Hellsreach - Aaron Dembski-Bowden [19]
And then Sarren makes it worse.
‘In three days, they will decide if they are to come to our aid, or deploy along the Hemlock River with the rest of their Legio.’
I quench the rush of fury through a moment’s significant effort. ‘There is a chance they will not even walk in our defence?’
‘So it seems,’ Sarren nods.
‘Projections have the enemy breaching the orbital defences in four to nine days,’ one of the other Steel Legion colonels – his name is Hargus – speaks from across the table. ‘So we have time to allow them the largesse they require.’
None of us are seated now. The siren’s drone has been lowered to less inconvenient levels, and speech is a realistic possibility for the unenhanced human officers once again.
‘I am going to the view-tower,’ I inform them. ‘I wish to look upon this problem with my own eyes. Is the moderati primus still within the hive?’
‘Yes, Reclusiarch.’
‘Tell him meet to me there.’ I pause as I stride from the room, and look back over my shoulder. ‘Be polite, but do not ask. Tell him.’
CHAPTER IV
Invigilata
Moderati Primus Valian Carsomir scratched at the greying stubble that darkened his jawline. His time was limited, and he had made that clear.
‘You are not alone in that position,’ Grimaldus pointed out.
Carsomir smiled darkly, though not without empathy. ‘The difference, Reclusiarch, is that I do not intend to die here. My princeps majoris is still in doubt if Invigilata will walk for Helsreach.’
The knight moved to the railing, his armour joints humming with the gentle motions. The viewing platform was a modest space atop the central spire of the command fortress, but Grimaldus had spent much of his time up here each night, staring over the hive as it made ready for war.
In the faded distance, over the city walls, his gene-enhanced sight could make out the skeletal details of Titans on the horizon. There, in the wastelands, Invigilata’s engines also made ready. Fat-hulled landers made the wallowing journey back into orbit as part of the final phase of Imperial deployment. Soon, within a matter of days, there would be no hope of landing anything more on the planet’s surface.
‘This is the greatest of Armageddon’s port cities. We are about to be assaulted by the largest greenskin-breed xenos invasion ever endured by the Imperium of Man.’ The Astartes did not turn to the Titan pilot. He watched the gigantic war machines, blurred by the sandy mist of distant dust storms. ‘We must have Titans, Carsomir.’
The officer stepped alongside the Astartes, his bionic eyes – both with lenses of multifaceted jade set in bronze mountings – clicking and whirring as he followed the knight’s gaze over the city and beyond.
‘I am aware of your need.’
‘My need? It is the hive’s need. Armageddon’s need.’
‘As you say, the hive’s need. But I am not the princeps majoris. I report on the hive’s defences to her, and the decision is hers to make. Invigilata has received strong petitions from other cities, and other forces.’
Grimaldus closed his eyes in thought. Unblinking, his skulled helm continued to stare at the distant Titans.
‘I must speak with her.’
‘I am her eyes, ears and voice, Reclusiarch. What I know, she knows; what I say, she has bid me speak. If you wish, I could – perhaps – arrange a conversation over the vox. But I am here – a man of not inconsiderable station myself – to show that Invigilata is earnest in its dealings with you.’
Grimaldus said nothing for several seconds.
‘I appreciate that. I am not blind to your rank. Tell me, moderati, is it permissible to speak with your princeps majoris in person?’
‘No, Reclusiarch. That would be a violation of Invigilata tradition.’
Grimaldus’s brown eyes opened once more, drinking in the scarce detail of the war machines on the horizon.
‘Your objection is noted,’ the knight said, ‘and duly ignored.’
‘What?’ the Titan pilot said, not sure he heard correctly.
Grimaldus didn’t answer. He was already speaking into the vox.
‘Artarion,