Steel Will
The Manifold pulsed in his mind, a snarl of Binaric fury demanding to be unleashed. He could feel it battering at the walls of his mind, craving carnage and death. It was partly operational data, partly organic minds and part memory of the ancients who had sat in his throne before him, yet the greater part was the Machine Spirit of the Titan. A feral and untamed beast, ever straining at the leash. It was the soul of Ferro Vult but Princeps Yoseph Trasc was its master and his will was iron.
Princeps Trasc was a wasted man, his frame lean and spare. His hair was thinning and the arms clinging to the handles of his throne were thin and liver-spotted. His eyes were rheumy and his uniform stank from weeks of constant wear. Into the back of his head and spine were drilled hundreds of data-shunts, life-support feeds and waste-extraction lines, sustaining his meagre life as he commanded the Titan. He hadn't exercised in weeks and had been living on nothing but nutrients drip-fed into his veins by the Titan's life-support systems.
Surely the day would come when Trasc must ascend to an amniotic coffin and become little more than a sack of skin in the heart of the machine, but that day was years away. For today he sat as a man, weak and doddering in the flesh, but in the machine he was a God. Trasc's vision was the sight of a giant Titan, carrying miles in every direction. His feet covered leagues without noticing, his heart was a star, his skin steel and his arms were death. As a Princeps he had broken armies, laid waste to cities and been cheered by millions of desperate Guardsmen and Skitarii, his coming the Omnissiah's answer to Binaric prayer. Trasc was the Princeps of the Warlord Titan Ferro Vult and none could withstand him.
Trasc cast his rheumy eyes over the cramped cockpit-head of the Warlord and saw his crew communing with the Manifold. It was a tiny space, packed with controls, displays and tangled MIU cables. He could feel crew's souls through their shared link but he spoke to them with his organic voice. It was an essential part of retaining his identity, a reminder that a Titan was both man and machine. The day he lost himself to the Manifold the Titan's spirit would overwhelm him and rampage freely. He must be the master of his God-machine, a burden which only one in a million men had the will to endure.
"Status report," Trasc uttered in a hoarse voice.
From the left the phlegmy voice of Sensorii Jax answered, "No surveyor contacts, but that ammonia storm is generating a lot of electromagnetic interference, auspex return is distorted."
From the right came the jowly voice of Moderatii Yuga, "Void shields stable, weapon-servitors eager to engage. Macro-Gatling cannon loaded, Arioch claw charged and both Plasma Blastguns are primed."
From the nose of the cockpit, the nasal voice of Steersman Junto uttered, "Maintaining half-stride. Terrain is unstable; these ice-flows can barely hold our weight. Recommend we watch our step."
Then over the Manifold came the monotone drawl of Magos Killatt, the senior Tech-Priest of the Titan's crew located in the chest cavity, "Plasma reactor is purring like a carnodon. We have full power at your discretion."
Despite everything Trasc grinned, for a Tech-Priest Killatt had a strange turn of phrase, but he could fix a shattered gyro with nothing but duct-tape and a lit incense-burner, that was worth a bizarre lexicon. Trasc returned to the situation and said, "Keep a sharp eye out, the Orks could be anywhere."
Yuga growled, "Don't count on it. Greenskins wouldn't stick around out here, there's nothing to fight."
Trasc frowned as he admonished, "Reports claim the Orks have a presence in this wasteland. Some form of manufacturing base, maybe even a Stompa factory. Five Skitarii cohorts disappeared in this grid-sector."
Yuga growled, "Useless footsloggers probably froze to death. This mission is a waste of a Warlord."
"Orders are orders," Trasc snapped, "So tend to your duties."
Their debate was cut off as Sensorii Jax called, "Energy spike to port. Emissions are troubling, possible Engine contact, displacement suggest a Stompa."
Ferro Vult roared eagerly in the Manifold and Trasc grinned with anticipation as he ordered, "Junto, take us to port."
Jax asked, "Shall we summon reinforcements?"
"No, Ferro Vult wants this kill all to herself," Trasc growled, "Yuga: I want instant weapon locks. Killatt, bless the reactor, we will need maximum power at a moment's notice."
As one the crew obeyed, turning the Titan about. Their shared union of minds processed staggering levels of data-flow, sharing the workload of the Titan's mighty spirit with consummate skill. Each man was an organic cogitator, their brains hardwired to enmesh with the Titan and make it live. With heavy steps Ferro Vult came about, the slow-motion deceptive as every stride covered immense distances. Trasc exulted in the sensations running through his mind, he had been born for this, raised in the Collegia Titanicus and trained from the earliest age to command a Titan. Only one man in a million had the ability and will to command a Titan and he was such a man.
Trasc turned his attention outside. Beyond the Titan's skin frozen ammonia was crushed underfoot as the Warlord's tread left craters in the ice. They were walking across icebergs, floating on a sea of toxic chemicals. The air was an unbreathable mix of gases, hence why the only Mechanicus and Primaris Marines could fight here. A storm was raging outside, actinic lightning flashes hazing auspex returns. This whole planet was a worthless ball of chemicals, orbiting an uninteresting star. Utterly insignificant save that the Orks had set up a base, which made it a threat to the Indomitus Crusade's flanks. One that had to be eradicated with maximum prejudice.
Trasc was distracted as Steersman Junto pipped up, "Princeps, I'm concerned about the terrain. The ice is thinning and our weight…"
But he was cut off as Sensorii Jax screamed, "Contact! Hostile Engine dead ahead!"
Trasc could see it, a blazing spike of energy erupting across the auspex feeds as something massive emerged from the storm. A towering bulk loomed out of the haze, slab-sided armour plates rended in bloody red. On two waddling feet a mighty effigy of death and destruction burst forth, its mass eclipsing the Warlord by a staggering degree. It was covered in gunz, Zzap cannons and shooters, its front dappled with countless barrels and a huge cannon that stuck out of its belly. A pair of doughty arms hung low at either side, tipped with spinning buzz-saws and over its shoulders rose two extensions, covered in more gunz. It looked ramshackle and crude, a farce of a war machine liable to fall apart at a moment's notice. Yet in typical Ork fashion it not only worked it did so with deadly power. Its face was modelled as a grinning Ork's, leering in savage contempt for its prey and over the vox-waves it screamed, "Blud'spilla! Blud'spilla! Blud'spilla!"
Trasc's jaw fell at the sight and he breathed, "That's no stompa."
Sensorii Jax frantically wrestled with the auspex controls as he cried, "Confirmed! Ork Gargant approaching… no correction: Mega-Gargant!"
"Mega-Gargant," Yuga whispered in shock.
Junto breathed, "Omnissiah preserve us."
Shock and alarm rang through the manifold but Trasc held it at bay as he roared, "Don't just sit there, get me a weapon's lock and open fire!"
Ferro Vult's vox-horns roared as her weapons arrays locked on, then her weapons lit up the world. The right arm spun, multiple barrels clunking about as plumes of fire hurled shells the size of tanks at the leering foe. Her shoulder emplacements lit up with streams of plasma, spitting bolts of star-hot fury at the Ork contraption. Her left arm, fashioned into a fist, blazed as mauler cannons built into the back of the hand erupted. They were designed to clear out infantry formations but they added their fury regardless, desperately trying to overwhelm the enemy's protection.
Trasc watched as his Warlord threw everything she had at the Ork machine, desperate to claim first blood. Waves of plasma and solid shot slammed into the crackling power fields, creating a bubble of destruction around the Mega-Gargant. Yet Blud'spilla took everything the Warlord had to give without qualm, multiple layers of energy shielding absorbing the barrage effortlessly. The monstrosity shrugged off the barrage without suffering a scratch to its paintwork, then it returned fire.
The entire front of the Mega-Gargant lit up, hundreds of barrels firing as one, making the air throb and the ice crack under its feet as violent recoil shook the world. Trasc snarled as he felt the void-shields blowing out, layers of arcane protection failing under the onslaught. Through the manifold synaptic feedback stabbed into the meat of his brain, damage reports rendered into spikes of agony and torment. Ferro Vult's pain was his pain and he gnashed his teeth as overloads rang through the systems, killing servitors and wrecking vital components.
"Shields collapsing!" Jax shouted.
"Losing gyros on the port side," Junto cried, "We're bleeding servitors!"
"Reactor is fibrillating," Killatt called from the heart of the machine.
Trasc could feel it all and his hands locked into death grips on his throne's handles as he snarled, "Continue firing!"
"We're not making a dent on its shields!" Yuga hollered.
"Fire!" Trasc roared, "Rust take you, fire!"
On and on the barrage came, the Mega-Gargant chuckling over the vox-waves as it unleashed hell. Its firepower was staggering, burping shells, Zzap and las in a hurricane of annihilation. Trasc hated it, hated its power, hated its chuckling contempt, he even hated its face. The air between them was a lethal crossfire, both Engines throwing out tons of ordnance. Yet Ferro Vult was not a long-range killer, she was a close-support Titan, designed to get in close and rip the foe apart. At range Blud'spilla had the advantage.
"We must overload the Plasma blastguns!" Yuga shouted.
"Denied," Trasc snarled, "Ready the Arioch claw. Reserve power to the motive systems: Full Stride!"
Junto gasped, "But the ice, it can't support…"
"Walk!" Trasc roared, "Walk damn you!"
With great strides Ferro Vult began to walk. She marched straight into the barrage; her void shields a mere gossamer veil holding back total destruction. Straight into the mouth of hell the Warlord marched, closing the range step by step. Blud'spilla redoubled its efforts, flinging tons of ordnance at the Titan, a barrage that would have laid waste a city. Trasc felt every blow on the shields like a punch to the gut, he felt the Machine Spirit screaming in the manifold, he felt the air shaking and the ice under his feet cracking under the Titan's weight. He felt it all, but his will was iron and he pressed forward with unrelenting determination into the face of death.
Agonisingly slowly Ferro Vult closed, then both energy barriers touched and blinked out, leaving both Engines exposed. Trasc roared as his left arm jerked on the throne, responding to the swing of the Arioch claw. A hand as big as a Baneblade tank thrust forward, fingers the size of Dreadnoughts slamming into the Mega-Gargant. Crackling power fields chewed through armour like parchment, crumpling thick plates and spilling gunz and Orks like polluted blood. A sweep across the front of Blud'spilla ripped away a dozen gunz, shattering the frontage of the Gargant and leaving a trail of destruction down its chest.
Trasc snarled in triumph but his elation was short-lived. The Mega-Gargant's arms thrust forward and the spinning buzzsaw slammed into Ferro Vult. Now it was the Imperial Titan who suffered, her belly torn apart. Whirling buzzsaws cut through armour and internal systems, shattering gyros, eviscerating servitors and crewmen and spilling vital plasma from energy conduits. The guts of the Titan spilled out but then the reactor controls were destroyed, sending overloads racing through the system and blowing out the surge buffers.
Trasc screamed as he felt the lives of his crew winking out, their brains melted by overloading feedback. Their connection to the Manifold conducted electricity into their brains and they died instantly, heads reduced to charcoal. Yuga and Junto died, blood pouring from their eyes and ears and Trasc felt the full weight of the manifold fall upon him, neural overload threatening to end him.
Jax was shouting, "They're gone, they're just gone!"
But Trasc snarled through his agony, "Hold!"
"Plasma reactor is suffering hypovolemia!" Killatt screamed through the manifold.
Trasc knew it, he could feel Ferro Vult dying, bleeding energy and lives. As Blud'spilla withdrew its arms the Warlord staggered, almost toppling over. One more hit would end them and Trasc knew he had no power to resist. The Ork could finish them with ease. His mind was straining to hold together, the neural load almost too much to bear. Without his crew he had to remember to breathe, every beat of his heart requiring a conscious effort. Yet he would not relent.
Throwing everything he had into the Manifold Trasc took direct control of the legs, causing the Titan to walk backwards. Ferro Vult resisted him, trying to drive forward again, but he overrode the Machine Spirit with sheer will.
"I am your Princeps and you will obey me," Trasc snarled.
"We're retreating?!" Jax gasped.
"Shut up!" Trasc snarled as he stepped back three paces then halted.
Blud'spilla leered at him, its many gunz coming to bear once more. One volley would finish the crippled Warlord but Trasc was not done, his hatred of the foe driving him on. Breathe, he thought, remember to breathe, as he abandoned the legs and threw his mind into the Macro-Gatling cannon, lowering the right arm forty-five degrees: then he fired. The mighty cannon spun and a tongue of fire erupted, throwing tank-sized shells at the Mega-Gargant's feet. Ice plumes peppered the feet of the Ork contraption with chemical stews and Blud'spilla paused, unable to comprehend what was happening, but its gunz came to bear regardless. But then it paused as a vibration rang up its legs.
The ice, weakened by the weight of two Engines and melted by the heat of their exchange, gave way. Cracking lines of blackness ran through the ice, widening with every shell that slammed into the ground. It splintered and creaked as it tore apart, then it gave way, shattering into a million pieces of tiny flotsam. The ice crumbled and with a rumble that shook the world it dropped the Mega-Gargant into the icy depths.
One second Blud'spilla was standing proud, the next it was toppling into the sea. Its bulk dragging its form into the depths as Greenskins jumped from the head and shoulders. They failed to reach safety for the Mega-Gargant was too heavy and it plummeted into the sea like a stone, disappearing feet-first into the unplumbed depths. The last to disappear was the head, casting one last leer before it sank out of sight, leaving no trace it had ever been there.
Trasc released his control of the limbs with a gasp of relief, struggling to remember to breathe. He sagged in his throne and let the Manifold go, sinking into a stupor. Sensorii Jax was crying, "Engine kill! Engine Kill!"
He should have been elated but all Trasc could gasp was, "Secure… reactor. Quieten the Manifold, soothe the Machine Spirit. Vox-cast a distress call, tell command… we require an emergency repair team." Then his head flopped back and he stared at the ceiling as his chest heaved and Ferro Vult purred approval into his mind.