Festum Gladius Chapter 48
The armour lay in state, its wounds many and its hurts dour. Terrible rents cleaved through the breastplate, where abomination had chewed its way inside and many secondary wounds marred the limbs and groin. Worse was the damage to the fibre-motive bundles and holy circuitry beneath. The Machine Spirit within was grievously injured and cried for succour. Normally Hevostan would race to tend to it but this time he was put off by the unfamiliar shape of the plates and the odd internal devices buried in its counters. Mark X armour, the standard plate of the Primaris, altered and adjusted in ways unfathomable. A voice in his mind cried aloud that this was Maletek but he ignored it, if nothing else recent events proved they had to accept change was coming or die.
Hevostan stepped back from the bier and sighed, "What do you think?"
Lytek muttered, "The external damage is easy enough to repair. Ceramite is Ceramite, Cawl hasn't changed that. Yet the internal mechanisms will be trickier, subtle changes have been made to the placement and power tolerance of many subsystems and there are devices contained within I have never seen before. Inventions buried deep inside the plate where it is not obvious."
"But it can be done," Hevostan pressed, "You can repair this armour."
Lytek sighed, "It won't be quick, I can promise you that. This new armour requires materials and skills that are in short supply. We lack the advanced manufacturing facilities to produce such rarefied technology in great measure. But... I think I can see what needs to be done."
Another voice intruded, "Perhaps I can help you with that." That was Geryon, the Primaris Techmarine having recovered from the fight in the dock. Like them all he had fought the ghouls, seeing the victory play out and then clearing the field of foes. The line-Brothers had departed but the Techmarines had stayed behind, to collect the armour of the fallen and ensure every trace of the Aeterna Paradigm had been destroyed, they would not repeat the mistake of letting any part of it survive.
Currently the Techmarines were within a shrine in the forges, inspecting the armour and gear of the dead and beginning the laborious task of repairing all that had been broken. Armour, war machines, bolters and chainswords, all must be restored and their spirits placated with ritual masses. Serf-artisans sweated over molten cauldrons and Techmarine overseers made microscopic adjustments to complicated mechanisms as Servitors drove piston-hammers onto anvils and brass horns bleated praises to the Omnissiah. The forges sang with hymns of Binaric prayer and the heady scent of sacred unguents lay heavy in the nose as Sacraments were carried out. It was arduous work yet satisfying, service of the machine was its own reward.
Lytek turned to Geryon and said, "I would... appreciate your suggestions, this new armour requires diligent attention."
Geryon nodded in acceptance as he said, "The work is tasking but the boons many. You will find many improvements contained within."
The casual way he said that still made Hevostan shudder but he stated aloud, "We must learn everything there is to know of these technologies, if we are to begin manufacturing our own versions."
Lytek grimaced as he protested, "I still say it's premature."
But Hevostan sighed, "We agreed production must begin, new Primaris will be born within our walls and the stores brought to us will not suffice for an entire Chapter."
Lytek shook his head as he countered, "I'm not being troublesome, I agree with the theoretical but the practical is far from pleasing. We simply haven't the materials and tools to forge a thousand Mark X suits. Our Forge is lacking in many of the rare elements required and training serfs up to the required level will take decades."
"It doesn't have to be done overnight," Hevostan reminded him, "Our first trial batch of recruits will be small, to test the Primaris gene-seed. Expansion will come in time."
Geryon snorted, "I still say it is a mistake to continue to use inferior... errr older gene-stocks. We should cease production of Firstborn immediately."
Lytek bristled but Hevostan intervened, "Don't start trouble. We agreed to start production trial runs, but give us time to adapt. You have seen what happens when change is forced too suddenly. Meet us halfway."
Geryon's eyes fell and he said, "Yes... we must tread carefully. A trial run is prudent, to prove to all it can work. The proposed timetable of a century to implement the changes is... acceptable."
"I am glad you approve!" boomed a mechanical voice. All eyes turned to see Angmatan striding inside the arched door to the shrine. The Forgemaster had been absent from the Forge, busy repairing the damage to the Fortress-Monastery's depths and his chassis bore countless dents and scuffs. Not only of battle but also of hard labour and arc welding. Yet he wore his scars as badges of honour, displaying his wounds for all to see and his bulky frame filled the shrine with his awesome girth.
Hevostan bowed to his lord and said, "Forgemaster, we were not aware you had returned."
"I returned this very hour," Angmatan declared, "Geryon, I would speak with you."
Hevostan was surprised but the Primaris stood tall and replied, "How can I serve?"
Angmatan lowered his arachnid frame till his hips were level with their heads and declared, "Matters are afoot, changes within the Forge and without. The travesty of recent days has left our ranks depleted and shamed the Sodality in public. We find ourselves under great scrutiny and many voices clamour for our order to be placed under sanction."
"No," Hevostan breathed, "They have no right."
"Chapter Master Phalros has every right," Angmatan snarled, "The Sodality let the Lazarus progression into our home! We are shamed, thus it falls to us to clean up our affairs, before someone else does it for us. Geryon, I have decided to appoint you to the role of Parlierer, effective immediately."
"Me?" Geryon gulped.
"Him?!" Lytek concurred.
Yet Angmatan stated, "Yes, as a symbol of our willingness to adopt reform. We must be seen to embrace new ideas and your name carries weight with First Captain Jemiel. To appoint a Primaris to be our watchman shows our willingness to comply."
Geryon's eyes narrowed as he hissed, "So you only want me for my blood-status?"
"Don't be obtuse," Angmatan retorted, "You have the skills and knowledge to oversee the new technologies are implemented correctly. You know the Universal Laws and where they can be bent and where they cannot. You have seen the danger of invention first-hand, we must adapt to new ideas but still be wary of flagrant innovation. Cawl's broad interpretations of the Universal Laws skirt Heresy but Abdael danced over that line without a care."
"Worthless scum," Lytek snapped, "I'm tempted to go flinch his pickled skull out of storage and use it as kick-ball."
Geryon ignored that as he said, "I accept your offer."
"Good," Angmatan stated, "But know I shall be watching you in turn. The Sodality created the office of Parlierer to stand against corruption but we failed to consider whom would watch the watchman. I shall not make that mistake again."
Geryon nodded in acceptance and pressed, "In that case may I ask what you intend to do with the Forsworn artefacts?"
Angmatan sighed, "Phalros wants them all destroyed out of hand. I refused him, there are still marvels in that vault, dangerous as they are. Yet some concessions must be made, if we intend to keep our autonomy. I shall let him badger me down and hand over a few of the crazier inventions in exchange for clemency... it will be a tense negotiation."
Hevostan stepped in to ask, "And the armour of the dead Red Hunters?"
"I intend to throw them in the Forsworn vaults to gather dust," Angmatan stated.
Hevostan gulped in alarm, "Tradition demands we return the armours to their Forge of origin. To keep another Chapter's gear is an insult to their pride and honour."
"Good," Lytek snorted, "A small revenge for the blood they shed, but it's a start."
"Indeed," Angmatan agreed, "Let them feel the sting of their actions bite hard. Now, Geryon and I must discuss our new doctrines. Hevostan I believe Sigas is looking for you and Lytek, you have work to do."
Lytek scoffed, "Too right, a score of armours, a Repulsor and an Invictor suit to rebuild. I'll be busy for weeks."
"Omnissiah be with you," Hevostan affirmed as he turned to depart and as he left the shrine he heard Lytek mutter, "Now where did I leave my incense burner..."
Hevostan departed the shrine and stepped out into the Forge proper. Once more it was a place of holy industry, filled with the noise and the stench of manufacturing mixed with the blessed scents of humble worship. Only now the artisans tended to their new artefacts without rancour, giving the Primaris war machines the same devotion they would a tank of a thousand year's service. It disturbed him to see the new state of affairs but had come to accept there was no alternative. Change was in the air and all knew they had to move with the times. The Lazarus Progression had shown the Firstborn where the path of stubbornness led and they would not let themselves fall into the same pit of despair. If the Imperium was changing then the Sodality would change with it, they were not afraid of the future.
So Hevostan strode on, confident that the Sodality would emerge from this dark period with new confidence and strength. Yet he drew up short when he found Sigas talking to Honourable Ajax outside the stasis-crypts of the Dreadnoughts. The Contemptor still looked wreaked, his armour in tatters and his assault cannon a fused mass of twisted metal. He had ardently refused to let anyone touch him and none dared challenge him. Mad or not Ajax remained a source of awe and alarm in equal measure.
"Honourable Brother please let us tend to your wounds," Sigas implored.
"DO NOT TOUCH ME," Ajax snapped.
Hevostan strode up to them and barked, "What's this?!"
Sigas turned in relief and said, "Thank the Cog, Hevostan talk some sense into him. He won't let us repair him."
Hevostan faced Ajax and said, "Is this true?"
"YES," Ajax declared, "ALL OF YOU CAN GO DIVE INTO A STAR."
"But your mechanisms fail even now!" Sigas wailed, "You won't last long without blessings!"
"GOOD," Ajax uttered firmly.
Hevostan gazed up at the battered sarcophagus probing, "You want to die?"
"I DESERVE TO," Ajax snapped, "I KILLED STORM HERALDS, MY BROTHER'S BLOOD IS UPON MY FIST... I was supposed to protect them, they looked to me in the darkest of times and I failed them. How can I continue now?"
Hevostan sensed the harrowing guilt gnawing at the oldest Storm Herald and rebuked, "Their deaths are not your fault. You were bedevilled and beguiled by the Lazarus progression, by Abdael. Every death rest solely upon his shoulders, none can blame you."
"They should," Ajax sighed, "It was my hand that did the deed. My weakness that let him in, my waning soul made me the obvious choice. He could have tainted Warmonger Yellico or Tonnant Flamesword but he chose me... because I am old and mad. So many millennia of sorrow, so many deaths... Turgo... Incadle... Lintara... Heroes all, now even their bones are dust. I have lived too long, seen too much. It is past time I died."
Hevostan heard the pain in his voice and knew Ajax was failing once more, his mind sinking into despair. Yet Hevostan knew Ajax well and uttered, "So this is how the tale of Ajax ends; wallowing in self-pity. The pathetic whimper of a weak coward before the night draws in shall be your eulogy."
"YOU DARE!" Ajax bellowed in anger.
"Yes I dare!" Hevostan snapped, "This is beneath you. five millennia of war has failed to end you, are you really going to let those curs be your undoing. The Lazarus Progression is still out there, the Red Hunters still roam free! Shall you let yourself die while enemies still draw breath?! Shall you lay down and die while the Storm Heralds yet have wars to win?!"
"NEVER!" Ajax bellowed, "WHAT WAS I THINKING TO SLINK INTO DEATH, FEELING SORRY FOR MYSELF. THERE ARE ENEMIES STILL TO BE FOUGHT AND AJAX SHALL WREAK SUCH VENGEANCE AS TO MAKE THEM WEEP. THE ALPHA LEGION SHALL PAY FOR WHAT THEY HAVE DONE HERE!"
"Wait, what, who?" Sigas spat.
But Hevostan hissed, "Shut up, shut up, shut up. He's angry, that's enough."
Furiously Ajax growled, "VENGEANCE SHALL BE MINE. TAKE ME TO BE REPAIRED, I MUST BE MADE READY FOR WAR. TELL CHAPTER MASTER TURGO THAT AJAX STANDS READY AND NEXT TIME I SHALL NOT BE SO MERCIFUL TO OUR FOES!"
With that Ajax turned and stormed into the stasis-crypts Sigas trailing in his wake. Hevostan leaned back and let out a breath of relief. Ajax was once more the raging, wild force of nature the Storm Heralds expected him to be. The infection of his mechanical parts was cleansed, but his organic components were yet muddled. Still it was better to have him on their side, than not. War was a tasking business and an asset such as Ajax was not easily discounted, despite his errant mind. The Sodality had managed him for centuries and they would continue to do so for many more. Hevostan snorted to himself as he considered that maybe things wouldn't be changing so much after all. Perhaps in a few decades nobody would truly notice a difference. As the ancient Mechanicus precept taught: the more things change the more they stayed the same. With that thought cheering his hearts he turned on his heel and went back to work on setting the Forges back in order.
