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 their leader's war machine；
took up rear positions and four Warhound Scout Titans loped alongside the Battle Titans。 The Warhounds split into pairs； each
taking position on the flanks of the larger machines。 The Titans waited in the shadow of the counterguard wall as the armoured
units of the Jouran Dragoons rumbled from the citadel and swarmed around the massive feet of the Battle Titans。
From his elevated position in the head of the Imperator Bellum； Princeps Fierach watched the mustering of the tanks and infantry
carriers with mixed emotions。 He was glad of their support； but knew that； with enemy Titans in the field； they could be unreliable
allies。 Fierach knew how easy it could be to break the courage of an enemy with the unstoppable power of a Titan。 Like many
princeps who had commanded a Titan for a considerable time； Fierach had a scornful disregard for those not able to take to the
field of battle as he did。 To have such destructive power at his fingertips bred arrogance and a withering contempt for the
insignificant weapons and machines employed by those armed forces without the heritage of the Titan Legions。
Fierach sat within the head of the Imperator Bellum； wired into its every system via the ancient technologies of a mind impulse
unit。 Only by becoming part of the god…machine's consciousness was it possible to take command of these awesome machines； to
feel each motion of its limbs and surge of power along its fibre bundle muscles as though they were his own。
To have such power to command was an intoxicating sensation and； when not joined with the god…machine； Fierach felt weak；
shackled to the limitations of his mortal body。
Fierach shifted in his seat and meshed his senses with those of the Titan； allowing the barrage of information the sensorium of the
Imperator Bellum was receiving to wash over him。 He closed his eyes； feeling the sudden vertigo as his mind's eye shifted into a
top…down view； depicting the battlefield as a series of bright contours and pulsing blips。 Icons representing his own forces and
those of the Jourans continued to mass in the ditch before the counterscarp that protected the base of the walls and bastions。
Concealed tunnels sloped upwards through the ground； emerging on the plains before the citadel； allowing the armoured units of
the Guard to rapidly deploy and support the Titans。 Five hundred vehicles； a mix of battle tanks and armoured fighting vehicles；
formed up in lines along the length of the ditch； smoke belching in blue clouds from their throbbing exhausts。
Fierach was unhappy with this attack and had voiced his concerns to Castellan Vauban in the strongest terms； but he was a senior
princeps of the Legio Ignatum and pledges of servitude had been sworn many millennia ago between the Legio and the
commanders of this citadel； and Fierach would not be known as an oath breaker。
It reeked of desperation to Fierach to gamble so much on the word of a poor soldier； but if this Hawke was correct； then they had
an opportunity to take the fight to the enemy before they were able to properly deploy their Battle Titans。 Despite his reservations；
Fierach was elated at the prospect of taking his warriors into battle。 While their duty to protect this citadel was sacrosanct； it was
not the most satisfying of postings for a warrior who had forged his reputation on countless battlefields throughout the galaxy。 The
honour and kill banners hanging from the Imperator Bellum were the latest in a long line。 Many that had previously been carried
into battle were now hanging in the Chapel of Victory on the Legion's homeworld of Mars； their roll of honour scarcely able to
contain the sheer number of battles won and enemies slain。
Fierach removed his senses from the tactical plot； grunting in satisfaction as Moderati Yousen reported； 'Lieutenant Colonel
Leonid reports that Force Anvil is in position and ready to move out on your order。'
Fierach acknowledged the information with a raised finger； impressed at the efficiency of Leonid。 He had always liked Vauban's
second…in…command more than the castellan himself； feeling that Leonid was far more a natural warrior than Vauban。
'Very good； Moderati。 Open a channel to all Titans。'
Yousen's finger danced across the panel before him。 He nodded towards his princeps。
Graham McNeill ？Storm of Iron？
'All princeps； this is Fierach。 You all know what to do； so carry out your orders。 I wish you joy of the day and good hunting。 May
the Emperor guide your aim。'
He closed the channel without waiting for a response and trained his eyes on the red expanse of plain that stretched before his
Titan； noting the distant plumes of smoke that marked the locations of the enemy camp。
Fierach whispered a mantra of salute to the spirit of the Imperator Bellum and said； 'Engineer Ulandro； give me striding speed。 We
go to battle。'
PRINCEPS CARLSEN RELISHED the sense of speed that coursed through his body as his Warhound Titan； the Defensor Fidei；
sprinted ahead of the Legio's Battle Titans。 Less than half the size of a Reaver Titan； the Warhound was an agile Sc