by Nick Kyme
Galdron shut off his main engines. Inside his helm, runes blipped between colours as his strike fighter became nigh invisible.
Proximity warnings chimed in the quiet as the asteroid drift swallowed his strike fighter. A vast chunk of grey rock and ice spun past him. He let his mind fall into a slow pattern of anticipation and action. Hours of this dance lay ahead.
Argonis waited, head bowed as the doors of the throne room sealed. Behind him, he was aware of the lingering presence of Maloghurst standing in the shadows. Around him the emptiness echoed. Only minutes before it had been filled with captains, shipmasters, and commanders of every part of the Warmaster’s forces. Now it was as though they had never been.
‘You are wondering why I summoned you, Argonis?’
Horus turned from a viewport, through which he had been watching the blackness and stars beyond. The starlight was weak, and gave more shadows to his face than illumination. The beast pelt draped across his shoulders seemed marked by frost, and the gold and black of his armour was a sketch in the gloom.
The Warmaster’s right hand seemed to be holding something small and so black that the light did not touch it. He reached out and dropped the small, dark shape onto the top of a pillar set before the viewport. It looked like a red pearl. Whatever it was, it hit the black iron of the pillar’s top with a deep note that hung in the air. Argonis tasted blood on his lips, and for a moment he wanted to shout with rage at the turn of fate that had led him to where he was standing and what he was. Then his eyes moved from the red pearl, and both feeling and taste vanished.
Horus was looking at him, eyes dark and unblinking.
‘Great events are only great because they are witnessed,’ said the Warmaster, ‘and today, Argonis, I have chosen you as my witness.’
‘By your will, my lord.’
‘So meek? I remember you with more fire in your spit, Argonis, or did your penance rob you of that quality?’
‘I will never fail you again, my lord.’
‘No. You will not.’ The shadows seemed to crawl across Horus’ face for an instant. Argonis felt his muscles and gut tense, as though for a blow. ‘But you served me well at Tallarn, and you will do so again on other worlds, all the way from here to the Gates of Terra.’
‘You honour me, my lord.’
‘Honour?’ said Horus coldly. ‘No, I do not honour you, Argonis. I use you. You are a weapon, and a valuable one, but a weapon nonetheless. And weapons are only as useful as what they can help destroy.’
Argonis remained silent. The lights of warships came into sight beyond the viewport. Farther out, dozens of other vessels were already burning hard to reach their positions.
‘You have questions as to this campaign,’ said Horus. ‘I could see them on your face during the war council.’
‘I know your orders. I have nothing that requires an answer, my lord.’
‘But you still would like answers, would you not? Questions are like that – they make one unsatisfied until they are replaced by fact. Come, ask what you will.’
‘Why did you send an emissary to Accazzar-Beta? The scout and intelligence reports were already clear that Myrmidax Kadith and his magi would not comply. Why make the demand of fealty at all?’
‘Because I needed a reason for ships to enter the system and then seem to leave. Because I had to give Myrmidax Kadith something to focus on while other wheels turned around him.’
Argonis saw it then, opening in his mind like the fingers of a reaching hand.
‘The emissary was never going to succeed, or survive.’
‘As I said, Argonis, weapons are only as useful as what they can help destroy.’
Horus smiled for the first time. Argonis felt ice run down his spine. The Warmaster placed his hand on Argonis’ shoulder and gestured to the dark before the throne.
Cones of hololithic light unfolded in the air. Maps of a star system, battle pict-feeds and tactical projections spun into being in front of Argonis’ eyes.
‘Come, my son,’ said Horus. ‘Watch, and listen.’
Myrmidax Kadith sat alone in the forge temple. Not that he was ever truly alone. A web of noospheric data connected him to each of the other lords magos who were scattered across the planet’s surface, and through them to every machine and subsystem controlled by them. He also maintained vox and data-links to the seneschals of each of the three Knight houses who came under his control. Through this lattice of interface, he commanded rings of defence platforms and system defence craft spread between Accazzar-Beta and its three moons. On the surface, hundreds of Knights, thousands of automata and millions of skitarii moved to his will.
To another being it might have seemed as though he wielded the power of a god, but Kadith had been born on Mars, and seen the true majesty of what knowledge and machine could encompass. He was still just a component, no matter how high he sat in the hierarchy of the Mechanicum. And his function in the situation that faced him was as a creator of destruction.
Kadith contemplated the calculation. The orbital defences were already prepared. The system ships held close to the planet to counter Horus’ forces if they broke through. The balance of probability was that the assault would fail.
Accazzar-Beta was not a forge world, but for the purposes of facing down an invader it was perhaps an even harder prospect for conquest. It was a Mechanicum staging world, a grand warehouse for materiel destined for other parts of the Imperium. It had more military resource than most star clusters, and its defences were enough to turn back a crusade fleet. With it readied for battle, Kadith had the statistical advantage. He just needed to ensure that he missed no relevant factors.
‘What do you see?’ asked Horus.
Argonis stood at the centre of the shifting hololiths.
‘Battle Group Castus in position…’
‘Come about to six by three by twenty-four…’
‘Readying batteries…’
‘Primary targets locked…’
‘Full assault readiness confirmed…’
Voices came out of the dark at him, snatches of vox chatter, orders from ship captain to ordnance officers, the muttered oaths of Legion warriors as they waited in the bellies of gunships.
In front of him he saw the planet and its moons flicker at the heart of the holo projections. Beside it was the pict-feed from the nose of a drop-ship as it slid from a launch bay into the void. It changed as he tried to focus on it, skipping to the view within a gunnery chamber, then to a magnified view of Accazzar-Beta’s largest moon.
‘I see…’ began Argonis. ‘I am not sure what I see.’
‘Yes,’ said Horus. ‘It is a lot to take in. The temptation is to pull out, to sort it into neat levels of importance. But that is a mistake. Look again.’
‘I see…’ said Argonis, his mind trying to find a pattern in the deluge of data even as he fought to stop it.
‘What you are looking at is the beginning of a spiral of cause and effect.’
Horus gestured, and an image of the space around Accazzar-Beta grew in size before them. Glowing lines and dots picked out where mines and stellar debris clogged the planet’s orbits. Two clear channels cut through the drifts. Great star fortresses marked the openings of both channels. Within t
he enclosure formed by the drifts of mines, more space stations turned above the surface of the planet. Squadrons of system defence ships held position around the stations.
‘Formidable, is it not? And, from a certain point of view, impossible to take without a long siege, and the loss of vast resources.’
‘Not to you, my lord.’
‘True,’ said Horus, ‘but that is not what you want to say, is it?’
‘Why are you doing this?’ asked Argonis.
‘The right question, but still not what you wanted to say.’ Horus glanced at him, a smile forming in the shadows of his face. ‘Go on, my son. Ask.’
‘How can it be done, my lord?’
Horus nodded, pride bright in his eyes, though if it were for his son or himself was not clear.
‘Let me show you.’
A gesture and the hololiths reconfigured. The clatter of data transmissions and the rasping voice of intercepted communications boomed out from hidden vox-speakers.
‘Course correction…’
‘Time estimated to outer sensor range…’
‘Coming to full burn in…’
Above them a sphere of projected light filled the dark. Red lines painted moons, cold blues the planet, and pinpricks of light the position of ships and defences.
‘Their defences are ready,’ said Horus. ‘Thanks to my emissary, they know we are coming. Myrmidax Kadith commands them, and he is a priest of war in the cult of the Machine-God. He is experienced, intelligent and ruthless. He does not make mistakes. In this battle he stands on the other side of these events, and what is about to happen exists between him and me alone. If destruction is a child, we are its parents.’
The ship trembled beneath Argonis’ feet. On the projection he saw a swarm of green ship runes thrust towards an opening in a cloud of red defence markers.
‘Enemy defences arming,’ called a bridge officer into the vox.
A sheet of imagery opened beside the battle projection. Weapons platforms loomed above Argonis and the Warmaster. Gun barrels the size of Titans pivoted to find their targets. Missile batteries unfolded like seed pods.
‘Their outer defences see the bulk of our fleet coming fast at the sunward channel,’ said Horus.
‘Enemy defences are ready to fire.’
The image of the defence guns flickered. Weapon barrels glowed red, then yellow, then white. Gas vented from cooling towers. Horus was watching it all, his eyes bright.
‘And a chain of simple consequence begins…’
‘Enemy defences firing!’
The image of the turrets blanked to white and then vanished. Another took its place. Argonis saw a lattice of light reaching across the dark towards the ships strung out before it. Shields flared and collapsed. Armour ripped from hulls. Gas and fire bled into the black.
The fleet fired back. Macro-cannon rounds slammed into weapons platforms and tore them to fragments. Turbo-lasers sliced through defence ships as they thrust forwards. Spheres of wreckage and fire bubbled across the void.
‘But the most important reaction begins within the enemy’s mind…’
On the battle projection the idents of ships and defences began to flash. Data spiralled around the dead and the dying. Markers and runes blinked out.
‘As the first shots are fired, a spiral of questions starts to form in Myrmidax Kadith’s thoughts…’
Horus stepped closer to the holo, eyes fixed on the battle projection. The display zoomed closer. The markers of ships became projections of their hulls, all wrapped with tactical data. The view closed, sweeping past the fleet and down the channel in the defences.
‘Kadith begins with the obvious question – what is really happening?’
The view spun, and now they were looking from behind the red lattice of the defences. The second channel lay to their right, the glitter of the unfolding engagement to their left. Above, one of Accazzar-Beta’s moons rolled through its orbit.
‘He looks further…’
The view dived down the open channel, the images of star forts and defence ships blinking past.
‘He looks deeper…’
The sheet of empty space opened before them. Argonis had the sensation of floating even though he was standing still.
‘And he finds an answer…’
‘Secondary fleet entering enemy sensor range,’ called the bridge officer.
Luminous shapes came out of the dark. First one, then another, and another, until the Warmaster’s second fleet filled the space. They fired as they came on. The defences around the second channel began to blink out.
Horus nodded to himself.
‘That answer prompts another question to Kadith…’
The projection snapped and zoomed out so that the planet, its defences, its moons and the two attacking fleets filled the cone of light.
‘What is the real threat? he asks…’
The explosions ringed the second fleet as it cut towards the planet.
‘But the simple answer does not satisfy him…’
The view swung again, and the fleet closing on the first channel was now all around them, its ships looming large.
‘What if the attack by the second fleet is not the true threat?’
The first of the Warmaster’s fleets was almost in the mouth of the channel now. The guns of the star fortress guarding its throat began to speak. The explosions churned the vacuum. Values of damage and loss began to glow orange amongst the green ships.
‘What if there is more than brute firepower and the roar of guns to take account of?’
The view spiralled through the fleet, flitting from ship to ship.
‘He knows that I am here…’
The view found a single ship and locked on to it.
‘He knows that I will be anticipating him…’
The projected image swelled into being before them. It was the Vengeful Spirit.
‘So he focuses on the first direction of attack, and wonders what I am thinking and doing. But he is running out of time…’
‘Fleets entering sunward and edgeward channels,’ called an officer.
The shapes of weapons platforms loomed large in the pict views. The fire grew, white and orange beating against Argonis’ eyes.
‘So a choice becomes a necessity…’
‘Enemy reserve fleet moving from high orbit to sunward channel.’
The view snapped to dozens of ships breaking from their position above the planet. They shot towards the engagement in the mouth of the sunward channel.
‘And now true battle is joined.’
Orange and red blurred the projection, faster even than Argonis’ eyes or mind could follow. Ships fired, and dissolved in holo-smoke as they died. The deck was vibrating beneath his feet, and he could hear the Vengeful Spirit adding her voice to the roar of battle.
‘Taking direct fire,’ shouted an enginseer from across the bridge. ‘Void shields are holding.’
Sparks fell from the ceiling above. The images of battle were a blur of movement, and the blink of thousands dying in the gap between heartbeats.
‘Kadith is good,’ said Horus. ‘He has stopped thinking about his choice, stopped thinking about whether it was right. He is committed, and so he focuses only on the reality of the battle…’
‘Breaching party advancing…’
‘Heavy resistance!’
‘Taking fire!’
‘Reactor output falling…’
‘There are too many!’
‘But he has already made two mistakes…’ said Horus.
Argonis saw the runes on the display blink to warning amber as the Warmaster’s main fleet entered optimal firing range of the enemy star fortress.
‘From the moment Kadith began to ask his first question,’ said Horus, ‘he lost the initiative. He and all his forces are reacting to what I do. He knows this failure. Though he does not realise it is not his first error, but his second…’
The vast star fortress at the inner gate of
the defences began to shed motes of red light.
‘But he can still undo the damage.’
A cloud of sparks spilled towards their fleet, and Argonis realised that each one was an assault craft.
‘Kadith is a warrior of point and edge, as much as calculation…’
The cloud of assault craft swarmed over the green-marked ships as they tried to turn.
‘He knows that even Legion forces can be channelled…’ said Horus, as the voices of a hundred battles erupted from the vox-speakers.
‘Hull integrity failing…’
‘Cut them down!’
‘Falling back to breach point…’
Dozens of separate pict images sprang into being. Warriors in sea-green armour ran down a corridor as one of the walls exploded inwards. Blank-faced figures of chrome and brass broke through the flames.
‘Can anyone hear–’
‘Casualties–’
‘Cut off–’
‘We can be battered down,’ continued Horus.
The face of a warrior rose through the projection. Blood streaked the front of his helm. A crack ran from shattered eyepiece to jaw.
‘We can be bloodied to the point that the tide of control turns…’
The warrior roared his defiance and raised a sword an instant before a beam of energy blasted him to ash.
The lesser hololiths collapsed. The ship was shuddering around Argonis, and he could feel her taking damage. The main projection of the battle was alone now, turning in silence. The two green fleets were bright with damage data. The red of the defences seemed clamped around the fleets like jaws, chewing them, grinding them to fire and dust.
‘Kadith is winning. But then his first mistake comes to undo his effort…’
The sphere of Accazzar-Beta’s moon rolled across the image.
‘The moment he saw our forces he began to question – what was real and what was a feint? What had I anticipated? What was I doing?’
Horus stepped amongst the turning image, projections of ships and star fortresses scanned across his features.
‘That is the problem with questions – if you receive an answer, the mind tends to think that there is nothing more. You focus on the answer…’ Argonis followed the Warmaster’s gaze, and looked at the projection of the moon in time to see a hundred tiny green markers flash into being. ‘And you forget the question.’