Festum Gladius Chapter 17

The blessed device was nearing completion. Hevostan had reverently assembled the components according to the scriptures of the STC and applied the microscopic adjustments that would elevate it from a collection of parts into Hallowed functionality. Binaric code-cant had been inloaded, the joining of spirit and mechanism into one glorious whole. The casing was sealed and the projector antenna fitted. All that remained was to seek the Omnissiah's blessings upon this device.

Hevostan looked at the weapon laying upon the altar of his private sanctum. It resembled a bulky rifle, swollen with resonance coils around its middle and with a fitted grip underneath. Capacitors made up the rear third of the weapon, sustaining its voracious demands for power. One could have mistaken it for a plasma rifle, save that its barrel was a series of circular rings fitted to a fluted projector vane. To those who had studied the secrets of mars it looked like a miniature version of an Ordinatus Ultor, those vast city-levelling weapons gifted unto the Mechancius by the Machine God. Though vastly smaller in scale and power this rifle operated on the same principle: a transonic weapon.

With total focus Hevostan picked up an arc-welder and placed its tip against the casing. With a spray of hot sparks he inscribed the Rune of steadfastness and chanted, "Omnissiah fill this vessel with your Motive Force." Then he took up a lit incense stick and waved it over the device chanting, "Omnissiah bless this weapon so it may lay low your enemies." Finally he lifted a silver ewer and anointed the weapon with consecrated oils as he intoned, "Omnissiah guide this weapon's aim so it may bring you glory!"

The consecration was complete and Hevostan sank back as he let his focus wander. Performing such intense sacraments left him soul-weary but the price was worth it. The transonic weapon was ready for field-testing and he was eager to begin. His hands itched to pick up the weapon and take it to the firing ranges but the ache in his back told another story, he was ragged and worn down, his aim would be poor and his judgement impaired. He should leave the weapon in state for a night and return refreshed at a later time. It chafed but that was what he decided to do. He rolled his head, rubbed the back of his neck, and that was when he first became aware of the screaming.

Through the door came all too familiar screams of panic and terror, the sounds of men running for their lives and dying as they were mowed down. Under that was the crackle of flames and the roars of explosions, faint and distant but unmistakable to a Space Marines' ear. Some would have taken it for the sound of an accident, a terrible tragedy arising in the forge but Hevostan knew it was not. This was the sound of battle. Instantly he was on his feet and running, diving out the door and heading towards the distant noises. It was a good few seconds before he realised that he had grabbed his Transonic rifle, nestling it in his grip with the familiarity of a bolter. He hadn't planned to use it yet, but it looked like it would be tested today after all.

Hevostan barrelled through empty workshops and through vehicle garages, following the sounds to their source. After a moment he found the first bodies, serf-artisans sawed in half like a buzzsaw had chewed through them. Fires licked the walls as smoke filled the air with acrid tangs. Hevostan ran through it without pause but internally cursed himself. How long had he been in a trance, how much of the fighting had he missed while he was consumed by ritual. There was no way to know and he hurried to reach the danger before it was too late.

Hevostan turned into the main processional leading up to the Forge doors and found a scene of bedlam. Everywhere he looked blood painted the walls, bright and arterial lifeblood smearing the holy icons of the Machine God. Tool carts and pallets of munitions lay strewn about, many craters in the floor attesting that the fire had cooked off rounds. Bodies were piled high, many serfs and wrecked gun-servitors, crushed into paste or rent in half by mighty blows. Thick smoke billowed in the air, blocking his sight but Hevostan saw an overturned Rhino to one side, behind which Lytek and Geryon were covering.

Hevostan skidded next to them and slammed his backpack into an axle as he shouted, "What's going on?!"

Lytek's head snapped about as he spat, "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Busy," Hevostan growled, "I need a sit-rep now."

Geryon hefted his long-handled axe as he spat, "He's gone mad, totally unhinged."

Lytek snarled, "I can't believe it but it finally happened, his sanity has snapped."

"Who?" Hevostan cried, "Who did this?!"

"Who do you think?" Lytek yelled, "Ajax!"

There was a heavy thud from behind the Rhino and the smoke parted to reveal the towering form of Honourable Ajax. From the wreckage of spent lives he marched, limbs painted with mortal blood. His armour was chipped and scored in many places but he stomped forward relentlessly, his assault cannon spinning and his power fist crackling with caged lightning. The Contemptor-Dreadnought was advancing in full fury and his wrath was terrifying to behold. His stride was akin to an avalanche rolling down a slope and his fury was the rolling thunder of its passage.

Hevostan's jaw fell in disbelief, it couldn't be true, Ajax couldn't have done this. The thought was an impossible weight in his mind, slowing down his responses and locking him into denial. Honourable Ajax, the most venerated and powerful Dreadnought of the Chapter, a hero from their founding days was slaughtering their own servants. He had finally gone mad. Hevostan couldn't believe it, he wouldn't. Unfortunately Ajax wasn't so encumbered. His torso swung towards them and his assault cannon roared as he bellowed, "I SEE YOU, ALPHA LEGION FILTH!"

A hail of solid rounds chewed through the undercarriage of the Rhino but Hevostan was no longer there. A hand grabbed his pauldron and heaved him out of the way, pulling him around the Rhino's bulk. Geryon's Primaris strength yanked Hevostan into safety but still a round clipped his shoulder, jarring him badly as he stumbled. Ajax didn't seem to notice he had missed his target, instead turning his attention to a twitching servitor on the floor. He picked it up in his fist and squeezed, bursting the machine-slave into oily gore as he roared, "MUTANT SCUM!"

Hevostan stumbled back out of sight as he gasped, "We have to speak to him, calm his mind."

"No chance," Lytek spat, "Talbah tried that and Ajax didn't take it well. See that stain on the wall over there... that's all that's left of Talbah."

Hevostan's head spun as he breathed, "Ajax killed a Storm Herald..."

Geryon hissed, "I don't know what madness has overcome your Dreadnought but his insanity cannot be cured. Forget notions of Brotherhood, he is a threat, an enemy. We must end him, before he destroys everything."

"How?" Hevostan spat, "Where is Angmatan, where is Abdael?"

"No sign of them," Lytek spat, "Its just us."

"We can't beat him with three guns and an axe."

Geryon twisted his hands on the shaft of his weapon and from the cog-toothed bearings slid forth glowing wedges of orange light. Hevostan recognised the tines of a photonic blade, hard light held in a gravitic sheath. That blade could cut through any amount of armour and could lay low monsters and kings alike. The Techmarine had no idea Primaris had access to such arcane technology but he did and it turned the axe into a broad-headed slice of deadly force. Geryon hefted his axe and growled, "Give me some cover, on the count of three. One, two, three!"

Instantly the trio burst from cover, emerging behind Ajax's back. Geryon leapt into a fast sprint, racing for Ajax's back. Hevostan lifted his rifle but froze, he couldn't fire on Ajax, no Storm Herald could. It was Heresy to oppose him and the shock froze his finger on the trigger. Lytek however was not so hesitant and opened up with his servo-harness, laying down bursts of plasma from one arm and bolts of hot lightning from another. The blasts caught Ajax square in the back but spilled off a bubble of protection surrounding him, the Contemptor's Atomonic force-field shrugging off the impacts with ease. The Dreadnought began to turn but Hevostan shook off his malaise and opened fire. The transonic rifle in his hands throbbed with barely contained power, pushing for one titanic blast and he braced it in his arms as he pulled the trigger. The rifle didn't jerk in his hands, it didn't recoil or blaze brightly. There was only a high-pitched noise, almost beyond hearing and then a wave of disruptive sound rolled forth. Hevostan watched in awe as a shimmering distortion hurtled forwards, travelling through the air like wind over a pond's surface. The distortion met the force-field and passed through it with ease, the shield could have rebuffed any known form of particle but this was purely a wave and encountered no resistance as it slammed into Ajax.

The Dreadnought stumbled as he was battered by sonic power, his armoured frame shaking at a molecular level. His heraldry deformed under the impact and his armour pitted, the atomic bonds holding it together losing cohesion under the awful power of the weapon. He fell back a step, his weapons going silent and his legs shaking like a newborn colt. Hevostan dared to think he had knocked the Dreadnought out of the fight but Ajax rallied as he roared, "WARP MAGIC!"

Suddenly Geryon struck, diving under the Dreadnought's legs. His Photonic axe flashed thrice, tearing through armour as he tried to slice Ajax's legs. He was fast, he was precise and he was strong and he knew what to aim for. One broken piston could disable Ajax and leave him prone for a finishing blow but the Honourable had not survived five thousand years of war without good reason. The Contemptor's leg drew back and then swung forward, catching Geryon in the midriff. Armour crumpled, bones shattered and Augmetics deformed as Geryon was sent flying like a kickball. The Primaris flew across the avenue and slammed into the wall, falling flat on his face and going still. Hevostan was aghast and saw Ajax turning upon him as he growled, "YOU'RE NEXT, TRAITOR FILTH!"

Hevostan realised he was about to die and lifted his rifle for one last burst, but before he could act there was an almighty roar from behind the Dreadnought. Ajax paused and turned and Hevostan peered beyond him to witness a miracle. Charging down the passageway from behind came a wall of serfs with weapons in hand and at their head was a Repulsor tank and Angmatan himself.

"Take him down!" Angmatan cried as he opened fire. A solid wall of las, heavy bolter and conversion beam fire met Ajax, but he trusted to his force-field to hold true as he charged into the torrent yelling, "DEFILER!"

Hevostan watched in sick awe as the Contemptor charged into the teeth of the onslaught. He wanted to add his fire but dared not, sonic weapons would not stop at the Dreadnought, he could not fire while his kin were in the angle of his shot. All he could do was watch as Ajax barrelled towards them and Angmatan unleashed his electro-whips to meet him. Dreadnought against Forgemaster, hero against lord in a contest of Titans.

Hevostan held his breath as the pair closed, expecting an epic confrontation but at the last second Ajax veered off. Moving far faster than he had any right to the Honourable jerked right and slammed his power fist into the Repulsor. Metallic fingers cut through armour like butter and then he swung his torso, dragging the grav-craft about. Turbines howled in denial but without the benefit of traction it could not deny the momentum of the swing and the tank was hurled like a tossed log, slamming into Angmatan and pinning him to the wall.

The Forgemaster bellowed in denial but Ajax placed one foot on the tank, pressing the machines even harder. The turret whirred as it tried to target him but Ajax's fist punched into the flank armour, peeling it open like a ration can. The driver within was exposed and before he could react Ajax snatched him up, holding him aloft as metal fingers squeezed. Armour folded in on itself, bones turned to powder and blood ran through Ajax's fingers as he killed the Primaris in his hand and roared, "DEATH TO THE TRAITOR LEGIONS!"

Hevostan couldn't believe what he was seeing, Ajax was killing Storm Heralds. With his own hands he had taken the life of a Brother and he was not done yet. His assault cannon swept about, mowing down the serfs surrounding him. He laid them out with one swipe and then kicked the tank's wreckage, driving Angmatan back into the wall as he cried, "No!" With a moment of respite Ajax turned and ran towards a metal door set into the wall. A single punch broke it from its hinges, revealing a descending tunnel beyond and Ajax ran into the depths as he cried, "THE ENEMY GROWS IN NUMBER. CALL CHAPTER MASTER TURGO TO RALLY OUR BROTHERS. I SHALL BUY HIM TIME TO REGROUP!"

Ajax disappeared into the dark, leaving behind fire and death in his wake. Hevostan was dumbfounded, struggling to understand how this had happened. Ajax, the most vaunted hero of the Chapter, had gone mad and slaughtered his own kin. The Contemptor-Dreadnought was lost to dementia, a tragedy beyond the scope of his mind. Hevostan could do nothing save stand impotently in the ashes of defeat and whisper, "It's… its all over."

There was a scrape of metal on stone as Angmatan levered the dead Repulsor off him and snarled, "Nothing's over, we have to go after him. From the depths of the Fortress-Monastery he can get anywhere, there's no telling where he will emerge. Ajax will destroy everything he encounters."

Lytek stepped up and said, "We had better warn the Chapter."

"No," Angmatan growled, "Tell the Masters nothing, this is our shame to bear. Phalros cannot know, nobody can know."

But Hevostan's eyes were locked on the sight of Geryon staggering to his feet, eyes filled with contempt and ire. The Techmarine instantly knew Geryon would be reporting this incident to the First Captain, Jemiel was soon going to know everything that had happened. Hevostan muttered, "Too late for that, one way or another word of this will get out. We had better tell Phalros ourselves, before he hears it from unfriendly lips."