Chapter 21
The blast doors slammed closed. The rolling ball of raging fire was cut off suddenly from it sources, and the oily flames winked out of existence with a whoomph. The roar of the Heldrake could still be heard from the other side, but for the moment they were safe.
"Back to the junction," Jak yelled, and the armsmen jogged back to new positions, keeping their guns trained on the blast doors. The passageway was narrower than the vault from which they'd come, but still wide and high enough for the Heldrake to pass through. At the junction it narrowed further, splitting off in three directions, any one of which would be difficult for the creature to squeeze through. They crouched behind engineering terminals and stood in the half-cover of the junction corners, eyes fixed on the blast doors.
The roar of fire could still be heard on the other side focused and steady now. "The beast's trying to melt through the doors." Shadlo said. The metal could be heard creaking in distress as thick slabs of Ceramite absorbed the hellish temperatures. The blast doors were designed to withstand explosions though; Jak was confident they would hold.
Four multi-laser turrets descended from the overhead deck and swivelled to train themselves on the blast doors. A robotic voice announced in calm tones, "Threat identified. Please move out of line of fire."
"What is that thing, Borjean?" Jack asked. "You called it Hell Duck?"
"Close enough, Sir. Heldrake."
"It's a machine abomination," Maternin said, her voice thick with fear and disgust. "Living metal holding daemonic essence fast in our world."
"Sounds about right," Borjean said. "Saw the blighters flying with the enemy in the Praxis Wars. They tore our fighters apart. The wings are sharp enough to cut through adamantium, they're strong enough to crush a Fury in their claws and that flamer in his gullet could roast a pilot in his seat."
"That monster can take on an interceptor?" Casanovus moaned. "Oh, we so very badly need to run away."
The roar of fire halted and was replaced by a slow, rhythmic banging that echoed down the passageways and rattled the decking. "Can it break through those doors?"
Sergeant Shadlo squinted at the blast doors, red hot from the Heldrake's flame. "They're ceramite over adamantium, Sir. But focused heat to weaken them followed by steady pressure. It might be that-"
His voice was cut off by the boom. The blast doors exploded outwards, torn apart as the Heldrake burst through. Its head was lowered and smoke obscured their view as it barrelled into the passageway, screeching triumphantly. The sound was a nightmare that went straight through the ears to the heart and squeezed, terror and despair distilled to a single echoing shriek.
No one needed to give the order to fire. The hellguns of the armsmen joined the Stallion's multilaser defence turrets, cutting through the smoke and lighting up the glowing chrome plating of the Heldrake's armoured body. The beams scanned across its body but the beast absorbed the obscene amount of laser fire without ever seeming to be hurt by it. The Heldrake roared and raised its head until it scraped the upper-deck. It directed a jet of rolling fire at the turrets, obliterating them in seconds, the twisted barrels hanging from their housing, molten metal dripping onto the deck below.
"Bloody lasers aren't going to do it!" Borjean yelled, not letting up his fire. "We need to fall back."
"We need to find a weak spot!" Jak called back from the other side of the passageway. He was yet to fire his storm bolter. "Get the head or between the joints."
Sergeant Mistrex had dropped his hellgun and was strapping up his grav chute. There was a wild-eyed look in his face as he raised his chainsword high above his head. The metal teeth whirred into life and Mistrex gave a whoop of defiance at the roaring Heldrake.
"Only the God-Emperor lives forever!" He screamed, his battle-cry drawing every eye to him. Before anyone could understand his intention, his head was down and legs pumping, sprinting away from them. He ran straight towards the Heldrake. Even the monster itself seemed surprised, swinging its head from side to side, before opening its steel-trap jaws wide to roast the sergeant.
With a dancer's agility, Mistrex side-stepped, not breaking stride for an instant. The man had been a drop-trooper once, practically born in a grav-chute. He knew how to do things with it others might think impossible. He leapt towards the bulkhead, feet striking cleanly to push off and launch himself in the air. With a quick burst of the grav-chutes thrusters he back-flipped over the Heldrake's head, landing at the base of its neck.
Mistrex roared in triumph and pain as he landed. His boots were sizzling, the heat from the cursed creature's body coming off it in waves. He brought his chainsword down against the Heldrake's neck and cried out again as the sparks flew.
"We need to fall back!" Borjean yelled again, but Jak couldn't take his eyes off the sergeant's brave stand. Sparks burst away in all directions from where the ripping teeth of the chainsword met the armoured spine of the Heldrake. It was impossible to see if he was cutting through, but the creature was screaming. It thrashed its neck from side to side, but Mistrex kept his balance even though the heat from the creature's body must have been unbearable.
Jak fancied that for a moment he could see the look of grim triumph in Mistrex's eyes. It was going to work. He could imagine the chainsword ripping through the Heldrake's armoured neck, allowing them to finish off the wounded abomination with las-fire. But then the Heldrake lurched sideways, throwing itself bodily against the portside bulkhead. Mistrex lost balance and the Heldrake gave a jerking heave of its body. Mistrex was thrown free. As he fell towards the deck, the Heldrake swiped out a single wing-blade and sliced straight through the sergeant's midsection. Mistrex's corpse hit the deck in two pieces.
The Heldrake did not exult in the death, it did not even stop to look. It swung its head towards the surviving Yolennas and charged. The sergeant's death had merely given them time to scatter in all directions, pursued by the monster that their weapons could not wound.
=][=
Maternin fled down the passageway, buffeted by sailors to either side of her, everybody scrambling in a mad panic to escape the Heldrake. She could hear it behind her, feel the deck rattling beneath her feet with every thumping step that it took.
Following Borjean, Maternin jinked down a passageway too narrow for the Heldrake to follow. Someone jostled her so hard that she fell to the deck. She caught a glimpse of Casanovuses' scarf, as she tumbled head over heels and came up facing backwards. Her pistol fell from her hand and skidded across the deck. Two armsmen were running towards her, they were going to run straight over her.
The Heldrake's neck craned around the corner, its head as big as a horse. Chrome plated jaws opened and with the speed of a cobra it snatched one of the armsmen. The beast rag-dolled the sailor, shook him back and forth, slamming the body into the second armsman and grinding them both against the bulkhead. They barely had a chance to scream before the creature had destroyed their bodies. It turned its head back and Maternin caught a glimpse of eyes that smouldered like the cores of suns. A wall of heat came off the creature, so thick it was hard to breathe. The Heldrake opened its jaws again and Maternin was momentarily frozen by the horrible sight of the flamer extending from the maw, driven into the throat of the creature like a spear, its pain and rage only possible to express through baleful tongues of flame.
Arms grabbed Maternin beneath both shoulders and heaved her bodily. She caught a glimpse of the flamer igniting and then she was half-hauled, half-thrown, tossed about like she was caught by a wave, the roar of fire like the roar of the ocean. When she could see again, she'd been thrown into a side cabin, and was huddled between Borjean and Casanovus. The three of them took cover on the far side of the room, behind a workbench. The door on the far side of the cabin had slammed closed, and glowed red hot from the flames that the Heldrake was breathing down the passageway on the other side.
"It must require a fuel supply," Maternin babbled, frantically calculating fuel efficiencies in an attempt to calm herself. "A limited supply, perhaps ten minutes of full powered flame. It will run out, or the abomination will need to resupply or-"
"Don't think like that red robe," Borjean said. "This ain't a cogwork puzzle. It's madness from the Warp itself. The blighter doesn't need to make sense. It just is."
"What do we do?" Casanovus cried out. "We're trapped! What do we do?" The heat in the room was rising. The air itself solidifying with oppressive heat, heat that drew into the lungs, that made clothes heavy against the skin. A pipe burst on the far side of the cabin, steam whistling urgently as it escaped. Components melted against the wall. They were slowly being roasted alive.
And then the roar ended, punctuated by a frustrated screech from the Heldrake. Huddled in silence, the three listened to the creature scrabble at the bulkheads for a moment, before it awkwardly turned its massive body and moved off down the larger main passageway.
"It's headed aft," Borjean whispered. With difficulty, the heavy man lifted himself off Maternin. He took his jacket off for a moment and removed his metal cuirass. It dropped to the deck with a clatter and Maternin could hear it plink as it cooled. Borjean ran a finger through moustaches wet with sweat. "Too hot to be bothering with that, I think." He still put the jacket back on though, Maternin noticed. The vain old man loved that jacket, no matter how hot it was.
Maternin was staring at the door, still glowing, but cooling to a dull orange now that the Heldrake was gone. That wasn't her focus though; she was visualising the layout of the ship.
"We can't let it go that way," she said. "There's vitae oxygen banks all along that path. If they burn, the resulting explosion could destroy half the superstructure."
"Blast," Borjean said dryly. "We'll need to draw the beastie away then."
"No," Casanovus said, his voice rising in fear. "You can't, you're mad. We need to get out of here. We can't chase that thing. We need to run!"
But Borjean wasn't listening to the librarian. He checked his bolter and nodded to Maternin.
Borjean wasn't listening to the librarian. He checked his bolter and nodded to Maternin. "Come along red robe. Let's stop the wee dragon from blowing us all sky high."
=][=
Jak crouched alongside Jestross and the five survivors of Worral's squad, trying to coordinate his armsmen scattered across the ship and track the movement of the Heldrake at the same time.
"Sir? What's happening?" Al Dessi's voice came through on the vox, crackling with static.
"We've found what the Ryleth were worshipping, but the bloody thing shrugs off hellguns and multilasers like they're a light show."
"Sir, can you evacuate? Tellmos can have the shuttle ready to go in ten if you can muster at the launch bay."
"I'm not leaving this thing roaming the ship Al Dessi. It's between us and the launch bay in any case."
"Sir, if we can't kill it with the Yolenna's best weapons, then-"
"We're not leaving it Al Dessi! This is my ship now. Mine!" Jak stood up, hugging his storm bolter close to his chest
"Sir," Worral interrupted. "Could the Yolenna Symphony's anti-torpedo guns not kill the Heldrake?"
"How wouldst thou lure it close enough?" Jestross asked.
"We don't need to get it that far," Jak said, feeling the faint glimmer of a plan coming together in his mind.
Footsteps clattered on the deck, running towards them, and the armsmen tensed and hefted their weapons. But no Heldrake was going to move that lightly, nor pant like he'd just run a marathon.
"Sir," Borjean was red faced and gasping as he came around the corner. "Sir, beg to report our daemon dragon is hng," he clutched at his chest and took a deep, steadying breath. Borjean's return to heavy drinking had clearly taken a toll on his stamina. "Daemon dragon is heading towards some highly combustible equipment. We'd be best off turning him around."
"Right," Jak said. "Al Dessi, beat to quarters and crew the guns. Bring the Yolenna around nine points by the starboard and quarter power to Red Rhoda. Have Tellmos open up the docking gate and prepare the shuttle for immediate departure on my order."
"Aye Sir, starboard by the spire and quarter power to the forward lance, Mr Tellmos in the air and waiting, sir."
"Very good. Sergeant Worral, if you'd be so good as to get your people down to the launch bay deck and return to the Perpetua Demitto. I want you starboard side and firing as soon as you see the Heldrake. Don't stand your ground, just get its attention and run. Get to the far starboard side of the ship and hold till you hear the order."
"Your word and the Emperor's will, Sir!" Worral snapped to attention, and her armsmen behind her readied themselves to go back in to the breech.
"Borjean, Jestross, my lads," Jak grinned. "You're with me."
=][=
It was not hard to follow that path of the Heldrake through the ship. It had taken the central passageway, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Its razor-sharp wings had dragged deep gouges into the bulkheads on either side of the passageway and exposed fittings had been demolished by its bulk as it passed.
She caught up to the creature when it was twenty metres away from the pressurised tanks, its armoured back to her. She'd lost her gun in the first mad scramble for survival, and had no idea how to attack it now, but she knew that it couldn't be allowed to continue on its current path.
Maternin eyed a length of piping, angled out from the bulkhead where the coupling had burst. Murmuring a plea for forgiveness from the Machine God, she took the pipe in hand and wrenched it free from the bulkhead.
"You there!" She called, stumbling after the Heldrake. She willed herself to keep moving, forced herself to ignore the fear and the rational part of her mind that screamed at her to flee. "You! Stop!" With a grunt of exertion, she threw the pipe overarm. It clanged against the Heldrake's tail and the creature froze.
It snorted and then made a whine, a noise somewhere between confusion and anger. Maternin felt panic seize her. She flung herself against the bulkhead, sidling behind the hydrogen detection altar and into the shadows. She heard the squeal of metal as the Heldrake struggled to turn around, the deliberate clang of claws against the deck, the steady furnace roar of its breath growing louder. It was coming her way.
Closing her eyes and willing her breathing to be quieter, Maternin tried not to imagine the creature slowly walking towards her. What were its senses like, she could not help but wonder. Did it have a sense of smell? Could it track her by some electro-magnetic sense like the Corpuscarii used? Her chest felt like an ice-cold fist had gripped her heart. Her body was frozen. The parts of her mind that thought fast and slow, human and Mechanicus, were both telling her that she was doomed, that any moment now she would feel its roasting breath and the fangs sinking into her body.
A blast of hot air hit her and she opened one eye. The Heldrake was passing. Up close she could see the scaled plating of its sinuous neck, the horrific markings of chaos that glowed like fresh brandings. The heat coming off of the creature was enough to singe her robes. She was paralysed with fear of the beast, unable to move in case it saw her, but knowing that inevitably it would turn its head, or she would scream out at the fear and pain of its very presence.
And then a sound, a familiar sound. A boom and the roar of twin rockets. The holy storm bolter. She looked up and saw the Heldrake's head, big as her whole body, slammed by two bolts that exploded against its face. The creature gave a screech of rage and bounded towards the shooter. Maternin sank to her knees, gasping with relief, realising that she'd been holding her breath the entire time.
=][=
Seeing the Heldrake running towards him, Jak almost dropped the storm bolter. He had been prepared for the weight of the thing and the kick of its recoil, but he still felt like his shoulder had been near-wrenched from its socket. The weapon was a mighty one, favoured by the Adeptus Astartes, modified for a mere mortal's use and typically wielded by someone wearing power armour. Yet despite its destructive power, the Heldrake had shrugged both bolts off as mere annoyances and was currently shrieking in rage as it bore down on him.
Jak saw its jaws open and knew that he'd never be able to outrun the flames. Borjean reacted faster, slamming his shoulder in his captain's body and bearing them both down. They'd situated themselves next to the downstairs hatch, and Borjean threw them both down it. Jak hit the top step and rolled, feeling every metal corner jabbing into his body. The world was thrown into chaos as they hit the deck, and heard the boom of the Heldrake's flames hitting the spot where they had just been standing.
"Stay down," Borjean screamed as the decking directly above them was obliterated. They crawled on their elbows away from the destruction, faces pressed to the deck as burning shrapnel rained down on them. Only sheer adrenaline kept Jak from screaming out as a red-hot shards hit his bare arm, his skin sizzling at the touch. Borjean kept his body over Jak's, bearing the brunt of the burning debris.
When they'd cleared the falling wreckage, both men rolled onto their backs to look up. A four metre wide section of the deck above had disappeared, replaced by a ragged hole that dropped cooling metal from its glowing hot edges. Jak could see the shadow of the Heldrake through that hole. The creature struggling to crane its neck down and finish the job on the two men.
"Beast! Thou must face the knives of the Jerikyl before thou battles the pride-leader!" Jak could not see Jestross but he could imagine the sight, the fearless xenos standing tall with his knives held aloft, taunting the Heldrake. The creature was impossible to kill but it was proving easy to distract and direct. Its head immediately swung towards Jestross.
"How fast art thou, beast?" Jestross called out, and gave a clacking, howling war-cry. The Heldrake screamed its own reply and gave chase.
Jak and Borjean slowly rose to their feet. Borjean's jacket was still smouldering in a dozen places, he was bleeding from a cut to his head and his moustache had been singed. He shrugged the jacket off and gave his whiskers a rueful tweak.
"That bloody critter's done it now," he muttered and Jak nodded.
"We need to keep heading down," he said, retrieving his storm bolter. "To the launch bay deck."
=][=
The first thing Maternin did, when she was able to stand up again, was run to where her length of pipe had landed and retrieve it. It wasn't much of a weapon, but she wasn't so deeply seeped in the cold rationality of the Adeptus Mechanicus that she wouldn't accept the slight psychological comfort of its weight in her hands. That done, she jogged back down the passageway to find the rest of her crew.
She stopped at the pit that the Heldrake had created; a patch of melted decking that spanned the width of the passageway. The monster had easily leapt over it, but Maternin had no such option. Gingerly, she lowered herself over the sloped, sinking edge of warped metal grating and dropped to the deck below.
The wall lumens were off on this deck, presumably due to damaged electrical systems from the Heldrake's attack. Looking either way down the passageway, Maternin could see little in the gloom. In the distance, amidships, she could hear the Heldrake's roar. Shuddering, she took a step away from the noise. Her foot brushed something in the darkness. She bent down, found her hand touching leather, and came up holding Borjean Narn's greatcoat, covered in burn holes. There was no sign of the man himself. Had he passed this way and thrown off his jacket, or had it been torn off him.
Maternin looked around, wishing that her ocular implants had provided her with some form of night vision. It was so hard to see anything, relying only on the light cast by the hole to the deck above. She cautiously took a few steps forward, and listened for sounds of Borjean or the captain. "Is anyone there?" She called out tentatively.
Tck-Tck-Tck.
A sound, much closer than the Heldrake's distant carnage. Not a mechanical noise either, not a noise of the ship, but something organic and guttural. Maternin spun around. She could see no sign of anything.
Tck-Tck-Tck.
It crawled out of the shadows on six legs, scuttling along the decks and up the bulkhead until it was at about head height with Maternin. Arthropodean maxillae pulsated in its vertical slit mouth as it peered at her curiously through segmented eyes and quietly chittered to itself.
Tck-Tck-Tck.
Another of the creatures crawled forward, and a third. Ryleth. Maternin recognised them from the captain's descriptions. The worshippers of the Heldrake. Did they understand what it was? Did they truly see it as a God, or were they as terrified of it as Maternin was and desperate to appease it? As curious as she was, she knew that now was not the time for answers. Gaze narrowing, she hefted her pipe over her shoulder.
The one on the bulkhead leapt fist, spiked limbs outstretched. Maternin swung the pipe with both hands, catching the creature in its midsection. It was surprisingly heavy, and she was forced backwards on her feet as the Ryleth was barely fended away. Another of the xenos darted forward, but reared up and back as Maternin swung the pipe back its way.
"Back!" She yelled, hoping they understand the message. She jabbed the pipe towards them as if it were a mighty weapon. "Back!"
Another jumped into the air and again Maternin barely kept it at bay, but it was a feint. Maternin saw the other Ryleth's leap from the corner of her eye, and knew that she wasn't going to be fast enough to keep it from landing on her, from stopping those vicious bladed limbs from driving home.
The Ryleth exploded in mid-air, shot by an explosive round that shredded its body, splattering Maternin with viscous internal fluids and gore.
"Ho there, you blighters!" Maternin turned to the new voice behind her. Another Ryleth exploded. "Steady now! Plenty for everyone!" Borjean, bloody, burned and bolter in hand, was running down the corridor. With a smile of relief and renewed determination, Maternin swung her pipe back towards the remaining Ryleth.
=][=
Jak was portside of the Perpetua Demitto, on the launch bay level. He could see Worral's squad on the other, their guns firing upwards, but he wasn't able to see their target. He leaned forward, craning his neck to see up the shaft, and caught sight of the Heldrake as it threw itself off the edge.
Its metal wings cast a great shadow as it flew down, the wingtips nearly reaching across the vastness of the Perpetua Demitto. It was a graceful motion made horrifying by the glimpse of wicked claws and a searing underbelly of molten, nightmare-fuelled warp power barely restrained by pulsing armoured plates that rose and feel against daemon's breath.
The Heldrake landed at the edge of Worral's squad and immediately began flaming. Jak heard the flames and screams and hoped that most of them had got away in time. He put the storm bolter to his shoulder and braced his feet. Murmuring a prayer for destructive power –the size of the creature meant he didn't have much need to ask for aim- he sighted down the double barrel of the heavy bolt gun, took a slow, stilling breath, and fired.
The storm bolter recoiled like a hammer to the chest as the twin bolts streaked away. Jak's first shot had barely seemed to dent the creature, and he had little hope that the second would do much better. He simply wanted its attention.
He got it. The Heldrake screamed, cutting off the stream of its flamethrower, and craned its neck almost 180 degrees over its wing to glare with malice and bloodlust at Jak across the other side of the Perpetua Demitto.
"That's right," Jak muttered through gritted teeth. "Come chase me."
The Heldrake started to turn awkwardly on the spot, and Jak saw its hind legs tense. He didn't wait to watch any longer. He turned and sprinted away.
The whole deck shuddered as the Heldrake landed behind him, and its screech echoed down the passageway, bouncing off the bulkheads around him. The central passageway between the launch bay and the Perpetua Demitto was wide enough for a squadron of Leman Russ tanks to drive through three abreast. The Heldrake would have space to build up a fair amount of running speed.
"How are we doing Ms Al Dessi?" He panted into his microbead.
"The ship is in position, Sir, gun crews are primed for your order, but they need a firing solution."
"Have Etherics lock-on to my vox signal. That's your firing solution."
"Sir, that-"
"Just do it! And tell Tellmos to take off, get the shuttle out of here!"
Borjean and Maternin came out of a junction ahead of him. Jak saw their eyes widen looking past him. They didn't need his screamed order to "Run!" They could see the Heldrake bearing down on them, it's stumbling, awkward gait the only thing keeping it from catching them and tearing them to shreds or roasting them in their boots.
Behind Borjean and Maternin a dozen of more Ryleth were in pursuit, filling up the passageway. The continued to follow as the three sailors ran down the central passageway, skittering between the Heldrake's legs.
Jak saw the launch bay doors up ahead. Throwing the storm bolter to the side –he would ask the gun's spirit for forgiveness later-, he sprinted towards the locking mechanism and slammed his hand against the terminal. The wait for the doors to slide open was unbearable.
"Go! Go!" Maternin and Borjean hustled through the doors as they were still opening. Jak turned to see the Heldrake pause and the flamer extending from it maw. He threw himself through the doors and rolled desperately to the side as the flames spewed forth.
Coming up standing, his body screaming in pain from the bruising he'd been taking and the searing flames he'd just avoided, Jak kept moving forwards. Maternin and Borjean was heading to the shuttle, which Tellmos had kept hovering in the launch bay, thrusters firing to keep it a wobbling few metres off the ground.
"Dammit Tellmos!" Jak yelled, and then to Maternin and Borjean. "Not the shuttle! The bunker! Get to the fire bunker!"
"Heard the weather was getting hot, Sir," came back the voice of the cheerfully nonchalant shuttle pilot. "Didn't want to leave you here to sweat on your own."
"Get to the damn fire bunker!" Jak yelled again, running in that direction. The fire bunker lay against the starboard side of the bay, in the other direction to the shuttle. "Get out of here Tellmos!"
Before the doors to the launch bay had fully opened, the Heldrake burst through, forcing its bulk through the gap. As soon as it was inside the Heldrake spread its wings and lifted its head, keening a triumphant, daemonic scream.
"Sir?" Tellmos sounded confused for the first time. Borjean and Maternin were now running away from him and towards the bunker. Jak watched as the Heldrake lowered its gaze and leapt towards the shuttle. The shuttle swung around jerkily to face it, thrusters not designed for such a maneuverer. It brought its guns to bear on the Heldrake, but they were anti-infantry weapons, designed for clearly the route for a landing party, not taking on a creature such as this.
The Heldrake threw itself against the shuttle, all four sets of claws driving deep into the cockpit, dragging the shuttle back down to the deck. The shuttles guns roared as the gunners fired everything they had into the creature, but it wasn't enough to make the Heldrake let go.
The portside docking gate was open, and a faint shimmering void shield was the only thing between them and the void. For a brief moment Jak considered just venting the Heldrake into space, but he dismissed the idea almost immediately. He wanted the monster dead, and there was no clear way to get it in range of the Yolenna's anti-ordnance guns. There was only one way to guarantee a direct hit against a creature this size.
The cries of Tellmos and his small crew could be heard as flame and claw devastated the shuttle. Jak could only watch the destruction, unable to drag its attention away. He wasn't in position yet, they weren't ready for his final desperation gambit. He turned to run towards the bunker. Borjean was inside and Maternin was holding the door open.
The screams from the shuttle had mercifully died off, but the horrific noises of the Heldrake triumphant still rang out. This had clearly been a pleasurable kill for it, one worthy of celebrating.
"Al Dessi! Ready the lance!"
"Lance ready at your order, Sir!"
Maternin had the door to the fire bunker open, Jak was only about ten metres away. He couldn't help but turn back to where the Heldrake had smashed the shuttle to the deck and was astride it, screaming triumphantly. Its head swung around and caught sight on Jak. Smoke rose from its nostrils and its eyes flared with an ancient, intelligent malevolence. Jak saw the coiled wires running up and down the creature's legs tense, ready to spring. Ready to bring him down and tear him apart.
The Heldrake leapt. Jak turned and sprinted the last few metres. He could see the fear in Maternin's eyes, could almost feel the claws in his back already. He threw himself through the doorway, yelling as he did.
"Fire!"
=][=
Maternin heaved the heavy bunker door closed with all her might. Tumblers automatically clicked into place and gears whirred as the door sealed tight shut. Under half a second later she heard the roar outside, and felt the deck shake beneath her. She was thrown to the ground beside Captain Velasquez and Borjean.
The only light into the fire bunker had come from a narrow length of plas-glass set two metres deep into the thick adamantium walls. It went suddenly dark against a blinding flash outside the bunker, as the explosive power that was hitting the ship rattled their bones and vibrated through the decking.
When the ship had finally stopped shaking, Maternin slowly raised her head. Red light from emergency lumens cast an eerie glow. The back-up generators within the bunker had come on, meaning a catastrophic power failure on the landing deck. She turned to look at Jak Velasquez and Borjean Narn, who were sprawled against each other in an exhausted heap.
"What was that?"
The captain's eyes were closed and his chest was heaving but a mad, satisfied smile split his face.
"Red Rhoda."
"What?"
"The for'ard lance. If that doesn't kill the Heldrake, well then nothing we've got will."
"You fired the ships lance at the Stallion of the Empire? At us?"
Still sprawled on the floor, Borjean Narn started to laugh, the sound becoming manic until it dissolved into a fit of coughing. "You mad bastard. I need a drink."
Maternin paced around the confines of the fire bunker, gently pressing against the door console. It was dead. Their vox had died out too. "We're trapped in here. We're probably buried under multiple tonnes of rubble, I could estimate how much if I knew-."
"It doesn't matter." Jak cut her off. Slowly, he eased himself off the deck, wincing at the pain. "If we've killed it, then Al Dessi knows to come look for us in here. They'll dig us out in a while."
"And if we haven't killed then my preference is to stay in here until it gets bored," Borjean added, removing a hip flask from his pocket.
"Sir, if I may ask, how did you know that the fire bunker would survive a hit from a lance?"
"Garian Sykarin. He told me that it had happened to him once."
"You risked all our lives on one man's story?"
Borjean grunted and answered for the captain. "Any one of us would trust Sykarin with our life. And he was right, wasn't he? The bunker held up."
"What do we do now?"
"We wait," Jak said. He sat down on the edge of the terminal and fished a cigar out of his pocket, along with a hand-lighter. He didn't light the cigar though, not yet. Perhaps, Maternin thought, he was sensible enough not to waste their limited supply of oxygen. Or perhaps he had just had enough of fire for a while.
They sat in silence. Maternin tried to wrap her head around the events of the last twenty-four hours. From their first steps aboard the Stallion of the Empire to now, it had been a dizzying whirr of action that had brought her to this place, alone with these two men who had saved her life and nearly killed her, buried under wreckage of a sacred ship that she'd helped to damage and desecrate, praying to the Machine God that an abomination of construction she had once thought to be only a myth had been destroyed by lance fire.
"How did we get here?" She asked, and suddenly realised that she was speaking out loud.
"Getting philosophical, red robe?" Borjean grinned.
"Why did you come on this voyage?" Maternin heard the words coming from her mouth and was surprised. She wouldn't usually have the nerve to ask such a question. Velasquez seemed surprised as well.
"Come again?"
"Why are you here? Why did you set off on this voyage to the far edge of the Empire?"
"Star-faring is the family business, I suppose. My father was a Solar Admiral."
"Why take the Letter of Marque?" Borjean pretended to be studying the detailing on his hip flask but Maternin could tell from his expression that he was intently interested in her line of questioning. Feeling emboldened she continued.
"My father had… enemies in the Admiralty. They didn't like him, but he was a hero to millions so they couldn't get rid of him. Then his children got in the way."
"How did they get in the way?"
Jak sighed and gave a weary smile. "I was a lieutenant on board a vessel that came through a Warp storm and our captain went mad. The senior officers had to relieve him of his duties. He fought back, he died. There was a court martial. I was cleared of any wrong-doing but it was a blow to father. Worse was what my sister did. She became involved with a cult that was declared heretical. The Inquisition got involved. Father banished her to save us the shame but the damage was done. His enemies struck."
"By giving him the Letter of Marque?"
Borjean took up the story now. "They couldn't destroy the man honourably, the cowards, so they did the next best thing. They took the Navy away from him." He held up a hand. "Ah, I know it might sound a trifling thing, but to a man like Admiral Velasquez it was the same as taking away your fancy red robes."
"Father was determined to make the most of it though. He invested all of the family money into this venture, sold all our holdings, and took out incredible, astronomical loans. He put everything we had into this one opportunity. He was going to apply for a Warrant of Trade upon our return, create a merchant dynasty. He never did anything by halves."
"And your sister?"
"Huh?"
"Your father took you along on this voyage. What happened to your sister?"
"Retta, her name was Amaretta. But we always called her Little Retta. I don't know. She disappeared when she found out the Inquisition were after her. I wanted to stay and help her but father needed me with him. She's gone now, like Mustek and like father."
The expression on Jak's face was all too familiar to Maternin. She'd had no mirror on the Yolenna Symphony, but she was sure that her face had taken on a similar age and haunted expression since she'd first met the captain. Captain Velasquez was a man haunted by the ghosts of his family. She felt almost overwhelmed by the urge to tell him that she understood, that she knew what he was going through. But she knew that she couldn't.
"What brought you to the stars, little red robe?" Borjean asked gently. It was some time before she answered.
"It was family for me as well," she said. "My mother and father were… experimentors. It is not a term that translates well into Gothic. It means priests who follow the path of Trial and Error. Who try to improve our machine spirits, maximise efficiency and effectivity through action and analysis."
Borjean and Velasquez exchanged glances. "Sounds worthwhile," the captain hazarded.
"It is extremely worthwhile. It is a holy cause. But not all in the Adeptus Mechanicus see it that way. For some, like Dhukov, it borders on heresy."
"So, what trial and error brought you out to the far edges of the galaxy?"
Maternin hesitated. Dhukov had discovered the truth of their mission and held it over her head, but he was dead now. Why risk sharing her secret with others when she didn't need to? But some part of her felt that she did need this. She thought of the guilt that she still felt over her mother's death, the ghost that she had seen during the Warp storm. Even though it had really been Timmon setting out to torture her some more, guilt and the awful magiks of the Immaterium had made her see her mother in that moment.
She decided then and there to tell them the whole truth.
"We were there to trade with the Eldar."
The cigar dropped out of the captain's hand. "You what?"
"It was my fault," and the words began to tumble out in a rush. "We had been conducting absolutely secret research into the Kabalite Eldars' ability to interfere with electronic system. I made a discovery in my work that allowed us to contact the Eldar. We had hoped to trade with them, share in their knowledge. It was sanctioned by our Forge World, but in total secrecy, due to the attention it would gain from the conservative factions."
"Not to mention the bloody Inquisition," Borjean muttered.
"The Kabalite Eldar sent us coordinates, and we set out on a single ship, no Skitarii, only Genitari crew and researchers. We met the Eldar as planned, and my father was preparing to conduct the trade. But it was a trap. The whole thing. Two more ships joined the first. The Eldar we were trading with killed my father in front of me."
Maternin was shaking. Her life, her training, her faith and her construction had all served to keep emotions at a great distance, cordoned away as irrational and messily organic. The machine did not cry, the machine did not rage. But now, as she retold her story, grief and rage threatened to overwhelm her.
"We had kept all our research into Eldar technology on the ship. As they slaughtered the crew, my mother and I worked to compile and transmit the data, so that one day our fellow priests might find it and continue the Omnissiah's work. My mother died protecting me so that I could finish the transmission. She died trying to protect my discovery. Because of my discovery."
Maternin looked up at her captain, through eyes that were mechanically unable to produce tears. She heard her voice thick with bitterness and regret as she said, "I am a heretek. I confess my crimes to you, Captain. We were seduced by the knowledge of the alien, had contact with the alien, and foolishly allowed the loss of two ships because we trusted the alien."
A drawn-out silence, settled over the group. Borjean took a long swig from his flask, but seemed uncommonly without comment.
"I might have a different view of heresy than most," Jak said at last, "But I don't see a problem, here. You wanted to know how the Eldar can scramble our etherics? I'd kill for that knowledge. You trusted an alien? I owe my life to an alien. I've fought alongside Jestross long enough to know that humans aren't the only ones with something to teach the galaxy about kicking arse."
"But-"
"No," the captain said firmly. "All that matters is what you do and why, not what you look like or what you believe. At least, that's all that matters on my ship. You've done more than enough to earn your place on my crew and that's the end of it."
Borjean grinned his approval and seemed about to speak, when the sounds of clanking came from somewhere above them. The rubble was being shifted. Moments later the vox crackled to life as the system started broadcasting again.
"Captain? Are you there? We're clearing the rubble. Do you copy?"
Jak gave a slight tilt of his head, and a broad grin settled on his face. He put the lho-cigar between his lips and flicked the lighter. "They're going sing stories about us folks," he crowed. "One shot to kill a dragon!"