by Thorpe, Gav
More gingerly than the Armageddon veteran, she placed a foot on the lip of the entrance, turned and pushed back, expecting to lose her footing and plummet into the flames at any moment.
She felt the metal of the tube on her back and straightened as much as possible. Barely lifting her foot away, her exo-skeleton wheezing, the bars scraping metal as she moved, Ghelsa slid up her free foot, her arms braced to either side.
She looked up – Aszad nearly eclipsed the light from the grille at the top, almost at his destination.
‘All I’ve done today is climb things,’ Ghelsa muttered. Seven minutes and forty-eight seconds remained. Grunting with effort, she started to walk up the waste duct, her strides lengthening as her confidence grew.
CHAPTER 13
THE FINAL BATTLE BEGINS
There was little else Exasas could do except wait to see if Ghelsa vin Jaint and the improvised army of duluz and xenagia could prevail. It had been a significant risk, operating through the tech-priest Sushus-Gan, but circumstance had allowed no alternative.
Now he allowed herself to gradually seep out into the noosphere again, assembling a datafeed from a thousand tiny contacts. It took several seconds to establish coordinate links, but once Exasas-tactical was able to permeate the noospheric membrane of one of Olvatia’s coterie, the wider systems of the Imperator rose like glorious celebration lights before her.
What he discovered was discouraging. One of the Legio Fureans Reavers had returned from the pursuit of the Warhounds. Whether this was due to success or continuing failure was unknown. Two Legio Metalica Warlords – the Omnissiah’s Temper and Indomitable Guardian – had emerged from the storm and a furious battle raged to the left of the Casus Belli between the evenly matched forces. Void shields shimmered, battered with energy and shell by their opposing counterparts, while in the distance the traitor Reaver hurriedly returned, full power directed to its motive engines.
Exasas-secondary [theory]:
Exasas-primary:
A barrage of rockets soared across the desolate basin and engulfed one of the Tiger Eyes Titans in a cascade of fire and smoke. Flickers of purple void shield energy flared through the deluge. On the very edge of awareness, the Casus Belli hungered for action, infecting Exasas with warrior-thoughts.
Exasas-Secondary:
Exasas-tactical:
Exasas-primary:
Exasas-secondary:
The persona faded into near obscurity, leaving Exasas to monitor the ongoing battle.
Having realised that the Casus Belli would be of no assistance, the two Legio Metalica Warlords had closed together and merged shields. Their advance was slowed by the manoeuvre but they plodded onwards, attempting to bring their shorter-ranged and close-combat weaponry into action against the traitors.
The Legio Fureans pair split, breaking left and right to come at the faithful engines from both sides. This divided the Warlords’ fire, rendering half of their weapons useless unless they turned to focus on one of their attackers, which in turn would expose their backs to the other.
With the traitor Reaver still closing, the Legio Metalica god-machines turned back-to-back, each concentrating what fire they could on a circling Warlord. Doubtless they were desperately broadcasting reinforcement requests into the stormfront and hoping that more of the Legio would soon emerge before they were outclassed.
Merging the shields appeared to be working for the time being. Giving each Warlord in effect twelve void shields granted them time to repair overloaded generators before their full energy defences were overwhelmed. The overlapping domes of power and conflicting energy signals made it hard to discern exactly how many banks of shielding they had left, but Exasas estimated it was eight or nine.
With a burst of scintillating red, the Reaver unleashed the twin beams of its turbo-laser destructor. The paired pulse screeched across Casus Belli’s sensor array and struck the Warlords’ shield wall. Within the coruscating hemispheres, Exasas detected energy spikes that signified a double overload.
Six shields left, he decided, erring on the side of pessimism.
The edge of the storm not far behind the Imperator was a wall of blankness on the scanners, described in negative by the continual flickering of electromagnetic discharge. Exasas sifted through the data for any sign of approaching Titans – as no doubt the tech-priests in the czella were also. It was impossible to tell what was a storm strike and what might be the energy signature of a plasma reactor.
In the ongoing battle, it appeared that the two faithful princeps had decided to do as much damage to the enemy as possible before they succumbed to the inevitable superiority of their opponents. War sirens howling their resistance, they turned together, bringing their largest guns to bear on the incoming Reaver. Gatling blaster rounds screamed out from the Omnissiah’s Temper while its companion powered up a devastating shot from its plasma destructor. The simultaneous impacts enveloped the traitor Reaver in a hemisphere of blue fire, the cataclysmic energy surge blotting it from detection for several seconds. In the following moments the Indomitable Guardian broke from the Omnissiah’s Temper and turned to face directly towards the Legio Furean traitor.
In place of the czella command module, the Warlord had a centreline deathstrike cannon, the moderati and other command crew relocated in a special control tower mounted upon the carapace. The cannon, more properly suited to bombarding fortifications, erupted with a single blast of thunderous anger. Exasas tracked the shell’s progress via the Casus Belli’s detector screen, following its trajectory directly into the Reaver’s chest.
The detonation physically buckled the enemy Titan, causing it to step backwards, its princeps struggling to maintain balance. Burning oil fell like fiery blood from the gaping rent in the Reaver’s chest, a storm of sparks and the gleam of venting plasma lighting the wound from within, quickly blotted out by a pall of black smoke.
Exasas shared a moment of triumph with the Casus Belli as the magos saw through the Imperator’s artificial eyes the Reaver toppling sideways, its hip shearing away under the incredible torsion of its displaced weight. Another volley of gatling blaster fire raked into the carcass, thudding anti-tank shells into the head and exposed central cavity.
The sensation of achievement was short-lived. Excoriating las-fire from the remaining traitors surged across the Indomitable Guardian’s last void shield, the final beams of the salvo striking welts across the red-painted carapace. Exasas sensed the power build-up of a volcano cannon readying to fire, preparing an execution shot.
Princeps Udrasda of the Omnissiah’s Temper evidently judged the same. His Warlord surged forward, void shields crackling as the crew within called upon the miracles of the Machine-God to protect their engine.
The Omnissiah’s Temper interposed itself between the firing Warlord and the Indomitable Guardian as the volcano cannon snarled its deadly beam. Instead of punching through the head or reactor of the stricken Warlord, the beam of energy crashed against operati
onal void shields, its Titan-slaying power diverted into the warp for the relatively minor cost of another overloaded generator.
Two Warlords faced two Warlords, though the Legio Furean engines had restored most of their shields. Exasas’ thoughts returned to the absent traitor Reaver and the two Warhounds of the Legio Metalica. A circumspect analysis of the communication datalogs revealed nothing that could point to the fate of the other engines, and hence which, if any, might return to swing the balance of the ongoing battle.
Aszad crouched at the top of the trash channel, the grille pushed aside. He offered a hand and then withdrew it as Ghelsa hauled herself into the maintenance temple. The auxilia signalled for her to be quiet with a finger to his lips.
Ghelsa had never been inside such a place before. It was bedecked in friezes like much of the akropoliz, the images depicting manufacture and construction. She recognised several vistas from Metalica, though she had never been there. The immense domes of the Oraculuz of Delvi where immense defence satellites were constructed, the launch fields that sent them up to orbiting transporters a flat expanse the size of a small town beside them. A girder-wreathed tower was the forgeworks at Nyziroz, erected atop the summit of an active volcano, the lava channels down the slope flanked by machinery and forge-levy.
Among the artistry stood lines of benches laden with disassembled weapons, pieces of armour and cybernetics. Lascutters and sonic drills hung on racks alongside microforges on jointed legs, while from the ceiling drooped a profusion of cables ending in lenses, blades and equipment beyond Ghelsa’s interpretation.
They had emerged in a corner of the chamber, which connected to another via a broad archway whose lintel was inscribed with Metalican runes. Ghelsa could not read them, but assumed they were some prayer to the Omnissiah or a blessing of the Machine-God.
‘Nobody home,’ she said, remembering to keep her voice down all the same. ‘The climb wasn’t easy, but no obstacle for tunnel fighters. Why haven’t you come through this way before?’
‘We tried,’ Aszad said, and pointed towards the next chamber.
Through the legs of a bench just on the other side of the arch Ghelsa saw a grey mass. It took a few seconds for her to translate what she saw into two bodies, one atop the other. Blood had dried on the floor around them and there were splinter marks and craters on the far wall. Ghelsa’s mouth went dry and she found it difficult to swallow, her grip suddenly greasy on the multi-tool.
Aszad motioned for her to follow and scuttled crabwise away from the duct opening, using the bulk of a dormant generator for cover. Doubled over, Ghelsa followed. At the lieutenant’s prompting, she hazarded a glance over the generator, past the coils of wire and tubes on its top.
Through the arch was a chamber similar to the one they were in, an open security door in the far wall. She spied more xenagia corpses among the broken remains of half-complete repair projects and shattered tool boxes.
In front of the door stood a quadruped war engine, filling the space with its bulk, two heavy cannons on its shoulder mounts and a variety of bloodstained close-combat weapons protruding from around its armoured carapace. An assortment of detectors and lenses tracked slowly back and forth between the doorway and the maintenance chamber. She recognised it immediately.
‘That’s Magos Exasas’ battle-form.’
Aszad nodded.
‘I don’t know if it activated itself or was deliberately set up as a sentry, but it’s been guarding that door since the fighting spread into the akropoliz.’ The lieutenant pointed to an open furnace door on the right, the interior dark. ‘If we can get in there, the flue leads up another level.’
‘If your troopers couldn’t move fast enough, there’s no way I can,’ said Ghelsa. The tributai noticed more bodies in the corridor outside, swathed in the white coats of the skitarii. She shook her head. ‘No, I’ll never make it.’
She sat back on her haunches and turned, resting her back against the generator. As she was wont to do when thinking, she idly tapped a metal-tipped finger against her godplate. Between taps, she stopped, struck by a sudden intuition.
‘Do you think you could distract the battle-form long enough to allow me to get close to it?’
‘How close?’
‘Touching distance.’
Aszad shrugged, head tilted. ‘I don’t know. We didn’t try that – it would cut you in half the moment you were within reach.’
‘But can you get it to focus on you?’
‘I…’ Aszad thought about it for a few more seconds and shrugged again. ‘I think so. If you don’t have a weapon and I’m shooting at it, I’ll be a much greater threat. It might even think you’re a non-combatant.’
‘Or it might not…’ said Ghelsa. She moved to the left-hand side of the generator and pointed for Aszad to go right. ‘If this doesn’t work, promise me you’ll try to rescue the magos.’
‘I promise,’ said the lieutenant, though Ghelsa had no idea whether he meant it. ‘Go.’
The sight of flames licking along the left side of a traitor Warlord briefly lifted Exasas’ spirits until his focus returned to the parlous state of the Indomitable Guardian and Omnissiah’s Temper. They had only survived the last minutes through some deft work by their tech-priests and princeps, all but giving up any pretence of offensive action in return for additional power to the void shields and motive engines.
Working as a pair, one would remain stationary and fire at the flanking Warlords while the other retreated a short distance towards the storm. They would then exchange roles, with the other providing a modicum of covering fire for the withdrawal of their companion.
It was a false hope.
Exasas was a magos, not a princeps, but had been present at enough Titan battles to have analysed the most efficient tactics. It would be only a matter of time before the traitor princeps reacted to the lack of incoming fire and became bolder in their attack. Faced with more assertive opposition, the two loyal Warlords would have to either respond, requiring more weapons power, or simply wilt before the overbearing firepower that would be directed at them.
Even so, it seemed that the Tiger Eyes princeps were more concerned with cutting off the Warlords’ retreat than they were with their immediate destruction.
Exasas-tactical [theory]:
Exasas-secondary: [theory]
Exasas-primary:
Exasas-secondary [datalog]:
The data-packet directed Exasas’ attention to the long-range sensor scans. A plasma reading approached, still distant but unmistakably too significant for a Warhound. Whatever had transpired further into the mountains, the second Tiger Eyes Reaver was returning.
The uncertainty around the fate of the Warhounds swiftly became a near-zero probability of survival as more and more readings flowed into the Imperator’s sensor banks. Individual signals were too small for identification at this distance, but what was clear was that a large number of vehicles followed the returning Titan.
The Legio Fureans’ heretek-guard had landed and were en route to the battle.
Exasas-tactical expanded into control consciousness, directing awareness to a very local signal in the noosphere, shunting aside the battle-data. He had been monitoring the ongoing fight through the akropoliz as well as he was able given the secondary nature of the datafeed, but an incident not far from the main battery had triggered proximity interest.
A n
umber of augmentatii were being forced back by a concerted assault. Exasas-tactical was unable to get a direct feed from any of the battle-shielded alphas, the protocols rearranged by Olvatia’s command. Instead he had to rely on flickers of information from the Casus Belli’s internal monitoring system and occasional witness data from the emanations of unshielded tech-priests in the vicinity.
Further investigation suddenly ceased. At the same moment that Exasas felt the noospheric links rebounding towards her in a wave, he registered that the chronometer deadline had been met.
He was out of time.
In the main battery above, Mithras-4 sensed the intrusion of the magos’ noospheric aura. The connection severed almost immediately, but not before Exasas detected the backwash of an alarm pulse. The coded content was unknown, but from his contact earlier he was able to identify the destination: Olvatia.
Though the all-encompassing background thrum of the noosphere remained, it was as though a transparent curtain had been dropped across it, allowing sight but not touch.
Exasas-primary:
Exasas-tactical [imperative]:
Exasas dropped down from his precarious position, turning mid-air to land heavily on the uppermost level of the rampway. Minor damage shocks to his limbs shuddered through his system.
Below, the magazine shell doors ground open, the shadows of the augmentatii outside cast into the interior. Exasas shrank away from the edge, trying to avoid being seen while he extended his auditory sensors, hearing every footstep as the guard squad entered.
‘You have been judged heretek, Magos Exasas,’ the alpha declared, the modulated voice echoing up the hall. ‘Submit to immediate execution or suffer more prolonged torment. You have twenty seconds to comply.’
From the overlapping sound waves caused by the footfalls of the augmentatii, Exasas was able to estimate the position and progress of the firing squad. Four moved towards the base of the rampway and the rest spread around the inner vault casing, probably searching for the magos.
