debacle。 Fierach's death made it that much easier for them； giving them a conveniently dead scapegoat。 Princeps Daekian；
commander of the Warlord Titan Honoris Causa had come before the senior officers of the Jouran Dragoons in full dress uniform；
offering his sorrow and a formal apology on behalf of the Legio Ignatum。
For the sake of unity； Vauban had accepted the apology； but the words tasted bitter。 Leonid had shown no such restraint； walking
up and striking Daekian。 Vauban had been ready for the worst kind of reaction； but Princeps Daekian had merely nodded and said；
'That is your right and privilege； Lieutenant Colonel Leonid； and I bear you no ill…will。'
Princeps Daekian had then drawn his curved sabre； stepping forward to offer it； hilt first； to Leonid。
'But know this： the Legio Ignatum stands ready to fight at your side and we will not fail you again。 I swear by my blade that it
shall be so。'
Vauban had been stunned。 For an officer of the Legio to offer his sword to another was a declaration that should he fail in his
sworn duty； he was willing to be killed by his own blade； and have the gods of battle mock him for all eternity。
Leonid had stared at the blade for several seconds。 In such circumstances it was customary for an officer and a gentleman to
Graham McNeill ？Storm of Iron？
refuse to accept the sword； indicating that the gesture was enough。 But Leonid had taken the sword and thrust it through his
officer's sash before returning to his seat。 Vauban had been disappointed； but not surprised。 Leonid's battalion had been badly
mauled in the battle and he was determined to extract a blood price for his men's deaths。
Leonid wore the sword still； and Vauban knew that when word of this incident had reached the ears of the common soldiers； his
popularity had soared within the ranks。
'I am proud of you； Mikhail；' said Vauban suddenly。 'You have a quality that I do not： you have the ability to empathise with the
men in your command on every level。 From the formality of the officers' mess to the gutter…talk of the barracks。'
'Thank you； sir；' beamed Leonid； pleased with his commander's sentiment。
'I am a competent and experienced leader；' continued Vauban； 'but I have never enjoyed the love of my soldiers。 I have always told
myself that it is not necessary for my men to love me； only that they obey。 Your men love and respect you； and； better； they trust
you not to lead them into harm's way without good reason。'
The two officers left the Sepulchre； pulling their uniform jackets tighter about themselves as they stepped into the whipping wind
that blew stiffly across the high peaks of the mountains。 A thousand steps led downhill between eroded statues of faded Imperial
heroes； and an honour guard of fifteen soldiers awaited to escort them back to the citadel。
Both officers stared in trepidation at the blasted plain before the citadel； feeling a gut…twisting sense of despair at the sight that met
their eyes。 Pillars of smoke curled skyward from countless forges and campfires as the enemy soldiers broke their fast this
morning。 The plain was a mass of men and machines； supply depots and digging parties。
In the days after the fall of Tor Christo； the main east/west parallel had been extended westwards to the base of the rocky
promontory； and two zigzagging saps were being driven towards the citadel。 The first was aimed at the salient angle of the Primus
Ravelin； while the second was on a course for Vincare bastion's left flank。
'We're not slowing them down enough；' said Vauban needlessly。
'No；' agreed Leonid； 'But we are slowing them。'
'Yes； but we need to stop them；' said Vauban； lifting his eyes to the blackened form of the Imperator Titan standing immobile at
the foot of Tor Christo； still swarming with men attempting to buttress it firmly and allow it to fire without collapsing。 Behind it；
huge gangs； thousands strong； had spent the last six days heaving and sweating to carry massive siege mortars and howitzers up
the rocky slopes to the forward edge of Tor Christo's promontory。 From there they would be able to lob their shells with impunity
within the walls of the Vincare bastion and place breaching batteries to shoot over the glacis； targeting the main curtain wall with
direct fire。
They were still some days away from completion； but when they were ready the carnage they would inflict on the garrison was
sure to be horrific。
'By the Emperor； Mikhail； it will go badly for us once those guns are brought to bear。'
Leonid followed Vauban's stare and said； 'Have you thought any more about my idea for Guardsman Hawke？'
Guardsman Hawke； still trapped in the mountains； was proving invaluable to the artillerymen of the citadel。 His daily reports of
where the main work parties were gathering had forced the invaders to dig extra approach trenches to ensure that they were able to
reach the front line alive； slowing the advance。 Vauban's admiration for this lowly soldier had grown daily； as he had reported the
enemy's movements； dispositions and apparent numbers in minute detail； allowing them to get a clearer understanding of the
enemy's capabilities and direct their artillery fire accordingly。 If they lived through this； Vauban would ensure that Hawke
received a commendation。
'I have； but such a plan would involve the Adeptus Mechanicus and I do not trust them any more。'
'Nor I； but we will need their help if it is to work。'
'That is for Arch Magos Amaethon to decide。'
'Sir； you know Amaethon is slipping and cannot be relied upon any more。 He is a fool； and worse； he's dangerous。 Just look at
what he did to the tunnel！'
'Be careful； Mikhail。 The Adeptus Mechanicus is an ancient and powerful body； and Amaethon is still senior to you and therefore
deserving of your respect。 Despite the truth of your words I will not have you utter them again。 Understood？'
'Aye； sir。 But we are supposed to be above this sort of thing！'
'We are above it； my friend； which is why you will say nothing more about it。 If we are to triumph here； we need to keep the
Adeptus Mechanicus on our side。 It will achieve nothing if we alienate them。'
Leonid said nothing more； and Vauban both understood and agreed with Leonid's reticence concerning the priests of the Adeptus
Mechanicus。 Blowing the tunnel between the Christo and the citadel was an act of unforgivable callousness； and were Amaethon
not already less than a man； he would have made him pay for his crime。
Magos Naicin had explained how he had pleaded with the arch magos not to destroy the tunnel； but the venerable Amaethon had
not listened to reason。 Vauban had also asked Naicin why； after the Heaven's Fall signal had been received； the Christo had not
been destroyed。
'I do not know； Castellan Vauban；' had been Naicin's answer。 'Perhaps Major Tedeski's courage failed him at the last and he could
not fulfil his duty。'
Vauban had come close to losing his temper then； remembering the horrific sight of a swaggering giant in Terminator armour
hurling Tedeski to his death from the battlements of the Mars bastion at the battle's end。
Fighting to keep the fury from his voice； he said； 'Be that as it may； but in future there will be no action taken by the Adeptus
Mechanicus without direct approval from myself or Lieutenant Colonel Leonid。 Is that clear？'
'As crystal； Castellan。 And let me say； that I agree with you wholeheartedly。 I cannot bring myself to condone the death of the men
you lost at Tor Christo； but the magos is old and does not have long left in this world。 He will soon be with the Omnissiah； and；
may the holy spirit of the Machine forgive me for saying so； perhaps it might be better for us all were he to be taken sooner rather
than later。'
Graham McNeill ？Storm of Iron？
Vauban had not replied to Naicin's sentiment； but had immediately sensed the younger magos's desire to take over from
Amaethon。
And； while he did not approve of such machinations； he gloomily realised that Naicin might well be correct。
GUARDSMAN HAWKE RAN a hand through his tousled hair and settled into a more comfortable position on the rocks； using his
jacket as a rest for his elbows and training the magnoculars on the enemy camp below。
'Right； let's see what's going on now；' he muttered。
The dusky plain below was a patchwork of activity； with whole swathes of ground given over to weapon and tool manufacture；
with thousands upon thousands of men milling about in regular patterns。 It had taken him a few days to find this perch from which
to observe the camp。 It was far from comfortable； but it was probably as good as it got in these mountains。 It was sheltered from
the worst of the winds and there was a rocky overhang that allowed him to snatch some sleep when the noise from below wasn't
too bad。 He yawned； the mere thought of sleep making his body crave it all the more。 Night was drawing in anyway and he
wouldn't be able to see much more at the rate the daylight was fading。
He'd eaten and drunk only sparingly and his food and water supplies were still holding out； but he had long since ran out of detox
pills。 However； worries that he would fall prey to the toxic atmosphere of Hydra Cordatus appeared to be unfounded。 His health；
aside from a few braises and scrapes； was better than it had been since he'd ended up on this useless planet。
After the initial pain and stiffness had left his underused muscles； he had felt clearer and fitter than ever。 The constant headaches
had vanished like morning mist and the ashen taste that always caught in the back of his mouth had also disappeared。 His skin was
taking on a healthy glow； his natural paleness replaced by the beginnings of a tan。
Whatever the cause of his sudden good health； Hawke was grateful for it。 Perhaps it was the feeling that he was now proving his
worth to the regiment； that he was a good soldier and could hack it with the best of them。 As he panned the magnoculars across
the enemy camp； counting the number of work parties that made their way to the approach trenches； Hawke was forced to admit
that； all things being equal； he was having the time of his life。
TWO
THE BONE…BLADED knife scraped a clean furrow through the ingrained blood on the heavy vambrace； the dried crust gathering on
the curved rear of the blade。 Larana Utorian dipped the blade in the bucket of warm water beside her and returned to her task。
Once again； Kroeger had returned to the dug…out with dried blood caked across his armour and without a word to her； had
indicated that she should remove his armour and clean it for him。
Each piece was heavy； almost too heavy； and were it not for the wheezing mechanical arm Kroeger's butcher…surgeons had grafted
to her shoulder she would have been unable to lift his armour clear。 The black…steel metalwork of the mechanical arm was
nauseating to look at and the feel of its corrupt bio…mechanical components worming their way through her body made her want to
rip it from her shoulder。 But the writhing black tendrils of synth…nerve had forged an unbreakable bond with her own flesh and she
could no more remove it than she could stop her heart from beating。
A heavy steel frame carried the individual components of Kroeger's armour； each moulded breastplate； cuissart； greave； vambrace
and gorge