Part 34 (1/2)
Maven cried out as he saw his brother Knight stagger, but before the enemy machine could finish its work, Cronus surged forwards and darted into the smoke.
*Its voids are too tough!' shouted Cronus, his pain obvious even over the vox-link. *Our weapons won't overload them!'
His comrade-in-arms had left himself dangerously exposed by coming to Maven's aid, but their two-p.r.o.nged a.s.sault had forced the enemy to dance to their tune, and they would never get a better chance to take it down.
*Get ready!' he replied. *We've got it where we want it!'
Faced with two enemies, the machine had backed against the cliffs of the valley, seeking to minimise the directions from which it could be attacked.
Just as Maven knew it would.
It was a standard, textbook manoeuvre.
Maven disengaged the auto-targeters and said, *You know the drills, but you don't have the skills,' and opened fire once more.
Instead of aiming for the machine, his gunfire tore into the rock walls above it, and a torrent of gigantic boulders fell in a thunderous avalanche from the cliffs, smas.h.i.+ng into the upper vectors of the machine's s.h.i.+elds. Blooming explosions of light rippled from the machine, its voids screaming in protest, but still, impossibly, holding.
*Now, Cronus!' shouted Maven, pus.h.i.+ng his wounded mount to its feet and charging his foe with a feral cry of battle-l.u.s.t He opened up with his cannon, hammering the machine's upper s.h.i.+elds. Even through the tumbling, roaring avalanche of rock and dust, the machine saw him coming and turned its guns on Equitos Bellum, just as Pax Mortis loomed from the smoke and joined its fire with that of Maven's mount.
Already struggling to withstand the rain of debris falling from the cliff, the machine's s.h.i.+eld-emitters finally gave way under the concentrated fire of the two Knights.
Its voids exploded outwards in a blinding blast wave, tearing the metallic weapon dendrites from its back and vaporising its left arm in a thunderous detonation. Smoke and sparks of jetting energy spewed from the machine's ruptured flanks and its sensor blisters flickered madly, as though unable to comprehend how it had been hurt.
It rocked back, stunned and screaming in garbled bursts of binary that sliced over the Manifold and blew several of the augmitters inside Maven's c.o.c.kpit.
Maven rode through the billowing clouds of rock dust, seeing the spherical form of his long-sought-for enemy ahead of him. It was mortally wounded, but still had some fight left in it. Maven didn't give it a chance and drove the full four metres of his energised war blade through its frontal section.
Its death scream shrieked in a pitiful wail of agonised binary, but Maven twisted his blade in the wound until at last its cries ceased and the light of its sensor blisters was extinguished.
Letting out a pent-up breath of battle fury and pain, Maven stepped back from the destroyed machine, feeling an overwhelming sense of closure as he stood over the sh.e.l.l of his defeated enemy. The pain from his psychostigmatic wounds diminished and Maven smiled as he felt Equitos Bellum's satisfaction wash through him in a rush of approval.
The essence of what made a Knight such a fearsome war machine moved through his battered flesh to ease his suffering, filling his body and rus.h.i.+ng along his aching limbs.
Too late, Maven felt the soul of his mount surge to the fore, the soothing balm that eased his pain wielding him as though he were the mount and it the rider. He felt the raw, ferocious heart of his machine, the terrifying power that lurked in the heart of the Manifold, take control of his limbs and turn Equitos Bellum towards the scar in the earth where the targets of the enemy machine had taken cover.
Through the blown-out c.o.c.kpit gla.s.s, Maven saw a Mechanic.u.m Protector, leading a slightly built woman with eyes that shone with a golden light towards him. A red cloak billowed at the shoulders of the Protector, who carried a weapon stave hung with the number grid symbol of Koriel Zeth. Behind them was a short, robed man who knelt beside the p.r.o.ne form of what looked like a tonsured menial.
Maven heard heavy footfalls as Pax Mortis moved alongside him and tried to speak to Cronus, but the elemental force of the Manifold held him tightly in its grip.
The woman approached the wounded Knight and before he knew what was happening, Equitos Bellum dropped to one knee and bowed its head to her. Without looking, he knew his battle-brother's Knight had done likewise.
She reached out and Maven felt warmth infuse every molecule of his hybrid existence of flesh and steel with newfound purpose and vitality. He felt the warmth of the woman's touch through the sh.e.l.l of his mount, and gasped as trembling vibrations spread through its armoured frame of plasteel and ceramite.
*Machine, heal thyself,' she said.
3.05.
NIGHT WAS FALLING across the Magma City, though darkness never really came to the glowing, orange-lit metropolis. Like a scene from the ancients' visions of the underworld, Adept Zeth's forge was bathed in the fires of battle as the forces of the Dark Mechanic.u.m pounded her walls with vortex missiles and collapsed the outer bastions with graviton cannons.
The city was being torn apart with mechanistic precision and, within hours, the forces under the command of Amba.s.sador Melgator a who watched the unfolding destruction from beneath his dark pavilion at the end of the Typhon Causeway a would have seized their prize for the Fabricator General.
The city was doomed and there was only one order left to give.
Deus Tempestus strode through the twisted, blackened remains of what had once been an armaments factory. Fires and small explosions still popped and flamed beneath the Warlord's mighty tread, but Princeps Cavalerio paid them no mind. Such things were irrelevant to a being of his stature. Only Aeschman's host of Tempestus skitarii following behind his battlegroups needed to concern themselves with such matters.
The full strength of Tempestus marched from the shelter of the Magma City, the cobalt blue of their armour and the fluttering honour banners gloriously bright against the brooding skies and fire-blackened rubble they marched through.
Leading from the centre, Deus Tempestus took up position behind a tangle of twisted iron columns and girders that had once been the structure of the largest sheet metal fabrication plant in Tharsis, but which now resembled a ma.s.s of razorwire.
On Cavalerio's right was Princeps Sharaq's battle group, Metallus Cebrenia leading the Warhounds Astrus Lux and Raptoria into battle. Princeps Lamnos and Kasim marched their smaller engines to either side of the larger Reaver, and Cavalerio raised his volcano cannon in salute of his brave warriors.
To his immediate left towered the mighty Warlord Tharsis Hastatus, under Princeps Suzak, while further out was Princeps Mordant's Reaver, Arcadia Fortis, with the das.h.i.+ng Princeps Basek's Warhound, Vulpus Rex, in support.
Once again, Cavalerio acknowledged his warriors as they took up position in the ruins of the outer sub-hives.
*All princeps, Manifold conference,' he said.
One by one, the flickering images of his brother princeps appeared before Cavalerio and he was gratified to see only the hunger for battle in their faces. Each was eager to take the fight to Mortis, despite there only being one possible outcome to the battle. For a moment he wished he still fought as they did. Then, he smiled at the foolishness of such a desire, for who could not wish to be as connected to such a mighty engine as Deus Tempestus in such a complete and total manner as he was.
*Brothers, this is the most dreadful and most glorious moment of our lives,' he said. *I'm not normally given to sentiment, but if the day of our deaths doesn't warrant a little melodrama, then I don't know what does.'
Cavalerio saw a few wry smiles and said, *The credo of Tempestus is that the manner of our deaths is at least as important as the manner of our lives. Today we will show these Mortis dogs what it means to feel the wrath of our Legio. It has been an honour to fight alongside you all over the years, and it is a privilege to lead you in this last march. May the light of the Omnissiah guide you.'
His brothers solemnly acknowledged his words with binaric glows of pride, but it was left to Princeps Kasim to give fleshvoice to the feelings of the Legio.
*The honour is ours, Stormlord,' said Kasim.
Cavalerio smiled as he saw the gleam of the gold skull and cog medallion he had given the man after the Epsiloid Binary Cl.u.s.ter wars.
*Good hunting, everyone,' said Cavalerio, and closed the link.
Despite their blooding in the initial fighting around the Magma City, Princeps Camulos could not ignore such a blatant challenge, and Cavalerio's auspex filled with returns as Legio Mortis marched through the smoke and fire to meet them. Swarming around each engine were thousands of Mortis skitarii, fearsome, skull-visaged warriors of terrible reputation.
The Tempestus skitarii, led by the indomitable Zem Aeschman, the scarred hero of Nemzal Reach, marched out to meet them, outnumbered at least four to one. To go into an engine fight required great courage, but to march into battle beneath such a t.i.tanic conflict demanded fearlessness only such enhanced warriors could boast.
*Multiple engine signatures,' said Sensori Palus, and Cavalerio acknowledged the inload, putting Aeschman's skitarii from his mind. The gargantuan form of Aquila Ignis led the Mortis engines, a row of three twisted Warlords marching in front of it like a skirmish screen. On both flanks, two Reavers circled wide.
*They only outnumber us by one engine,' said Cavalerio. *That's not so bad, eh?'
*Yes, my princeps,' said Moderati Kuyper. *It's just a shame they outgun us so heavily.'
Watching the Mortis deployment, Cavalerio said, *They're being cautious. None of them dare stray too far from their big brother.'
*And who can blame them?'
*They're afraid of us,' said Cavalerio. *They're still thinking of what we did to them in the opening ambush and they're scared we've got another trick like that up our sleeves.'