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Storm Of Iron(科幻战争)-第23章

小说: Storm Of Iron(科幻战争) 字数: 每页3500字

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plasma annihilator towards the fortress in mocking salute。
Honsou knew the commanding officers in Tor Christo would be watching the arrival of these magnificent war machines; and the
message they delivered was sure to be clear。
Your time has come。
SEVEN
MAGOS FERIAN CORSIL adjusted the dials on the communications panel again; tweaking the broadcast bandwidth in an attempt to
increase the capacity of the long range vox…casters。 Beside him; the row of servitors plugged into the long vox…console sat in
lobotomised silence; each attuned to one of the various Imperial Guard frequencies。 Their shaven heads and cable…plugged eye
sockets nodded monotonously in time with the cycling bands of static that filled their skulls。
Since the unexplained quarantining of the Star Chamber by Magos Naicin; they had been forced to try and adapt the vox…casters to
provide them with some sort of link to the outside world。 Much as it went against everything Corsil had learned on Mars; he had
spent the last day and a half working on a dozen disassembled vox…panels attempting to alter the divinely decreed circuitry within
each blessed device。
A burst of static spat from the speakers indicating the machine spirit's displeasure and Corsil hastily made his obeisance to it。
'Blessed machine; a thousand pardons for my unworthy hands。 Deus in Machina。'
Mechadendrites waved from his spine plugs like dreaming snakes; each ribbed; copper prosthetic terminating in mechanised digits
or some form of power…driven tool。 Two mechadendrites worked deep inside an open access panel on the side of the console;
adjusting the power couplings in attempt to reroute some of the power to the broadcast amplifier。
If he could isolate some of the more redundant systems … perish the thought that such a term could exist in relation to a machine …
then he might be able to increase the range of the vox…casters by up to four per cent。 His mechadendrites continued working away
inside the panel as he cycled through the various vox…nets。
As he hit upon the squad…level net; a servitor suddenly stopped its repetitive bobbing and sat upright; its mouth jerking into life。
'—dy hear me? What the hell's the point of a vox if no fragger ever answers?'
Corsil jumped at the sound of the voice; knocking the dial on the panel and glancing in puzzlement at the servitor as it returned to
its previous static…filled life。 The squad…level vox…net? That was normally reserved for small unit actions; for platoon and squad
leaders to issue tactical orders。 It was not supposed to be in use now。
Hurriedly he returned the dial to its previous setting and disengaged his mechadendrites from beneath the console。
Once again; the servitor sat upright; its expressionless face relaying the message from this unknown source。
'…come in。 This is Guardsman Julius Hawke; serial number 25031971; lately of listening post Sigma IV; I repeat this is
Guardsman Julius Hawke attempting to raise Imperial forces in either Tor Christo or the citadel。 Enemy Titans are inbound on
your position together with brigade strength armour and infantry support。'
Corsil stared; open mouthed; at the console and the servitor relaying Hawke's message for long seconds before bolting from the
room。
WORD OF HAWKE'S survival spread quickly through the upper command echelons of the citadel with mixed reactions。 Many
believed it was a trick of the invaders to feed them disinformation; while others felt that the Emperor had spared this man for some
divine purpose。 The irony of the idea that a man like Hawke could be an instrument of divine purpose was not lost on the officers
that knew him。
Castellan Vauban paced his chambers; sipping a glass of amasec and pondering the Hawke dilemma。 Lieutenant Colonel Leonid
sat behind a desk reviewing Major Tedeski's file on the Guardsman; preparing a selection of questions they could use to verify that
they were indeed talking to Hawke; and that he was not speaking under duress。 Men from Hawke's platoon were even now being
questioned for additional information that could verify his identity。
Should the voice on the end of the vox genuinely prove to be Hawke; then they would have a first…rate source of intelligence
regarding the enemy's disposition; strength and movements; but Vauban wanted to be absolutely certain before he made any kind
of decision。 Magos Naicin was at this very moment researching the logic stacks within Arch Magos Amaethon's Machine Temple
for some way of detecting whether the words spoken over the vox…caster were genuine; though he hadn't sounded hopeful。 Naicin
had balked at Vauban's idea of employing an empathic server to gauge the truth; citing the unreliability of such a procedure
without the subject actually being present。
For now; at least; it looked as though they were going to have to do this on their own。
Vauban knew of Hawke; having seen his name appear on more disciplinary reviews than he cared to remember; but had never met
the man。 Drunkenness; disorderly conduct; brawling and theft were but a taster of the trouble Hawke had been involved in and
Vauban was reminded of the story of the Hero of Chiros; Jan van Yastobaal。 Lionised by the people of the Segmentum Pacificus
Graham McNeill ?Storm of Iron?
as a true hero of the people; Yastobaal had fought in the wars against the Apostate Cardinal Bucharis during the Plague of
Unbelief。 History told that he had been a noble; selfless man who had sacrificed all he had to free his people。
Vauban had been inspired by Yastobaal as a youth and had made a study of the man while a captain in the Jouran Planetary
Defence Force。 The deeper he researched and the more he had become acquainted with the real Yastobaal; the more he had found
him to be a reckless; unorthodox man; prone to taking unnecessary gambles with his mens' lives。 Everything he read of the man
spoke of a rampant ego and colossal vanity that bordered on psychosis; and yet there was still much to admire about him。
But read any Imperially approved historical text and the story of Yastobaal would be told as a noble battle of courage over
tyranny。
In years to come; what would the history books say of Guardsman Julius Hawke?
Graham McNeill ?Storm of Iron?
TOR CHRISTO
ONE
THE VAST; SOUTHERN gate of the citadel measured exactly forty…four metres high; thirty metres wide and was known as the
Destiny Gate。 Each layered half of the bronze gate was four metres thick and weighed hundreds of tonnes。 No one knew exactly
how they had been constructed; when they had been brought to Hydra Cordatus; or even how such massive portals could be
opened with such ease。
Both gates were covered with battle scenes etched into their surfaces; the detail obscured by the ravages of time and green trails of
oxidation; but they were impressive nonetheless。 Flanked by the threatening forms of Mori and Vincare bastions; they were set
within the sixty…metre high curtain wall of the citadel; surrounded by carven statuary。
Morning sunlight gleamed gold on the surface as the gates smoothly swung outwards; the battles immortalised on their faces
seeming to twist with life as the light caught them。 At last they were opened fully and massive shapes began to move through the
gateway with thunderous footsteps。
Like giants from legend; the Battle Titans of the Legio Ignatum marched to war; their armoured hides painted in vivid reds and
yellows; the power in their mighty steps shaking the ground。 Huge honour banners hung between their massive legs and enormous
kill banners fluttered from their weapon mounts; a litany of battle and victory stretching back to the days of the Great Crusade;
unmatched by any other Titan Legion。
Princeps Fierach commanded the Warlord Titan Imperator Bellum; marching at the head of eleven more god…machines。 Another
two Warlords flanked Fierach; the Honoris Causa and the Clavis Regni; their princeps similarly eager to take the fight to the
enemy。 Fierach brought the Imperator Bellum to a halt at the open rear of the Primus Ravelin; the soldiers inside cheering as his
thirty…metre high war machine raised its weapons high in salute。
Yet more Titans of the Legio Ignatum joined their Warlords。 Five Reaver Titans; smaller cousins to t

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