by Thorpe, Gav
He withdrew his sensor tendrils as far as possible, not wishing a twitching antenna to betray his location. This came at the expanse of clarity, the tread of boots reduced to an omnidirectional sound. Constrained thermal registers detected only the presence of cybernetically altered humans within the chamber, nothing more detailed.
In minutes they would find her and kill her.
Ghelsa hurried forward on all fours, moving from bench to bench to keep out of sight of the battle-form. Even so, she heard the whirr of its servos as it turned into the room, the thud of one foot adjusting position as non-visual sensors detected her presence. A growing whine reminded her of an overheating power cell and she realised it was the phosphor serpenta warming up.
A snapping noise announced Aszad’s diversionary shots, the red flare of lasbeams reflected from the metal surfaces all around Ghelsa. Pushing up into a crouch, she moved closer.
A rapid thunder accompanied the battle-form returning fire. The billow of flames lit the chamber behind Ghelsa and she hurried forward, feeling the wash of heat on the back of her neck.
Scuttling left as best as her exo-skeleton allowed, the tributai moved closer, trying not to picture the gleaming power blades and whirring chain-weapons that would lash out to meet her.
A bass throb heralded a salvo of fire from the macrostubber, followed swiftly by the ring of punctured metal and shattering glass. Still the tinny zip of Aszad’s lasgun kept up a slow but steady rhythm, assuring her that the duct-fighter was still alive.
She eased herself under a desk not far from the doorway, her eyes fixed on the plated armoured shapes of the battle-form just in front of her, its clawed feet clanging on the floor as it repositioned again.
Ghelsa waited, struck by a sudden doubt. There was nothing to even suggest her plan would work.
Nothing better suggested itself and, now that she was committed, she had no choice but to follow through.
Suppressing a shout, she launched herself out from under the desk, bare feet clinking through discarded shell casings. A red-lensed sensor swung towards her. She ducked beneath it, arms outstretched, and threw herself at the battle-form’s armoured flank.
Hands slapping on cold metal, she pushed her head against its metal skin, offering up a silent prayer to the Machine-God to guide her thoughts to the spirit of the battle-form.
As her godplate touched metal she felt the surge of noospheric connection, and in the next moment was dragged into the angular thought mechanisms of the battle-form’s residual persona.
Ghelsa-tributai [imperative]:
Exasas-local [inquiry]:
Ghelsa-tributai [datalog]
Exasas-local:
With a gasp, Ghelsa rolled away, almost falling to the floor in relief. Steadying herself against a charred bench top, she looked back into the other chamber, seeking Aszad. The battle-form’s fire had trailed ruin across most of the maintenance hall. Flames licked from severed gas lines and sparks fizzed from broken wires while pools of chemicals bubbled and hissed from broken crucibles and vats.
She saw the top of a head poke hesitantly over the bullet-riddled remains of a kastelan’s shoulder plate that had been upturned as a shield.
Wide-eyed, Aszad stood up, lasgun in hand.
‘How did you do that?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Can you contact your troops?’
‘Do I look like I have a voxcaster?’
Ghelsa was painfully aware of time passing. Two minutes and three seconds remained until Exasas’ unauthorised noospheric link would be discovered.
‘What would you call it when you’re ordered to accompany someone and defend them at all costs?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Aszad. ‘Personal protection detail, I think. It’s not the sort of mission you give a tunnel fighter.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of you,’ said Ghelsa, and she pressed her brow against the battle-form.
A sudden burst of fire rang up the magazine walls, accompanied by the unique detonation signatures of phosphor rounds. Exasas flinched, expecting to be engulfed in fire, but his temperature sensors indicated the impacts were not in his locality.
Arc rifles buzzed in response, accompanied by shouts of anger and a highly distinctive zip of lasgun fire.
Lasguns were not standard issue of the augmentatii.
Edging towards the rim of the rampway, keeping as low as possible, Exasas extended a solitary visual sensor over the boundary of the platform.
Three of the traitor soldiers were scattered bloodily across the floor, body parts still burning. More phosphor rounds and a blaze of macrostubber bullets flashed into the magazine from outside the doors, immolating and shredding two more augmentatii. A stab of lasgun fire hit a third in the shoulder as the augmentatii returned fire with a radium carbine.
Another deadly salvo raked through the survivors, impacts from the macrostubber chasing the last of the augmentatii until it caught her at the bottom of the ramp, tearing through coat and armour. Punctured with bullet wounds, the augmentatii managed to cling to existence for a few seconds more, crawling upwards, propelled by her last incoming command, until a final zap of arc-rifle fire finished her off.
Exasas was surprised to see his warskin clatter into view, smoke issuing from the muzzles of its guns, close-combat weapons buzzing and gleaming. Surprise became shock at the sight of a human riding on its back. She was dark-skinned, encased in the struts of a full metaphysical exo-skeletal frame.
He recognised the tributai – Ghelsa vin Jaint. Behind her came a xenagia officer, his lasgun sweeping across the downed augmentatii, wary of any survivors.
‘They are all dead,’ announced Exasas-tactical, uncoiling his bodyform to its full extent. He lifted an appendage over the edge of the ramp to attract their attention. ‘No life signs detected.’
‘Praise the Machine-God,’ called out Ghelsa vin Jaint. ‘You’re still alive.’
She jumped down from the back of the warskin and started towards the ramp. The warskin followed just a few steps behind, weapons poised. The duct-fighter moved back to the doorway, leaning out to check that all was well.
Exasas raced down to meet them, almost losing his footing on the slope. Ghelsa vin Jaint waited at the bottom, rifling through the augmentatii dead, plucking spare energy cells to reload her arc rifle. As he neared the warskin it reared up like a hunting arachnid, poised to attack.
‘Stand down,’ said Ghelsa vin Jaint, patting it lightly on the flank. The warskin… relaxed? Exasas had never seen such a thing. He tried to contact it via the noosphere but the blocker was still in place.
‘We need to create lateral distance from the origin of the noospheric interference,’ Exasas-primary told the tributai.
‘Follow us,’ she replied, glancing at the Armageddon officer and receiving a nod of affirmation.
Together they moved out into the corridor and turned left, with the tunnel soldier leading the way, Ghelsa vin Jaint and the warskin just behind. Exasas pulsed connection signals to his battle component and could feel the break of static lessening, but it was not until they reached the corpse-littered conveyor hall next to the magazine that he was able to make a full connection.
The first sensation was recognition from the warskin. Exasas slipped aside the personal protection command installed by Ghelsa vin Jaint and partitioned Exasas-tactical to take control. Even as the warskin turned and segmented open to allow the magos to enter, his noospheric awareness synchronised fully with the systems of the Casus Belli.
At the touch of the Machine-God’s breath, Exasas’ thoughts ascended.
Exponential dataflow coursed through his systems, appraising her of all that had happened in the ongoing Titan battle and the fighting within the Imperator. The data was intoxicating after he had been cut off from its direct flow, and Exasas released excited puffs of bacteriophagal incense. Compared to raw audio, tactile and visu
al stimuli, the noosphere was a light of the heavens shining down into his systems.
Outside, a Reaver loyal to the Legio Metalica had arrived from the storm, its presence enough to drive away the two renegade Warlords. In the face of the continued abstention of the Casus Belli and the incoming full skitarii battle group, the Iron Skulls princeps faced a hard choice – remain to fight or retreat into the storm. To do the first seemed suicidal, but to enact the second would abandon the rest of the battle group to the waiting traitors. Flashes of communication between the Titans indicated the continuing debate.
Exasas-secondary:
Within the Casus Belli the news was equally disheartening. Although the shock of the duluz uprising had carried into the akropoliz, the roused workers were simply no match for the trained, coordinated squads of augmentatii and skitarii that faced them. Just as with the Heretic Astartes’ assault, the defenders of the Imperator were linking up and systematically clearing each level of the akropoliz.
‘Dominus,’ said the Armageddon veteran – identified as Lieutenant Aszad of the Second Defence Platoon – touching a hand to his brow as he approached the tech-priest. ‘Major Dazi’s forces are holding well but need support. We need more guns on our side. Can you resume command of your skitarii?’
Exasas tried to make contact with the closest alpha, but Olvatia’s protocols had modified their axonic signals so that they did not recognise the former magos dominus’ impulses.
‘At present, I cannot,’ the magos confessed. He saw Ghelsa vin Jaint and Aszad sag with disappointment. ‘That does not mean it is a zero-probability phenomenon. I need physical contact with a living alpha to regrade the security pathways. Then I will be able to restore the former command protocols and resume control.’
‘A living alpha?’ Aszad scratched his stubbled chin in thought. ‘Right. Wait here.’
Slinging his lasgun across his back, the tunnel fighter opened a narrow maintenance grille in the wall between the conveyor shafts. Like an arboreal mammal, he shinned up the cables within and disappeared out of sight.
Exasas-secondary [datalog]:
Exasas-primary:
A sudden outflux of data into the noosphere shivered through Exasas. It felt like razor-sharp blades through his soul, slashing across the circuits of the Casus Belli to infect every system. The sensation was of a billion fragments breaking apart and then reassembling, but not in quite the same construction. Power lines that had been left dormant by the exodus from the lower decks suddenly thrummed into new life. Autoloaders clanked into action and gun turrets moved like a pugilist flexing their muscles before a bout.
Exasas-tactical:
One by one all twelve of the void shield generators came online, the crackle of their activation heard as well as felt. All across the Casus Belli, slaved servitors and their tech-priest attendants were succumbing to the infiltrating codewave.
A tangible shudder announced the motive engines firing as plasma again coursed through the great conduits of the reactor.
Exasas could feel the spirit of the Casus Belli, like a distant moan of frustration and pain.
Exasas-primary [theory]:
Exasas-secondary [rhetorical]:
Exasas-tactical:
Metal knuckles rang on the shell of Exasas’ warskin. He detected Ghelsa vin Jaint on the left-hand side, staring up at the cluster of detector appendages. She looked concerned.
‘What is happening, magos?’ the tributai asked. ‘Why is the Casus Belli coming alive without crew?’
‘I am analysing the situation,’ replied Exasas. ‘A foreign spirit has been introduced to the Imperator to override normal protocols.’
The ring of a bell announced the arrival of a conveyor. Both magos and tributai turned towards the door with weapons raised.
The shutter slid back to reveal Lieutenant Aszad, a white-coated figure slumped on the floor at his feet. Exasas detected fresh wounds on the tunnel fighter’s face and bloodstains on his clothing that had not been present when he departed.
‘One alpha, as requested,’ he said, rolling the inert figure from the conveyor with his foot.
Exasas examined the unconscious squad leader and identified him as Alpha 4-Ajax. He peeled apart the warskin and flopped out, his manipulators turning the alpha over and pulling down the soldier’s hood to expose the physical sockets in the base of his skull. Exasas slid a data-spike into the opening, elicting a gasp from the squad leader as he interfaced directly with the alpha’s cortical network.
#identify#magosdominuscommandvalveopen#magosdominuscommandvalvearticulate#replotmagosdominusprotocolcommand#identify#
Withdrawing the spike, Exasas moved the squad leader to a sitting position and wheezed a cloud of invigorating incense. Bionic eyelids clicked open and the natural organs within took a moment to focus. Bright blue eyes fixed upon the magos.
‘Dominus…’ muttered the alpha. A sudden expression of dread marred his young features and he fell forward to his knees, pressing his forehead against the deck. ‘Forgiveness, dominus, for I have transgressed your authority.’
‘Forgiveness is delivered,’ said Exasas, and he laid a tendril-limb upon the alpha’s shoulder. ‘The malignancy is Magos Olvatia’s – you had no choice but to obey. Stand.’
The alpha regained his feet and looked around as though seeing Lieutenant Aszad and Ghelsa vin Jaint for the first time. It was standard protocol-induced amnesia, activated to prevent recollection of previous orders in the event of… in the event of someone doing exactly what Exasas wanted to do.
‘I need you to become a broadcast hub for me, Alpha 4-Ajax.’
‘Of course, Dominus, I am willing to lay my spirit aside for your victory.’
Alpha 4-Ajax turned around, exposing his neck-sockets again. Exasas physically synchronised once more, but this time, rather than imparting code, he archive-stripped everything from the alpha, hollowing out his personality and soul. In its place the magos inloaded a loop broadcast program of the data-packet he had transferred to break Olvatia’s protocol wall. The last thing he imparted before withdrawing the data-spike was a constant-motion imperative, which sent the alpha towards the stairwell at the end of the hall.
Ghelsa vin Jaint and Lieutenant Aszad watched the alpha stride away.
‘What did you do, dominus?’ asked the tributai.
‘He has become a beacon for me,’ Exasas answered, trying to choose the correct words to convey the complex noospheric process he had just initiated. ‘A recruitment algorithm that will spread to all of my former skitarii and replicate itself. I am confident that within fifteen minutes my surviving soldiers will have been returned to my command.’
They felt the akropoliz lurch as the Casus Belli took a first stride.
‘I don’t think we have fifteen minutes, dominus,’ said Lieutenant Aszad. ‘We’ll all be dead by then.’
Exasas-tactical:
Exasas-secondary:
Exasas [affirmative]
‘Rally such troops as you can, lieutenant. I will do my best to coordinate the reawakening skitarii with your actions. It is a priority that we force access to the antae so that we can disable the command crew.’
‘Ghelsa, you should stick…’ Lieutenant Aszad did not finish what he was saying, because Ghelsa vin Jaint was no longer present. Their attention was drawn to a clank of chains as the nearest conveyor shutter closed. A moment later engines whined into action and the cage disappeared.
‘Where do you think she’s going?’ muttered the tunnel fighter.
‘Unknown, lieutenant. Perhaps she has experienced too much trauma and wishes to avoid further conflict. She is tributai, after all, not skitarii or xenagia. She was created to serve the Machine-God as a mechanic, not a warrior.’
CHAPTER 14
SERVANTS OF THE MACHINE-GOD
Not quite sure what she was going to do, or where she was going, Ghelsa rode the conveyor down several levels of the akropoliz. She switched out the power cell of her arc rifle as Aszad had shown her. Her knowledge of the layout was patchy, most of it gathered during her flight with Harkas. And for most of that she had been more concerned with staying alive than with studying floor plans.
The atmosphere of the Casus Belli had changed, and not just in perception as when she had fled into the downdecks earlier. For a start, through her awakened noospheric circuit she had a greater awareness of the Imperator’s soul pressing around her like the weight of a mountain. Even though she did not touch it directly, she could feel its energy coursing through every system, carried in thought the same way energy was carried in electricity from the plasma reactor.
Beyond that, she could also feel that there was something tainted in the machine-spirit. Like a blot of oil on a uniform, it was seeping into the weave of the Casus Belli’s soul. Ghelsa was not sure how she could know this except to believe that the Imperator was reaching out, sharing its pain with any mind that would listen.
