Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 95
Something was hunting them, Glord was sure of it. His party was being stalked by something they could not see but it was definitely there. He clutched his Fang tightly as he scoured the walls, trying to detect whatever was trailing them but there was nothing to be seen. Yet the feeling lingered, a cold sensation running down the back of his neck.
Glord was in a sorry state, covered in gashes and clotted blood. Thick crusts of Larraman Cells coated his arms, legs, neck and face. The rest of the squad looked hardly any better, each of them rent by a score of minor injuries. They had been fighting through the Peregrine for what seemed like hours, though in the compressed time of combat may only have been minutes. They had encountered wave after wave of Necrons, meeting them blade to blade each time and driving them back but each encounter cost them in blood. By all accounts they were doing well not to have lost a Brother but Glord had the nagging sense that the Necrons weren't really trying. They never sent more than ten at a time against the squad and the Astartes was starting to feel like this assault was nothing more than testing the defences. If the Necrons wanted to they could have filled this ship end to end with silver automatons.
Reddam held his spear in both hands and hissed, "Stay alert."
Glord was glad the Sergeant sensed it too and growled, "I can't see it, but it's there. I know it."
"Can't see nothin' you're jumping at shadows," that was Schwift who somehow was still alive. The weasley mortal seemed to have a knack for keeping out of the fighting, always conveniently absent when the blood was flowing. Glord didn't know what he was doing tagging along with them but then there was little he could do in a fight so he may as well hang back and hide.
Larus snapped, "You shut up, you're no good in a fight."
Schwift snorted, "You lads ain't paying me so I ain't gonna die for you."
"Coward!" Joffel spat in disgust.
But Reddam hissed, "Silence, there's something out there."
Glord scoured the environment, looking for danger. The squad had made their way aft and were now in amongst the towering plasma converters and thermal regulators that comprised the main drives. The Blockade runner was half engine and the ice-encrusted devices soared ten stories high, connected by countless pipes and cables that drooped low. Gridded walkways ran around the circumference of blocks of machinery and drifting servo-skulls continued their endless circling, squawking binaric praises to the Machine Spirits on a loop. The entire place crackled with power, mighty energies bound and harnessed to the service of mankind but only barely. It felt like one misplaced shot would detonate the whole place, blowing the entire ship to atoms.
Glord clutched his Fang and longed for his Heavy Bolter as he scoured shadows under walkways and confined areas between towering devices. A bead of sweat ran down the back of his neck but his eye was steady as he searched for his quarry. Then he saw it. Standing between two heavy pipes was a lurking shadow, too still and gaunt to be anything other than a Necron. It had a single eye that glowed greenly and a long rifle in its hands that oozed menace. There was something off about it, a sense that the darkness around it was more than a shadow. A gloomy aura clung to its form, obscuring its presence and making it hard to see clearly, like it was half in realspace and half in some other unknown dimension.
"There!" Glord shouted as he leapt into a run.
"Kill it!" Joffel roared as the Necron began to bring its gun to bear.
Glord pushed himself to the limit, seeking to close before it could shoot. The pipes surrounded the squad as they rushed headlong at the foe, passing between the thick metal conduits into the narrow space. Ten steps remained and Glord saw the Necron bringing the weapon to point at Reddam's head. Some form of strange green light shimmered in the exposed capacitors and chambers of the rifle, preparing to end the Sergeant's life in one shot. Glord knew whatever it did the rifle would prove supremely lethal, yet the Necron's movements were slow and the Space Marines moved with Transhuman swiftness. He realised they would reach it before it had acquired a target. And that was when two more Necrons phased through the walls.
Glord gasped as silver heads and shoulders emerged from solid metal, grasping talons reaching out for them. Their faces were blank and unmoving, merciless in their disdain and their legs were absent, replaced by a long segmented tail like an elongated spinal cord. They shimmered like water as they phased through matter, then suddenly hardened into solidity as their razor talons lashed out.
Kazao ducked with Transhuman speed, dodging the strike of one but Tebes moved too slow and a pair of claws sheared through his shoulder, spraying blood far and wide. Glord felt splatters hitting his face but he wasted not a moment to stab for the nearest Necron. Yet the undying fiend was already shimmering and Glord was astonished to see his hand pass straight through the foe. He nearly overbalanced as his momentum pulled him into a stagger and the Necron dove back into the pipe, disappearing completely.
"How did they do that?!" Joffel yelled.
Schwift's head was darting back and forth as he cried, "They're like some form of wraith!"
Reddam was facing down the narrow space as he snarled, "Where's the first one gone?!"
It was true, the shadowy assassin had vanished, leaving the squad boxed in. Glord realised they were trapped, the pipes were too confining and the squad had no room to manoeuvre. The Wraiths could come from anywhere and they would not be seen until it was too late. He shouted, "We're boxed in here!"
Reddam concurred, "Withdraw into the open and someone carry Tebes."
The squad retreated and Glord stooped to grab the groaning Astartes under his good arm. Glord heaved him up and practically carried his Brother along. Tebes was hurt badly, blood gushing from a vicious rent in his shoulder and his grip on his pick was limp. His genhanced organs were already working to knit him back together but that would take precious minutes, for the time being Tebes was out of this fight.
Glord snapped, "Could we not go one single, bloody mission without you getting injured?!"
"Uuuuuuurgh," was all Tebes managed to murmur as they stumbled along.
Suddenly the pipes before them shimmered and a Wraith reappeared. Joffel leapt at them, bonesword swinging but it passed through the first without slowing, the Wraith insubstantial as a dream. It ghosted past him and then suddenly hardened into reality and struck Larus with a lashing blow to the gut. Then it shimmered back into intangibility and dove into the floor.
Larus snarled in agony as his hands went to a vicious gash in his belly armour, intestines disturbingly visible in the rent. Even for an Astartes that was a debilitating wound, forget healing implants he would need an Apothecarion to make good his injuries. The squad was two marines down and they hadn't touched the enemy, the Necrons were picking them off one by one.
Reddam grabbed Larus and forced him to stumble along as he yelled, "Get clear, get into the open!"
Glord raced forward shouting, "Where are they?!"
They emerged into a clear spot and moved a dozen steps from the walls. Here they dumped Larus and Tebes on the floor and formed a circle, weapons pointed outwards and watching the walls for the first sign of movement. Glord felt the aura of tension building, a lurking sense of anticipation firing his physiology to the extreme. A mortal would have called this fear but to an Astartes it was merely motivation, sharpening their reflexes and firing their muscles to the most extreme edge of possibility.
Suddenly the wall shimmered and the two wraiths appeared, floating towards them with their talons sheathed in blood. Schwift put a lasbolt into one but it passed through without harm, singeing the wall beyond and leaving the wraith unharmed. Glord tensed to attack but Reddam shouted, "No wait! hold… hold… now!"
The Sergeant had timed it to perfection, while phased the wraiths were invulnerable but impotent. In order to strike they had to enter reality, becoming tangible for a split second and in that single moment they were vulnerable. Just as they hardened into being the Astartes struck, Glord's knife stabbing into a chest while Joffel's bonesword struck the neck and cleaved through. Meanwhile Kazao's fist clanged off a shoulder but Reddam's spear smashed through a head, bursting out of the back of the metal skull.
The Wraiths froze in midair, utterly still for a moment. Then they shimmered like disturbed water and vanished, phasing out for good. Glord sagged as he saw the Necrons disappear and knew they had bought a reprieve but their respite was short-lived.
A sudden scream split the air and all heads turned to see a gaggle of chattels beset by a monstrous foe, one completely unlike the Necrons they had seen so far. It was taller than average and moved far faster, as fast as an Astartes. It had a single eye set in its forehead and shimmering cloaks of blackness flowed around it. Four arms struck out at the crowd of fleeing chattels, one of them swinging a whip that glowed bluely and left streaks of light in the air. Glord saw one of the chattels struck by that whip and the man broke up, split head to groin by a perfect incision that left two parts standing for a moment until they fell in opposite directions, revealing internal organs like an anatomical drawing.
"Kazao, grenade it!" Reddam shouted.
"But the chattels," Kazao protested.
"They're dead already," Reddam snarled, "Shoot it!"
Glord froze as Kazao obeyed, levelling his weapon and firing a fat round with a noise of 'phoot'. The grenade spun through the air, closing on the melee in a graceful arc, then it detonated. Furnace hot shrapnel blew outwards, scything into human flesh and undying metal. The Chattels died in the explosion, killed by their own masters and the Necron stumbled, its frame penetrated by many shards of burning debris.
"Finish it!" Reddam yelled as he leapt into a charge.
The Necron however saw them coming, its wounds closed in a heartbeat then it drew itself up and cried, "Yes come to me, let Ashtari see what you are made of!"
It could speak, Glord realised in shock, this one could speak. The knowledge that they were facing the most dangerous kind of enemy ran through him but he did not let that slow his run, nor the speed of his knife. He tackled the Necron around the waist and buried his dagger in its spine. Meanwhile Joffel sliced his bonesword across its chest, leaving a deep furrow. Kazao reversed his grip on his grenade launcher and smashed the handle against a metal skull while Reddam buried his spear into a hip, the crackling tip penetrating deeply.
The Necron was beset on all sides, yet it did not fall. It merely made a clicking noise and suddenly its cloak exploded outwards, engulfing them in darkness. Glord felt a million stinging bites rip at him, eating him alive. They were automatons, he realised, the cloak had been made up of billions of microscopic robots and now they covered him head to toe. The pain was indescribable, he was being eaten alive, tiny mandibles ripping the skin from his bones with countless snapping bites.
If he stayed here he would die so he did the only thing he could. He threw himself backwards, out of the swirling cloud and hit the ground hard. He desperately rolled over and over, crushing robots under his weight with each turn, desperately trying to kill them before they ate him alive. His desperate move saved his life but he was left groaning and bleeding on the floor, wracked with agony and too weak to stand.
He beat at his own flesh, crushing those robots his roll had missed then looked up with bleeding eyes and saw what had become of his squadmates. Reddam and Joffel had replicated his move and lay groaning upon the floor, but Kazao had not escaped. The Aberrant Brother was being held aloft by the Necron, one metal hand clamped about his throat and another ripping away the material of his scout-armour over his arm. Thick cloth fell away to reveal his scaled flesh and the Necron paused. One of its four hands rose and clamped about his Stormtrooper helmet then cracked it open like a man would a nut. Shattered pieces fell away, revealing scaly flesh, fangs and burning red eyes. Kazao beat at the arm holding him aloft and kicked at the air but the Necron was unmoved and hissed, "Fascinating."
"Kazao!" Reddam cried as he tried to stand up.
Yet the Necron didn't deign to look at them as it stated, "We're done here. Slave, disable them."
Confusion rang through Glord but then he spied the silhouette of Schwift looming over them. The man was grinning at the sight of the Astartes on the floor and his laspistols were held ready. Shocking revelations ran through Glord but before he could open his mouth to yell an alert Schwift fired, putting a lasbolt into his thigh.
Again and again Schwift fired, crippling Reddam, Joffel and Glord then he chuckled, "Sorry lads, boss don't want you dead... yet. Still, can't have you following us."
Glord's legs burned with las-fire injuries and he yelled in disbelief, "Traitor!"
But Schwift merely chuckled, "Can't be a Traitor if I was never loyal to you. Me and the skeletons have a prior arrangement, they have me steer schmucks like you into the Carnodon's den and in return I get something more precious than Adamantium or jewels."
The Necron interrupted his boasting to bark, "Cease your prattle. We are leaving."
Schwift skipped away and placed a hand on the Necron as he cackled, "Bye lads, you were the sweetest marks I've seen in a long time."
Then the trio shimmered like water as space folded around them. The Traitor, the Necron and Kazao vanished, disappearing without a trace. Glord watched in disbelief as the scene emptied, leaving behind groaning and bleeding Astartes on the floor. He felt his body burning head to toe, agony clawing at his nerve endings like he was on fire. Yet despite it all, the worst pain was the knowledge that his Brother had been snatched away and was the prisoner of the Necrons. Filled with anguish Glord could only gasp, "Kazao… no."