Speculum Enigmate Chapter 22

The path unwound before Gotram, revealing more of itself with every step he took. It was an unnerving sensation, letting his feet take him where they will, but he had no choice. He knew that he was close to his goal, though he had no idea where that certainty arose from, merely a result of the stolen memories he had consumed.

The Omophagea was a mysterious and poorly understood implant, its operation and secrets an enigma. Little was known and most of what was commonly held to be true was largely guesswork. Perhaps that strange polymath Belisarius Cawl had uncovered its secrets but if so he chose to keep that information to himself. Gotram had never used his implant in the field, most Space Marines avoided it where possible, but the feeling within him told him it was working. Deep within his subconscious mind information was being unpacked, taken from the brain he had consumed. The memories were jumbled and disordered and came to his conscious mind in a blurring sensation of experiences. He knew how it had felt to be a filthy mutant, an abdominal hybrid of human and alien. Their communal psyche and purpose had filled this being, driving it towards a goal it could not understand but trusted implicitly. Gotram observed this as an orbital surveyor observes weather patterns, the information was there but it did not impact him. But more importantly he had gained an instinctive understanding of the Hybrid's home and the route to its nest. He could not have drawn a map to the location if he tried but his feet knew the way, steering him through every turn as if he had walked it a thousand times.

Behind him came the rest of the party, the Reivers and the Inquisitor's Retinue. They were a gaggle of misfits and rogues and in Gotram's opinion the Eldar fit in amongst them seamlessly. He was honestly more trouble by the woman in silver armour with a great sword, something about her set his hackles rising, an instinctive loathing he couldn't quite define. At the very rear of the party came Jediah in his battered armour, Fractal-edged short sword in hand. Gotram could feel those cold eyes upon his back, predatory and judging. The Lieutenant had forced Gotram to eat the brain, though it had disgusted him and so pushed him ever further into the darkness within his own heart. Gotram didn't resent him though, for he was starting to understand the Lieutenant. Jediah had cut away all the trappings of the Astartes, honour, valour and tradition, to leave the pure core exposed: not warriors but weapons. Few of his kind understood this truth, they blinded themselves with ideals of nobility, but the emperor had forged not men but weapons to fight his wars. The threats assailing mankind in this age of woe were too terrible for mere men to face, only living weapons could face the horror between the stars and prevail.

Gotram's musings came to an abrupt halt as his feet took him to a dark archway. He waved the others down and they lurked by the entrance as he gazed within. Before him stretched a long hallway, stacked with boxes and guarded by two Hybrids. They were wearing ratty fatigues and filthy boots, but there was nothing shabby about the lasrifles they bore in their hands. Gotram made to stand up but was stopped by Inquisitor Vevara's hand on his arm as she waved the silver-clad woman forward. It seemed ridiculous to Gotram that she could approach them unnoticed yet as soon as she came near they seemed to sag, as if their minds were befuddled. For a moment their guard dropped and then she struck, two slashes of her Greatsword and they went down, collapsing into bloody heaps.

Jediah stood up and marched within, stepping over the bodies to examine one of the crates. He lifted the lid and declared, "Krak missiles."

The Imperial Guard soldier, Eirk, looked into another and said, "Rocket tubes, autocannons, demolition charges, las-packs… there's enough gear here to fit a small army."

"Where's it all come from?" Gotram wondered as they proceeded further along their route.

Vevara replied, "We heard from a local source that weapons had been smuggled into the undercity."

"This is worse than we realised," Gotram hissed, "They've got enough munitions to start a war."

"Or end one," Jediah muttered, "We have to stop them."

Gotram led them through a series of rooms, each stacked high with weapons. Gotram grew more concerned with every step but soon they reached a different place. They stepped out onto a high balcony, looking out over a large circular chamber. It looked like some vast auditorium, a place laden with tarnished brass and crumbling statues. Rotten seats stood on elevated platforms, separated by wide gaps and a huge crystal clock hung over the centre of the room, glowing softly. The sight of such faded magnificence underground flummoxed Gotram, as if some high nobleman's ballroom had fallen under the city and been built over. It took him a few seconds to scour the floor before he noted rail tracks buried under piles of filth and he realised he was looking at an underground transit hub, a subway station for passengers to travel through the city. It may well have laid here since before the Imperium arrived on Pascum and with this society's typical flair they had invested a great deal of time and effort into its beautification.

The place may have been abandoned by its builders but it was not deserted. Scattered about were numerous Hybrids, all wearing sturdy flack armour and carrying lasrifles and other armaments. They were notably taller and broader than the weak scum the Space Marines had already dispatched, their physique bulging with inhuman muscles. Some form of elite guard no doubt. At the centre of this gathering were a young man and a woman, bound by metal cables and sitting upon the dirty floor. They appeared to have been weeping, both of them and their heads were low in unconscious slumbers.

Jediah jerked his hand rapidly and the party spread out along the high balcony, making the most of the element of surprise. The Reivers took out grapple guns and silently drove their points into the damp stone, then fixed the devices to their belts. The Inquisitor and Jediah would have to make do with what they had. As he worked Gotram's genhanced hearing detected one Hybrid saying, "Why don't we turn 'em?"

Another growled, "Don't be daft, we need 'em clean and unsullied when the bodies are found."

"But why?" the first said, "Get a Brood-brother up 'ere to give 'em the Kiss and they'll be part of the Kiith."

"That ain't the plan," the other spat, "We needs 'em pure when they wash up in the alleys. Those fools upstairs will riot just as we wants but if anything's smells funny they'll catch on and it will all fall apart."

While they nattered Gotram took a shock grenade from his belt. The others did the same and on his nod they hurled the grenades over the railing. A disorienting shriek and blazing lights erupted, filling the place with bedlam and calamity and in that moment the Reivers pounced. Gotram's grapple unwound at a ferocious rate as he hurtled downwards and in seconds he hit the floor. He snapped free of his line and dove at the nearest foe, knife and bolt pistol in hand.

"For the Omniss…" was all he managed to cry before the beefy Hybird spun about and tried to ram a bayonet into his stomach. Gotram barely managed to twist aside as the point scored over his belly armour and the hybrid snarled at him with a mouth jammed with too many teeth. That shouldn't be possible, he should be blinded and reeling, not fighting back like a Wildman. Gotram stabbed downward but only managed to tear a deep furrow into the shoulder, making the monstrosity grin. The enemy threw himself at Gotram and tackled him about the waist, were he only human he would have been bowled over and even for a Primaris the impact made him rock back. Gotram stabbed down with his knife but the blade merely tore at the flak jacket, its power robbed by the reinforced fibres. Desperate for space Gotram dropped his arms and locked them around the biceps of his foe. He heaved upwards and brought their heads level, then drove his forehead into his enemy's face, shattering the nose. An open hand to the gut forced the Hybrid back but he swiftly regained his balance.

The Hybrid grinned around a broken nose as he leered, "The mother has blessed my genes with strength many times that of a normal man."

"Shame she didn't bless you with brains," Gotram snapped as he dove to one side.

It was then that the Hybrid noticed the frag grenade tucked into the front of its shirt, right where Gotram had left it. The Hybrid grasped at its clothes but was too slow to stop the soft crump that sent it flying backwards, its flesh torn to shreds by the blast. Gotram wasted no time to throw himself at the next foe, joining the embattled Reivers. Everywhere Primaris wrestled with Hybrids, at close range they should hold the advantage but the enemy was fierce and powerful. They wielded a variety of strange and macabre weapons, chain-flails, serrated shields, stabbing hook-blades and vibro-knifes. The Primaris hadn't been expecting a serious fight, but they were yet transhuman fought back with all their skill and ardour.

Gotram hacked and stabbed at foes, he cut and sliced and shot at point-blank range. Around him his fellows did the same but they were surrounded and outnumbered. Then Brother Gadwen took a knife to his spine and fell to his knees. The Hybrids closed in, eager for the kill but were stunned when Gadwen leapt to his feet and threw himself at them in a feral rage. His speed and power were magnified to incomprehensible levels as he tore a path through his foes. He was a mad dervish, uncaring for injury or pain. It was his Belisarian Furnace, the additional implant that granted Primaris one last burst of vitality when they were seriously injured and at risk of death.

The Hybrids were rocked back by Gadwen's mad charge and then the second wave hit them. A purple beam of energy stuck a Hybrid in the back and disintegrated him to flecks of ash, while another was shot by a Grav-blast, crushing him into a ball no bigger than a marble. Gotram saw the Inquisitor's party advancing, laying down covering fire. Eirk's Hellgun blasts punched holes into Hybrid's backs while the Eldar jumped vertically upwards, bouncing off a free-standing pillar to sail overhead as he rained down las-fire and cried, "For the pride of Furta-Rith!" The silver warrior was there too, her presence making the Hybrids reel in a way the Shock grenades had failed to do.

The Hybrids quailed under this fresh assault, and then Jediah charged into the fray. The Lieutenant tackled a Hybrid from behind and tore out its spine, then he slit the throat of another before disembowelling a third. In one charge he turned the tide of the battle and Gotram leapt to follow but then a larger foe appeared. From the packed ranks of the foe came a giant Hybrid, easily Jediah's height and even broader. He was covered in scales and on his forearms were two bulky devices, like stacked leaves. Jediah hesitated not as he threw himself at the foe but his head was nearly taken off as the foe swung at him and the bulky devices oscillated outwards like a fan. Extending blades shot out into a circular shield, centred on a metal buckler but the edges were sharpened with the distinctive gleam of monomolecular filaments.

Jediah was forced to duck to avoid having his head taken off by the whirling blades and he fell back as the brute screamed it's frustration. It chased him step for step, arms swinging wildly and its small piggy eyes filled with unthinking hatred. Gotram tried to see a way to intervene but was beset by other foes, he could only fight on as Jediah duelled alone. As he hacked at his foes Gotram saw Jediah dodge a slash and strike back, but his sword deflected off a rounded shield, their value for defence matching their offensive ability. The brute leered as it retracted its blades and came at him with a punch that folded Jediah over his midriff. The Hybrid roared as its other fist rose high, preparing for one last blow to finish him off. Yet as it struck Jediah twisted hard and rammed his shoulder forward.

The blow merely glanced off his pauldron, crumpling the Ceramite but failing to reach the warrior within. In return Jediah's boot came up between its legs and there was a soft thump as he smashed its groin hard. The Hybrid collapsed to its knees, eyes filled with agony and Jediah grabbed its right arm, bringing it across the brutes' collar. Somehow he found the means to trigger the fan-blades and the oscillating leaves shot out, swinging around at lightning speed to close the circle. The Hybrid's neck was caught within the arc of its own blade and the monomolecular edge cut through flesh and bone effortlessly, spraying blood in a wide circle. The brute was still for a moment, then toppled over, missing a head and leaving Jediah standing triumphant, holding the fan-blades in one hand.

The foe fell at Jediah's feet and Gotram saw the rest of the Hybrids were dead and the field was clear. He hastily checked on Gadwen, who was yet breathing, though he shook with come down from his Furnace. Gotram felt a score of wounds burning and hissed, "That was too close."

Jediah was playing with the fan-blades, retracting and extending them thoughtfully as he muttered, "We still won."

Gotram frowned as he said, "Are you going to play with that or help us?"

Jediah looked up as he clipped the closed fan to his belt and ordered, "Grab the mortals, we need to move."

Gotram moved to obey but as he lifted a limp body wrapped in chains the station rang with echoing hisses. Feral, angry hisses born from alien throats not so far away. Gotram recognised that noise and cried, "A Purestrain!"

The Eldar barked, "Your ears are blunt, that is many, many Purestrains."

"How many?" Vevara snapped.

"Too many to fight," the Eldar replied grimly.

"Warp hells," Jediah cursed, "Hurry, grab the weaklings and run. We've got what we came for, now we have to get out again!"