Chapter X

Haunted

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Ape Encampment. Three days after arrival.

Incandiasa was now quite officially annoyed.

Vance's idea was a dangerous one, and involved causing mayhem over a wide front, a task she was best suited to due to the fact she could fly.
The other half of his plan involved a frontal assault on the camp at the height of the confusion, a part that he and Spyro would carry out, while she continued fire-bombing stuff from on high until they got in trouble, in which case she was to take down whoever had them pinned.
With another irritated growl, she locked her wings at the zenith of her flight, then dove straight down, levelling off above the mess tent, then setting the canvas afire, before swooping up and away again, already resolving on doing the same to the armoury next.
Already the alarm was raised, and humans and apes alike were scrambling about in confusion, looking around for an enemy already beyond reach.
Maybe this crazy idea would work after all.

'That's our cue.' Said Vance, levelling his lasgun at a pair of sentries in a watch-tower.
He fired two bursts, neatly catching both sentinels in the second one, before eliminating the second set at ground level with clean, single headshots.

'Now come on,' said Vance already running full pelt through the undergrowth, not bothering to check if Spyro was following.
A pair of the mysterious humans had just appeared where the sentinels that Vance had shot were lying.

Firing from the hip, Vance peppered them with lasrounds, scything them down with lucky shots to the legs, heads, and what parts of the torso weren't protected by their shields, which stopped the lasrounds cold.
Before heading into the encampment proper, Vance sheathed his bayonet, shouldered the lasgun, scooped up the less las-damaged of the two cultist's shields then drew his laspistol in his left hand, his newly-acquired shield already settled on his left arm.
In his right he had the power-sword, although it now filled him with a sense of foreboding just to draw the weapon.
Commissar Rigal Chekhov had been very particular about his gear.

You want to wield my sword? Said a ghostly voice in Vance's head which he ignored. You'd best prove that you're worthy of it traitor-scum.
Paying no heed to his over-active imagination, Vance advanced into the encampment, alert for enemies.
A shiver down his right shoulder made him spin around and lash out with the sword, intercepting the blade of another of the cultists.
Vance shield-bashed the blade aside, then shot the cultist in the chest, before stabbing the power-sword into the cultist's chest.

Seven high! Said the ghostly voice, and acting as if on it's own accord, Vance spun about, leading with the power-sword, batting aside an ape's cleaver.
XENOS SCUM! Roared the ghost-voice, before definitely of it's own accord this time, the sword crackled to life, whipped in a circle over Vance's head, and decapitated the ape.
'What…the….frak…' breathed Vance, utterly terrified by this stage; it wasn't the foes he was facing, it was the voice of Commissar Chekhov in his head, and the stolen power-sword taking on a life of it's own.
Now I reclaim my sword and go to the Emperor's side. Said Rigal's voice again, and the crackling power-sword whipped at Vance, who with a truly terrified yell, whipped around out of the sword's path, and released it, sending it spinning away down a path between tents to fetch up in a chieftain's back.

'Holy shit…' breathed Vance, casting off the now-useless shield and mag-locking his bayonet again.
'What was that about?' Spyro had caught up.
Vance shot an ape that tried to crash tackle the dragon from behind.
'I think my sword might just be haunted.' Vance said grimly.
Your sword isn't haunted private, your arse is haunted until I see you dead; you stole my sword, I've already got my hat back, now I'm getting my sword back and your heretic arse along with it. Said the voice of Commissar Chekhov.
Vance shook his head, a mob of apes had rounded a bend, along with several cultists.
'Ave imperator!' Shouted Vance, already running full pelt at the mob, lasgun barking and cutting a path into the heart of the mob.
The cultists simply put their shields in a position to block Vance's shots, but the apes were dropping, either to dodge the shots, or dropping dead.

When Vance made contact, he made contact with one of the mystery humans, pushing aside his shield with his bayonet, then thrusting the blade home, before withdrawing it, kneeing the cultist over, clubbing a second cultist with the stock of his rifle, blocking, turning aside and stabbing again.
Then a pair of apes and another cultist ganged up on Vance, leaving their fellows to flank him.
'Frak it,' Vance said, burying the bayonet in the cultist's gut, before kicking one of the apes in the groin.

Tapping his power, Vance blasted the apes and cultists closest to him with fire, before using the ravening infernos issuing from his hands to work his way into the heart of the mob, dimly aware of Spyro beating a pair of cultists down with his horns and tail.
'Spyro, get clear!' Shouted Vance, before creating another column of fire around himself.

Dimly, he saw Spyro slam the two cultists one last time, then scramble away, making his way clear of the camp.
Vance clenched his fists, feeling the indigo fire breaking away.
He held the fire as long as he could, before letting it loose.
The blast was more powerful this time, incinerating the tents, equipment, cultists, apes, provisions and paraphernalia within twenty metres of Vance, and causing him to sag with exhaustion.
Dimly, he saw that his lasgun, although blackened, was still in one piece, and the bayonet was likewise fine, if soot blackened.

He collapsed onto his back in exhaustion, only for a shadow to loom over him.
'Private Vance Jenkins, by the power granted me by the Commissariat in the name of the Emperor of Mankind, I find you wanting in the line of duty, and hereby-' Vance was fully awake now, and rolled away as Rigal's ghost finished it's speech and fired a ghostly bolt from it's weapon at the spot where his head had been a second ago.
'You're a figment of my imagination made real by my recently awakened psyker powers, and as such I'm telling you to frak off.' Ordered Vance, sounding braver than he felt, already with warp-fire around his hands again.

Commissars were men to be feared, but Rigal had taken an almost immediate dislike to Vance, and Vance for his part had lived in near mortal terror of the eye-patched commissar.
Something about the regulation-buzz cut black hair, forbidding commissar uniform and the seventy-five calibre bolt pistol he wielded like an auto-pistol made it clear that Commissar Rigal Chekhov was not a man to be pissed with.

'Figment of your imagination am I boy?' Growled the commissar's ghost dangerously.
Before Vance could move, the bolt pistol had come up, and with a deafening report, the bolt pistol bucked in Rigal's grip, sending the mass-reactive bolt past Vance's head.
Vance couldn't help following the round's path, even though he knew it wasn't real.
The 'ghost bullet' made contact with the head of an ape pack leader directly behind Vance, and made a very real and very corporeal mess of splattered bone and brain.
'Oh, frak.' Said Vance faintly.

'Vance?' It was Spyro, Rigal whipped around and caught sight of the young dragon.
Up came the bolt pistol in the same smooth motion-
'No!' Bellowed Vance, and crash-tackled Rigal, flaming fists first.
The bolt pistol went off again, but the shot went wide, blowing open a cultist's corpse.
Vance punched the commissar in the face, already surprised that he'd even crash-tackled the ghost in the first place.
The flames didn't seem to affect the commissar, so Vance grabbed the ghost by his lapels, then dashed his head against a rock.
Rigal grabbed Vance by the throat, then launched him into the air with ungodly strength, before bringing his bolt pistol around in a two-handed grip, then-

BLAM!

The bolt punched through Vance's armour like so much rice paper, punching right through his guts, and exiting through his back, before detonating.
Vance roared in, pain, then screamed again as he hit the ground, writhing in agony.
Dimly, he heard Spyro calling his name in concern.
Then Vance blacked out as the pain became too much.

Incandiasa came into land on the blast-scape that Vance had left.

He's powerful, I've never been able to summon a fury, let alone one capable of taking out an entire encampment. She thought, noting the only structures left standing were the stockade and some of the more solid buildings.
The only things left alive were Spyro, Sparx and Vance, who appeared to be in the middle of some sort of hallucination.
'Incandiasa, get back, there's some crazy human fighting with Vance!' Warned Spyro in alarm.

'What?' Asked Incandiasa in confusion, she couldn't see any other human but Vance, and he was busy dashing the air against a rock.
Then, all of a sudden, he'd been thrown into the air by something unseen, and a deafening shot ran out, and a spray of blood erupted from Vance's stomach, along with another from his back, followed by a miniature explosion.
He screamed, then screamed again and fell silent when he hit the ground.
Spyro spat a fireball at whatever had dealt Vance the injury, and the fire revealed a human in a robe of some sort.

Incandiasa immediately leapt forward and siezed the human in her jaws, before dashing it into the ground, with a definite crack! of breaking bone.
She saw a fire wreathed arm move towards her, and she dashed the human against the ground a second time, and then a third, and fourth time before it finally lay still.

Leaving the unconscious invisible human to burn, Incandiasa bounded to Vance's side, and saw that whatever had injured him had punched clean through him and his armour.
She also saw an ape's crystal-pouch in Vance's bandolier, and ripped it open in her jaws, letting the energy charged crystals fall to the dirt.
'Come on,' she said, nudging the rubies towards Vance, 'come on, he's injured, isn't that enough?' She said tearfully, of what she wasn't sure.
She could hear the shallow rasp of Vance's laboured breathing, and see the spasmodic jerks of his chest rising and falling.
'Don't die.' She added in a tearful whisper, nudging Vance's side.

'Incandiasa…' Said Spyro, coming to sit beside her, but he couldn't continue.
There was nothing to say.

The rubies, which could heal even the most grievous wounds a dragon could suffer, simply refused to heal the gut-shot Vance had taken from the ethereal being.
Incandiasa mewed unhappily, before impulsively taking one of the gems delicately with her teeth, and placing it into Vance's wound.
He drew a great shuddering gasp of pain, then the other gems came to life, flocking to the site of the grievous wound like moths to a flame, and a glaring point of ruby light accumulated at the injury site, before it faded, leaving a bare patch of skin visible through the ripped fatigues and broken chest-plate.
Vance stirred, rolling sideways with a groan and promptly threw up.
'Frak me,' he said shakily, trying to stand, then saw Incandiasa and Spyro looking anxiously at him.
'What the hell was that?' Asked Sparx, sounding completely freaked out.
A metallic click sounded from behind the two dragons and Vance went very still.

Incandiasa glanced behind herself, and saw what Spyro had been talking about:
The human had a bulky weapon similar to Vance's laspistol, only bigger and obviously more dangerous.
'That was your death incarnate xenos.' Said the human, he had a red sash around his waist, and was wearing a black great coat.

'Kiss my arse Rigal.' Said Vance, then blasted the commissar,-Vance really didn't know what the hell he was but a commissar anymore,- hurling the man through the air, and causing him to drop the bolt pistol.

'Come on, I've got to find my sword before he gets back up,' Said Vance, picking himself up shakily.
'Who is he?' Asked Spyro, eyeing where the commissar had fallen, stunned.
'Commissar Rigal Chekhov,' said Vance, already setting off towards where he could see the corpse of the chieftain he'd thrown the power-sword at when Rigal's voice had come into his head, then tried to kill him. 'He was the commissar attached to my platoon during the assault on Lucifer Hive, but he was killed by a mortar before we got into the hive proper, when I found his body, someone had already stolen his hat, but I stole his sword, which it appears he's decided to haunt until I die so he can cross to the afterlife with his pride intact.' Vance said, 'at least that's my theory at any rate, but he must be connected to the sword somehow, so I've got to sheath it if I'm to get rid of him for the minute.' Vance said, as he ran over to the chieftain's corpse, before pulling the still-active power-sword out of it's back.

A bolter shell went whistling past his head, and Vance ducked again, before frantically jamming the power-sword into it's sheath, before deactivating the power-field.
To Vance's horror, the sword began to draw itself of it's own accord.
Vance grabbed the sword again and rammed it home, before holding it in the sheath.
'Stay in there.' He growled through gritted teeth.

'Private Jenkins!' Yelled Rigal.
'Go frak yourself Rigal, we're not in the Imperium anymore, you're dead, and I'm not going to be on the receiving end of another of your bolter shells.' Shouted Vance in reply.
'Then I'll just kill these xenos-freak creatures you've been consorting with.' Replied Rigal.
Vance's blood ran cold.

'You've got no quarrel with them, just cross to the Emperor's side and know that your sword was saved from the fires of exterminatus, and continues to smite heretics in the Emperor's name.' Vance called back reasonably, from behind the protective bulk of the chieftain's corpse.
The deafening report of Rigal's pistol going off echoed through the ruined encampment, closely followed by a bellow of pain from Incandiasa, and another shot and scream from Spyro a second later.
'I'll do my duty to Him first, and kill you and these xenos before I do that, now come out and face your end like a man, and don't cower like a heretic; you were a good soldier Vance, now, do your duty as a faithful servant of the Emperor and die, you're too dangerous to be allowed to live.' Rigal spat.
'That's what the ecclesiarchy says, the Emperor himself is a psyker, and I'll show my faith by wiping out the heretics that have come here for their own vile purposes, or had you forgotten those cultists with the shields?' Replied Vance.
'The Emperor's wrath will find them in the form of the Holy Ordos of the Inquisition.' Said Rigal dismissively.

Vance wracked his brains, then got a desperate idea.
'You want your sword?' Vance asked, standing and drawing the haunted blade as he did.
In a surge, he leapt over the chieftain's dead body, and hurled the crackling power-sword end-over-end before it buried itself to the hilt in Rigal's chest.
'Take it.' Spat Vance, as Rigal was absorbed back into the sword, which was now embedded point-first in the earth.
Running over, Vance yanked the sword out of the ground, deactivated the disruptor field, and rammed the sword into it's sheath.

Then keeping one hand on the hilt to make sure the sword didn't try and draw itself again, Vance looked around, and saw Incandiasa lying on her side, with a gaping wound in her shoulder where Rigal's bolter shell had detonated, the joint between her shoulder and flying arm was visible in the gaping wound.
'See to Spyro first…' said Incandiasa, before whimpering in pain.

Vance saw Spyro lying on his belly, one hind leg held out from his side, a hole in his thigh clearly visible.
Sparx was hovering by the young dragon's head.
'Vance, you've got to do something!' Said Sparx urgently.
I know,' Vance replied, yanking one of the gem-pouches from his bandolier, tipping the contents onto the ground beside Spyro. 'See if you can't find anymore of these gem pouches, or these red rubies in general.' Vance said, already clustering the red gems next to Spyro, and watching as they flocked to the wound.
As he watched, he saw the muscle knit back together, and veins and arteries reseal, but when the healing was complete, the muscle was still bare to the air.
Vance swore quietly, and pulled the final gem pouch from his bandolier, dumping them next to Spyro, before siezing one of the blue spirit gems, hoping it had some knowledge of healing in it, or some knowledge that he could use.

…-ocus on the distance between you and your target, and imagine see the path your power takes between you and the target as…- Vance swore quietly as a wave of vertigo siezed him, and he dropped the spirit gem again.

'Here,' said Sparx, hefting another pouch to Vance, which promptly caught him in the side of the head, snapping him back to the present.

Vance patiently dumped the remaining gems next to Spyro, watched to be sure they did their job, then crossed back to the chieftain's body, before cutting the bulging sack full of crystals from the corpse, and carrying it back to Incandiasa, dumping the crystals in front of her.
Closing her eyes, the crystals glowed bright, then flew to her wound, as if attracted by a magnet, before healing the gaping hole until it was just a small cut.
Gingerly, Incandiasa stood, before rolling her newly-healed shoulder.
Then she leaned forward and nudged Vance affectionately, nearly knocking him over.
'Thank you,' she said, conveying her gratitude through the simple statement.
Spyro came over to them, with Sparx trailing looking slightly sheepishly.
It occurred to Vance then that something had changed between them now.

They'd lived through a mission that had gone down the crapper nearly from the beginning.
They'd saved each other's lives at least once each, and even Sparx,- who Vance was still inclined to consider an irritation,- had done his part.

Then his eyes fell once again on the scorched front of the stockade.

'Let's see what they were keeping in that stockade, then I'm going to try and scavenge some new armour;' Vance said, still keeping a firm grip on the hilt of the haunted power-sword. 'Don't know what I'm going to do about painting it though.' He said to himself in an undertone.
'Oh yeah Sparx, if you see any twine or string or wire lying around, could you let me know? I really don't want to have to try and keep this sword in it's sheath all the time.' Asked Vance.
'Okay,' Sparx said, before flying directly for the ruined armoury.
As they got to the stockade, Sparx was back, with a long strand of wire.
'Thank you,' Vance said, before unbuckling the sword, then proceeding to thread the wire through the basket hilt, wrap it once around, then tie it to the buckle tight.
Vance rebuckled the sword, and was uncomfortably aware every time the sword gave a tug to try and come free.

'How'd that guy end up haunting your sword anyway?' Asked Spyro.
At this, the sword gave an extra-vigorous pull against the wire.
'I don't know, he was dead when I took it from his dead hand,-which is fair,- it wasn't going to do much good in a dead man's hand.' Admitted Vance defensively. 'I guess his spirit ended up bound to the sword when I got thrown through the warp to here.' He added.

Without further preamble, Vance pried the wooden beam sealing the stockade gates aside, before hauling them wide, stepping back and drawing his soot-blackened lasgun as he did.
He'd given it a fresh power-pack and relocked the bayonet as well.
It was late in the day, but enough light entered the stockade for Vance to make out the occupant.

It was a dragon, chained down so it couldn't move an inch.
It's scales were a sky blue, while it's underbelly was a lustrous grey.
'Anyone still alive in here?' Called Vance, holding his lasgun at ease.
The dragon turned it's head slightly at the sound of his voice.
'Who're you?' It asked, in a thirst-slurred voice.
'My name is Vance Jenkins,' Said Vance.
'You smell like one of those cultists.' Said the dragon suspiciously.
'We killed them all, along with the apes.' Said Incandiasa. 'Also, I vouch for him.' Incandiasa said, starting into the stockade.
'Spyro, you stay here, no telling whether this thing's rigged or not.' Vance said, before following Incandiasa.

'Hold still, I might have to shoot these chains to get 'em off.' Vance said, examining the chains for a point of weakness.
'No need, my jailer is over there, the keys are at his belt.' Said the dragon, flicking his eyes to a bloodied corpse that was sprawled next to the wall.
Vance quickly located the key, and proceeded to unshackle the dragon.

He stood stiffly.
'My thanks.' said the dragon tersely, then saw what was left of the encampment. 'You really made a mess.' He said.
'Who're you anyway?' Asked Vance, sheathing his bayonet again.
'My name is Zephyr.' Replied the dragon, 'where'd you all spring from?'
'We came from the temple, Ignitus is there, awaiting our return.' Replied Incandiasa.
'I'm afraid I'm going to need a drink before I can manage to fly.' Admitted Zephyr, a fact Vance could agree with, considering how heavily he was leaning against Incandiasa.

He found a barrel, slightly scorched, in the debris of a tent near the stockade and gave it a kick.
The sound of liquid sloshing inside was all the confirmation he really needed. Without further preamble, he rolled the barrel over, before upending it.
'What do those marks mean?' Asked Vance, indicating a series of symbols on the cask.
'Water.' Said Incandiasa simply.
Vance nodded, before cracking the top of the cask in with a pack-leader's axe.
Zephyr drank gratefully.
'Now, let's go, I think we might be able to help each other, in the short term at least.' Zephyr said, already sounding a little less lethargic.

Without further ado, Vance climbed onto Incandiasa's back, followed by Spyro, and Incandiasa and Zephyr jumped aloft, Zephyr's amusement not entirely drowned out by the wind.

In case anyone is wondering, I'm not going overboard with the OCs.

Many of them are just being named for the sake of it, particularly the ones on the 40k side of things, many of whom will probably end up dead.

A good many of the OCs I bring in on the Spyro side will not have major rolls either, but will have some function.

Thanks again to Hideout Writer for reviewing.

'til next time:

No One-liners.