Festum Gladius Chapter 20
Across the heavens a pair of aircraft soared. The morning sky blazed a brilliant blue and the ocean below churned relentlessly, white wavetops frothing in eagerness to embrace the flyers and carry them to their doom. The aircraft's wounds were many and their hurts ran deep but they endured. Torn wings, busted avionics and smashed auspex mattered not; they were determined to reach their goal no matter what.
In the lead plane Novak called out, "Turn north-west as I do."
"Understood," Janus growled in frustration.
He had good reason to be upset; his wrecked Stormhawk had lost all instrumentation and navigational ability. He was reduced to following Novak's lead, depending on the Storm Herald to steer them true. The pair were flying in formation, Janus hanging back to ride the slipstream of the Xiphon. Hopefully it would reduce his fuel consumption and extend his range enough to return to the Fortress-Monastery. That was the theory; it remained to be seen if it proved possible in reality.
Novak gently banked his Xiphon over to the new course, seeing the horizon tilt as he turned. The turn went smoothly and the pair settled into their positions, flying serenely over the ocean. Novak glimpsed at his navigation screen and saw they had passed the furthest extent of their charted course, they were now on a dogleg towards one final island before heading due west back to the Fortress-Monastery. A smooth run in normal times, but their fuel tolerances were as fine as hairsbreadth, one mistake would spell their doom. Plus they would have to make sure to arrive after the Emperor's Storm had passed over the Chapter's home, no way did they have enough fuel to fly through that again.
As they flew Novak voxed, "I still can't reach anybody."
"Me neither," Janus muttered, "Long-range vox is out… or being jammed."
"Surely we must have left jamming range," Novak mused.
Janus muttered, "Then why haven't our Chapters contacted us via satellite? They must see we are in distress, they should be frantically trying to contact us. Unless someone is mucking up the comms. Nothing about this attack makes sense; it can't be part of the Feast of Blades."
"What makes you say that?" Novak enquired.
"Challenges are hard enough," Janus spat, "We don't need this extra danger. I'm starting to think this ambush wasn't meant to be part of our trial. Someone wanted us dead."
Novak kneaded his stick worryingly as he asked, "What are you saying?"
"Whoever attacked us was damned good and had access to non-standard technology. The Guard and the Navy don't have that kind of access; neither do the Ecclesiarchy, Arbites or the Administratum. The best Imperial tech is reversed for the Astartes, Mechanicus and Inquisition. Only they have the finesse to pull off an attack like this."
Novak didn't like where this was going and said, "Nothing we can do about it now, we should concentrate on flying."
Janus was quiet for long seconds then his voice came over the vox, "You know something, don't you? Those dead Champions, there's something you're not telling me. The Smoke Jaguars, Fire Lords and Imperial Fists…. What really happened to them?"
Novak deflected, "I can't say."
"Frak that," Janus growled, "I saved your life and I'm probably going to die in the next hour. Tell me what's going on."
Novak chewed his lip for a moment, turning it over. He knew he shouldn't reveal any details, not to those who may prove involved. Yet Janus had been ambushed too, his plane was wrecked and his life hung on a thread. No matter how good the assassins were they couldn't have faked the damage to the Stormhawk, nobody was that good. Novak didn't know much about what was happening, but he was confident Janus wasn't involved.
Reluctantly he sighed, "You're right, Cranicus didn't die in a feud gone bad. He was killed by another party, they all were."
"You knew this and you didn't warn us?" Janus spat.
"You might have been in on it," Novak explained, "Any of the Champions may be. We have to suspect everybody."
"Pah, let me get back to land and I'll beat it out of them," Janus growled.
"You'll beat up everybody? No, we have to be cunning about this, ferret out the truth carefully and with finesse. Now shut up, our turn is coming up."
Ahead Novak saw a wide island looming, one of the larger ones with a mountainous ridge that rose ten thousand metres into the sky. The largest island in this part of the ocean and the last turn in their route. Novak glanced at his map display and saw they were supposed to take a wide sweep around the island and then head due west. Yet as he looked over the map an idea occurred. He hurriedly narrowed the band of his auspex and peered at the return and saw it was possible, yes this could work.
Novak hurried declared, "Janus, I have an idea. Instead of going around the island we'll go over it."
"Over it?!" We don't have the fuel to climb that high."
"No, but there's a narrow pass in the ridge, we can go straight through it and cut off forty leagues of the journey. Follow me in, I'll show you how it's done."
Janus fell back into Novak's rear as they crossed the shore. Below them tree-covered hills rose sharply, climbing in a series of steps towards the mountains. Fishermen and farmers looked up in amazement as the pair of Astartes' planes shot overhead, roaring engines shaking the ground as they passed. Novak paid them no mind as he flew on, eyes fixed on a narrow gash in the mountains looming in his path. It was far narrower and more jagged than he had expected and were the situation not desperate he would never have attempted this.
"Fly straight in but watch the sides, it'll be a tight fit," Novak called.
"If you get us killed I'll find you in hell itself and slay you again!" Janus snapped.
"Ha, try to keep up!" Novak laughed with a confidence he didn't feel.
Rock walls surged up on either side as the planes dove into the narrow pass. Bare stone rushed by and Novak felt turbulence batter at his holed wings. He held the stick tightly as he compensated, correcting course with microscopic adjustments. Crags and bluffs loomed at random, any one of which could end both jets if they impacted, coming and going so fast they blurred together.
Novak's hands sweated at the proximity of the walls, knowing one brush would end them both. This was nap of the earth flying and only the boldest of pilots would attempt it. Rocks and boulders and scraggy trees shot by as the path unwound and the planes tore through the pass at breakneck speed. Then Novak saw a lone man standing on a clifftop above, mouth agape as he watched two jet planes fly by below him. Who he was and why he was there were lost in a flash but Novak was sure no one would believe his tale, no matter how many times he protested its veracity.
His moment of distraction nearly killed Novak as the pass took a sharp turn. Novak heaved back on the controls as he screamed, "Hard left, hard left!" Hawkwing rolled as it hurtled around the bend, belly passing inches from a wall as tumults of loose stone went tumbling into the pass, shaken free by the howl of his engines. Novak levelled out, gasping with relief but his eyes widened as he spied a spar of stone stretched across his path, a bridge of rock lurking at the exact height the planes were flying. Novak pushed his stick forward and dove as he yelled, "Low bridge, hit the deck!"
The ground surged up as they passed under the bridge, its rocky surface inches from clipping their tails. Novak barely had time to see it pass before he was forced to pull up, lest he slam into the ground. Too slowly, far too slowly, the Xiphon was going to crash in a fiery explosion. But then the wings angled up just enough to grab the air and lift sent him back into the sky.
"You are insane!" Janus yelled in outrage, "You're defective in the head!"
Novak felt his hearts thundering in his chest but could only laugh in relief, "Nothing to it!"
The pass fell away as they burst into the open air, leaving only open sky and Novak sagged in his seat as he saw they had successfully traversed the pass. Ahead the island's shore waited and beyond the ocean and a clean run back to the Fortress-Monastery. The only thing left was to reach it. Brimming with elation Novak pointed his nose due west and led the pair back across the ocean, heading for home.
As they flew he kept a close eye upon his fuel gauge and tried to calculate ranges. Even with their shortcut it was going to be close. In fact he was worried they would fall short, but there was nothing he could do about that save tell himself his sums were wrong and trust in the Machine Spirits. Their planes were noble steeds, valiant heroes in their own right. Surely they would not falter at the last hurdle.
Time crept by like eternity as he fretted. Never had a journey felt so long or so arduous. He had dropped from orbit in flaming pods, teleported through non-space and traversed the Warp from the bridge of a starship but none of them felt so tormented as this journey. It seemed to last forever and all he could do was watching his fuel gauge steadily dropping and fight the despair rising in his hearts.
Just as he was convinced they had fallen short his vox crackled, "In… can you hear me? We have you on auspex. Can you hear me?"
"Nimodes!" Novak yelled with delight, "We hear you. Wounded birds coming in, we have taken battle damage and need priority landing!"
"Battle-damage?!" Nimodes yelped, "What are you talking about? We lost vox-contact with the Champions, all of them. Satellites tracked your run but we have lost all trace of the Praetors of Orpheus, Storm Giants, Mentor Legion and Excoriators."
Novak's stomach plummeted as he realised four champions had fallen to the unknown attackers but there was no time to mourn. He hastily voxed, "No time to explain, we're running on fumes. We need to make emergency landings."
"Copy, runaways seven and eight are clear. You have a priority landing."
Novak saw the Fortress-Monastery looming on the horizon, glistening wetly. Beyond the Emperor's Storm receded, having passed over and leaving the island steaming under a dawn sun. His eye spotted a pair of ferrocrete stretches waiting and he pointed his nose at them. There was not enough fuel remaining to attempt a vertical landing, as the craft were designed to do, they'd have to do this one old school.
They lined up for their landings and Novak set his landing claws to extend. He gripped the stick tightly and called, "You ready?"
"Engines are running on prayer alone," Janus muttered, "But I didn't come this far to fail."
Novak steered for the left runway and watched as the grey line grew in his sights, he feathered his engines to reduce speed and lifted his nose in preparedness. A slight crosswind pushed him to the side but he compensated, coming in smoothly for a rolling landing. Closer and closer he came and sweat poured down his neck as the ground grew larger. It would be tight but he thought he would make it. Then the engines spluttered and choked on fumes, dropping him short of the runway.
Power fell away from his hands as Hawkwing ran out of fuel but Novak snarled, "Oh no you don't!" He slammed the throttle open and from somewhere the engines found one last gasp of thrust and the Xiphon stumbled forward, clipping the edge of the runway with barely a metre to spare. Violent tremors shook Novak's bones and his teeth chattered as the landing claws skidded over Ferrocrete, spraying sparks behind him. He had no control at all, no ability to steer and he was helpless as the plane skidded about, spinning on its claws. The world pirouetted for a moment, then the force tipped it over and the wing threatened to plough into the ground, a deadly tumble mere moments away. But then the landing claws snapped, dropping the whole plane to the ground and with a screech of rent metal it fell still.
Novak instantly punched the canopy clear and hurled himself over the side. Rescue vehicles were racing to his position, alarum's screaming as they readied hoses filled with fire retardants. Novak walked to meet them and saw Nimodes clinging to the side of one. The Tenth-Captain leapt from his vehicle and jogged over calling, "Nice landing."
"It had its moments," Novak quipped with a calm he didn't feel.
"Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing," Nimodes retorted, "Now tell me about these attackers."
Another voice interjected, "Treacherous murders!" It was Janus, striding over from his own craft, which Novak sourly noted had made a pristine landing despite its many wounds. The Steel Confessor had wrenched his helm off and looked angry as he spat, "I am going to find those responsible and claim vengeance, for the lost this day and for Cranicus."
Nimodes' eyes slid to Novak and he hissed, "You told him?!"
Novak protested, "Janus can't be in on this, they nearly killed him too."
"I should have known you couldn't keep your mouth shut," Nimodes sighed, "Well at least tell me you can keep this quiet."
"Quiet?!" Janus sneered, "That may be your way, but I intend to wring the truth out by any means necessary. No matter how many necks I have to snap."
With that the Steel Confessor turned and strode off. Novak saw his anger and knew soon word of this would be all over the Fortress-Monastery. All would know of the treachery and that there were assassins at large. Everybody would be at each other's throats, all would be acting suspiciously as accusations were slung back and forth. He also knew it didn't matter; the increased pressure would force the killers to make mistakes and expose their hand. Sooner or later they would make a mistake and Novak would be there to catch them in the act.