Brutal Kunnin, page 8
‘Acknowledged, magos,’ Vass responded, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. It burned him to admit his ignorance, but it wasn’t lack of data that was confusing him – it was simply how to interpret it. ‘What do you make of it?’
‘I can draw no conclusion with a probability of higher than eight point two seven per cent,’ Ryzan responded, even their largely emotionless voice sounding uneasy. ‘These cover sixty-three potential causes, ranging from localised atmospheric phenomena to the imminent destruction of the planet via the opening of a catastrophic warp rift. I can list these possibilities in descending order of likelihood if you wish.’
‘Wait until you have greater certainty,’ Vass instructed them. ‘Kyrzgyn, hold position. I want to know what is occurring before we walk into it.’
‘Acknowledged, sir,’ Kyrzgyn responded, bringing Lux Annihilatus to a reluctant, grumbling halt. The rest of the battle group followed suit, pausing for a moment.
Every meter, every sensor, every measuring device that Vass had access to went haywire at the same time, as a flash bright enough to penetrate even Lux Annihilatus’ auto-tinting viewshields ripped outwards. For a moment, the god-machine was blind.
When his perception cleared, they were no longer alone.
There was a split second when Arlost Vass wondered how a hab-block had suddenly appeared in front of him beyond the ruined causeways when, mere moments before, he’d had a clear view through to the swarm of ork foot troops in the distance. Then the details of his readouts penetrated his confusion, and an unfamiliar sensation squeezed his chest.
Fear.
‘Gargant!’ Indan barked. ‘Gargant!’
It was colossal. Arlost Vass had, once, as a young man, seen the Imperator Titan Casus Belli in person. He’d wept openly and unashamedly from the sheer magnificence of its might. Although Lux Annihilatus was an almighty god-machine, and he was thrice-blessed to have been joined with its spirit, he still recognised that against the might of an Imperator it was like a callow youth standing next to a battle-hardened warrior in the fullness of their strength.
This gargant, daubed in yellow and black paint and bearing the design of a leering crescent moon in front of what looked like crossed wrenches, was of a size with the mighty Casus Belli. Nearly cuboid, although tapering slightly towards the apex, it squatted in front of them like an ork god incarnated into metal: ugly and crude, on stubby legs, yet undeniably powerful. It bristled with weapons, although Vass couldn’t hazard a guess as to the nature of most of them, other than the huge, outsized rotary saw blades that reared up on extendable arms from each of its shoulders. The others were obviously guns of some sort, although exactly what an ork gun might do was always a matter of guesswork, due to the sheer unpredictability of the xenos beasts.
He didn’t want to find out.
‘All units, fire!’ Vass commanded, transmitting over the vox to his fellow princeps. Moderati Indan was already targeting, although in truth he could probably have fired in the gargant’s general direction and still hit it, the thing was so vast. How had it got there? Where had it come from?
The Warhounds, faster and leaner as they were, reacted first. Each opened fire with their Vulcan mega-bolters, searching for a weak spot in the gargant’s armour, but their shells didn’t even leave a scratch on the foul machine’s paintwork; instead they were deflected by a hazy, sparking force field that intercepted them before they even reached it.
Then the gargant answered.
Castus’ void shields were bludgeoned down by a barrage of ballistic and energy fire from the gargant’s multiple weapon systems. Then, when it was left staggered and undefended, trailing smoke, the gargant’s belly gun spoke once. Wretham Horle and his crew died as their machine was blown apart under them, and Vass heard their screams for a split second over the vox before the transmission was cut off.
‘Evade!’ Vass bellowed to his crew and the two remaining members of his battle group. He fought against Annihilatus’ immediate, feral response to stand and trade blows with this colossus. That was a fight they couldn’t win; he knew that deep in his gut, and the truth of it sickened him, but their survival hinged on him overriding the god-machine’s desire for unthinking violence in its efforts to avenge its fallen comrade. ‘Evade, and pick your shots! We may have to take this abomination down foot by foot, but by the Omnissiah, that is what we will do!’
+++010+++
< What is the source of that anomaly?! > Tech-Priest Dominus Ronrul Illutar barked, staring at the wildly oscillating readouts on the tactical holo, centring on one point in front of the recently emerged Legio Hephaesto engines.
< Insufficient data, > Zaefa replied helplessly.
< There is a lot of data, > Forge Lord Ull retorted, gesturing to the readouts.
< Clarification: insufficient data that converges on a satisfactory explanation, > Zaefa snapped.
< We are aware that the xenos have employed weaponised force field technology, > Grand Genetor Yavannos cut in. < Could this be an example of such a weapon, on a hitherto-unseen scale? >
< It is possible, > Zaefa replied uneasily, but she had her doubts. What an abominable emotion was doubt! A magos could approach anything appropriately, even their own death, so long as they were certain of the facts…
The readings abruptly stabilised. Zaefa suddenly found herself longing for the chilly uncertainty of doubt, for the facts were terrifying.
An enemy walker had materialised in the centre of what had been a swirling mass of energy anomalies. It was enormous: Zaefa’s preliminary readings suggested that it stood one hundred and sixty-five feet tall, was not much less across at its widest point, and probably weighed as much as any two of the Legio Hephaesto battle group combined.
< Fascinating, > breathed Yavannos, leaning closer to inspect the holo, her hands and sleeves disrupting some of the tactical displays as she placed them on the tabletop.
< Fascinating?! > Zaefa repeated, aghast. < Magos, this is a disaster! The orks have just teleported their mightiest war machine into close proximity with our Titans! >
< That is impossible! > Illutar raged, cutting her off before she could speak again. < Teleportation on such a scale is impossible! This is a… a false positive sensor reading! >
In answer, Zaefa snapped her fingers. Her haptic implants interpreted the gesture, and the tactical holo was replaced by an overlay of pict-feeds from Node Primus’ security systems. The light levels were low, as was the angle of the sun, and the air was filled with smoke and dust thrown up by the battle, but the image was clear enough. The ork gargant was very definitely there, as solid and real as anything else, and considerably more menacing. Zaefa quickly changed the display back again. Had anyone asked, she would have replied that the tactical display gave a better overview of the situation. In reality, seeing the machine with her optics chilled her to what remained of her natural bones.
< Clearly, it is not impossible, > Yavannos replied to Illutar, gesturing to the tactical readout with some excitement. < This is an unprecedented research opportunity! Whatever chance combination of factors the xenos have accidentally stumbled upon for this to occur may be replicable on demand, if our adepts are able to study– >
< Warhound Castus has been destroyed, > Zaefa said numbly, as the Scout Titan’s marker flashed red and vanished with an ominous finality.
< The machine is operational? > Yavannos asked in disbelief.
< Negative, > Zaefa replied, confused. < As I just stated, Castus has been destroyed. >
< Not Castus, > Yavannos said, with a dismissive snap of code. < The ork gargant. It is operational? It has come through this teleportation operational, with its systems and weapons functional? >
< Affirmative, > Zaefa said, trying to fight down her displeasure with the contemptuous disregard the grand genetor had displayed for the loss of one of their forge world’s honoured god-machines. < As you can see, it is now engaging the other Titans of the battle group. >
< This is a marvel, > Yavannos said, her mechadendrites twitching in excitement. < For anything that size to be teleported is practically unheard of, but for it to be operational immediately afterwards…! > She turned to address Illutar directly. < We must have access to the gargant in order to understand how this was achieved. It must be captured unharmed! >
< Magos, the gargant has just destroyed one of our Warhounds, and there is considerable risk that it may repeat that atrocity, > Zaefa told her. The remaining three Titans were spreading out, attempting to bombard the gargant from all sides and prevent it from concentrating its fire to the devastating effect it had against Castus, but even so, the gigantic war machine was clearly more than a match for even the mighty Lux Annihilatus in a one-on-one engagement. Given the notorious unpredictability of ork weaponry, Zaefa would not have liked to hazard an estimate on their chances of survival, but she did not feel that the percentages were high. < If it is not destroyed, the firepower it can bring to bear may be able to overwhelm that sector’s void shield generator and leave the node undefended! >
< All defensive batteries are to engage that engine, > Ronrul Illutar declared. He was attempting to project an air of calm authority, but the cracks were there for any with the sensors to detect them, and Zaefa was most certainly one of those.
< Tech-priest dominus, > she began, as respectfully as she was able under the circumstances, < the void shields would have to be lowered in order for our batteries to fire, and our readings suggest that this would have to be done for a sustained period in order for our ordnance to achieve any appreciable effect, since the enemy machine appears to be protected by an energy shield of its own that at least approaches the efficiency of Imperator-grade void shields. >
< Then they will be lowered, > Illutar bit out.
< We are still being bombarded by xenos artillery, > Ull retorted, much to Zaefa’s relief: she had no wish to contradict the tech-priest dominus again, alone. < Lux Annihilatus was only able to take out one emplacement before the gargant’s appearance necessitated an alteration in its priorities. If we lower the void shields in that sector to allow the batteries to engage the ork machine, that sector will itself be devastated by incoming fire! >
< And your alternative is, I suppose, to demand that we approve the activation protocols for your ‘experimental war machine’? > Illutar demanded. < This construct that you claim comes from ancient plans of which you have not previously made this council aware? >
< Yes! > Ull practically roared, his vox-emitters rumbling with bass that emphasised the power of his code as he rose to his full height. < Our world faces a threat like none other it has previously encountered. Only through bravery and faith in the Omnissiah will we survive! >
< Absolutely not! > the tech-priest dominus shouted, slamming one hand down on the table with sufficient force to send the tactical holos shivering for several seconds. < I will not be party to such ill-considered, unsupervised arrogance! >
< You do not have the sole voice at this table, > Ull snapped. < Grand genetor? Lexico arcanus? >
Zaefa’s chest tightened. The High Council of Hephaesto was theoretically a democracy, except that the tech-priest dominus held the casting vote in the case of a tie. It would take her and Yavannos siding with Ull to overrule Ronrul Illutar… and if they did, what then? Would Kapothenis Ull proclaim himself as tech-priest dominus instead? Such a schism could paralyse their ability to coordinate the planet’s defence even further.
< I cannot allow this, > Yavannos said, and Zaefa experienced a twin wash of first relief, and then guilt at being relieved that her decision would be irrelevant, and therefore she did not need to make it.
Illutar nodded curtly at her, in at least a brief acknowledgement of her support. < Then it is settled. We shall pursue other methods of destroying this threat– >
< No, we must not destroy it! > Yavannos broke in, her coding just as emphatic as Ull’s had been moments before. < I am instructing a battalion of skitarii to board the machine and suppress it from within– >
< This council has taken leave of its senses, > Ull growled. < Play your doomed games, if you must. I remain committed to the defence of Node Primus and this planet through the options available to us that have the greatest statistical possibility of success, and if that means that I must face battle myself, then so be it! > He turned in a whirl of robes and angry mechadendrites, and stalked away. Ronrul Illutar and Viker Yavannos, now engaged in a highly charged debate of their own over whether they should destroy or capture the ork gargant, and how best either of those aims could be achieved, did not even acknowledge his departure.
And so our resistance fractures, like a support strut placed under too much stress, Zaefa thought numbly. We fight ourselves instead of the enemy, and in doing so, open ourselves to our doom.
She opened a back channel in her communication output, hidden as best she could from her colleagues on the High Council, even from Ronrul Illutar. She was disobeying his direct order, but at some point her duty to the Omnissiah, as she saw it, had to supersede her loyalty to a tech-priest dominus who had lost control of his own planet.
< This is Lexico Arcanus Zaefa Varaz, > she transmitted to her personal adepts, layering her authorisation codes into the message. < Commence the immediate backup and stowage of all available records, with priority given to weapon schemata and unique artefacts. Commandeer all available shuttles for the purposes of evacuation preparation. >
She paused for a moment, weighing up her next words. This wasn’t a calculation of odds or fractions, this was a search through her very spirit.
She reached a resolution.
< Should you encounter resistance to these orders from your colleagues, you are hereby authorised to use all reasonable force in order to comply… >
…DA HARDER DEY FALL
The MekaGargant was Da Meklord’s pride, an utter colossus of destructive power that could level a humie hab-block in a matter of seconds. He liked to tellyport it down right in front of his enemies, just to make them soil themselves a few moments before they were utterly annihilated by the truly stupendous firepower it carried. Ufthak had seen it wreck the largest humie tanks with a single shot, and shrug off one of those enormous bug things vomiting something at it before dekapitating it with its mega-killsaws. He’d cheered with the rest of the ladz when it had blown up one of the smaller humie gargants as soon as it had arrived, and Kaptin Badrukk had looked significantly annoyed.
‘Zoggin’ show-off,’ the freebooter kaptin had muttered, clearly unhappy at being upstaged in such a fashion, as though he hadn’t just posed on top of something he’d killed.
Then, however, the humies had got their act together a bit. Their three remaining gargants had split up – actually split up, not like Ufthak’s ladz – and had started to pour fire into the MekaGargant from different directions. It wasn’t enough to take it down, not yet, but Ufthak could see its kustom force field sparking away at a rate that suggested it might not last much longer. A mek’s force fields were always a bit unpredictable, that was the nature of the beast, but even one designed by Da Meklord’s genius probably wasn’t going to last much longer against this sort of combined attack.
The humies were dodging, too, which was ridiculous: what was the point of being in a gargant if you were gonna dodge? Nonetheless, they kept trying to get out of the way of the MekaGargant’s guns, and just about avoiding enough of what Da Meklord was sending towards them to avoid joining their mate as a pile of slag on the ground.
‘Looks like ’e’s bitten off more dan ’e can chew,’ Kaptin Badrukk said with ill-concealed glee, chomping on the grot finger in his mouth with a crunch of small bones, then swallowing it happily. ‘Fink about me offer, ladz, cos I don’t reckon dat git’s gonna be around fer much longer.’ He whistled through his plentiful teef, and his Flash Gitz reappeared from their plundering, laden down with bizarre-looking humie gear.
‘Ya can ’ave da leftovers!’ Badrukk laughed, swaggering off with his boyz. Ufthak glowered at his retreating back. There wouldn’t be any point going through what the Flash Gitz had left; picking up Badrukk’s scraps wasn’t going to impress anyone. Stupid Badrukk and his stupid tellyporting, jumping in front of orks what’d worked hard to get where they were…
Slowly, pieces started to fit together in Ufthak’s brain.
He looked over at the fuel silo, where a punch-up had started between Kult of Speed members who each wanted to be the first to refuel so they could go roaring off with a full tank again.
He looked up at the titanic firefight going on between the gargants, with the MekaGargant hard-pressed and its return fire, at the moment, spattering off the shields of its biggest humie enemy without doing any appreciable damage.
He looked at the smashed causeways, where a veritable tangle of interweaving humie routes had been blown apart by their gargants’ fire, to make a space for them to walk through.
He squinted down at the Snazzhammer in his hand, then over at Mogrot Redtoof, utterly deadly in combat and about as intelligent as a lobotomised grot.
‘Right den,’ Ufthak said. ‘I’ve got a kunnin’ plan.’
‘A plan?’ Deffrow echoed. ‘Wot’re you now den, some sorta Blood Axe?’
Ufthak nutted him, and Deffrow sat down rapidly, involuntarily, and in a state of some confusion.
‘Da bloody cheek of it!’ Ufthak fumed. ‘“Some sorta Blood Axe”, indeed! Get up, ya git, and get goin’ over dat way. An’ da rest of you, go wiv ’im! Badrukk’s ladz can’t be movin’ dat fast, dey’re weighed down wiv loot, so get in front of ’em and get yerselves somefing wot we can show Da Meklord an’ prove we’re better dan dose zoggin’ freebooterz!’
