Staring at the Power Sword hovering beside his shoulder, its disruptive field flickering between bright and dim, ready to shear his head from his neck at any moment, even Thien could not suppress a spike of tension.
However, Axion clearly had no intent to kill him. For the construct, this duel was barely more than a sport. If it truly wished to kill them, it needed only to enter its hyper-acceleration mode once to rip every single one of these so-called demigods to shreds before they could even react.
Axion casually tossed the sword back towards its original owner.
The Black Templar warrior who saw the blade flying back flinched, instinctively trying to dodge, but his reflexive movement exposed his scabbard. The sword flew true with a trajectory that was both visible and impossible to evade, embedding itself squarely into the sheath. The residual force of the throw even sent the Astartes staggering.
The surrounding Astartes, who had been poised to rush to Thien's defense, halted in unison upon seeing the Power Sword so precisely sheathed.
There was only one ancient construct, and they were twelve. Their Sergeant-Major had dueled it and been decisively defeated in a straight fight.
The Black Templars Chapter held fast to its own tenets. As one of the many scions of the Primarch Rogal Dorn, the Black Templars valued faith and honour above all. Their aggressive preference for close combat embodied a form of knightly martial tradition, leading them to disregard battlefield conditions and seek suitable enemies with which to initiate a formal duel.
This unusual characteristic meant the Black Templars were full of duelists. Not only would the Emperor's Champion seek out duels on the battlefield, but the Company Captains, Sergeants, and even common Astartes would issue challenges when they deemed an enemy or a situation appropriate. In other Chapters, almost no one, save perhaps the Company Champion, would obsess over dueling the enemy, and even they were not bound to do so.
Thien, having lost the duel, regarded the towering form of Axion, a storm brewing beneath his armour.
This Sapient Machine did not deliver the killing blow?
It seems entirely unlike the data I have encountered.
Do these intelligent ancient constructs also refrain from slaughter?
Perhaps this is not an Abominable Intelligence, but what is it, then?
Axion looked at the staring Thien. Even through the Astartes' helmet, Axion's scanners could penetrate the unreinforced faceplate and discern the war-face's expression.
"Enough. Whatever pointless thoughts occupy your mind, they are irrelevant to me. I require historical data, I require records. Since you all maintain that Earth might hold the relevant information, then I must travel to Earth. This city may not possess navigation equipment, but since you traveled here from orbit, you must possess navigational capabilities."
"I require assistance to travel to Earth. Since you lost the duel, I believe the victor is entitled to state its demand."
Axion reached out and tapped Thien's shoulder plate.
Thien, still lost in thought, was snapped back by Axion's movement and asked in confusion, "What is this 'Earth'?"
Vashur tentatively poked his head out from the side, responding to Thien's question in his vocally synthesized tone.
"Earth is Terra."
Thien jolted. "You wish to go to Terra?"
"Did you not tell me that the place which retains the most complete historical records is the Imperial Archives on Earth?" Axion regarded the Astartes seriously.
"What is this? Is Magos Vashur or this Battle-Brother attempting to deceive me?"
Although a machine, Axion's head unit was crafted with exquisite precision; a complex array of mechanical structures allowed it to produce a variety of expressions. Though still distinct from a living being, its general emotional cues were discernible. Coupled with its now pale-red optical sensors, it exerted an unsettling pressure.
Thien tilted his helmeted head toward Magos Vashur and then toward his Battle-Brother, before shaking his head.
"The Magos and my Battle-Brother would not spread falsehoods, but we cannot permit an uncontrolled ancient Sapient Machine to travel to Terra. Though you have caused no damage to the Imperium yet, your provenance remains unverified."
"Furthermore, the journey to Terra is extraordinarily difficult."
Axion grew irritated. "I have stated my identity. As the birthplace of the Creators, I do not believe I lack the qualification to travel there. As for this so-called 'difficulty,' what exactly does that entail?!"
"Tzzzt. Static..."
"Hailing, Thien... the orbit... is under... heavy... attack... by Traitor... forces."
"I... am dispatching... a boarding... party..."
Thien reached up and pressed the activation rune on the side of his helmet to receive the garbled transmission.
"What is happening? Respond!"
The sudden interruption of the comm-feed broke off the conversation between Thien and Axion.
The intense psychic interference made the communication exceptionally fractured. Such sudden communications interference was not unheard of, but the only possible cause for this abrupt manifestation was the presence of an enemy from the Warp.
Though the transmission was incomplete, a vital core of information was clear: the enemy had launched a Boarding Action against the vessels in orbit!
Boarding an Imperial Battleship?!
Sensing the extreme danger of the situation, Thien had no time to deal with the ancient construct, who seemed temporarily unthreatening.
"Brothers, return immediately to the Thunderhawk Gunship. We must return to the Battleship in orbit. You heard the transmission; the enemy has likely launched a Boarding Action. Prepare yourselves."
As the Sergeant, Thien gave the command, and the others offered no dissent. Lowering the priority of the ancient machine was a trivial matter, especially since it appeared harmless, and a combat-incapable Magos remained on-site.
Although Axion was not on their comm-net, its acoustic acquisition systems had completely recorded the contents of Thien's helmet transmission due to their proximity. Immediately, Axion established a remote link with the War Ravens hovering overhead, rerouting the fire-control systems of the Fragmentation Cannon turret.
Some damned thing has interrupted my conversation. This must be punished. Perhaps if I offer a small assistance, they will satisfy my demands for knowledge.
In the void of space, the massive Imperial Battleship was firing wildly. Not far away, four enemy warships bore prominent spiked adornments. Though they lacked particularly distinct designs and their hulls resembled those of Imperial vessels, their decorative style had become grotesquely aberrant.
The Captain, seeing the conspicuous markings on the four enemy ships, yelled in furious resentment.
"The Iron Warriors Traitor Legion!"
"Those damned turncoats!"
The enemy formation included one Battleship, two Cruisers, and a Frigate. Clearly, the Iron Warriors' objective was unambiguous.
The location was dangerously close to the Great Rift, making access simple for the Traitor Legions. They could materialize from the Warp at any point, striking or raiding any target they deemed suitable.
At this moment, a lone Imperial Battleship anchored in the orbit of a planet was an excellent target for capture.
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