Extremus Fors Chapter 18
"Just admit it, you're lost!" Novak spat.
"IT WAS HERE," Ajax replied, his booming voice filling the descending passage.
"We're wasting time looking for something that's probably buried under a glacier," Novak retorted, "We should backtrack to the last junction and head up, not down."
"DO NOT QUESTION ME CHAMPION THIMARL," Ajax rumbled, "I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING."
"Novak… my name is Novak."
Ajax paused for a second, then said, "I KNOW THAT, NOW SHUT UP AND LET ME THINK."
Ajax headed down the winding passage, leaving the Astartes to follow. Novak gritted his teeth, having no other option save to carry on. Ajax's course had been straight as an arrow for three days, or as close to straight as the maze of tunnels and caves allowed. The Dreadnought seemed to be heading somewhere specific, somewhere only he knew but steadfastly refused to explain. Novak could only trust they were heading in the general direction of the Daemonsword, and not on a wild greaske chase.
Geryon sidled nearer and whispered, "He called you Thimarl… again."
"I noticed," Novak whispered, "He's slipping again."
"Troubling, the last time he did that he went on a rampage."
Arvael was listening in and hissed, "The Honourable's mental state has been unstable for many centuries, this is the last place he should be. I sense old memories bubbling to the surface in his mind, confusing reality with the past. He sees terrible battles replayed in his mind."
Novak grimaced at the psychic pronouncement, no Space Marine ever being entirely comfortable with the nature of the Psyker. But worse was the thought that Ajax could lose his grip on his surroundings. If the Dreadnought was chasing ancient foes through these tunnels then the whole mission could be ruined. Cold pragmatism demanded they abandon Ajax and press on, but honour would not permit it. Ajax was the most venerated Dreadnought in the Chapter, thousands of years older than his nearest comrade. To abandon Ajax would strike at the very spirit of Brotherhood. All they could do was press on and trust Ajax would hold together long enough to complete the mission.
Suddenly Ajax stopped at a wall of ice and proclaimed, "HERE IT IS!"
"I don't see anything," Cortha stated bluntly.
But Geryon countered, "Auspex is reading a large cavern beyond this wall, it's thin enough to…"
His words were cut short by Ajax's fist ramming into the barrier, shattering it into a billion pieces of ice. A cold wind blew from beyond, streaming from a vast cavern that reached far beyond the illumination of their stablights. Ajax stomped inside and Novak was a step behind, but pulled up short when he saw what lay within. An oval crevice in the ice had formed, filled with glittering stalactites and stalagmites. They surrounded a grey ziggurat, with many levels, rising to a platform with pipes and cables that rose into the roof. Every level was stamped with a variation of Mechanicus symbols, the skull and cog carved proudly into the front. Novak was amazed to find a deserted Forgefane in this place, but more important was the fact they were standing in the ruins of a battlefield.
Everywhere Novak looked bodies lay, many encased in ice that had grown over them. Scores of bodies in Storm Herald blue, their armour perfectly preserved. Tactical squads, devastators, assault Marines with breaching shields, all lay where they fell. Novak noted the distinctive marks of Narthecium drills on the bodies, the sacred gene-seed harvested for return to the Chapter as was proper, but that the bodies had been left to rot was shocking. Tanks were among them, Predators and Vindicators, a Thunderfire cannon could be seen, even a Castraferrum Dreadnought. A trove of relics that should never have been abandoned.
Their enemies were present too, Skitarii in immense number. The cyborg warriors had been blown apart by concentrated bolter fire, their remains scattered far and wide. Many of their own vehicles were laid out too, Onagers, Skorpius anti-grav, long-legged Ironstriders. That they had been defending the Forgefane was obvious, but the ancestral Storm Heralds had ground through the defence, paying in blood to advance. Novak could read their valiant charges in the pattern of the bodies, the bitter repulses and fierce brawls where the fighting got close and vicious.
"So many," Novak breathed.
"I see marks of Second, Fourth and Fifth Companies," Arvael observed.
"Three whole Companies, for one action," Cortha breathed, "This campaign was more significant than I imagined."
"WE DID NOT BRING THREE COMPANIES," Ajax rumbled, "WE BROUGHT THEM ALL."
"All?!" Novak gasped, "The whole Chapter committed to one assault?"
"A THOUSAND SPACE MARINES FOLLOWED INCADLE TO THIS MOON, AND BEYOND. WE CHASED THE HERETEKS ACROSS THE GALAXY AND BY THE TIME WE BURNED THE LAST TRACE OF INSANITY AWAY, WE NUMBERED BARELY A HUNDRED AND FIFTY."
Arvael breathed, "To think such losses were never memorialised, so many names missing from the Scrolls of Honour."
Cortha knelt by a fallen body and placed a black gauntlet on the body as he intoned, "Hail to the victorious dead. You died far from the shores of your home, but know that through your sacrifice the Chapter lives on. May your shade find rest eternal, secure in the knowledge that your legacy endures among the living. Though your name is lost, your blood shall endure forever."
Novak watched as the Chaplain moved on, administering last rites to the fallen. The Champion turned to Ajax and asked, "So why are we here?"
"THERE ARE MANY HIDDEN FORGEFANES ON THIS MOON. MORE THAN WE CAN UNCOVER IN THE TIME REMAINING. WE NEED A WAY TO NARROW OUR SEARCH, WE NEED A MAP."
"Try to find a cogitator," Arvael suggested.
"What of the Pariah?" Geryon asked.
Novak glanced at the servitor-mule, which had been lurking at the back. From under a pile of thermal blankets came a soft snore, deep and rhythmic. "Let him sleep," Novak replied as they walked off, leaving Cortha to his duties.
They set off at a brisk pace, picking their way around ice pillars and frozen corpses. Novak stepped gingerly, not wishing to disturb the dead. They passed a Skorpius tank, with its side caved in and Ajax paused, placing his fist into the indentation. It fit perfectly and the Honourable let slip a snort of approval, remembering a noteworthy kill, if Novak was any judge. The burnt-out Castraferrum provoked a silent moment of reflection, the fallen hero within giving up his half-life for the cause. He wished he could mark this location for later, so the Chapter could come and retrieve the lost relic, but knew they would never come back. Time was short and this moon would be obliterated utterly, this graveyard would be ashes soon.
Swiftly they reached the Forgefane but ran into a problem. The entrance was lined by a great lintel, carved with frescos of battle, but beyond was nothing but rubble. The interior of the Forgefane had collapsed, maybe just the doorway, maybe the whole ground level, but either way it was impassable. Digging this out would take weeks, time they didn't have.
"Karyl's Hairy arse," Novak cursed.
"I can scry through the rubble, see how deep it is," Arvael suggested.
"It's worth a try," Novak sighed, "But I doubt it will do any good."
"Wait," Geryon said, "Look here, this could work."
He knelt by the doorway and dug at the piled ice, pulling free a corpse. This one was different, not a Space Marine or a Skitarii, but a far more select being. A faded red robe hid preserved flesh, ice-blasted features frozen into eternal stasis. Embedded in that face were bulky augmetics and protruding sensor-vanes, extensive and of high-quality. A Tech-Priest of high rank, one with access to many secrets.
"Can you dig a map out of that?" Novak asked.
"The memno-coils are perfectly preserved, sealed against moisture and decay. Should I provide Motive Force and awaken the Machine Spirits I can access the logs, if the Omnissiah favours us."
Geryon pulled back the hood and then took a pair of mechandrites from his own armour and connected them to a port on the metal skull. The Primaris' backpack whined louder, as his systems took on the load of the dead magos, stirring circuits to wakefulness as he sought to interface with the Magos's memories.
Novak guessed it would take a few minutes and spied Arvael examining the lintel. The Librarian was brushing ice from the carvings and peering at the figures, seemingly fascinated by the ancient engravings. Novak leaned over, seeing hordes of mutants and evil-looking Traitors depicted in impressionistic form, lest a true image drive the beholder mad. Set against them were Space Marines of noble aspect. They were badly beset, but not alone. On the opposite side marched another order of being, their heraldry unknown, but every one seemed to be on fire.
"That's unusual," Novak sniffed.
"That's us I presume?" Arvael asked placing a finger on a Storm Herald fighting under a banner of the spiral and starburst.
Ajax didn't say anything, silence his answer. Novak shook his head and said, "Storm Heralds, Night Lords… I think. But who are those fellows?"
"A legend," Arvael breathed.
"Could you be less cryptic?"
"I think…" Arvael hesitantly stated, "I think that is the Legion of the Damned."
"Legion of the Damned?!" Novak laughed, "Arvael, everyone knows they aren't real."
"There are many records of their unexpected appearances," the Librarian countered.
But Novak scoffed, "Everyone knows they're a myth, no more real than the Sanguinor or the Grey Knights!"
It was then Ajax broke his silence, "THE LEGION OF THE DAMNED ARE NO MYTH. I SAW THEM ONCE, AT CADIA."
"You…" Novak gulped in shock, "You saw them, they're real?!"
"REAL IS STRETCHING THE TERM, BUT THEY DO EXIST. SPECTRAL FIGURES OF FIRE AND BONE. THEY CAME FROM NOWHERE AND LAY WASTE TO THE ENEMY. FOUL MAGIC AND WITCHFIRE SLOUGHED OFF THEM LIKE RAINWATER. GHOSTS, MUTANTS, ENVOYS OF THE EMPEROR'S WILL… WE NEVER HAD A CHANCE TO ASK. THEY KILLED EVERY LAST TRAITOR THEN VANISHED, LEAVING ONLY MYSTERIES."
"How does this place connect with the Legion?" Arvael asked, "Is this where they come from?"
"THIS CRACKED PETRI-DISH?!" Ajax scoffed, "NO, WE NEVER SAW THEM AGAIN, BUT THE IDEA THEY PLANTED GREW, DANGEROUS IDEAS. Lazar thinks to replicate their power… he is committing heresy… Empyric engineering… his madness will doom us all… WE MUST STOP IT. TELL INCADLE TO HASTEN THE ADVANCE. WE MUST REACH THE CENTRAL NEXUS BEFORE LAZAR UNLEASHES THE UNDYING…"
Novak and Arvael shared a loaded glance. Ajax's mind was roaming again, drifting back to ancient battles. They were about to speak and try to ground his mind, but then Geryon let out a cry. Novak spun about and saw the dead Magos twitching, his eyes flickering as the Primaris' awoke his systems. The jaw clacked for a moment then let out a Binaric hiss.
Novak lifted his sword but Geryon waved them back saying, "I have access."
"Can you find a map?" Arvael pressed.
"Maps, yes and more… there's research notes in here… heavily encrypted... all I can access are references to something called the Extremis Paradigm… Wait… there's an active file… he was killed while recording a log."
Novak looked upon the corpse as its jaw moved up and down and an artificial voice uttered, "Outer defences are gone... We have reinforced… cannot hold. Storm H…. betrayed us… Obeck has betrayed us… odious rust-scrounger was never to be trusted, we should never have brought him into the Censor project. Lazar should... the Soul-Burning… Obeck… at our discoveries and ran off to his Chapter, bleating of Heresy… Heralds march on our great works. I have sent word to Lazar to withdraw, but he needs more time… secure research data… shall hold this position as long as possible. All units have been ordered to… Breach! Breach in the west wall! Redeploy all forces to… Concentrate fire, they must not close… target the Dreadnought, the Dreadnought! Face me… no, it is you who are the Heretek… Help me, I cannot move… Omnissiah forgive us, we have failed you…"
The voice fell silent as Geryon removed his mechandrites and let the head fall. Novak was more confused than ever and said, "What was that?"
"I do not know," Geryon said, "But it seems the magos was trying to buy time."
"Did you get the maps?" Arvael pressed.
"I did," Geryon stated, "We should be able to search the most important sites, if we move quickly enough."
Ajax rumbled, "THEN LET US WASTE NO MORE TIME. COME CHAMPION THIMARL, WE MUST MOVE, BEFORE LAZAR MAKES HIS ESCAPE."
The Dreadnought turned and stomped off, suffering no questions. The others shook their heads and followed, angling to collect their comrades and depart. They left the frozen graveyard to be lost in the dark forever. Silence fell as they left, leaving a realm of midnight black, its mysteries never to be answered.
