This chapter took a while to write. Sorry, been busy with a lot of things. Didn't want to forget about my other fics, you know how it is.
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"What seems to be the problem?" Horus entered the war-room, where his brothers Guilliman and Corax awaited over a holotable displaying the Segmentum Primus- the Heart of Mankind. "Our arrival comes as a surprise?"
"Yes, but not the good kind." Corvus, grim as always, replayed an encrypted vox-transmission picked up from the channels sent back and forth in the local systems. The message repeated twice,
"++ Vox-Transmission Designation Red ++ Alpha Thirteen-Six-Nine-Six++ Glory to the Emperor and his Eternal Throne! Servants of the Imperium, the time has come. Rumor had given birth to truth. The Arch-Traitor Horus Lupercal has returned from the dead, stronger and more powerful than ever before! While our mighty Primarchs slept, his Talon had slipped into their minds, poisoning them until they were swayed into the side of Chaos! A worse fate awaits the worlds he has touched, for they now stand tainted- a plan the Arch-Traitor dares to enact upon Holy Terra! He marches now for Segmentum Solar, unabated as his foul treachery has deceived so many we thought vigilant!
Join the fleets mustering about the Eternity Gate! Fill your hearts with hate, you who have heard the truth spoken, that there shall be no room for doubt! May your zeal guide you through the approaching darkness, and give you strength when we shall soon face the Arch-Traitor!
Emperor help us all! ++ Transmission End ++"
"Damnation."
"Agreed." Corax said with a nod, "Our approach to Terra has been blocked at every turn." The tactical map showed as much as the Raven Lord said. The Imperial routes leading into the heart of the Imperium had been set upon by the thousand-strong Imperial fleets, and with each passing day they grew by the hundred. With the battered state of the Terran Crusade armada, though bolstered by the Ravenguard flotilla, a direct confrontation would undoubtedly end in failure.
Horus had no intention on attacking Terra a second time. He had hoped that his actions in recent times would be enough to shed enough of the Imperium's doubts of his allegiance to mankind. And yet, as evident of what he saw and heard, it was not to be.
Guilliman was enraged. "Those backbiting cowards!" He needn't say it, the frustration over the backward thinking of the human race in this dark millennium was great on their end.
"I've analyzed every detail." Corax pointed to each and every one of the guarded routes, "There lies not one flaw in their defense makeup. Clearly, your past attempt to take Terra had left little room for bravado. Even Rogal Dorn would be pleased with their work."
"I am not here to seize Terra, brother." Horus frowned, "I am here to bring hope to the Imperium, not with sword or bolter-fire, but with words born from the lips of our father the Emperor. Attacking the defense fleets will render all I've worked for undone. Instead of marching upon them with weapons primed, we must focus on a way to convince the High Lords of Terra of our true intentions."
"Diplomacy will not work with these people." Guilliman snorted, "I had great difficulty, even with my influence, to turn the hatred of Ultramar away from you. How much more for Terra and the whole Solar Segmentum, who take hatred and loathing of you to a new level? Kind words and promises of peace will not sway them."
"Perhaps not through me." Horus mused, "Humor me, what is it that they fight for?"
"An easy inquiry." Corvus Corax crossed his arms, "They fight for the Emperor and the Imperium, they'll fight even harder knowing that the Golden Throne is but a sky away from the second Horus Heresy."
Ignoring the latter of the sentence, Horus replied. "Then they will follow the words of the Emperor to the letter, would they not?"
"What are you getting at, Horus?"
"All of us had been given the chance to speak to our father through the astral form. I propose that we give that same chance to the Imperium, who have waited for the silence to break with baited breath." The Cthonian grinned, "The Emperor's grip on reality is waning, but we can lend him strength as he had lent us his."
"I like where this is going." Guilliman smirked.
"We're going to build a Psychic Amplifier, wrought by no one else but Archmagos Cawl." Horus said, "With it, mankind shall hear the Emperor's words and they shall know the error of their ways. We don't even need to raise our weapons against one another. The war upon Terra would've ended before it even started."
"It will be a tremendous undertaking, that's for sure." Guilliman nodded, "But with the Adeptus Mechanicus, what is too impossible to build?"
"We'd better get to work then." Corvus placed his hands over the war-table, "In the meantime, I shall continue to find ways to counter the assault of the defense fleets should things go south."
"Brother, have faith." Horus smiled, "We've been through worse."
The Raven Lord shook his head, "Our father always said; When in doubt, know your way out."
Roboute Guilliman was halfway across the elevator when he strove to correct his brother's remark with a humorous jibe, "Actually, I believe it was; When in doubt, burn them out."
++ Distance to Combat Zone/
_30 KM
Pilot Status/
_
No Data ++
The earth shook as every footstep deliberately planted itself full, weight measuring a hundred tons promising a fiery death to all who would stand against the ancient killing machine.
++ Directive Code 108-AE108/
Waking Pilot/ ++
With rusting frame and livery worn away by the elements, yet carrying on with the strength of the centuries, the Freeblade Knight Braveheart marched on as it had always done for much of its life, serving the vengeful pilot it housed within its Throne Mechanicum. The screen within the shell of plasteel and hard ceramite flickered to life, finally dragging the pilot out of his long slumber.
++ Interface Handshake Successful/
Awaiting Pilot Commands/++
Maxwell groaned and sat himself upright. Being hooked up to a neural interface engine did not allow much room for mobility in the Throne Mechanicum, but with what little he could make of his situation he moved to drive the soreness out from his aching muscles. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. A wise man once said that in a time long forgotten, words that described the knight errant's state quite accurately.
The machine-spirit, on the other hand, as was its plasteel-ceramiticate counterpart, proved hardy in the face of the storms of time. For near a century Maxwell Raritan had roamed the Ricala Expanse, lending his Plasma Decimators that fired a nigh-limitless stream of blue ionizing charges as aid to the helpless colonies dotting the rich green worlds within the Expanse.
The HUD showed the pilot his destination, which lay at the bottom of a massive chasm carved out by an ancient river that had long dried up. The remains of long-dead war engines piled up at the muddied banks like gravestones in a cemetery, a permanent impression made in the wake of a senseless battle of old that never reached its climax- much like the wars fought today.
Deathsinger, a ruthless adamantine-toothed chain-grinder and Doomsayer, a volcano lance powerful enough to core out a lumbering Squiggoth or behead an enemy Titan- the oracles of death, lay within arms reach and eager to bathe the Knight's enemies with blood and fire.
After standing at the edge of the cliffs, by all accounts there seemed to be no enemy here today, much to Raritan's disappointment.
Annoyed that his time had been wasted, the Knight lumbered off in search of another battle, still wondering what drew his Titan to this area in the first place. The machine-spirits have been playing tricks on him again, he was sure of it.
++ Warning: Anomaly Detected/
Automatic Defense Protocols Initiated ++
An anomaly? "It better not be another false alarm." Raritan muttered. Over the years he had grown accustomed to allowing the Titan to search out his enemies for him, finding that the servitor-brains piloting the auto-cycles were more than capable of such a task when left to themselves. In this universe fraught with war, one needn't look too far for an enemy- and the servitors always found one for him.
What Raritan secretly craved was a friend, more than he ever needed an enemy. The vengeful fire that burned in his heart had been left to mere embers by now, and the Knight had grown weary of battle without even truly realizing it.
++ HUD Updated/
Recommend Caution ++
The Knight returned to the spot on the cliff he had stood upon earlier and prepared to make the jump. The HUD showed that the anomaly was located The servos primed, whirring noisily as the heavy body bent at the knees and leaped off the ledge into the chasm below. The rush of air stole the breath from Raritan's lungs as he hurtled across empty space. His lips contorted into a grimace as he prepared himself for the inevitable impact that would soon follow.
Though the force of the crash was suspended equally throughout the Titan's stabilizers, Raritan could feel the resulting shudder violently shake his innards from within their cavities. Recovering quickly, the Knight readied his weapons and pressed forward, following the trench dug into the mecha graveyard he had jumped into. Something like a meteor or a form of satellite had crashed here, certainly not of human make. The Freeblade had seen his fair share of stranger things, so it came as no surprise that the anomaly would be of xeno origin. Still, he had to investigate. This system held one human colony, and so all the threats he deemed as such should be treated seriously.
The meteor was wrought from an unknown metal, possibly the remains of an ancient vessel that stumbled into the system and was brought down by the planet's gravity field. It still glowed with the heat of re-entry, not more than a couple hours old as it would seem.
Unlike most Titans, Braveheart was created with a pair of functional hands for tasks that required a more dexterous approach. It proved useful in this instance, and Raritan used them to purpose.
The shreds wrapping the artifact were torn away, and the Knight soon found himself staring at a strange sarcophagus-shaped capsule that housed some form of liquid metal. Raritan tilted his head to the side as the omniscanners registered the substance as unknown, classifying the search as nil and recommended that the Knight abandon the investigation entirely.
"Not a total waste of time." Raritan shrugged, opting to leave the artifact where he found it. "Let some scavenger make use of this."
++ WARNING! Weapons Discharge Detected!/
Primary Shields Activated/
Combat Systems Primed and Ready for Battle/ FOR THE EMPEROR! ++
Screaming warheads thundered against the Braveheart's massive shoulder, Raritan gazed outward unfazed as he leered at his assailants. "Got that right." There were six of them, half were interceptor-class frigates and half were battle-drones about the size of his own Titan- all of xeno origin. Deathsinger roared to life, and Doomsayer echoed his brother with a shrill whine. Raritan gave no battlecry as he charged headlong into the fray, guns and chain-grinder screaming at the foul xeno machinations.
One of them came at him from behind while he busied himself with the first. They were armed with digi-weaponry, a marvel of technology that Raritan had only witnessed the Tau could only use. But these were not Tau, they were too adept in the melee to be considered as such. Razor sharp lances of light shot out from their gauntlets, striking at the Braveheart's shields with the force of a shifting tectonic plate. The HUD screamed every second he spent in combat, for the xenos never let a single moment slip by that they would not strike at the Freeblade Titan.
++ WARNING! Primary Shields Approaching Critical Levels!
Rerouting Auxillary Power/ ++
"Damnation!" Raritan huffed. His weapons were near overheated, and he still hadn't made a single dent on either one of his opponents! He had underestimated them, a mistake that could very well cost his life. He would not die- not to the xenos!
One of them knocked Braveheart so hard that the Titan lost its balance, driving away the last shred of shielding Raritan had on hand and sending the Freeblade toppling over onto its back! Raritan forced the hands to raise their weapons in spite of his position, he managed to get them halfway up before the massive foot of the xeno-Titan clamped down on Deathsinger. A lance drove itself on Doomsayer, pinning the Volcano Lance upon the earth.
The Knight narrowed his eyes as he glared defiantly up at his enemies. With a single thought, he instructed the servitors to initiate the Final Protocol.
++ FINAL PROTOCOL INITIATED/
STANDING BY...++
If he was to die, he would take them down with them. If he failed to do so, he wouldn't live long enough to regret it.
Suddenly, the artifact he had left naught but a few meters away from the battle sprung to life, sending the seemingly-sentient gooey substance out of the capsule and into the surprised visage of the first xeno-Titan! Raritan could not believe his eyes as he watched the living metal dissolve the armor of the enemy mecha with ease, then witnessed as it issued a violent takeover, forcing the Titan to turn on its fellows and strike them down where they stood!
Raritan was no simpleton. They hadn't come looking for a mere fight with an ancient war-machine like the Braveheart. They came for the artifact.
It was of xeno origin, that much was clear, but it was more advanced technologically-speaking than anything he'd ever seen. This was no daemonic entity, for the Warp was not strong in this place. Experience with Chaos-ridden systems had taught him much. This was something else entirely.
++ FINAL PROTOCOL READY/
Awaiting Pilot Commands/ ++
"Deactivate." Raritan muttered, focusing all his efforts to get his Titan back on its feet. To his dismay, he was unable to do so.
The last of the enemy Titans had fallen, and the possessed one stood triumphant. As the frigates dove down to neutralize it, the Titan wrested them away from the skies with a casual leap and brought them down against the earth. A few stomps and savage tears later, the ships burst into flames. Standing tall over the wrecks, the Titan turned towards the fallen Freeblade, its intentions still unclear to the astonished human. As it approached, Raritan desperately tried to lift the fractured limbs of his Titan to bring its weapons to bear. Even with all the might of the ancient war-machine, it could not do so with so much sustained damage.
He could not reactivate the Final Protocol in time for whatever the entity planned, so the Knight was forced to await his fate with baited breath.
He expected it to drive its lance through the battered surface of the Braveheart's armor, impaling him upon its tip to send him screaming to the void, but then wondered why it hesitated.
Maxwell Raritan needn't wait too long for the answer to his question, for the living-substance leaped free from its mount, latching onto the Braveheart's hull and squeezing itself through the cracks of its armor! Moving with the speed of a serpent slithering downhill, the substance poured through every breach and shattered surface, forcing the cracks to close as it made its way into the Throne Mechanicum.
Paralyzed with fear and indecision, Raritan could only watch as the entity moved to repair the Titan- only as means to serve as its new host! Inside the Braveheart, he was helpless. The Knight prayed that whatever fate was reserved for him, it would not involve the slaughter of the innocents.
++ WARNING! Neural Interface System Compromised!
Detected Foreign Influence/
Attempting to Compensate/
ERROR! REQUESTING MANUAL OVERRIDE ++
Suddenly, everything within the Throne Mechanicum was plunged into darkness as the entity succeeded in overriding the servitor auto-cycle. A new voice spoke in the shell, addressing the pilot- now a prisoner within his own mount.
++ Apologies for the inconvenience, but I must commandeer this vehicle. You will hate me for this, that is certain, but I hope that in time you will come to understand. ++
Something cold slips into the back of his head, and Raritan soon felt himself drift away. Struggling at that point was futile, but struggle he did. Soon, the pilot fell asleep, leaving the Braveheart in full control of the Abomination Intelligence.
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Credits to Kaizero6, who provided the idea for Freeblade Knight Braveheart and the OC Maxwell Raritan.