01x02 - Episode 2

[bunniefuu]

[intense music playing]

[thudding]

[thunder rumbling]

[Nynex] Hard contact.

Hard contact! Point two, closing.

Reverse stride!

Reverse stride!

[thudding]

Bring us around! Power to claw!

[metal groan]

I know that heraldry.

It's Clavius Dread, Legio Tempestus.

Nothing can be trusted.

It has achieved weapons
lock on us, my Princeps.

But it is not firing.

[beeping]

Hail her.

Open.

This is Gemnon,

of the most valorous Aurora Ferrum.

[wind whooshing]

This is Princeps Senioris Areum Keeso,

Clavius Dread of Tempestus.

Salutations
to my worthy kin of Gryphonicus.

Tempestus!

I did not think any loyal Stormlords

still survived.

You walk alone?

Since forever.

Last engine standing.

We hunt well, today.

By all means, join us.

I would welcome a great engine
of the Stormlords by my side.

[Keeso] I'm sure you would, Orla Gemnon.

But in this instance,

I suggest you abandon your as*ault

and join my attack instead.

Repeat and clarify!

Commit your engines in my support.

I have another target,

a better one.

We are tracking
nine traitor engines, Senioris.

What could take priority?

Horus Lupercal.

[tense music playing]

Say again.

The Warmaster.

I have just intercepted
enemy transmissions.

He has finally set foot on Terra.

He's…

he is here?

[Keeso] He finally walks the Throneworld.

We must assume his endgame
is now in progress.

Is this verified, Senioris?

Stand by.

Sharing data-capture.

[static crackle]

[intense music playing]

[static crackle]

The Archtraitor himself…

And less than two leagues
from our location, Gemnon.

We have a chance, sister.

An opportunity to end him

We cannot let it pass.

With respect, Senioris,

there is nothing about this data
that can be authenticated.

It could be enemy propaganda.

- It could be...
- It could be

- It could be...
- It could be many things, Gemnon.

No data can be trusted at this hour.

But if it is him…

I understand, Princeps Senioris.

Cogitate your line, as*ault proposal.

My engines will walk with you.

I am gratified.

Fall in on my left flank, half-stride.

The Omnissiah will bless us
for this, Gemnon.

Keeso out.

[dramatic music playing]

Steersman! Execute
manoeuvre! Half stride!

By your will, Princeps! Half stride.

[thunder rumbling]

[thudding]

Moderati!

Relay the supportive action
order to our other engines.

Your will, my Princeps.

I taste doubt in you, Nynex.

How I feel about it
is irrelevant, my Princeps.

My loyalty is total

to you and to the Omnissiah.

The same goes
for every member of this crew.

If this is your will,

we will obey without hesitation.

If you think we must pursue this target,

then we will.

I would not care to
explain to the Emperor

that we had this chance
and failed to take it, Moderati.

We trust in your instincts, my Princeps.

[metallic clanging]

[sombre music playing]

[thudding]

The battlegroup report

ready to receive your brief, my Princeps.

Very good. Display, please.

Princeps. Salutations.

Explain your decision, Gemnon.

The evidence supplied
by the Tempestus engine

is worthless.

A bold remark, Augustine,

from one who was so recently a moderati.

A callous remark, Princeps Lead,

from one who knows how bitterly
I earned this honor.

A fair riposte.

Forgive me, Princeps.

Emotions run high.

This data cannot be corroborated,

so it must be ignored

in favor of verified acquisitions.

It is enemy propaganda.

The foe hopes to break our resolve

by showing the archfiend
laying siege to the last gate.

Yet he was always coming here.

Is it foolish to think,
at this late hour,

he might have finally arrived?

We had a battlegroup
on our scopes, Gemnon.

Nine targets principle.

Enemy engines!

And you abandon that to follow this…

this folly?

He has to be somewhere.

Horus Lupercal would
never present himself

so openly.

The Warmaster would never turn
against the Imperium.

Isn't that what we believed?

You place your trust

in Keeso of the Stormlords, then?

As much as I place it anywhere
in these days

of blood and bitterness,

I do not believe this data.

But we have to act upon it.

We are committed, my commanders.

Are you with me?

You have my support, of course.

DeMartine out.

I walk with you, Princeps Lead,
whatever my reservations.

Augustine out.

Damn you, Orla.

If you are walking us into the grave…

We are in the grave already.

And whatever we walk into, Yuri,

I will be leading the way.

For Gryphonicus, then.

w*r is just.

Zaro out.

[thudding]

[intense music playing]

Hard stop! Hard stop!

Report!

Clavius Dread has affected
a hard stop, my Princeps!

Keeso! This is Gemnon! Report!

[Keeso] There's an engine-k*ller
out there.

[rain pattering]

My guess is a Shadowsword.

Four leagues out, perhaps five.

None of us have the shield-strength

to toy with this prey.

My kindred, we should move.

Negative.

It can't have a visual lock on us!

It will be listening for step-echo.

[rain pattering]

I need a moment
to manifest an auspex lock.

Auspex?

Down to ten, and failing again,
my Princeps.

I have solution. Firing!

[missiles firing]

[expl*si*n]

Target k*ll?

Auspex down.

No confirmation.

Senioris?

Confirmed tread-k*ll.

I had a clear lock on it.

[expl*si*n]

Astrum Venger is hit!

Registering significant damage!

It's hunting the weakest of the maniple.

She said she'd k*lled it.

Get me a lock, Moderati!

Auspex is inactive!

DeMartine?

DeMartine, respond!

Hull penetration.

Fire in Motivation chamber.

Suppression systems active.

Trying to stabilize.

I had a clean auspex lock
on its hull metallics.

[expl*si*n]

Senioris!

It's heat-tracking
DeMartine's burn-plume.

Nynex! Boost acoustics.

My Princeps?

It's deceiving auspex.

But that's a Volcano Cannon.

Boost acoustic and pinpoint
origin of the power-build!

At once, my Princeps!

Acoustic track.

Origin located.

k*ll it.

[rain pattering]

[missiles firing]

[auspex beeping]

[expl*si*n]

[rumbling]

[auspex beeping]

It's done.

Are we certain this time?

[Nynex] Acoustics confirm, tread k*ll.

DeMartine? Astrum Venger, respond.

Fire suppressed.

We have hull and internal damage.

Multiple casualties.

Motivation is in tatters.

Can you hold?

Our power is restricted.

Shield's gone.

We can walk and fight.

Stabilize your engine, Princeps.

Engines advance. Half stride.

Senioris Keeso.

We will have a conversation.

[Keeso] On open vox, Gemnon?

No.

Come alongside.

We will hard-link our manifolds.

[Keeso] Ah, a private conversation!

[rain pattering]

[thudding]

Mechadendrite hard-link established.

Link achieved.

Thank you, Moderati.

Senioris Keeso.

Orla.

You are angry.

I had just persuaded my engines to follow

despite their misgivings.

What happened?

I told you the auspex can't be trusted.

[Keeso] I had a solid lock.

But you improvised well.

Acoustic tracking was a shrewd gambit.

Senioris.

What is your level of auspex damage?

It was not a problem with my auspex.

It was a problem with the world
my auspex was trying to read.

The traitors are here, Orla.

Chaos is here.

The Warp is saturating Terra.

Nothing is true anymore.

- Nothing?
- Time is out of joint.

Can you not feel it?

Time and place.

The Warp has done this.

Moments before we met today,

mapping placed me near the Lion's Gate.

Likewise, an error.

[Keeso] Reality is twisting
and dislocating.

[Gemnon] If you're right

and nothing can be trusted,

how can I trust the evidence you present?

[Keeso] You can't, Orla.

Neither can I.

The footage?

It could be lies conjured by the Warp,

propaganda to break us

or an invitation to trap us.

The Warmaster
has been conspicuously absent

from the field of w*r

since the Siege began.

He has left the k*lling to his puppets.

But he is Horus Lupercal, Orla.

He is writing his own myth

and needs to claim victory himself.

So you think he is really here?

I'm saying the chances are high.

This is the end, Orla.

We are losing, and losing badly.

This is the moment he is waiting for.

But if it's a lie?

If it's a lie or a trap or a trick

or hallucination,

we die the death of fools.

The death awaits us anyway.

And I would rather die,

and die, and die a thousand times over

and die deceived too,

than ignore the possibility of victory.

We could end this w*r, Orla.

k*ll Lupercal?

k*ll Lupercal.