With a stoic, zen-like concentration, the Sons of Dorn fired their holy bolters down the corridors at the Necrons on the other end, the floors and walls bursting into black fragments and charred debris with every stray shot. The flurry of green gauss beams was answered by the Astartes with disciplined volleys that lit up the halls and intersections between them. Even when one of their numbers was struck by the eldritch green of the Necrons, they allowed themselves only a moment of stubborn breath before resuming the fight. As long as they could still stand and hold their weapons, the Conservators focused purely on their accuracy and fire discipline, even ignoring the much smaller Tau Fire Warriors who ran past them towards the only usable ladder to the upper catwalks.
Heads down and hooves against the ground, the Fire Warriors dove into what little cover they could as they tried to reach the ladder in the middle of the firefight. All the others either didn't reach far enough or had been destroyed and the large group had few other options. They were too busy with their own concerns to mind what the Marines were doing, just hoping the "suppressive fire" they were using wouldn't hit them. With a combination of Mont'ka and Rinyon, the teams had been ordered to attempt outflanking maneuvers against key strong points of resistance. Any hope of using regular long range tactics was turning out to be an impossible daydream within the dark, twisting halls of the Necron tomb-complex with its limited open areas.
A Necron gauss beam finally found its mark, disintegrating the shoulder of a screaming Fire Warrior before part of his face met a similar fate. The Shas'ui sergeant threw a smoke grenade towards the Necrons, deciding that the Marines can probably just deal with the smoke themselves; his own soldiers took priority and he didn't plan to just let them get picked off in a place like this. Ordering some light return fire, the Shas'ui led his team up the high ladder to the platform above, losing another two soldiers in their rapid ascent. One was bisected by a stray blast, their body slamming into another warrior on the way down, causing both to land with a sickening wet crunch.
Once everyone was finally up, they ran across the decks to the steady backdrop of battle. Shells landed at regular intervals to punctuate the steady beats of gunfire and the white noise of blurred voices on their comms. Every so often an especially loud explosion from a vehicle or ear piercing scream came over the radio, but the Fire Warriors soldiered on, stopping only to stare upon the titan Gloriana Maxima as it strode across the battlefield like a god of war above them.
The ground shook as its mighty feet stomped across the ground, crushing lone Necrons like bugs, its emotionless titan mask sending shivers up the spines of the Tau as they witnessed it scan for new targets. They were thankful they weren't fighting it. Flyers buzzed around him, spraying fire into its superstructure, puncturing its thin armor and leaving holes in it. A new pair of Valkyries roared past the titan's legs, their door gunners blasting at rooftop targets while the missile pods sent a dizzying barrage of trailing missiles to some other distant target.
Climbing over wrecks and jumping over battle damage, the team of Fire Warriors finally reached their destination. Gathering on a ledge overlooking one of a few open areas, the team saw the row upon row of dormant Necron warriors, standing still as statues among empty plinths and an elaborate runic pillar. A team of Eldar Rangers somehow found this place earlier in the battle and the Tau were the only force near enough with the ability and fire power to get there. Spreading across the walkways and ledges with their rifles and explosives ready, the Fire Warriors surrounded the slumbering legion in a killzone. "Fire!" the Shas'ui shouted as pulse fire lit up the room below before explosive charges sailed in as well. It was a one sided slaughter with the Necrons not moving at all even as they all crumbled to the ground. One by one, the Tau jumped down to the ground floor to examine their handy work and for a quick reprieve from battle.
"One minute breather! Then we move!" the Shas'ui took out a canteen like the rest of his squad, sitting next to them before letting out a long, pent up breath followed by a refreshing drink, "Okay… maybe two."
The rest of the squad chuckled as they watched their commander take another drink. Many of the followed and, saved for the sentries, even took their helmets off to wipe the sweat off their brow. Most had been fighting for a while now, having been reassigned to this from command into the larger mixed team. Some took to looking more closely at the room they were all in; a large circular chamber with four cardinal exits and at least two were blocked by debris on the ground. Looking at the Necron Warriors themselves, their bodies weren't the normal smooth, basic finish. Their necrodermis looked like silvery flowing water, the type you'd see on Damascus steel and each one had plenty of silver and bronze details. Some soldiers were so entranced by its alien beauty that they didn't even realize the hand that was arising from the pile of bodies.
"HHAAUURRGGGGH!" The rest of the squad jumped to action, just in time to see one of their comrades stagger from side to side, wide-eyed and mouth open in shock as a metal hand stabbed itself into his side. With a sick, slick shlurk, the hand pulled back, now covered in a warm red, and the body began to rise back up along with the rest of the presumed dead legion.
The Fire Warriors grabbed their guns and helmets and hastily formed a firing line as the room filled with an ominous green light. Several more had hands grasp and trash at them but only a few managed to rip into skin. The Tau watched in horror as the room of previously "dead" Necrons stirred to life, like puppets who had just been yanked up by their strings. They fired into the mass of Necrodermis, taking cover behind whatever low wall or artistic display they could. The return fire was brutal and some of the Warriors didn't get up at all, instead dragging their crippled bodies over towards the Tau.
The Shas'ui shouted for Imperial artillery support as more pulse rounds slammed into the Necrons, only for the Tau to receive gauss blasts back. The Necrons crawling on the ground were being stamped on like giant metal bugs with the most desperate among the Fire Warriors resorting to their honor blades or even using their guns as clubs less they be dragged down to the ground. In the chaos, someone has thrown a spare explosive charge into the oncoming crowd, blowing a satisfying, but brief, hole in the horde that was quickly refilled. Beyond them, even more Necrons were marching into battle from a connecting chamber. With their backs against the wall, some of the soldiers resorted to using dead bodies and corpses of both friend and foe for cover, hopelessly standing against the oncoming tide until they heard a voice from one of the hallways.
"For the Emperor!" the Seraphim Knights of the Order of the Argent Chalice shouted their battlecry as they charged in atop their mounts. With their flaming lances lowered, the sisters slammed into the Necron's flank, impaling them upon their blessed spears or cutting into them with holy blades, burning away the eldritch light in their deathless eyes. Protected by blessed barding and divine favor of the Emperor, the Sisters gave the Tau enough time to reorganize before blasting into the melee with carefully aimed shots. Metal scrapped against metal as the two teams worked together to put down the Necrons again. Some sisters were ripped from their saddles as unlucky Tau were turned into screaming ash until the ground erupted into fire and debris, sending all sides into the air as more shells began to land around in the room.
"Gue'vesa! Adjust your fire! Adjust your FUCKING fire! You're hitting us!" the Shas'ui roared into his helmet as friendly fire turned a pair of Fire Warriors into paste, "Get the guns to move up!"
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Beyond the garage door, in the network of command buildings and bunkers, a Tau operator scribbled what the Shas'ui was saying, translating them into usable firing coordinates, before thrusing it into the chest of a nearby attendant, all without looking up from the console. Requests of all sorts were pouring in from every console with the Tau and the Imperials taking up most of the space. Artillery, reinforcement, medical evac, air support, the communications room was a live with the sound of static vox casters and radio equipment. The attendant was one of many like them as they ran to deliver the message to an Imperial attendant who bumped through the running crowd to an artillery coordinator. The coordinator began to list off new firing targets but being cut short, only making it about three words before the room exploded.
"Damage control teams to Communication Room Alpha! Damage control teams to Communications Room Alpha!" the voice of a servitor blared as attendants and operators were sent flying or set alight in fire, their machines exploding from the Necron Doomscythes that had just made a pass on the base. Smoke and sparks were everywhere as gas-masked figures rushed in with fire extinguishers to put out the alien flames licking at the floor and remaining consoles.
As the Doomcythes made ready for another pass, loaders on AA guns filled their guns with rounds as haulers brought more from an ammo cache. The entire network lit up, producing a steady stream of rapid-fire thuds that blackened the sky. Gun crews were shouting at one another to try to follow or even predict which way the Necron flyers would go but they couldn't predict the strange and erratic ways the flyers were moving. They frantically reloaded magazines in between bursts, desperately clinging to their guns as the ammo cache exploded after another pass. "We can't get a lock on!" The AA commander desperately shouted over the shared communications network, "They're moving too unpredictably for our guns!"
"Leave them to us, Mon-keigh." A calm but confident voice swooped in from the Eldar's hanging city aboard a pair of Crimson Hunters, "This is Star Spinner on station, the skies are ours; watch and learn."
For a second, all those on the ground watched as red afterimages chased after black ones in the sky above, Brightlances and Gauss weapons meeting in a lightning fast dogfight. The two sides zipped and dove and spun and pushed their crafts to their limits, pulling off stunts that no Tau or Imperial pilot would dare dream of with their more primitive crafts. The Crimson Hunters chased after the Doomscythes, following them as they reentered the garage.
They flew past the titan Gloriana Maxima, who had a Monolith within its grasp, plucked from the battlefield like a brick. Firing off their green beams, the Doomscythes blasted the titan's back, causing it to let out a howl of pain and twitch, dropping the Monolith. With their superhuman senses, the Eldar watched the entire event in slow motion as they flew between the titan's legs and flailing arms, continuing to chase their prey.
"Alemas! I got a lock!" One of the pilots proudly proclaimed, tunnel visioning onto the Necron craft before him as his weapons set the Doomscythe alight causing him to let out a cheer.
"Kayrion! Watch your flying look out-" Alemas shouted at his partner just before the second Doomscythe stopped and slammed it's much thicker wing into Kayrion's fighter, ripping off the marvel of Eldar engineering and sending it tumbling towards the ground.
"By Khaine! I've lost control!" Kayrion's voice went from a confident smile to a well concealed panic as he desperate worked the remaining wing, "I can't halt it, I'm going down!"
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Roan of the 19th Sallot Fire Corp's assault engineer attachment watched with the rest of his unit as the Crimson Hunter was sent screaming back to Earth, barreling through walkways, bridges and scaping ragged chunks out of buildings it slamming into as the pilot was thrown about in his cockpit. When it finally hit the ground, sliding along a long wall, Roan didn't wait for any orders. All on his own, as if possessed by a greater purpose, the guardsman grabbed a tool kit off the side of the Goliath and ran, head down, towards the crashed fighter. As the rest of the unit continued to fire at the Necrons, Roan went through every tool he could to free the crashed pilot as flames began to lick at the Eldar's feet. As artillery and airstrikes began to hammered the ground, Roan resorted to simply trying to slam the cockpit open with a shovel until he was thrown off by a deafening roar.
Gloriana Maxima let out a howl of pain as hundreds of gauss weapons suddenly turned their aim towards it. Too small to be able to atomize or vaporize such a large body, the Necrons instead left a patchwork of charred, itchy black marks upon the titan. Blaring curses, the titan was too big of a target and with nowhere to run, was brought down by a thousand cuts, crashing through walls and trampling anything under its feet until it finally collapsed with a thunderous crash, crumbling to its knees.
Max snapped out of the power fantasy of being a titan as the pain shot through his body, holding back tears as he tried to rub his injured leg to smooth it, wiping away blackened ash with every swipe. He gritted his teeth as a final volley cause his arms to give way. When he tried again to get up, he saw the barrel of a Doomsday Ark pointed directly at his head and Tazmun, the Royal Warden, standing next to it, his ornate armor just barely battle damaged and his glaive shimmering in the low light.
To his side was another figure, this one more slender and even more ornately decorated. Beyond the Damascus necrodermis, the figure boasted numerous silver and marble-like ribs going from the waist down like a skeletal dress. Gold and precious gems were tastefully inlaid upon delicate silver flowers and vines that gracefully flowed into etchings. Upon its face as a perfect death mask of marble, expressive even in stillness. Max didn't know that there were Necrons so fascinated by appearances, thinking how much a nightmare it would have been to try and kitbash a figure like this, let alone what it must have taken to alter the typical Necron body into something like this.
"Honored colossus, you have fought valiantly." A commanding, high-born feminine robotic voice spoke from behind the death mask, "To the forces of such a being, lay down your arms or I shall deliver upon your colossus a swift execution."
A green-tinted image of Max prone before a Doomsday Ark suddenly filled the sky, projected from a palace-like structure behind the scene itself. Slowly, the sound of battle quieted as gunfire and explosions turned into an awkward mummering. The minis by this point were smart enough to realize that if Max were to die, their existence in his house and in this world would likely become exponentially harder.
"Now, as for you..." the royal turned to face Max as if inspecting a large statue and not a giant human who had just been throwing around warmachine like toys, "I am Izfret, Pharek of the Apakht, Lady of the Court of Everlasting Stars! And you, you shall be a most glorious centerpiece for my court!"
"A centerpiece? A centerpiece of what exactly?" Max groaned through the battle-worn titan mask that was starting to fall away.
"Of my collection of course. I fill my court with nothing but the most skilled artisans and the most impressive displays of artistic expressions or anything else I deem worthy. And you are worthy if for size alone."
"I'm going to have to reject that offer." Max blankly stared at Izfret as she made dramatic hand motions, "Besides, I doubt you have a containment field large enough for me."
"I reject your rejections. We have ways of transmuting your form to a more manageable size."
Fearing the implications of that statement, Max searched around, scouring his brain for something to get him out of this situation but all he saw was the result of battle. Burnt out vehicles, destroyed buildings, empty courtyards...
"I have a proposal!" Max looked up, figuring something out, "You said you wanted me for your collection because right now yours's is empty?"
Izfret nodded, "Yes, it would seem a number of my displays have been pilfered or lost. What is your point primitive?"
"Okay, let me explain. You are in the past, and not in the future where everyone else you've been fighting is also from. Also I am not huge, you are small. I don't know how it works but that's what the situation is like right now."
Izfret just stared blankly at Max with mild confusion. Tazmun looked around at his soldiers, remaining silent on the entire situation as his liege began to take the situation in for herself.
"What I'm saying right now is that you are small. Powerful, but small and most people in this world probably don't want you here. I am however willing to let you stay here, in my home as a base to collect and store wonders and curios from."
"Interesting preposition... and what's stopping me from just taking over this domain and adding it to my own?"
"Because you can kill me. Hell you might even be able to make it through the three other factions under my charge and have your victory. But what will you have after that? You can win and stand alone in the world with no one to stand by your court and everyone to possibly hate and destroy it."
Izfret's posture noticeably changed, no longer as fluid and in control, it changed to a more rigid one by the end of Max's sentence. Standing perfectly still, Tazmun had to walk over and rouse his lady back to awareness until Izfret looked back up at Max with an attentive gaze, no longer a dismissive one she started with.
Leaping on an opening, Max delivered his offer again, "If you promise to not fight in my house and just accept that the other races can live, I offer you my garage as a base for your court and your dynasty, a place for your art pieces."
"Mon-keigh!" Faeris angrily swooped in on a jetbike, prompting half a dozen Necrons to raise their weapons at her, "You parley with the unliving aberrants of ages past? And you offer them your own home with everyone else?!"
"If you can't tell, I sort of have a miniature death gun point at my head and I prefer my head to not have a hole in it thank you."
"Oh? Is the upstart Eldar jealous? Sick with envy?" Izfret's sullen voice suddenly turned sickeningly sweet and dripping with a smugness only matched by an anime princess, "The high and mighty Eldar are unable to grasp even the most basic and rudimentary aspects of cordial diplomacy? Even the primitive mon-keigh can! You speak with such pride but you're about as polished as rusted dust!"
"You metal wench! I will slice you into pieces and have my Warlocks send each part of your decrypt body hurling through the Warp!" Faeris raised her sword and turned her jetbike's gun to point at the Pharek.
"You will do no such thing." Tazmun stepped in front of Izfret, glaive pointed at the bike, while the other guards pointed their own weapons at the Eldar, ready to pounce on her.
Thinking quickly, Max shot his hand in between the Necrons and the Autarch, blocking line of sight, "Hey, you manage to get along with the Tau and the Humans right? Why not the same here? It's not like they are out just for murder. Hell I don't think I've seen a Destroyer or Flayed One."
"That is because we do not consort with the infected and the corrupted." Tazmun explained, "I have granted them a swift mercy myself."
"Mon-keigh, you can't really just expect them to-"
"Done! By my will and by my command, the legions of the Apakht shall no longer engage direct combat with the titan or any under his charge!" Izfret practically smiled at the Eldar's loss of words, "The Court of Everlasting Stars still knows the value of diplomacy and prefers not to just wail on anything we don't like with crude sticks and stones. Oh ho ho ho~"
Izfret's smugness was practically coating the walls at this point and Max could just feel Faeris's elf ears blowing steam. The Pharek even had her hand up by her mouth while laughing. In an indignant huff, Faeris glared at Max, piercing both of their masks with a frosty gaze, before flying off. With a wave of her hand, the Doomsday Ark backed off and Max slowly tried to get himself back up.
"Tazmun, I leave you to clean up this mess. I will be in my chambers if something worthy of my time occurs."
Izfret strode off into her palace-structure in the background, followed by a pair of Lychguards and a small herd of scarabs. Max could see the Warriors and Immortals move about, not for combat, but for cleaning duties. His face shifted between relief and worry over the deal he just verbally signed.
"Do not worry." Tazmun looked up at Max who was still trying to get on his feet, "My lady is many things, but a liar is not among them. You do not need to concern yourself about us expanding beyond these walls.
"Yeah... it's not you I'm worried about. It's everyone else."
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Over the next few days, clean up and recovery efforts were started and the atmosphere in the tom-garage was awkward to say the least. Recovery teams were still heavily armed and any patrolling Necron construct or scarab swarm was given a very, very wide berth. The command center had shifted control mostly to the Eldar who, at the behest of Faeris, became quite zealous at guarding and looking for any indication of subversion by the necrons. While the Imperials and Tau still had a presence at the new guard site, it was the Eldar who became the guardians of the garage. Their hanging city even expanded to the laundry room ceiling.
The peace with the Necrons on the other hand was fairly unpopular; a textbook example of a battle fought for nothing. Most of the soldiers didn't approve of it and more than a few officers had their own gripes. It was only a combination of thankful loyalty to Max and copious bribes of chocolate chips, online entertainment videos and a bottle of booze that max bought which was keeping anything beyond upset mutterings from occurring.
The garage itself however was in surprisingly good shape. It seems that having a workforce entirely obedient and not requiring luxuries like food, sleep or the need to follow known laws of physics and matter did wonders for production efficiency and output. Packs of scarabs filled every available space, trailing after other constructs and personnel assigned to overseeing repairs.
Careful not to crush anyone this time, Max made his way inside to see how things were going. He was still covered in bandages, band aids and smelled aloe vera burn cream but thankful that none of the gauss weapons went deeper than skin deep. Without the bodies and entrenchments (combined with actual light now coming in from both windows and the garage lights), the tomb was a lot less gloomy and sinister. If anything it reminded Max more of an outdoor art gallery with an alien twist and liberal application of black and green paint. Obelisks that were used for cover had intricate scenes carved upon them. Formerly empty plinths had various artifacts hovering in stasis above them, some not even Necron.
Navigating his way around the corners and careful not to shatter any walkways or walls, Max watched as an Imperial delegation was wrapping up a meeting with the Court of Everlasting Stars. To call it a "diplomatic mission" was a stretch as it had enough firepower to mount a sizable raid, but given how the both sides' soldiers were lined up in parade ground formations and officials were talking, it seems like it was working. The Necrons would return the body of Harrick along with his knife to the Imperials in a sign of goodwill. Max thought that if they ever turned it into an artifact or something they should name it the "Dagger of Indomitable Harrick" since it had a nice ring to it. This would also probably lead to a slightly closer bond between the Guard and the Tau on some level, both partially responsible for this mess to begin with.
Massagining his various wounds, Max watched as the deligations parted ways with the Imperials mounting back up into their transports and rumbling off back upstairs. For the past few days, the Apakht had kept to their word and no more fighting had occurred, despite the rampant paranoia of Faeris about them. Max's mind wondered how possible such a cordial existence was even possible given the setting all of these factions came from. Maybe it was the fact they were thousands of years away from the original grim and uncompromising setting that let them have a breath of fresh air and act much more calmer. Maybe he just got lucky and didn't get a bag full of the most rampant crazies.
"I must offer you my thanks, Grand Chamberlin." Tazmun appeared through a hidden teleporter on to a rooftop close to Max as he was deep in thought.
"Grand Chamberlin?" Max asked about yet another title he was given.
"You are the owner of this home are you not? You are its master and responsible for its upkeep, thus you are a chamberlain of this estate."
"Fair enough. I like to think I do my best around here."
"That you have. You may be surprised by this, but I find your insistence of peace to be admirable. While I have lived a lifetime of war, I am afraid it suits my lady not."
"A Necron not built for war?" Max questioned the small Royal Warden who watched as Izfret disappeared back into her palace.
"No, my lady is indeed built for war. But being built for something does not make you suitable for it. My lady has never taken well to martial pursuits. And the long eons of slumber have not helped. She prefers the company of exotic artifacts, engaging curios and the acquisition of artistic merit for they were her only comfort a child like her had. She was cursed to a lonely life from birth."
Max looked at Tazmun's unmoving face as he looked upon the garage-tomb. For undead metal robots, the Necrons had surprised Max with their humanity and emotion. He thanked fate that again, he didn't end up with a silent mass killer psycho dynasty in his garage.
"Grand Chamberlin, do you know why my lady refers to her court as the Court of Everlasting Stars?" Tazmun watched Max's response carefully until he just shook his head, "According to my lady, it was from a story she was told when she was a child, one of the rare times she was allowed guests. In the story, a girl asks to be as bright and as brilliant as the stars and to live forever. She was granted this wish and became a new star in the endless void. But as the millennium dragged on, she regretted her wish and hated her immortality. One by one, over billions of years, the stars fell silent and dark until only she remained in the eternal emptiness of stars. So great was her loneliness that she desperately wished for a friend that she could never have. So instead, she burst herself apart, scattering her body far and wide to create a new universe, one with millions of stars for her to look for a friend amongst. Ultimately, she moved on even after realizing the consequences of her wish. To be stuck in the past is a most dreadful thing; there is no dawn without a setting sky."
"I got to say, I wasn't expecting such a story from an immortal mechanical robot. I'm surprised that a children's story would have existential dread as a concept though. Why are you even telling me all of this?"
"Necrontyr culture is... different from your own. As for my reasoning, it is because my lady wished for it and her word is my command. A personal insight as thanks for our stay here." Tazmun began to walk back toward the portal that brought him to the rooftop, "And because I can tell, your spirit is good. You may not feel it, but your contributions to everyone under your charge is a feat most impressive. Don't you forget it."
Max silently smiled as Tazmun was zapped away and he began to head back into his house. He still had his own chores to do and no doubt food would do him good, the other armies would also probably appreciate some food. It was nice hearing thanks from someone, even if they had a body count that rivalled entire military battalions armed with near-magical weaponry. The sheer absurdity of it all finally started to sink into Max again. Here he was as pseudo-overlord of several of the most formidable fighting forces of the 41st millennium who have seen horrors beyond his imagination and hell beyond what was possible on Earth. And he was wondering about what to cook all of them for breakfast. What a world he lived in.
A/N: Hi, its been a long while hasn't it? Things have been happening in my life that took me away from this story for a while but I've managed to finally get this done. The first part describing the battle is something that I spent a great deal of time writing and rewriting and rethinking because of the style I wanted to go for, a sort of "flowing POV", the type you'd see in long take action movies with multiple characters and is something that feedback on would be greatly appreciated. I'm thinking one more (hopefully) shorter bit to wrap this all up before moving on to the next arc. Just in case you're wondering, no, not every race/faction that is appearing in this story will be met or solved with diplomacy; I'm mostly taking advantage of the fact that Necrons aren't all just Egyptian space terminators anymore in their lore.
Thank you to everyone whose read, favorited and especially reviewed this story even when I haven't updated this in a bit. Hopefully it'll come out quicker than this one has lol.