Disclaimer: All Warhammer 40,000 and Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha concepts belong to their respective owners. No challenge is intended.
7: Shafts
Atlas was waiting for him, ducked behind a balcony shelter. "Any trouble?"
"There's something moving in the central shaft," whispered Eifast from low beside the duo. "It came out of a fifth floor window."
"Stay down." Lance put one pistol over the railing and let the Intelligence pipe him a feed.
There were two drones, metre-wide wings flying slow circles up the shaft. Every so often one directed a green flash into the structure of the building.
"Scout fliers. We're not the only ones looking for intel. I'd better take them out, but it'll blow our position. Get ready to move."
"What's the objective?"
"They'll know we're up here. Hopefully that will draw them up and away from those shield crystals. If we go down a lift shaft to level 1, we can circle around and take out that barrier before they know where we are."
"Sounds good to me." Atlas went to a kneeling crouch. Cyan glyphs flickered around his fist.
Lance went up, guns over the edge. The guns barked twice. In the shaft, the drones spun away in a cloud of fragments. One, bereft of half a wing, whipped end over end and exploded against a window. The other folded inward, hung at the top of an arc, and tumbled toward the park disintegrating as it went.
The answer was swift. A hail of fire lashed out from the park, level six, level seven. Buzzing bolts of green plasma curved screaming towards their vantage. The drones had been bait, of course.
"Cover me," barked Lance. Atlas put his hand out and a bubble of blue light sprang into being around them. The homing bolts careened off its surface with the sound of burning butter. A ricochet punched a hole the size of a fist in the wall nearby.
"Huh. Thought they'd pack more punch."
"That's an anti-personnel weapon. If we weren't shielded..."
"Yeah, well, it's easy enough to deflect. What's the hold-up?"
Lance finished his protocol. A glowing amber ball hung on the balcony. "Decoy." He pointed both guns at the ball and held down the trigger. It absorbed his fire and grew brighter. "Alright, they'll break fire in a moment. Get ready to go."
Sure enough, the green barrage stopped after a moment. Lance tapped the ball, which shivered and darted to the edge. It put two shots into the park near the shooter's position. That would keep them busy, until the decoy ran out of energy and collapsed back into the Warp.
"Go, go, go." The duo went for the nearest elevator, Lance sprinting with his guns covering the side approaches, Atlas pushing himself to ever greater speeds in his antigravity shell. The big man didn't so much turn corners as bounce through them, planting his feet on walls and roof to preserve momentum.
"My gardens – my windows!" stammered the building as more shots rang out from the shaft.
"Are they more important than a child's freedom?" growled Atlas.
"Ah, no. No! What is wrong with me? Why would I even think that?"
"There's nothing wrong with you, Eifast. You're under a lot of stress. Lance and me, we're combat veterans, we know how to stay cool under fire. Believe me, you're doing fine.
"OK, buddy, is the line secure?" He raised his arms to check the glowing spell-cords projecting around his waist from Lance's weapons.
"Diagnostic confirms. Vitus, Eifast, we're going into the lower levels. If we're lucky we can flank them and take out the barrier generator. Eifast, we won't be able to talk until we get back to the higher levels, that's enemy territory. Keep recording everything you can. Maybe we'll find a clue to whatever's going on here."
"Godspeed," said Vitus. "Loyalty is on final braking orbit. We'll be at your position in ten minutes, and even a full isolation barrier can be pierced safely with enough psi force. We've mobilised all regional military forces except the Spaceport Guard, and should have a full military perimeter up in thirty minutes just in case. This is the biggest fight the planet's seen in decades, so the Grelm troops are pretty excited to show their mettle. Stay in touch."
"Yes sir," said Atlas, and pulled open the safety doors of the elevator shaft. "Biggest fight in decades, and two people to fight it. Sure you wouldn't rather rappel?"
"I trust you," said Lance.
Atlas jumped into the shaft towing his partner behind him.
Gravity elevators consisted of virtual bubbles of isolated space. The shaft itself was a simple glass tube, empty from foundation to roof. From the eighteenth floor it was nearly a hundred meters to the bottom of the shaft somewhere in the basement levels. Atlas went in at an angle, deflected off the shaft wall, and caromed downward in a blaze of blue. Lance hung above him for a moment, then as friction bled through the antigravity bubble, got a knee on the man's shoulders and braced himself.
Atlas flared the field, span around the shaft, and they came to a rest hanging by his fingers from the lintel of a door on the first floor.
"Although it occurred to me just now, using the stairs would be nearly as fast and probably considerably safer." Lance pushed himself up Atlas' body and levered the doors open. "All clear. Let's go." He flashed a map into his companion's mind with a route highlighted through the lobbies and access corridors of the building's interior layout. They could still hear gunfire from the shaft, but as they moved out there was a tremendous bang, and everything went quiet.
"That sounded heavy," said Atlas with foreboding.
They went cautiously this time. The big man dropped his acceleration bubble and moved on foot, so he could more easily reverse direction if he walked into a firezone. They advanced leapfrog, one covering the other as they dashed from corner to corner. A residential hallway thick with black carpet. A child's tri-steed lay on its side abandoned, legs frozen in the air in mid-pace. A utility space, uncomfortable cover behind whirring ventilation units and metal stairways. A lobby lined with marble statues depicting a scene from the Eldar myth-history, another uncomfortable tale which had altogether fewer heroes at the end than it did at the beginning.
"Hold it," sent Lance after a moment. "What's this?"
Atlas went down on one knee. "Water. It's dripping from up there. More structural damage?"
Lance looked at the floor. "No. It's not pooling, it's draining off towards the West. What the..."
Atlas frowned. "Put out a line. About an arm's length. Just humour me, OK?"
"Sure. Now what?"
"Hold that against the door." He squinted at the spell-cord. "See, it's not hanging parallel. There's nothing wrong with the building. It's gravity that's causing the problem. Vitus said there'd be a full deployment to our position... so we've stopped moving, right?"
"I'd have to ask the building when we're out of the quiet zone, but I think so, yes."
"But the planet's still revolving. Oh, this is stupid, why would you pin our position to the surface but our orientation to the sun? Never mind, it must be a disorientation weapon. OK, I think the Tertiaries did this on purpose. As the day goes on the building will hold its angle. We're slowly tipping sideways."
"So the water's pouring out of all those ponds and water features. And in twelve hours the whole building will be upside down. Gods, what'll that do to the people in the shelters?"
"Shelters are engineered for worse. I'm more worried about the gardens. We'll probably see full landslides in two to three hours unless we can disable those barrier crystals."
"Right. I'm revising our approach to avoid likely flood avenues, but otherwise, proceed as planned."
The approach took them along corridors with sodden carpets. Open doors gaped with the threat of ambush; water was already beginning to pool in the corners of suites. Lance noted that Atlas went over the water, his heavy feet leaving barely a ripple.
The entry wound was in the South of the building, past the flooding areas. The duo hunkered down on the edge of a yawning abyss. The blue desert sky was framed by the shattered guts of the building, walls and floor smashed inward. Dust and shards of glass covered the carpet. As the building tilted, fragments spilled from upper floors, cascading out of the wound. Somewhere beneath the building the fragments were collecting at the bottom of the shield bubble. A great distance below, a sea of settling white dust covered the desert. A pair of black and violet transport ships settled into the cloud, part of the militia deployment.
"Crystals should be that way," sent Lance telepathically. Atlas nodded. They crept towards the lobby they'd seen through Eifast's surveillance.
"Hold." Lance pointed to a ceiling decoration, a crystal chandelier hanging askance. "This is about where I'd set up a security perimeter. We know they've got drones, they're probably running spy cams too. That chandelier's got good line of sight down the corridor towards their crystals."
"Why not set it up facing outward?"
"I'd do that outdoors, but line of sight is limited in a corridor. If all you're going to see is the one room, might as well plant the bug where it won't be found as easily. We'd see the lens too easily if it were facing outward, and although they'd know we were coming, we'd pop it quick enough they wouldn't get a good read on our numbers."
"Sounds fair. Are we going to knock it out?"
"No, they'd know we were coming. Are you up for a Breakout?"
"Oh yeah. How long can you hold the cloak?"
"Give me sixty seconds, then show yourself to the cam and start acting big and dumb. Think you can do that?"
"Gee, I dunno, boss."
"Good. If it gets too hot in front, don't wait up. Go to 87 and hold tight until I contact you."
Lance's outline flickered and went out.
Atlas watched an internal clock count down from 60. There was no sound from the corridor. "Hope you're well out of sight, buddy," he thought to himself, and stomped forward, pounding one steely fist into his palm.
He didn't look over his shoulder. If there was a cam, it was getting a good look at him. His shoulders itched. Pretending to be cautious, he poked his head around a corner. This didn't look like a killzone: shop facades, too much cover for attackers. It would be the next corridor.
He took a deep breath and summoned the antigravity bubble.
Kicked off around the corner. Low and fast, he slid halfway up the wall as a hail of green hornets shrieked past. Then he was accelerating forward, past smooth walls toward an incongruous barricade of carved marble the marines must have dragged out from their base camp. The shooter snarled something inaudible as the shots bounced screaming from his shields and ducked behind cover.
Atlas had been shot at before, and an instinct born of experience kicked in. As the shooter rose up, weapon reconfigured from multiple emitters to a single long lance, he was falling forward.
The shot blew through his outer shields and heat washed across his back. His left hand hit the floor. Green fire bit into the floor up the corridor – the shooter had half-compensated for his evasion – and kept going. There was a terrible roar as the carpet volatilised, and a distant fire-wreathed glimpse of daylight at the end of a perfectly straight tunnel the width of his shoulders.
He saw the impact site upside-down, turning the momentum of his fall into a roll and hand-spring. The ceiling was high, but he almost grazed it as he turned in mid-air.
The shooter was One-Eye. He was bringing up that dreadful lance again, and away from solid surfaces, Atlas couldn't change his vector.
Yellow fire smashed into the Tertius from behind. He staggered just enough to put his aim off again. The green blast whipped between Atlas' face and his right hand.
A wave of destruction shot up and emerged from Eifast's eighth storey.
Atlas came down.
The machines at his wrist roared. A blue corona burst back around his fist. The blow took One-Eye in the temple. He spun sideways, face invisible behind a shower of sparks from his shield-armour, and crashed head first into the wall. The impact of his three-meter frame was substantial.
Atlas regained his feet within arm's reach of the reeling marine. He kicked the Tertius behind the knee, using the impact to knock himself backwards, and rebounded off the opposite wall. As he came in, another yellow shot blasted against the turning marine's shoulder. That many-eyed green weapon was reconfiguring again, the eyes turning sideways like some kind of heavy sword. In the hands of such a monster, such a weapon could probably cut through a tank in a single blow..
He brought his hands together and down.
One-Eye's helm shield had blown out in the first impact. The second one drove him to his knees. Atlas crouched, went forward in a blue flash. His fist cracked into an uppercut full in the marine's face. Energy flared and flashed from the impact. He felt crystal and bone jump and splinter. The Tertius was thrown to his full height – Atlas in his recovering guard was at navel level – and crashed back into the wall, spitting sparks and gravel as the shields bit at fractured masonry.
The sword slumped nervelessly, remaining in his grasp only by means of the bullpup systems bound to his wrist.
Atlas wasn't taking any chances. He could bury his fist in solid stone up to the elbow; the ancient marine had taken three blows and was still on his feet. He pinned One-Eye's weapon against the wall with his left hand, channelling protective wards as he did so in case the green blade began to burn, and rained jab after jab into the wrist and forearm. The shields blew out and yellow sparks cascaded from his barrier jacket. Bone splintered before the bullpup casing gave way and the green eyes along the blade flickered and died.
One-Eye spat blood and jerked his other hand up drunkenly. Then he froze.
Lance held a pistol under his intact ear.
"You're too late," rumbled the Tertius, and made a grab for the gun hand. Lance threw himself forward and caught the massive arm with his body; he was flung against the wall. Atlas reached up and grabbed the marine's gorget, a thin ring of metal about his throat, and with that leverage delivered a hammer fist to his clavicle between neck and shoulder armour. The massive chest grunted, so he did it again. This time he blew through the shield and felt bone snap through the steel of his gauntlet.
One more. Bone ground against ribs. Even the mighty muscles of an astartes needed a skeleton to pull against, and while a collarbone strike wasn't going to kill anyone, it sure as the stars was going to stop them using that arm for anything serious.
Lance pulled away from the drooping limb. Just to make sure, he put three shots into the giant's crystal-scarred face.
"Stun rounds had better hold the bastard," he gasped. "Felt that through my robes."
"All Tertiaries were enhanced psykers," grunted Atlas, lowering the hulk to the ground. "Can't think of anything better than a good nerve-jangling to make him safe – lethal rounds would leave his spinal column intact. Are we clear?"
"Yes, looks like they just had one rear guard. Kamath must be almost as short on people as we are. Don't bother securing him – quick, the barrier crystals!"
The duo burst into the lobby. The shield generators hovered in midair. They were covered by a pair of green eyes secured high in the corners; Lance shot them.
"Maxim to Vitus. We're got eyes on the crystals. Taking them out now."
Atlas put his hand on the first ancient seal. It tingled with arcane sensations.
He crushed it. Glowing powder and shards cascaded to the floor. The other followed suit.
"Crystals destroyed. Repeat, shield crystals are destroyed. Come on in."
There was a short pause.
"Negative. Swift Emancipation reports barrier integrity unchanged."
The squadmates looked at each other, then at the pile of fading crystal fragments.
"Oh, that clever monster," said Lance.
Mach Caliber spoke up from Atlas' side. "Analysis complete. These crystals are an ancient form of lighting device, incapable of channelling more psi energy than a lamp. We have been had."
Atlas' eyes went to the elevator shafts. They vanished upwards. And the unconscious marine back in the hallway wore a jetpack.
In the distance, a sharp series of explosions echoed across the central shaft. The howl of an emergency siren started up and stopped just as abruptly.
"Vivo," they said in shared horror.