him to pivot his shield to block her fire. Screaming his hatred and terror, Danial clenched his fist and punched. Heat washed through the nerves of his right arm as his thermal cannon bellowed its dracon’s roar, and the enemy Knight’s armour glowed and crumpled under the unbearable heat. Energy readings soared, and Danial had just enough time to cut his visual feed before the Chimaeros Knight exploded in a blinding fireball.
Reengaging his visuals, Danial saw that his tormentor was now little more than a pair of smoking legs.
His relief was short lived, as more fire whipped in from the left. Danial’s heart leapt as he saw Luk’s Sword of Heroes limping towards him. Luk’s machine was wounded, one leg wreathed in sparks, a gaping hole ripped in its carapace. Behind him came a House Wyvorn Paladin, the acid green of its heraldry lurid through the smoke and rain. It was pounding battle cannon rounds into Luk’s rear-angled shield, which flared with each savage blast.
Danial saw Markos’ auto-pennants drop and rise, signalling all-out attack. Without thinking, Danial engaged his motive actuators and walked Oath of Flame straight into the herald’s line of fire. Target warning runes lit up across his instruments as he entered the other Knight’s field of aggression, and his vox spat a garbled mass of static and cursing as Markos bellowed at him to move. The kingsward stood his ground, doing his best to stay between the herald and Luk’s Knight.
Seeing the standoff, Jennika signalled her intent to fire. Her battle cannon roared, hurling a pair of shells through the driving rain. They whipped past the Sword of Heroes and slammed into the Wyvorn Knight. The machine’s shield caught one of the shells, but the other struck the Knight dead centre. The Wyvorn machine reeled and slowed, before its pilot turned it and fled into the smoke.
‘…coward,’ voxed Jennika scornfully.
Luk’s Knight limped to a stop before them. Smoke and sparks billowed from its damaged hull. Amidst the hissing rain, Danial thought the Knight looked as though its shoulders were bowed in defeat.
‘…loody traitors!’ barked Markos, his channel open to Danial, Jennika and Luk. ‘What….you have to say for yourself, eh Tan Chim… ros? What’s the meani… of this madness?’ Markos’ Knight Warden took two pounding steps, moving around the Oath’s flank and raising its gatling cannon.
‘His entire House turns traito
… and you expect me to believe he doesn’t? Answer now, trait…r’s son, or I swear by the …aconsfire I’ll gun you down wh… you stand.’
‘Luk?’ voxed Danial. ‘Luk, what…?’
‘I don… know!’ said Luk, his voice flat and cold. Danial was shocked at the hate he heard there, but he also felt a worm of guilt at his own selfish relief; he couldn’t have lived with the personal betrayal of Luk turning traitor.
Markos’ pennants flashed up and down, swift, jerky motions.
[Engagement terminated.]
[Clarification needed.]
[Prisoner of war.]
Danial sighed in relief as Jennika’s pennants motioned her agreement, and Sword of Heroes powered its weapons down, lowering them in capitulation.
Jennika’s auto-pennants flickered again.
[Orders?]
Markos’ answer was simple, appearing through Danial’s sensorium in a series of still images.
[Form up.]
[Regroup.]
[Fight.]
Tolwyn’s voice cut through the screaming on the vox.
‘Knights. We are surrounded, outnumbered. The traitor Space Marines are here. If we stay and fight we will all be slain. I will not let our noble Houses be destroyed by heretics. We must break out of this trap, now! All Knights, mass on my signal if you can. If not, make for designated rally point Zeta-Lambda-Rho. Repeat, Zeta-Lambda-Rho.’
Retreat. The fight was lost, and even his father could not find any way to strike back against these traitors who had trampled their Knightly vows into the mud. Despite the metal god in which he rode, Danial felt helpless, impotent. Worst of all he felt betrayed anew, though he knew it wasn’t fair, this time by his own hero father. His hand went to the amulet that hung around his neck, and Danial whispered a bitter apology to one who had been more worthy of its blessings. He followed his father’s commands. With its boosted sensorium acting as a beacon, the Fyreheart was not hard to locate by auspex, even amongst the scrapcode storm. Turning Oath of Flame, Danial strode west through the battle to re-join his father.
