Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 235
The Jathyr closed with a trilling roar, closing in a massive wave of blue. Kerubim could see no avenue of escape, no way to avoid being swamped. The Jathyr had them surrounded and boasted numbers beyond counting. Their Fractal blades promised swift death and alien visages betrayed no hint of mercy. Kerubim knew this fight would be short and could only end in one possible outcome. Yet his comrades had other ideas.
"For the Hold!" Wulfe cried as he swung his Gravity hammer in a massive overhead sweep. He struck the ground at their feet and the energy discharge pulverised glass-snow into fine powder. Violent forces shook Kerubim's legs but also caused a massive plume of white particles to erupt, an instant blizzard engulfing the trio and whiting out the universe. Kerubim's autosenses went crazy as they tried to penetrate the white hash that swirled everywhere, returning only Binaric error runes. He was blind and yet he heard Brontes' Fission-blasters discharging repeatedly, staining the fog red.
"Move ye arses!" Wulfe howled over the vox.
"I can't see!" Kerubim snapped.
"Go uphill, it's the only direction we have," Brontes snarled.
"How can you see a target?!"
"I can't, but anything I hit that isn't us is an enemy!"
Kerubim forced his legs to move and stumbled uphill. He couldn't see a thing but drove his feet anyway, staggering over smoking corpses as he felt his way along. Trilling screams were everywhere but it seemed the Jathyr were as blind as the trio, unable to find their way in the distorting blizzard. Suddenly Kerubim burst out of the cloud into weak daylight. His plate was covered in a fine white-blue powder but he had no time to clean it off. Ahead a few Jathyr milled, seemingly lost and confused, but behind he heard a trilling roar as the greater mass downhill spotted them.
"Run!" Kerubim bellowed as he blasted a stray Jathyr into glowing motes.
"We cannae outrun them!" Wulfe snarled as he charged uphill.
"I don't have to outrun them, I only have to outrun you," Brontes snarled back as he stormed along.
"Just reach the shuttles," Kerubim spat, "It's our only chance."
Ahead the summit promised safety but the thunder of rising engines told the Skitarii were already leaving the planet. Kerubim doubled his pace, trying to reach the shuttles before they lifted off. Yet a swift Grav-skimmer slewed across their path, spilling crystal-blue warriors to bar the escape. Brontes cut the sled in two with a crackling shot and Wulfe compacted a Jathyr with a volley of grav, but the rest pressed on. Kerubim had time to vaporise one of the Xenos with a swift shot but then they struck.
Brontes roared as a dozen Jathyr leapt at him. His fists clubbed one down but the rest piled in, scrabbling at his legs. Wulfe found himself confronted by a trio, their glittering Fractal-blades darting like greased lightning. Kerubim however had no time to watch for he was beset any another pair. They were on him before he could fire again and crashed into him, knocking his aim off. He swung the butt of his rifle about and smashed one of them away but the other darted in, sinking a blade into the joint of his hip.
Kerubim snarled in pain as he shoved it back. His armour bleated warnings in his ear but with a moment's clearance he slammed the rifle to his side and drew his shock-stave. The sparking tip flared brilliantly as he drove it into the Jathyr's face, discharging an electro-static flash of energy. To his surprise it did nothing, the crystal facets of the Jathyr's hide redistributing energy like oil over water, doing no damage at all. In return its Fractal-blade swept about and cleaved the Shock-stave in two, leaving Kerubim gripping a useless shaft.
"Glitching piece of crap!" Kerubim spat as he threw the broken weapon aside and braced to receive the charge. The Jathyr crashed into him, grappling at his plate and scoring its blade over his back. Kerubim however linked his hands together and brought them down hard on its spine. The Jathyr reeled under the blow, sinking to its knees. Whatever alien resistance it boasted was no match for Transhuman strength and Kerubim clubbed it down with sheer brute force. Instantly he grabbed the two antlers sticking out of its head and yanked clockwise, rotating the skull completely about. Whatever it used as a spinal column shattered with a series of popping cracks and the Jathyr fell limp at his feet.
His triumph was brief as the first came back, leaping at him with a trilling shriek. Kerubim saw the Fractal-blade sweeping in and knew retreat meant death, so he stepped into the charge, ramming his pauldron into its face. The Jathyr was smashed back, falling to its rear with stunned dismay, the sense knocked out of it. Kerubim didn't give it time to recover, kicking it back then bringing his boot down hard on the prone skull. The crystal dome of a face imploded, spraying bluish vital fluids up his greave as its life ended in a messy puddle.
"Would that we could do the same to all your disgusting species," Kerubim hissed as he stepped back and looked up, only to find that while he had been distracted they had been overrun. The leading edge of the vast horde had caught up, and now Jathyr swamped over them. Everywhere blue forms surged, fractal blades glinting with lethal intent. Jathyr were swarming up Brontes' form, clinging to his back and shoulders like burrs. They levered sharp blades into the joins of his armour plates, gouging at quantum circuitry beneath. The Cadmus flailed wildly, thrashing his arms about as he stomped and shook. He crushed many with his metal feet and ripped them from his body but for every one he caught three more would swarm up his limbs and add to his distress. Wulfe for his part was swinging the Gravity Hammer in wide sweeps, compacting two or three Xenos with every swipe but they rushed him from behind and the Squat went down in a pile of blue crystal, his last words, "Gerritoff ye scunners!"
Kerubim moved to intervene but before he could take a single step he too was mobbed. A scrum of Jathyr pounced, grappling at arms and legs as they bowled him over. He tried to kick and punch a way out but there was an alien on every limb, bearing down as more piled on, adding their weight. Even a Space Marine could not fight so many at once, and he felt his rifle stripped from his body as fractal points scored over his plate.
"Get off!" he roared, "Get off me filthy Xenos!" but it was useless. He was done for, he knew it was true, this was his final moment. He was pinned, unable to fight and there was no one to come to his aid. In moments the Jathyr would find the vital joints in his armour and sink their knives deep. He would die impaled on a score of Fractal-blades, unable to take a foe with him, unable to even spit a last defiant cry. He stared death in the face and knew this was an unworthy end at too short a life, the mysteries of the Omnissiah would forever lie beyond his reach. Kerubim would only know ignominy and ignorance, a fact worse than dying. Then everything changed.
Suddenly a deep rumble reached his ears, not Xenos, not natural either. A moment later the pile atop him juddered and shook, as the Jathyr let loose thin screams. Something wet sloshed over his armour, cold and slimy, coating his plate and helm. The world went dark but he felt the motion atop him growing still and the blades against his armour stop.
Kerubim braced and heaved upwards, shoving bodies off him. Space Marine strength let him clear the weight and he emerged, frantically wiping his eyes clear of Xenos blood. His vision came back and he beheld a miracle. Overhead a flight of dark shapes moved, blasting vector thrust as they hovered in mid-air. Shuttlecraft, five of them, sailing over the horde of Xenos and mowing them down with Heavy Bolter fire. Weapon emplacements along the flanks spat furious volleys from Servitor-controlled guns, while the rear doors hung open so crewmen could hang out and let rip with autoguns. They may not be Thunderhawks but Kerubim had never seen so wondrous a sight and let slip a cry of relief as the shuttles circled about, mowing down Jathyr in broad sweeps.
A sixth shuttle came in with landing skids extended and the rear door opened to reveal Ruuka and Jordig, the pair firing continuously with their legs braced wide. Kerubim saw them picking off Jathyr the first sweep had missed. He dove into the piled bodies at his feet, muttering curses as he shoved corpses over. Finally he found his rifle and grabbed the blessed weapon, bracing it to his shoulder as he began reducing stray Xenos to glowing afterimages.
"Forget that!" Jordig roared over the booming of his bolt rifle, "Get on board now!"
"The Xenos aren't dead yet!" Kerubim snapped.
But Ruuka snarled, "We will be if you don't move it, we've pushed them back but they're rallying already. If we aren't gone in a minute we don't leave!"
"Frak!" Kerubim cursed as he looked about, "Brontes, are you dead?!"
"It'll take more than these glass-spindles to kill me!" Brontes spat as waded out from a pile of dead as tall as he was.
"Where's Wulfe?!" Kerubim hissed.
He looked about and saw a pile of dead nearby. Drunkenly he wobbled over, limbs protesting serious injuries. He ignored the pain as he heaved bodies off, finding the Squat underneath. Wulfe was unconscious, and may well be dead, but Kerubim wasn't about to leave him. He stowed his rifle and grabbed the Rotundus under the shoulders, trying to heave him out. To his amazement Kerubim couldn't move him, the squat was amazingly dense and heavy, or Kerubim was more badly wounded than he cared to admit. Either way Wulfe was going nowhere.
"Brontes, help me carry him!" Kerubim cried.
"He's dead," Brontes sniffed as he lurched by, "Leave him."
"He's alive and I won't leave him," Kerubim spat unsurely.
"Alive, pity, still don't see how it's my problem."
"If he doesn't leave, I don't!"
"Grrragh, have it your way then, but if he asks you carried him."
Brontes leaned down to wrap one giant hand around the Squat. Kerubim blinked as he saw the ruinous state of Brontes' armour up close, plates torn clean off and circuits sparking. One whole arm was hanging dead and many eye lenses were smashed but still the Cadmus hefted Wulfe aloft and stomped towards the waiting shuttle. Kerubim followed as quickly as he could, limping badly.
Jordig was still firing from the ramp as he spat in annoyance, "Anything else you'd like to do? Take some scenic pics, grab a cup of Tanna?! I've seen Jokero run faster than you lot!" Kerubim ignored the rebuke as he staggered up the ramp and threw himself onto the floor. The ramp began to close as the shuttle took off, lifting as quickly as it could. Impacts rang the sides, Interference guns pounding on the hull as the Jathyr tried to stop them fleeing, but Imperial shuttles were robust and the engines pushed them away.
Kerubim felt the deck tilt and then slid backwards as the shuttle shot away, climbing into the sky and leaving the frozen world to the Xenos. Hadreb planet belonged to the Jathyr once more, but they'd gotten out alive, a fact Kerubim gave thanks for. Air began hissing out of vents as pumps cleared toxic atmosphere from the hold. Kerubim waited a moment then ripped his helm off, breathing stale air with deep gulps. It was coarse on his throat and smelled of too many times through the recycler, but he drank it down like blessed ambrosia.
Ruuka twisted his helm off and hissed, "That was too close."
"You saved us," Kerubim breathed.
"I wasn't going to leave comrades in the lurch," Ruuka scoffed.
"Didn't stop you leaving the first time," Brontes snapped from the corner where he was leaning against the wall, sparking faintly from the rents in his armour.
Jordig replied calmly, "The data-extraction went faster than we expected. Once the starcharts were vox-relayed to our cogitators the priority was to withdraw as fast as possible."
"What of the Adepts left in the Farum?" Kerubim probed.
"Expendable," was Jordig's cold reply.
It was harsh but Kerubim knew the data was more valuable than a few adepts, than any of them. Anyone in the Mechanicus would agree. There was no point wasting tears for their losses, not when the living needed attention. He rolled to Wulfe and pulled the bucket helm free, wincing at the rents in the Squat's armour. Wulfe looked terrible, his face pale and eyes closed, but there was a faint motion to the whiskers under his nose, signs of life.
"He's breathing," Kerubim exclaimed.
"I can't get rid of the accursed hairball," Brontes muttered.
Ruuka shook his head and sighed, "We'll get him to an Apothecarion, but I've seen him shake off worse than this. I suspect he'll be up and about before you know it. In the meantime we need to get these starcharts back to Cawl and find out where he wants to send us next."
Kerubim sank back and let his implants go to work closing his wounds. The shuttle rattled and juddered as it took them back to the Tezla, where the next phase of their adventure would begin. He could only trust their next target would be less dangerous, but somehow he doubted it. He suspected the Jathyr were merely the first of the dangers they would have to face.