Volleys of las shots and missiles sprang from the corvette, hitting the void shields of the massive command tomb-ship either to explode hundreds of meters above the hull of the vessel or bounce off completely and travel into the cold dim void.
Alnabil sighed quietly, as she sat her forehead upon the back of her folded hands a floating Necron came into view. He sat on top of a hoverchair, his legs long since turned into cables used to funnel reactor fluid into the repulser platform used to keep the chair afloat. His one ocular fixed on the Phaerakh as sounds of explosions sounded far above the ship. The chair moved over next to the dynastic ruler, the repulser and tesla orb on the head of the chair glowing a bright vibrant blue.
"Suggestion to Alnabil: Open fire upon the human ship." The necron, a Cryptek of the Plasmancer order said abruptly in a cold, logical voice. Alnabil turned her head towards the Cryptek, annoyed at his lack of respect towards her after he called her by her first name instead of her title. However, since Crypteks act in the ancient codes as independent agents, not agents to anyone dynasty, tradition dictated that he address her as an equal, no matter the amount of power imbalance between the two. However, this wasn't the only thing that annoyed her about this Cryptek's presence, he had the gall to enter her bridge without alerting her of his presence and even worse, attempt to get her to abide by his own will.
"Cryptek Razima, your insolence on this occasion will not be tolerated. This is not a matter you should involve yourself in." Alnabil sat her head back up, her eyes faced towards the master of the arcane. The Plasmancer just stared blankly into the eyes of the Phaerakh, showing no emotion or care, for there was nothing left of his personality aside from his logic and his unyielding thirst for knowledge, an unfortunate side effect brought upon him by the fires of bio-transference.
"Without intervention, the probability of quantum shielding failure will increase by 50% after approximately 10 more minutes of sustained impact." The Cryptek said, his voice cold and robotic even by Necron standards.
"Do you think I don't know how my own ship works, Razima?" The Phaerakh chuckled slightly in annoyance.
"Apologies if you have been offended, Alnabil. However, the threat of our vessel being damaged by the humans' weapons fire will rise exponentially with every passing minute." The Cryptek's voice rang out to the Phaerakh.
"Well, I am not going to destroy the human's ship, as I've said before, these humans are valuable to me. So, do your job and think of a way we can get them on our side without destroying the vessel. The only reason I keep you paid is because you are smarter than any other cryptek I've come across." The Phaerakh said, knowing even after the subtle insult the Cryptek would not care, for he had lost the ability to care long ago.
"Other scenarios with a high percentage of possible victory while keeping harm upon the organics down are: board the vessel, 60% chance of victory. Send forth yourself and your human servants for diplomatic resolution, 20% chance of victory. And finally, flee from engagement, 100% chance of victory." The Cryptek chimed. Alnabil sighed as she picked up her void scythe and resurrection orb. She looked to one of the warrior servants.
"Get the lychguard, and ready the Dimensional Translocation Device. We are getting aboard that ship to show these humans how foolish they are acting."
Within the cramped halls of the human vessel, a tear in spacetime opened as the Phaerakh and her squad of Lychguard stepped out, their dispersion shields gleaming with a faint orange glow and their hyperphase swords pulsing with red deathly energy. The Phaerakh held her scythe with both hands, her resurrection orb hovering to her side, repeatedly buzzing around her head like a massive insect. Silently, she transferred through wireless connection command protocols to the warriors. The commands repeated in their heads again and again. As they began walking through the cramped halls. "Attack to disarm or wound. Secure bridge. Attack to disarm or wound. Secure bridge."
As she walked behind her guard, the bridge of the ship lit up in red. The tech-priest ran over to the security panel as Arruns and Annis drew their bolt pistols, their golden plating gleaming in the red emergency lights of the bridge.
"Governor, we have a breach on level 3, we have detected space-time anomalies and what appears to be 6 figures inside the hallway 3-12." The tech-priest said, his voice distorted by the ancient and advanced augmentations used inside and on his body. As Arruns was about to speak, the commander cut him off.
"What are you waiting for, machine worshipper, call upon the guards!" Kadolvarn said, anger in her voice as she began barricading the doors to the bridge.
The tech priest soon called upon the PDF aboard the ship to meet the enemy as soon as possible, and as he did this, the soldiers of the ship threw on their tattered armor and grabbed their barely functional lasguns, knowing there would be no way they would win, but they knew they had to try anyways.
The lychguard walked in a 2 by 2 formation down the hall, their metal feet chiming on the hard plasteel flooring, as suddenly a number of human guards met them at the very end of the t-shaped hall, raising their lasguns and opening fire. Before the lychguard could raise their shields a laser hit the metal warrior in the head, caving off a chunk of the living metal. Even wounded, the lychguard still raised his shield in unison with his comrades, the damage caused by the las-shot repairing itself as the living metal of his body patched the wound up and repaired the broken circuits of the skull through arcane red energy.
"March." Alnabil sent as a command protocol to the warriors. As she did so, the lychguard marched towards the enemy, las-shots deflecting and absorbing into the black-stone of the shields. Slowly, the lychguard closed the distance with the human, forcing the PDF back as they pushed with their shields. The lychguard then began attacking the humans, using their shields as blunt weapons to incapacitate the men, throwing some against the plasteel walls of the vessel with extreme force, or smashing other's limbs. Bones audibly cracked as the blunt bottoms of shields met with arms and legs, heads smashed against hard metal walls with loud and abrupt thunks, leaving the men injured and losing consciousness on the ground.
The soldiers who saw this but managed to avoid the beating quickly ran, leaving their comrades injured bodies on the floor.
"Continue to the bridge." Alnabil transmitted. The lychguard then continued their march towards the top level of the ship, the red emergency lights of the ship reflecting off of their gleaming metal skeletons. Slowly, the lychguard and their commander made their way to the elevator at the very end of the ship's 3rd floor. Suddenly, from a corridor on the right a squad of PDF soldiers made their way behind the marching xenos.
Sensing the presence, Alnabil quickly raised her phase shift shielding system before the guards could even get past the corner. Lasgun fire then opened on the queen, shot after shot being deflected by the invisible shielding produced by the necron's advanced metal body. Before the guardsmen could even blink, the Phaerakh closed the distance between herself and the men, her scythe gripped tight with both of her hands as she swung the beast at the enemy. Like a hot knife through butter, the gleaming void scythe sliced through the weapon carrying arms of the men, severing molecular bonds as if it were nothing, but making sure to keep the likelihood of death to a minimum.
Hot warm blood spurted from the open wounds onto the Phaerakh's metallic face and arms and onto the halls of the ship. As the men screamed one man with a remaining arm attempted to draw his pistol before being struck with the bottom of the scythe's massive hilt, sending the man flying into the wall with tremendous force.
As she turned away from the men, she gave one last glance at the injured humans before walking back towards her lychguard, transmitting one final command protocol to her lychguard, to get the elevator doors open.
As the warriors jammed their hyperphase blades into the slit opening of the elevator, the door gave out loud creaks and moans, as if it was in pain due to the sheer force exerted upon it by the lychguard. With one final push, the door opened fully, revealing the elevator, the Phaerakh's way up to the top of the vessel.