Home Fires – Chapter Two: Honour Your Wargear
Chapter Selection
Intro 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 Epilogue
“Truthfully? I hate it.”
Sandeep’s answer to a casual question produced an aura of absolute silence that awkwardly crushed the mood in the armoury.
“You… hate… the new armour?” Antonius asked.
“Not the armour.” Sandeep said, seemingly oblivious to the stares of the room. “The operating system.”
“You haven’t even put it on yet!” Brother Petros shouted as he fitted his undersuit.
“I’m going through the code now.” Sandeep said as he turned back to the cogitator console. “It was written by someone who doesn’t care that other people have to use it. I’d say it was horrific if it weren’t also genius. See? Look here…” he pointed at a kludge of green characters on the screen, completely indistinguishable from the other assorted kludges. “…this references a completely different algorithm to optimize blink-click recognition than the standard Mk. VIII armour, but here…” he took control of the screen and moved down “…is a re-used Mk. VIII algorithm. Almost like the code can’t decide which is best. And there’s no comments! One person kept all of this in his head!” He turned back.
Stares met him.
“…that doesn’t bother anyone else?” Sandeep offered.
“So long as it works well, Lord Cawl’s code can be as haphazard as he likes.” Antonius said.
Sandeep sighed. “Then how are we supposed to optimize it?”
“We can’t.” Antonius answered, eliciting shock from Sandeep. “…at least not right away. The Mk. VIII operating system is the latest in a long line. It has been analyzed, optimized, and scrutinized for ten thousand years. Lord Cawl has been working apart from the greater Imperium for that whole time. Who is to say which is the better way?”
“We do not have ten thousand years to understand this, my lord.” Sandeep countered.
“Indeed. We have one week to become the masters of this wargear. Get to it.” Antonius hammered.
***
“Begin.” Caliston said.
A flurry of servitors, serfs, and servo-skulls assaulted Caliston, clad only in the new Mk. X undersuit. Medium gray assemblages of bare ceramite appeared from slots in the floor and sides of the room. Cables were snapped into Caliston’s skull, spine, and limbs. The whine of tools filled the room as armour was fixed into place. A loud chunk rang out as the handle of a brand-new Bolt Rifle was slapped into Caliston’s newly armoured hand. Amid this tumult of activity, Caliston’s face was impassive. Finally, the grill of a rebreather slapped over his face seconds before the top of an unadorned helm closed over his tightly curled hair.
“Time!” Chaplain Hakan shouted.
“Two minutes, eight seconds.” Valleraus replied.
Light applause filled the room. Caliston stepped forward, clad in a full suit of the new Mk. X Tacticus Armour.
“Impressive.” Pontormo said. “…but what is the point? True, older marks of armour take a bit longer to be assembled, but rarely is an unclad Astartes dependent on these precious few seconds.”
“That is not the point.” Antonius answered. “Caliston, step back. Prepare for Phobos armament.”
Caliston stepped back into the center of the armoring station and in another flurry of motion, the assorted servants stripped Caliston of his armour and replaced each piece with a smaller, more streamlined version. Again, this was done in an impressively quick time. The final effect of the Phobos armour on Caliston’s frame struck the room as he stepped forward, making almost no sound doing so.
Caliston again stepped back and was lifted by servo arms as gigantic chunky slabs coated his body. He stepped forward one final time, clad in the imposing form of the new Gravis suit.
“That’s why the redundancy…” Sandeep whispered in awe.
“Indeed.” Antonius said, gesturing to a screen. “These are the three main modes of the new Mk. X armour. Additionally, there are modular changes that can be made. The Phobos plates can be stripped down for additional stealth. Phobos and Tacticus pieces can be interchanged and combined with a jump pack for the Omnis variant.” He turned away from the screen. “There are almost certainly options that will be explored more fully in the future. However, the new armour is designed to be the right armour for any application, and with ease of use in mind. Each of you will take command of a squad that has a specific combat role. However, I need you to be familiar with all of the designs. Your first assignment is to don the Tacticus variant and touch the door to the shuttle bay at the fore of His Hammer II. Then, return here and do the same with the Phobos and then the Gravis variants. Move.”
***
“You’re humming again, Steleos.” Antonius chided.
“My apologies, my Lord, but these new Bolt Rifles… they sing.” Steleos said with a serenity that Antonius briefly coveted.
“They sing?”
“Oh, yes, my Lord. Observe.” Steleos raised the new model of Bolt Rifle and pointed it down the range. “This is without the telescopic sight, just using ironsights directed on the target.” The bolter coughed a three-round burst. The bolt rounds flew true, striking the target just below its center. As part of marksman training, the rounds did not explode, leaving an irregular hole where the three rounds came close to converging.
“Impressive.” Antonius said.
“Now, if you’ll permit, Lord.” Steleos made safe the rifle and approached the armory’s arsenal wall. He chose an ordinary boltgun; the sort that were standard issue for Firstborn Marines. He loaded it and returned to Antonius’ side, striking the button that replaced the target with a fresh one. “Once again, ironsights only.” The old-fashioned Bolter gave a much more baritone cough, which Antonius found nostalgic. Not only did one of the rounds stray far enough from the other two that its hole did not connect to the others, all three were centimeters lower than the comparable rounds from the newer Bolt Rifle.
“Both of these weapons have had the proper rituals of calibration?” Antonius asked.
“Performed them myself.” Steleos replied. “We, all of us, are victims of Physics. Bolt Rounds in flight suffer a fall just as an ordinary bullet would. However, these Rifle rounds have slight modifications that decrease drop without adding mass or decreasing accuracy.”
“Perhaps Forge Worlds will modify their age-old practices and adopt the new style.” Antonius said with jest in his voice. Steleos raised an eyebrow.
“Probably not, Lord.”
Antonius nodded, but inside scolded himself. Was he this bad at comedy? Why did he keep trying? Perhaps he would let up on the attempts at jest. Soon.
***
“I wish they had used tracks instead of anti-grav, my Lord.” Agnais sighed. His head protruded from the firing hatch of the Impulsor, centimeters from the handle of the Heavy Stubber that had been bolted on.
“Agnais, could you come out of there? It feels ridiculous to speak to you like this.” Antonius shouted up at him.
“Oh! Of course, my Lord.” Agnais said. He ducked back inside the brand new grav-tank. Hisses and clanks were audible as Agnais disengaged himself from the onboard power and reinstalled his pack. The Impulsor powered down audibly and settled to the floor of the Honor’s Motorpool Cathedral. Agnais exited the Impulsor without fanfare, leaping the short distance and landing awkwardly before Antonius.
“Now, you were saying?” Antonius prompted.
“Yes, as you can see, all of the new tanks are anti-grav rather than the good old-fashioned tracks of the Rhino chassis, or even the venerable Land Raider.”
“Isn’t that better?” Antonius asked. “It can’t get stuck in muddy ground.”
“You pay for it though.” Agnais countered. “Lifting a heavy tank with anti-grav is costly in power. The fusion plant aboard is a thing of beauty, but most of it goes to the anti-grav and the thrusters. In terms of energy, treads are much more efficient. Wheels are better but more vulnerable to small arms fire.”
“So, why switch?”
“I can think of three reasons, Lord.” Agnais replied. “One, Lord Cawl didn’t want the Primaris forces to rely on Promethium fuel like firstborn Rhino chassis vehicles. This eliminates fuel as a limitation for operations. You don’t need supply lines, at least not for fuel. Plus, not burning Promethium means no exhaust to track, so the positions of the tanks aren’t given away at a distance.
“Two, the newer vehicles are upgunned in a way that is as amazing as it is borderline irresponsible. Grav-thrusters make having more weapons a bit easier, as you don’t have to have built in suspensors to correct for shaking while the tank is in motion. Given the variety of weapons that each of the variants can equip, this makes firing on the move easier.”
“And the third?”
“No disrespect to Lord Cawl, but he is definitely showing off. The tech on these vehicles is beyond most of anything seen in the greater Imperium. As I already said, these tanks practically bristle with weapons. The grav plates can even be overcharged to slow oncoming enemies. This is more tank than anyone needs.”
“Then why are you unhappy?”
“UNHAPPY?” Agnais shouted. “I’m ecstatic! These give me so much to work with!”
“But you expressed a preference for the old Rhino chassis.” Antonius countered.
“Of course, my Lord.” Agnais said. “Those tried-and-true machines are so easy to maintain, you can even effect temporary repairs in the middle of combat. These… are almost luxury vehicles by comparison. They can do so much, but maintaining them will require much more time, as well as a healthy supply of spare parts.”
“So, it’s a trade-off…”
“Such is life, my Lord.”