hey all!
I have kept my schedule as i hoped and got this chapter out in 2-3 months of the previous one. i am also taking a note from famous writer Stephen King and am seting myself a minimum of 2000 words a day, plus lots of reading and writing to keep the creativity and drive going. Though many things kept rocking up such as introducing new characters, with references towards certain notable characters of other media (Kudos if you get them), and also new plot points. This was originally going to be one long chapter but, as my drive was starting to get tired by February, I decided to split the long chapter so as to get the plot going faster.
And to those who pester me with comments to hurry the f*** up (Mostly so Alaric and Ja'anya can 'get to do the business' and I did receive an... inappropriate PM from one guest viewer), as i wrote in a previous chapter, you try writing something like this.
In fact, here's another challenge. Write me a fic involving my main characters or yours (Nothing too inappropriate or tasteless please!) and whoever does the best one may get a spot in the story. What that spot may be if yet to be determined but i think it may be a doozy.
Anyway, in this chapter, Alaric and co meet the crew of the ship and learn a few things from a bygone era with some unexpected results.
Chapter 29 – Waking the Sleepers
Given that the way was literally laid out for them, it didn't take long for Alaric and co to regroup with the others. The fact that they were mostly going down the stairs rather then up them helped a great deal. But, considering that it took them hours to get to the bridge before, it would still be a notable hike before they arrived.
And adding to some frustration into the mix, the route that the others had marked had significantly fewer stairs then the one that they took. Apart from the odd staircase, their route was virtually flat.
As they turned the last corner, they saw lamp light ahead. As they closed in, they saw Mac was waiting for them outside the bay. The Archangel, with his katana on his shoulder, waved over to them as they approached. Alaric was jogging along with Aegis on his shoulder. Kravyx was right behind him while Andrzej and the rest were a bit behind as exhaustion was starting to set in.
"Captain."Mac greeted as Andrzej and the rest arrived, seeing the flustered face of his C.O. "You look like shit." he pointed out, sheathing his sword.
Andrzej removed his helmet to wipe his brow, as did Hicks and Karl. Alaric removed his helm and he was not looking at all exhausted while Kra'vyx was only slightly so. Aegis landed on Alaric's shoulder, his plumage dulling down to its normal sheen.
"Well, we had a few detours to take on the way here." Andrzej explained, holding his helmet under an arm. "The squad are inside?"
"Hai." Mac confirmed in his native tongue.
Andrzej looked at the opened door next to Mac. Judging from the lack of frost from the space taken up when the door was shut, it suggested that the door was shut until recently.
"Was this area sealed?" he asked.
"Was." Mac answered
That was a surprise, considering Alaric was the only one who had a key in a manner speaking.
"You were able to open the door?" Hicks asked.
"There was one of those puzzle locks on the door like the one Alaric used on the outside." Mac explained, gesturing his hand like he was turning the lock. "It took some work but we managed to solve it and the door opened."
"And you didn't get zapped or anything?" Karl asked, referring how the captain's throne discouraged his attempts to interact with it.
Mac looked at the doorway in question, his brow furrowed. Clearly, getting zapped by the door was not one thing he thought off when opening it.
"Well, we made a mad dash behind a corner just in case it was booby-trapped." Mac indicated towards the corner behind him. "But, apart from the lock melding seamlessly into the door, we're still in one piece so it worked out. Why do you ask?"
Karl muttered indignantly at that stroke of fortune.
"Lets just say, Karl wasn't that lucky." Hicks explained.
Kra'vyx snickered as he remembered the look on Karl's face when he felt the throne reject him. Karl glared at the initiate, the whites of his eyes standing out from the forest on his face.
"Where are these cyro-tubes?"Andrzej asked.
"See for yourself." Mac said, walking inside.
Entering the presumed medical bay, they saw the rest of the group assembled in what would have been the locker area on a human ship. Lieutenant Dubois deftly saluted her superior as they approached. Sergei was on guard, gauss rifle poised, while Mal'fax and his fellow initiates were looking at the proposed cryo-tubes, mounted into walls and large pillars. Kra'vyx was quick to rejoin them and tell what he had learned.
These were in fact cryo-tubes of an unfamiliar design. While they did share a vague visual appearance as human cryo-pods, the design was entirely alien. They looked almost like a tree of carved stone and metal inlay then a pod. The pod itself was the trunk, a canopy of intricate alternating plating and revetting formed the branches and canopy and a series of intricately carved steps formed the roots. At head level, there was a panel of frosted glass, two feet long and a foot wide and arranged in a kite shape pointing down.
Given that there were at best guess at least fifty cryo-tubes in this chamber alone, it was almost like this area was more akin to a petrified forest then a place of medicine.
And another thing that occupied this room, standing in the corner opposite the doorway in a decorated plinth, was a large statue of stone,some kind of dark grey granite with metal plating. This statue was large, standing at eight feet tall and had shoulders a meter wide. The statue, as Alaric identified looked like one of the dwarf warriors that he saw in Gri'nyr's memory. Large pauldrons that made the head look like it was in it's chest. However, the hands were massive, more like a power loaders claws. The feet were as large as a power loader's too. And in the centre of the statues cuirass, where the sternum would be, there was a reflective gemstone not unlike a pale blue diamond.
"Captain." Sarah greeted.
Andrzej looked at the pods with a tilted head.
"I see what you meant by 'loosely'." Andrzej said to Sarah, seeing the tubes for himself.
"When we first looked at them, we thought that this was some artificial forest."Sarah explained, walking up to one of the pods. "That was until we noticed they had windows." she added, pointing to the glass panel.
Andrzej looked at the other pods in thought.
"You said that they were occupied." he reminded. "Is there any way of determining who or what the occupants are?"
Sarah rubbed the glass panel of frost and she peered inside the dark pod. She did the same on more of the pods. While the outside had a layer of frost, as was normal with cryo-pods, the interior was dark and cloudy. But if she focused her eyes, she could could make out bipedal figures within.
Small bipedal figures.
"There's a lot of small figures inside these pods, enshrouded by what looks like a system of tubes." she said, turning to the captain. "Children?"
Sergei walked up to a pod and rapped the axe-bayonet of the gauss rifle on the side with audible clicking of metal against stone.
"Maybe, but what I want to know is how is all this still running?" Sergei pointed out.
The sniper had a valid point. Despite everything looking completely inert, there had to be some kind of auxiliary power system that was keeping these pods operational, that cargo elevator running and for some of these doors to be activated. It would appear that certain essential systems were designed to remain operational by their own power source in a stand-by function until the time came to reactivate them.
"This place obviously has an auxiliary power system." Mac theorised. "I'm thinking it has to be either a geothermal or nuclear power system to last on a planet like this."
"First one unlikely, but the second is on the dot." Hicks clarified.
The squad turned to him.
"What do you mean 'On the dot'?" Sergei asked.
Alaric stepped forward.
"We found something very important." he explained. "You better brace yourselves."
The squad gathered together, ready to hear what Alaric and his group had found.
"What did you find on your end?" Sarah asked.
Andrzej sat down on what looked undeniably like a stone bench. He placed his helmet on his lap.
"Well, after the hawk led us on a long and absurdly stair-infested trip, we came across what we believe to be the bridge." he revealed.
The three archangels looked to .
"A bridge?" Sergei asked before his eyes widened. "As in a ship's bridge?"
"Complete with a helm and a captain's chair." Karl added before he grimaced. "I should know."
That was one of the best strokes of luck they have had yet. Not going to the colony's hanger turned out to be not for nothing after all. However, that led to another hurdle and this room held the answer to that.
The medic looked to the pods.
"So what we have here could very well possibly be the crew?" Sarah postulated. "Or what's left of them."
"Which is what we were thinking when you voxxed us." Andrzej added. "seeing how we can;t operate it, our best bet is that the crew will be... friendly."
Sergei looked at the pods with a concerned, maybe anxious, eye.
"You honestly think they'll even be a crew in there?" he asked apprehensively before turning back to the squad. "You remember the last time we had to salvage old cryo-pods."
The Archangels lowered their heads as they remembered that grisly discovery from one previous mission.
Cryosleep, or Stasis for the scientific term, is not without its dangers. Although the individual is effectively shielded from time itself, with all bodily functions drastically slowed, there are detrimental effects from long term usage. Muscles atrophying and cases of nausea and exhaustion are common place, the severity depending on the amount of time the subject was in stasis for. Being abruptly woken up without proper wake-up procedures is hazardous, leading to respiratory and circulatory complications in later life that, while not usually fatal, can take days or weeks to manifest. In the worst cases, as one documented case showed, the occupant was virtually mummified alive.
That particular incident the Archangels recalled involved finding a cryo-pod whose occupant, mercifully deceased, literally fell apart when the pod was opened. Sergei had binged on vodka, and nursed a doozy of a hangover, back at base in an attempt to purge that moment from his memory.
The longest cryosleep on record, and survived, was fifty-seven years, from 2122 to 2179, held a flight warrant officer by the name of Ellen Ripley.
"Regardless, the current situation dictates that we need to find a way of getting this ship operational." Andrzej decided. "And if they are the crew then we need to wake them. Any idea how to open them?"
"Therein resides a problem." Sergei interjected, gesturing to the pod he was next to. "As you can see, there is no interface of any sort of these pods." he indicated. "And there is no other means of opening these pods that we have yet found."
Sergei spoke the truth. There was no notable control panel used for activating the pod as there were in human cryo-pods. It indicated that there had to be a central control console for these pods.
"Not even a central console?" Andrzej asked.
"Well, that's what we assume this to be." Sarah pointed out, tapping the metal and stone plinth he was next to.
This console, located at the end of the rows of cryo-pods, certainly fit the bill of being the main controls. There was an array of buttons, dials and levers that looked like they hinted towards operating cryo-pods.
"But, as you can see, it's completely inert." she emphasised, tapping the buttons with a distinct stony rapping. "No power supplying it."
Andrzej turned to Alaric.
"Alaric, since you opened up the ship, you think you can open these pods?" Andrzej asked.
Alaric detached his shield and placed it on the bench along with his helmet. Holstering his spear behind his waist, he approached the nearest pod.
"Lets see." Alaric mulled as Aegis shifted on his shoulder. "There should be a clue somewhere."
Alaric looked at the front of the pod, searching for any lock or print that would serve as a release mechanism. Remembering Gri'nyr's sarcophagus, Alaric examined the pod from multiple angles. When he held his hand to the window, his gauntlet glowed and glowing lines, like a holographic interface, appeared on the glass surface. Runes and glyphs flared into life as Alaric drew his fingers over them. At the same time, streams of light started to circle around his hand.
"I think that answers the question." Alaric said, looking at the runic display. "Must only activate to someone wearing wearing this armour."
"These runes are different from the interface on the bridge." Karl pointed out.
Alaric looked to him.
"Are you sure?" He asked, masking the truth. "These look very familiar to me."
The runes projected were the same as the ones in his tome, no doubt formed when his armour interfaced with the pod's systems. And considering that no one but him was taught how to read these runes, Alaric had an edge.
After getting a feel for the interface, he was then able to initiate the revival process. Standard training in the Corps. When he finished, the interface flashed out in sequence and the decoration on the pod glowed. The streams round his hand flashed and flowed into the pod window. Shimmering streams of light surged up the pod, from the roots and up the pod to the canopy like a tree gathering nutrients from the soil. The light streams pulsed before they surged into the window, making the panel shimmer into light. And when the light faded, the sound of a vacuum seal releasing filled the air.
"That was fast." Hicks said, looking at his chronometer readout on his helmet's HUD.
It took less then thirty seconds for the pod to open. Normally, in the case of prolonged cryosleep, the procedure would take a couple of minutes to ensure that no damage was done to the occupant from a sudden revival.
Alaric stepped out to the side as everyone gathered around.
The pod opened up with a smooth slide of metal with cracking of frost, the door breaking apart with the rapid clicking and shifting of metal in the same way the ship hatch opened, splitting in half horizontally before those halves split again and the resulting quarters shifted to the corners of the pod. A thick and surprisingly warm mist that had filled the pod and obscured their view slowly started to dissipate.
There was apprehension in everyone's mind. Would they find a perfectly healthy and intact person or would they find a frozen mummified corpse?
Considering how long this ship had been in the ice, at least a thousand years as Hicks estimated, they were bracing themselves for the latter. Sergei had a hand up to his eyes just in case the occupant decided to rapidly decompose.
When the mist cleared, everyone, except for Alaric, was in surprise from what they saw.
Laying at a seventy degree angle was a squat humanoid figure in what looked like a padded bodysuit of some design. Its height was just over five feet, was broad and muscular in stature with large hands and feet and it face was covered in a large auburn beard and a braided moustache that reached to its waist over a rotund gut.
Hardly a child at all.
The humanoid was enveloped in what looked like a system of faintly glowing tree-roots grafted to the suit in patterns that mimicked the nervous system and trailing from the pod's interior walls. The glowing was streaming towards the humanoid in pulses, like a placenta pumping blood and nutrients to a growing foetus.
Suffice to say, reactions were mixed.
"Okay, that is one old child." Sergei said in a mixture of relief and surprise, lowering his hand. "I'll will posit and say this is not a child at all."
"I have never seen a... man like this before." Sarah said, stunned by what she was seeing. "Not this broad in comparison to height."
"Look at the size of the beard!" Hicks exclaimed, turning to Karl. "Its bigger then yours!"
Karl was silent for some reason.
The humanoid eyes opened, revealing penetrating steel grey eyes. This made everyone back off a step or two. He blinked several times before giving off a long yawn and showing off white teeth, of which one of the incisors was inlaid with gold runic patterns.
"Its alive?" Andrzej said.
Kra'vyx and his friends were equally surprised. Never in their lives have they ever seen a humanoid like this. They had seen skulls of many a race that hunters had brought back home and seen mask footage of those races in action but this, they had to be the first witnesses.
The humanoid grumbled as he heaved himself out of the pod, shaking its head of sleepiness and rubbing his eyes. The roots on his suit detached with notable plucking before they retracted into the pod. He then bent over, hands on knees and coughing heartily as his beard drooped down.
Evidently, he was under a bout of hibernation sickness.
"Kind of like you, first thing in the morning." Sergei joked to Karl.
Karl was still silent.
The humanoid looked up at everyone watching him and said something in a disgruntled manner waving his hand at them to give him some space. No one had any idea what he was saying, a mixture of guttural sounds and syllables. But,to Karl, the humanoid's speech had a distinctive Nordic and Germanic ring to it. His eyes widened as he heard it.
"Karl, you alright?" Hicks asked, when he noticed Karl's stupor.
The humanoid, rolling his eyes, coughed in his large hand and muttered in disgust as he wiped his hand on a leg before speaking again.
"I said: What's the matter?" the short bearded humanoid asked in a gravelly voice in perfect English. "You humans never seen a dwarf before?"
That hit the nail on the head.
"I've just fulfilled a fantasy I've had since childhood." Karl finally answered. "An actual Dwarf!"
The dwarf scratched his beard at Karl's accomplishment.
"Yes I'm a dwarf. What of it?" he asked, like everyone had gone daft.
"And it speaks English." Sergei added. "Who would've thought?"
The dwarf's brow furrowed at the implication.
"English?" the dwarf said in puzzlement. "I'm speaking Angloek, no Eng or Lish in it."
Hicks cupped his chin at the dwarf's declaration. He toyed with the word 'Angloek' several times before he made a historical connection.
"Anglo-Saxon." Hicks said, in realisation. "West german dialect that is precursor to the modern English language."
The dwarf shrugged at his answer. Either he didn't know what Hicks was talking about or he just didn't care as long as they could understand one another.
"In that case, by an astonishing coincidence, both languages are the same." he said. "And it means we don't have to faff around trying to understand each other."
The dwarf held a fist to his chest with a notable thump.
"My name is Jari Cliffrunner, ranger and helmsman of this fine vessel." he introduced.
The dwarf at that point looked at the initiates. He was about to say something when he spotted Fel'tak, who just happened to be wearing a pauldron that belonged to the hunters that ambushed them, and his eyes widened at the sight.
"Xel'khala!" Jari yelled in surprise and aggression.
Faster then anyone would have expected, the dwarf smashed through the Archangels, scattering them as he lunged at Fel'tak, barrelling into his legs and sending him crashing hard into the cold deck. Kra'vyx and Lyen'ta stumbled back in surprised shock as Jari hands lunged for Fel'tak's throat and the dwarf went about the process of trying to throttle the resisting initiate.
Mal'fax rushed in to yank Jari off his friend, in a way that was just stupid, by grabbing the dwarf by his beard. He was immediately answered with a brutal punch to his face, sending him reeling back with a loud crash with blood from loose teeth streaking through the air. The dwarf was a lot stronger then his size suggested.
Considering that Jari had the strength to deck even a yautja, this was enough to make the Archangels back off.
"Xel'khala scum!" the dwarf yelled in stupendously broken yautjan. "Oathbreakers!"
The fact that the dwarf was able to speak in yautjan, albeit a very bastardised version, was just not what the Archangels were expecting.
Fel'taks eyes bulged as he tried to breath. He kicked at the dwarf, managing to get a quick breather before Jari resumed his attack.
"What are you talking about?!" Fel'tak gagged frantically. "I'm not a Xel'khala, whatever that is!"
That only served in infuriate Jari even more.
"Don't give me that kruk!" Jari yelled in yautjan, slamming Fel'tak's head audibly into the deck. "You know full well what you traitors had done!"
At that point, Alaric stepped forward.
"Dwarf, they're with me." Alaric firmly interjected. "They are not Xel'khala."
The dwarf was momentary taken aback from that claim that one of them, most of all a human, knew of the Xel'khala, but his grip didn't. At least we wasn't slamming Fel'tak's head into the deck any more. Jari looked to Alaric and his eyes went wide when he saw him in that armour, with the ruby red eyes, the long hair and the silver hawk on his shoulder. And, most of all, the axes holstered on his waist.
His jaw dropped open as he realised.
"That's..." Jari started in Angloek, stunned by surprise before resuming his interrogation on Fel'tak. "What clan are you from?!" the dwarf demanded in yautja, shaking the semi-conscious initiate. "WHAT CLAN!?"
"Lai'Kairis!" Fel'tak managed to cough out.
The dwarf, huffing from exertion from before, let go of Kra'vyx's neck and the young hunter coughed as air got back into his lungs. The dwarf got to his feet as Fel'tak coughed hard as he shifted on his knees.
"Lai'Kairis?" Jari said, going over the name before his eyes widened. "That's the station as big a moon, isn't it?"
"Its the only one as far as I know." Fel'tak said, holding his throbbing head.
Jari fondled his beard in thought as Ly'enta helped Fel'tak to his feet. Mal'fax was now rolling onto his side, holding his jaw as blood seeped from one of his fangs.
"So the sanctuary ship survived." he said, before he grunted in disdain. "The most useful thing your Council ever did."
Fel'tak looked up at him in a manner that conveyed his resentment of being used as a stress toy.
"Sorry about that misunderstanding." Jari cheerfully apologised as if nothing happened.
Jari looked towards Alaric, dusting himself off to make himself more presentable.
"So, you're the one, eh?" he asked in Angloek. "The one the hawk said will come."
"If that's what he told you?" Alaric quipped, holding a hand out for Aegis to hop on.
The dwarf, in a gesture that was completely the opposite of what he just unleashed, bowed to him in a manner that spoke of greatest respect.
"I apologise for my reaction, my lord, but we have been on edge since the betrayal." Jari apologised, standing up straight. "Couldn't have taken the risk."
"None taken." Alaric accepted, turning to everyone."We all know about those yautja from before don't we?"
Everyone nodded in confirmation, the initiates especially considering their time as captives.
Jari was taken aback by that.
"From before?" he asked, before his eyes widened in realisation. "You encountered the Xel'khala?! Here?!"
"If that what those hunters call themselves, then yes." Sergei said, with murmurs of agreement form the squad.
Jari processed that. Considering that Fel'tak was wearing pieces of yautja armour that was not of any clan he recognised, bar those of of the Xel'khala, he needed more proof to determine if it was really the Xel'khala who ambushed them.
"You have any other evidence?" Jari asked.
"Did." Alaric said, with a hint of irritation. "I had requisitioned a clan glyph but previous events prevented me from keeping hold of it."
Jari scratched his beard in apprehension.
"Do you remember what it looked like, at least?" he asked.
"A mask with a crown of spikes." Alaric described, flawlessly given his...experiences.
Jari scratched his head in thought as he tried to remember if a clan had that particular glyph.
"Never heard of a clan glyph like that." he said out loud. "Unless..."
Jari hurridly ran over to the door, looking up and down the corridor. Evidently he was making sure that they wre not followed.
"Are they still here?" Jari asked. "You weren't followed?"
"Not that we noticed. Or Aegis" Alaric said. "I'd be surprised if they showed themselves after that fight."
Jari hurried back to them.
"Fight?" he asked. "You fought them?"
"Loosely." Alaric answered. "I think the term 'meat to the grinder' is a more appropriate description."
"How so?"
"They used Kra'vyx and his friends as hostages. Suffice to say, that was a big mistake on their part."
The initiates, especially Kra'vyx, testified to that with nods. Sergei and Mac also added to that, consider they saw Alaric tearing off a yautja's arms with his bare hands, Sergei giving of a vivid description complete with impressions.
Jari chuckled in relief.
"Well that's the kind of thing I like to hear after a long nap." he said in mirth.
Andrzej stepped forward at that moment. Clearly, at this point, they were getting away from the main reason they thawed the dwarf out in the first place.
"Look... Dwarf."Andzrej started. "I'm sure you have many questions, as do we, but we have civilian survivors and wounded waiting for us in the cargo hold. Less if they don't get medical help soon."
Jari looked up and down at the captain. He held his chin as he took in Andrzej's attire up close. From the scraping and scratches on the armour, Jari could tell that it was a composite armour made of different layers. Adequate protection by dwarf terms, a bit thin for their tastes though.
"Well, I have to say, you humans haven't changed much in the last centuries." Jari said, pointing to the sword hilt poking out from Andrzej's cloak and his holstered pistol. "Still using swords and flimsy armour. And you developed gunpowder at last. And I imagine you began to navigate the stars."
He then noticed the gauss revolver in Andrzej's belt and looking around, he saw the gauss rifle in Sergei's grip. Evidently, he recognised them as dwarven make, not human. The runic decoration stood out like a sore thumb. His hand dropped from his chin as his eyes widened
"May I ask, WHERE did you get those weapons?" he asked in shocked surprise.
"Long story." Alaric curtly answered. "First, can we get this ship up and running?"
Jari looked to Alaric and, after some thought, nodded.
"I'm sure there's a reason but we'll know later." Jari said. "Though the thane will expect a full explanation."
"The thane?" Andrzej said, in puzzlement.
"Lord." Jari clarified.
Jari walked over to some stone lockers, opening one which had his name, in runic script, on an embossed plate. He then looked to Alaric, expecting him to be already doing something.
"Well, aren't you gonna wake the others, then?" he asked, opening his locker and pulling out a tunic. "I can't fly this ship on my own."
Alaric walked over to the central console and held his hand over it. As what happened on the cryo-pod, the runes on the pads lit up as his hand hovered over them. Reading the runes, Alaric was able to activate the wake up protocol for all the pods simultaneously
The rest of the pods opened up in systematic fashion, fluidly opening like a wave on a beach. Judging by the silence, the occupants needed a little motivation to snap out of their sleep.
"Wake up, you lazy sods!" Jari yelled, banging his boots plating hard on the stone locker. "Our guest has arrived!"
A dwarf, resplendent with an intricate series of braids in his beige coloured hair and beard that covered most of his face. much like the Puli breed of dog, fumbled around for leverage before poking a sleepy face out from three pods down the line. Frankly, he fit the classic description of a mop-head with only his nose poking out.
"What?" the dwarf yawn in English, rubbing his eyes. "This better not be another false alarm."
Aegis jumped off Alaric's shoulder and flapped over. He soared past the dwarf, leaving a light trail and the dwarf's beard and hair was blown around in the back draught, revealing grey eyes. Evidently that was ample proof to get out of bed, so to speak.
"Okay, I'm getting up." the dwarf said in defeat, hauling himself out of the pod.
The occupants began hauling themselves in their own time, with tired yawns and coughing, as Aegis landed back on Alaric's shoulder. More dwarves came hauling themselves out of their pods. Each of them had beards of various lengths, styles and decoration, some having short beards with little ornamentation while some had theirs draping past their belts and were richly decorated. Evidently among dwarves, the variety of beards indicated age and status.
"Where is my damn pipe?!" an older dwarf complained, fumbling around in his pod before finding it had been ensnared in his bushy grey beard. "Oh, I forgot I keep it in my beard." he muttered pulling out the intricately carved stone and metal pipe from a silver loop in his beard over his chest.
There was another old dwarf, one that looked to be oldest among them. His hair and beard was completely snow white with silvery streaks like ripples of liquid metal. His eyes were also silver His beard reached down to his knees, two thick braids on the sides and richly decorated with runic jewels.
One of the dwarves nearest the front looked as if he was one twist away from a loose screw. His charcoal hair and beard was unkempt, wiry and stuck up in odd angles like he had been used as a power conduit. His eyes were a penetrating icy blue. And he had the unstable personality to boot when he jumped as his feet touched the cold decking.
"This floor is fucking freezing!" he complained. "Who turned off the heating!?"
A dwarf walked up to him, his golden beard trimmed into a mutton-chop style that followed his long moustache to his chest. He also had very intricate cybernetics that covered his right eye with subtle geometrical patterns and a reflective lens that served as the replacement eye, amber and the same colour as his good eye, complete with artificial retracting eyelids. In fact, he looked like an archetypical Victorian nobleman.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked with a hint of annoyance. "Fetch some slippers for you?"
"Would you, Bardin? I would love that." the dwarf asked sarcastically.
Bardin reached up to his eye and deftly pulled out the lens and optic system, revealing the port grafted in his eye socket.
"Look into my eye." Bardin said, pointing into the hollow space. "How many fucks do you see, Treval?"
Treval gave a quick glance into the eye socket like a prospector investigate a mineral vein.
"Absolutely fuck all." he answered.
"Exactly." Bardin said, putting his eye back in with a click.
Both dwarves then burst out in raucous and hearty laughter, slapping each other on the shoulders before walking up to the others.
Also coming out of the pods from further up the rows were surprisingly feminine figures.
Female dwarves.
The females, shorter then their men folk, with not as broad and squat. Rather, they more curvaceous as their body suits blatantly revealed. And instead of beards, as most fantastical depictions would tell, they instead had long hair either curled into buns or draping down over their shoulders in thick braids. If their hair was not tied up, one could easily guess it would reach their knees.
By a quick head count, there were over forty dwarves in this room at least.
The next group to haul themselves out from the pods, significantly fewer in number then the dwarves, were a major surprise.
There were three humans.
One of them was female and the other two were male.
One of the men was clearly old as his long greying black hair that drew past his shoulders and beard indicated, likely to be in his early sixties. The second was clearly in his mid teens with black hair that came down to his shoulders. The woman, her platinum blond hair reaching down past her waist, looked to be in her late twenties.
They too were in bodysuits and were each emblazoned with the Lambda symbol on their chests. And aside this, the man and boy had hazel eyes which hinted that they might be related. The woman on the other hand had silvery eyes which contrasted with an intricate series of blue crystalline vine-like tattoos on her face.
'This is getting more perplexing." Hicks said. "Now we have humans, actual humans, in cryo."
The old man coughed hard into his hands, slightly hunched over as he was approached by the woman and teenager. The two of them seemed concerned but the old man waved them off, saying something indistinct. They were conversing in the slayer tongue too. From this, Alaric could understand that their concern was from the old man's age being risky for cryosleep. Especially that of prolonged periods of hibernation.
Jari rushed up to the dwarf with the pipe and spoke in a hushed tone. The dwarf looked to Alaric and then back to Jari. Jari nodded, pointing out aegis on Alaric's shoulder. The old dwarf walked up to Alaric, pipe in his mouth and bowed in greeting, his beard touching the stone deck
"I am thane Varlin Ironbeard." the old dwarf introduced, standing back up and offering a hand to Alaric. "I am the captain of this fine vessel."
Alaric took the dwarf's hand and they both shook hands. The difference in size was highly evident as Varlin's almost covered Alaric's.
"Alaric Ce'tarn." Alaric introduced back, Varlin releasing his hand. "And this ship is called?"
"The Karak." Varlin answered with a hint of pride.
"Karak?"
"Well, 'Karak' is just a place holder." Varlin clarified. "It means 'World' in our native tongue. Khazdryn." he held his pipe to his mouth and sighed. "And, given the circumstances, this ship is our world now." he then perked up. "But, I'm certain we'll think of a new name in due time."
The humans from the pods at that point walked up. The old man was better on his feet now and his coughing had ceased. Despite his age, he had the demeanour of a grizzled veteran as his eyes scanned Alaric. Ruby and hazel eyes met as he sized Alaric up.
"Bet you didn't expect see fellow manlings, did you?" Varlin guessed.
"Not shrivelled up, no." Sergei said.
"Well, thats good on our account then." "Tried and tested these pods."
the old man then looked at the Archangels, somewhat perplexed by their style of dress.
"That is Lysandros, veteran of the war and most esteemed Spartan I've ever met." Varlin introduced with his pipe. "And his grandson and apprentice, Cyrus."
Cyrus nodded his head in greeting. Lysandros merely grumbled.
Varlin then gestured to the woman.
"And this is Korrina, Oracle and the Keeper of the ship." he introduced.
Korrina greeted them, speaking to them in a language not heard either by Alaric or the Archangels. But they could tell that it was some sort of customary greeting. So, courteously, they bowed their heads in greeting.
At that moment, Varlin's brows raised.
"Oh, that reminds me." he said, remembering something important. "I need to wake the housekeeper."
Varlin took his pipe out of his mouth as he walked over to the statue. He looked up, seeing all the frost coating it and tapped his pipe on the sculpted belt.
"He's been oversleeping again." Varlin muttered shaking his head.
Naturally, everyone was puzzled as to why Varlin was talking to this statue.
"What is the elder doing?" Ly'enta asked.
"Obvious, he's going senile." Fel'tak muttered, rubbing his neck.
Varlin reached up with his pipe and tapped loudly on the gem in the statue's chest.
"Igneous!" he called out, rapping his pipe. "Wake up."
The statue didn't move, completely inert as anyone would expect a statue to be. Fel'tak was snickering at the thane's attempts, Varlin muttered under his breath as he tried again, this time plucking the gemstone from it's socket and then banging it against the plinth. Alaric and co were perplexed about this treatment that Varlin was giving to the statue. Fel'tak started twirling his finger by his head and pulling a stupid face.
"Igneous, wake up!" Varlin said to the gemstone
The gemstone, in what could be describe as self-aware, began to glow in Varlin's hand.
"That's better." Varlin commended.
He placed it back into and spoke a phrase in Khazdryn. The moment he did, something truly surprising happened. The statues decorations started to glow, streams of light surging from the crystal and spreading all over the statue, filling in all the indentations and runic scriptures.
The statue's eyes opened, revealing sapphire blue crystal eyes. It blink several times, flecks of frost chipping from it's eyes and, in an out of place moment of sentience, it yawned a long gravely yawn that sounded like rumbling earth.
Suffice to say the Archangels and initiates were really shocked as the statue stepped off it's plinth, its large stone boots thundering on the deck. Alaric on the other hand looked impressed.
Well, he thought with admiration of this feat of dwarven engineering, I'm impressed.
The statue then spoke in Khazdryn, in a manner that spoke of annoyance as it held it's head like it was having a headache.
"The statue is moving!" Fek'tak blabbed, his eyes looking like they were about to pop out. "The statue is moving!"
"That's not a statue, its a construct!" Mal'fax corrected.
"The proper term is 'Golem'." Alaric corrected in yautjan.
Hicks was wide eyed as the golem rubbed it's face with a large hand, like an actual person.
"This is way beyond androids." he said.
"As if we can make synthetics out of stone." Karl muttered. "Things wouldn't be able to move."
Mac was whispering in his native tongue as he saw the golem move, the word 'Kami' popping up many times.
Varlin looked at the semi-cowering marines and initiates. The dwarves and spartans were amused by their reactions.
"Oh don't worry, he's perfectly docile." he assured "You get use to his eccentricity after a while."
Varlin stepped out in front of the golem. It looked down at him.
"Igneous, please escort our guests to the Hub, please." Varlin ordered.
Igneous looked at the assembled humans and yautja. His rocky brow furrowed in displeasure as he looked down at the dwarf.
"By my beard, the first time I hear your voice since you've gone on ice and it tells me to be a babysitter." Igneous chided in a voice that sounded a cross between gravely and synthesised. "Do you know how long I've spent on my own, doing checks on this bloody ship every century, doing the exact same bloody thing over and over? And as thanks, I get bashed against this sodding plinth. It's enough to drive the soul mad!"
Varlin stood his ground, nibbling his pipe in his teeth.
"Igneous, you will show some respect." Varlin scolded. "This is the one Aegis has brought to us."
Igneous looked over to Alaric. He tilted his head, stone grinding at his neck. Evidently, Alaric was not what he was expecting.
"You sure?" Igneous asked credulously "He doesn't really look like one of Gri..."
He was silenced by a boot to the head by an irate dwarf. Igneous blinked as he registered the impact.
"Igneous, shut up!" Treval yelled. "It's too early for your griping!"
Igneous responded by picking up the boot, his hand completely enveloping it and throwing it back, even harder, with a loud crack. Treval's yell of pain from a boot to the head prompted several dwarves to laugh.
"Griping is one of my ancestor-given rights." he reminded, as Treval rubbed his head.
"Igneous, just do it, please." Varlin firmly asked.
Igneous grumbled in barely contained rancour before walking off to the doorway, his stone and metal feet pounding the deck and making it shudder. He hunched through the hatch, mumbling about how low the doors are and how he has to hunch to move anywhere, and stood up straight on the other side, his glowing ornamentation illuminating his surroundings.
"Well, come on." he urged half-heartedly, waving his hand. "I'll show you to your rooms while they make themselves decent. You don't want to see Treval naked, trust me."
'I heard that!" Treval yelled.
Varlin looked up to Alaric
"Forgive Igneous' manners." Varlin apologised "He never was good with people. Even before his current state."
"None taken, I was like that once." Alaric said.
Alaric walked out first, Aegis on his shoulder, followed by the Archangels and then the initiates apprehensively followed suit. Igneous kept his eyes glued on them like a hawk, muttering in Khazdryn. While they couldn't understand the golem's ramblings, one could easily get the impression that he had a dislike of company.
Of all the golems that might be in existence, they were stuck with a misanthropic one.
"And keep you bloody bird away from me." Igneous warned Alaric, leading the way. "I have enough shit to worry about without being literally covered in it."
Varlin watched from the doorway as the golem led Alaric and his party back to the hub.
"Well, lets get the ship up and running." Varlin said, sticking his pipe in his mouth and heading to his locker.
Back in the cargo hold, the colonists were getting restless. The Archangels and the initiates have been gone hours now with no radio contact. The marines were getting edgy as they kept their vigil, eyes kept on weapons and their scant munitions. Whenever there was a sudden noise, usually by someone dropping something, everyone would pause tensely before, after realising it was somebody's blundering, they would relax their tension.
Suffice to say, the situation was getting incredibly bleak.
With a lack of medical supplies, they had to resort to cruder techniques to treat the wounded. The wounded, those still conscious, groaned from their injuries. The loader pilots were still asleep, which was fortunate considering their injuries. With a lack of painkiller meds, the rather drastic but effective technique of using a fist as anaesthetic had to be used on the more vocal patients.
They didn't want the groans and moans to attract unwanted attention.
Kenneth was sitting by himself away from the other wounded, holding his head. His wife and son stayed with him. Aside from a bad headache and livid rawness, he was doing fine.
"Have we got any more bandages?" a colonist called out, peeling blood-soaked cloth from a marine's leg just above the knee. "This ones got a bad infection."
The trickles of yellowing pus that was starting to seep from the crusted wound, which resulted from shrapnel at the ambush, was evidence of that.
"Unless you fancy going nude, we've got nothing left." the marine answered dryly.
The colonist dunked the impromptu bandage into a nearby bucket of boiling water over a portable stove. Given that there was no other method available for sterilisation, this would would have to do. He then went about trying to clean the newly festering wound as much as he could, using a flask of whisky that was 'donated' from someone who didn't need it any more. The marine hissed through his teeth as he felt the stinging burn of the alcohol. Drying up the wound, the colonist wrapped a strip of padded cloth around the marines leg. With that done, the marine limped off while the colonist went to the next patient.
Erickson sat on the transport's ramp, his lamp helmet on his lap, holding his stomach as it gave out a loud groan.
Food was also a serious concern. Despite gathering as much as they could from the colony, the ambush had virtually scattered and ruined most of it. And what little there was had been divided and eaten.
"Is there any food left." he asked around.
A marine nearby, counting the bolts in his bolt-gun's drum, pointed a finger towards the transport.
"If you fancy breaking your teeth, there's some hard tack left in the truck." he said.
Erickson walked inside the compartment and looked inside one of the salvaged crates and pulled out a tin case. On it was stencilled: Emergency ration, TYPE B. He popped the lid and dumped the contents into his hand. Sure enough, there was some hard tack left, basically a very thick biscuit or cracker, still clad in its cellophane wrapping.
To Erickson, the hard tack did not look very appealing as he tore off its wrapper. It was about the size and thickness of a large hockey puck, practically a spitting image, and was uniformly a kind of sandy brown with darker flecks within. And another thing was that it was literally rock hard, as was demonstrated when Erickson tried to break a chunk off in his hands with no success. He banged it on the decking, hearing a solid clang as the slab of compressed dough connected to the metal.
Seeing that he would need something with more force, Erickson tried to break it in half by holding it against the transport's deck at the edge of the ramp and then striking it with a hammer from the tool box. But, at the moment the head connected to the baked produce, the hard tack pinged out of Erickson's grasp, making him yelp. The supposed food had now turned into a projectile, flipping through the air and making a loud thud as it bounced off an unfortunate colonist's head. The colonist instinctively clutched his head as the hard tack landed by his feet with a loud clatter.
Despite it being just essentially a biscuit that had been baked multiple times to increase longevity, it was taking that word a little bit too far.
"What the fuck, man?!" the colonist fumed, holding his head and picking up the hard tack.
Erickson looked to the marine.
"Are you serious?" he asked. "That'll break my teeth!"
"Oh, its perfectly edible." the marine assured with a suppressed grin. "You just gotta suck on it for a day or two."
"And it helps to stop bullets." another marine joked, pointing a thumb at himself. "First hand experience."
The marines laughed at that old joke as Erickson sat back down, only to have the hard tack thrown back at him by the irate colonist.
Up on the lookout, the sentry was keeping a concentrated view on the surroundings. The motion tracker gave out a very soft series of bleeps. The marine holding the tracker, sporting a bandage over one eye, looked down to see the dot was barely registering. It was about a dozen or so meters away, just outside lamp range. And then the signal vanished.
The marine kept his eye on the tracker and sure enough, the anomaly reappeared several meters to the left.
"There it is again." he whispered.
A marine came climbing up, dumping his bolt-gun on the roof of the container before hauling himself up.
"What is it, Emil?" he asked.
"I've been getting something on the tracker, Miller." the half blind marine explained. "I've been watching it for a while. The signal is very faint. Its drops off at one point and then reappears in another spot."
Miller looked at the tracker, watching as the faint signal moved and then vanished.
"Any idea what it is?" he asked, picking up his bolt-gun.
"No and I don't fancy going out there to find out." Emil insisted. "I'm hoping its just rats."
Miller shrugged before jumping down from the sentry post.
"Could even be the boogie-man." he jokingly suggested before walking off.
It was at that moment that the eerie calm would soon give way to one of haste.
The elevator's readouts glowed and a low chime was heard. A marine, a corporal as his stripes told, sitting by the elevator, smoking one of the last cigarettes, looked up and coughed in surprise before stubbing it out on his pauldron.
"Company!" he yelled. "Lock and load... if you can."
Marines rushed forward as they cocked their weapons, getting ready to face whatever was coming down the lift. The marine carrying the flamer primed the pilot light and crouched in front of the others. The tension was high as colonists vacated to cover, poking heads out to see what was going to come out. The runes above the elevator lit in sequence as the lift got closer and closer.
The elevator stopped, coming to halt. The marines braced themselves, their fingers starting to squeeze the triggers.
The elevator doors opened with a complementary beep and inside was Alaric with his helmet under an arm and Andrzej with his helmet on his belt.
"Oh, man!" a marine sighed, lowering his bolt-gun.
The other marines did the same in relief as the two Spec Ops marines stepped out.
"Who were you expecting, Santa Claus?" Alaric asked, holding his arms out in mock surrender.
"If Saint Nick was packing supplies, then yes." the corporal quipped, looking at his crumpled cigarette with annoyance.
The marines walked off as Foreman Hernandez came walking up. He was anxious to hear on what they had found and why there were only the two of them here.
"There's only two of you?" he questioned before dread kicked in. "What happened to the others?"
"Its okay, the rest are just upstairs holding the fort." Alaric assured, pointing up.
That was a weight of the foreman's shoulders. The last thing anyone wanted was for more of their number to plummet. Especially those who could fight.
"Did you find anything?" he asked. "You were gone for hours."
"Have you found us a way off this rock?" a marine bluntly asked. "None of us here fancy being frozen food for those bugs."
Andrzej raised his hands to calm down the mob.
"We have a valid reason for that." Andrzej explained. "Gather everyone for this."
Everyone gathered around the transport. A lot of expectant faces looked up at Alaric and Andrzej on the ramp leading up to the elevator. When they were sure they had got everyone's attention, they spilled the beans.
"We've got good news and surprising news." Alaric revealed "You'll want to brace yourselves for this." he turned to Andrzej. "You want to tell them?"
Andrzej stepped forward, coughing into a hand.
"The good news is... that this place is actually a ship." Andrzej revealed. "We are in fact in the cargo hold of a massive cruiser-approximate vessel."
Immediately, there were murmurs erupting and it didn't take long for more questions to start cropping up.
"A ship?" one colonist asked. "As in an actual space-worthy craft?"
"Yes, that was confirmed when we found the bridge." Andrzej clarified "But, this is nothing like the ships that we use."
"So your saying there's no way we can use it." a marine spoke up disappointing. "Well, thanks for getting our hopes up!"
"And that's where the surprising news comes in." Andrzej added before gesturing to the elevator. "This is the crew."
On that cue, Varlin stepped out with his pipe in his mouth. The old dwarf was dressed in practical but stylish ware befitting of a dwarf lord. He wore a thick fur lined cloak, with an metal runic eagle head pauldron over his right shoulder with a segmented, rune ornamented baldric over his chest. He wore a tabard of thick cloth with scale mail plating, richly decorated with interconnecting geometrical patterns on the lining edges. Underneath he wore a long sleeved tunic with interlacing stripes going up the sleeves, articulated gauntlets of silvery metal lined with gold, breeches and fur lined boots.
He took his pipe out of his mouth in greeting, his arms out in a friendly gesture.
"Welcome to the Karak, people of Gaia." he greeted.
He was met with stunned looks. Evidently, they had never seen a real life dwarf, baring those few afflicted with dwarfism. And they clearly never expected to seen one on a remote ice planet too.
"Oh, I see humanity doesn't remember us." Varlin said, part sad and part embarrassed as he lowered his arms.
Jari stepped out next to him. He was clad in what looked like a fur lined flight suit, reinforced with leather plating or something akin to leather, He wore armoured boots and gauntlets too, engraved with wings. He also wore a pair of goggles on his head that emphasised the fact he was a pilot.
"With memories as short as theirs, it's to be expected." Jari whispered in Varlin's ear.
Stepping out after Jari, his boots rapping on the decking, Lysandros appeared in full gear. His armour, as ornate as Alaric's was, looked to be of an older design. The plating looked less refined, was battle damaged with various nicks and cuts and, whereas Alaric's armour resembled a linothorax, Lysandros' armour resembled a muscled cuirass. His corinthian helmet, with a large neat scrape over the right eye, was opened faced as opposed to Alaric's but one can assume that the helmet can be enclosed if one wishes it. His shield was unique to Alaric's, again maybe an older design or personal choice, and that it had reinforced plating on the shield rim in what looked like a Celtic cross.
And the last to come out were two dwarfs in full battle armour. Their armour, much like the armour Alaric had seen before, were essentially large slabs of carved metal with scale mail draping down from the waist and shoulders. The pauldrons were again massive and gave the impression that their heads were in their chests and their heads were in enclosed helmets with a grim face on them. Each of them were carrying gauss rifles and had axes and gauss pistols holstered on their belts.
Suffice to say, after what they have all been through, the colony was not expecting to see humanoids, or even an actual human, in a place like this.
"They're the crew?" Hernandez finally asked.
"Being that we found them in cryo-pods emphasises that." Andrzej answered, turning to Varlin. "Thane Ironbeard, this is foreman Hernandez, de facto leader of the colonists." he introduced.
"Foreman?" Varlin said, before his brow raised. "Ah, you must be a miner. Good old profession that is. Come from a long line of them myself."
Hernandez was still in an element of surprise that took him a few seconds to respond.
"I see." he started "Um... Well, its nice to see a friendly face."
"Come, come, no need to be shy." Varlin urged, holding a hand out in greeting.
Hernandez apprehensivly held his hand out and the dwarf gave him a hearty handshake.'
"See, not so bad is it?" Varlin said, giving the miner a pat on the shoulder.
The dwarf looked out the assembled colonists and noticed the long line of wounded.
"Not many of you left." He said, concerned. "A lot of wounded too."
"Yes, we almost didn't survive that last attack." Hernandez explained.
"By whom, the Xel'khala?" Varlin asked.
There was the faint chime from the motion tracker and the marine holding it quickly held it up.
"Fuck, there it is again." Emil said, looking down at the screen before pointing directly away from the elevator. "In that direction."
Lysandros looked up for a moment in that direction and his eyes widened behind his helmet's eye slits. Before anyone could speak or even duck, Lysandros hefted his spear and threw it with remarkable force, its energy field creating a blue slipstream behind like a shooting star. The was a massive flash of sparks as the spear hit something. There was a metallic punch, followed by thunk of stone being struck as what ever was hit had now become nailed to a literal wall.
Lysandros grunted in satisfaction and rotated his shoulder.
"The hell man, that was nearly my head!" Emil fumed.
Varlin gestured to the dwarf warriors to investigate what Lysandros had hit. The dwarves cocked their weapons, the gauss weaponry charging up, and they ran over, their boots thumping loudly. Lysandros drew his kopis with a song of metal. The dwarfs vanished from view as they turned the corner.
"What is it, Lysandros?" Varlin asked.
"A spy." the old spartan said, tightening his grip with cracking knuckles.
"Spy?" Emil said, looking at his tracker. "I think you just got that rat I've been tracking."
It didn't take long for things to take a twist.
"Thane, you need to a look at this!" one of the dwarves called out.
Varlin walked over, followed by Alaric, Andrzej, Jari Lysandros and Emil. And when they arrived, they found what Lysandros had hit as the old spartan stood next to it and sheathed his kopis.
Nailed to the pillar, with a foot of the shaft in the stone, was a sparking machine. A machine which had yautja style plating. In a way it resembled somthing akin to an insect with two sets of curved wings, likely some kind of repulsor unit, and a multitude of small robotic eyes surrounding one large eye of red glass. The whole things fizzed and spark as it's systems were on the brink of failure.
All those lenses spoke of one purpose for this machine.
"A surveillance drone." Alaric said behind clenched teeth.
"And the handy work of a sadistic Xel'khala, no doubt." Varlin added with barely contained disgust.
One thing that that they saw was that parts of it kept fading out of sight, not unlike the cloaking tech that yautja used. Only this sort of cloaking looked more advanced, actually smoothing the drones's outline more then traditional units, making it nearly impossible to see. Yautja cloaking can be deteced by those who have sharp enough sight to see light bending around the hunter. And the outer carapace was coated in some kind of... bio-synthetic layer. Giving it a prod, Alaric could feel that it was like the carapace of an insect.
This evoked an idea that this used to be some kind of creature before being augmented by cybernetics.
"Guess that answers the question of how those hunters were able to ambush us at the refinery." Andrzej concluded. "Though, I have never seen any hunter tech this advanced."
Emil looked at the drone with his eyes wide.
"Bloody hell, that was a good shot!" Emil said in amazement. "Considering the size and distance."
He looked to Lysandros.
"Sweet aim, old man." he praised. "Bet you lobbed a few in your day."
Lysandros pulled the spear out with a nice ring of metal, the drone crashing to the floor the moment it came free. It twitched several times before its systems failed shut down, the lenses fading into darkness. He then turned to the marine, barely an inch between them.
"Since I was nine." Lysandros clarified before giving the marine a glare that made the soldier step back. "And don't call me 'Old Man'." he firmly warned.
Emil backed off. Evidently, he realised that despite his age, Lysandros could easily kick his ass. Lyzandros walked off, muttering under his breath.
Varlin came up to the drone and prodded it with his boot. He looked to Jari.
"Get this to the tech wing." Varlin ordered."Find out where it's controller is."
Jari bent down and grabbed the drone by it's wings. Hefting it to his shoulder, he and the two dwarf guards ran back to the elevator, their boots thumping loudly on the decking.
It was at that point that lights came on. With a seamless transition of darkness to light, the cargo bay was illuminated as if it as day. And the full extent of the cargo bay was revealed, which turned out to be easily over a kilometre long and about a hundred feet high.
"And there's the power." Jari praised. "Not long now, Thane!"
Varlin led Alaric and Andrzej back to the elevator. The colony was watching the dwarves haul the damaged drone to the elevator, murmurs filling the air. Varling stood in front of the elevator as Jari dumped the drone with a loud clatter.
"So, this way Manlings." Varlin urged, gesturing to the elevator.
The holoscreen was full of static as the feed was suddenly cut off with a loud screech of metal. The last image it showed was the sight of Alaric, one of the Archangels, a human in nearly the same armour as Alaric and a couple of heavily armoured dwarves.
And, to a seasoned hunter such as Mal'kah, that could mean only one thing.
"Perfect." Mal'kah said, rubbing his eye plate. "The drone had been detected."
He lowered his hand as he shut of the screen. His subordinates quickly resumed their work after they overheard their commander..
"Still, it took them that long to notice it." he quipped. "Was working against their motion trackers quite well. Until someone with a sharp enough eye spotted it."
He then chuckled.
"Unlike some I can mention, I removed any identification to make tracking more difficult." he mused. "What was that saying? "Like a surgeon, an assassins' hand must always remain clean."
He then sighed.
"Quite an apt one, given personal experiance." he added. "Xyl'tai and her... son hold that one dear."
Footsteps were heard approaching his command throne. Mal'kah pivoted the throne on the spot and he saw the surgeon stand to attention. His overalls were covered in blood from him, his staff and Qul'dan. His black eye was still prominent and his left arm was now in a sling.
"Did the operation go well?" Mal'kah asked.
"The operation was a success." the doctor reported. "Which is more then I can say for my staff."
Mal'kah looked at the doctor's arm. That hinted at one very likely reason reason for his answer.
"Qul'dan woke up, did he?" he asked.
"Near the end after I had just reattached his muscles to his bones." the doctor explained, holding in the the pain from his arm. "Evidently, he wanted to put me in his position. But the guards you posted did their job. Even I had a go at him with a stun rod."
"Is he still under, so to speak?"
"Yes, as much as we can go without giving him permanent brain damage. My staff, those still standing mind you, are busy with the final stage of re-grafting his skin."
Mal'kah rubbed his eye plate as the phantom itch nagged him.
"Very good." Mal'kah congratulated, lowering his hand. "If he's going to be ranted at by our Lord, betters he's in one piece so as to be sporting."
He pivoted the throne back around.
"You may leave." Mal'kah permitted. "you and your staff are due from some rest for their efforts. I suggest you make the most of it."
The doctor bowed his head and promptly left the bridge. Mal'kah could hear the doctor muttering about relief being overdue. While it would normally take a few hours for the operation to conclude, Qul'dans 'objections' made it drag on and on.
Mal'kah, now that Qul'dan had been taken care of, could now focus his full attention on the matter at hand without interruption.
Mal'kah punched a few keys on his thrones command pad. A holographic screen projected over the armrest, showing a topographic scan of the area that the drone was lost.
The mountain range that evoked the image of a a gargantuan bird.
Mal'kah studied the picture, leaning back with a hand cupping his chin as he planned their next move. He zoomed in on the mountain, projecting a 3D model and highlighting the area beneath it as recorded by the drone. The tunnel and the cargo hold were illuminated and images of Alaric and those dwarves were projected around the mountain.
"This is more the enough evidence that Alaric is aware of his origins." he surmised. "And now he has some ancient allies to boot. No doubt they have god-forged blades." he then paused in thought. "Or are they?"
He had been curious about these god-forged blades. His own sickles being a rare pair of them. Only the most prominent yautja clans had possession of these weapons. Weapon that far surpassed anything the yautja could make, Light, mono-edged blades that never lost their keenness, even after centuries of use or age. But, for some reason, they never held a quality that ancient legends told.
And that was controlling a supposed supernatural force known as Aethyr.
That was what a god-forged blade was reputed to harness. A force that could alter the very fabric of creation. But, given that little was known about history before the Dark Times, many took this as just superstition and fable and nothing else.
Ma then turned his attention to a yautja in front of him who was fast asleep in his chair the helmsman of the ship. Mal'kah chuckled as he aimed his gauntlet. He fired something akin a firework from his gauntlet and the sparkling bolt shot out and struck the slumbering yautja at the back of the head with a loud bang.
The helmsman, adrenaline pumping through his body from the sudden shock, scrambled and tumbled out of his chair, crashing to the ground and holding his head by reflex. The other yautja on the bridge jumped in their chairs when they heard the bang.
"Had a good nap?" Mal'kah asked as the helmsman picked himself up.
The yautja was nervous that he had been caught napping by the elite hunter.
"I was just resting my eyes, sir." the helmsman hesitantly explained, sitting back in his seat.
Mal'kah simply gave a low chuckle as he kept his gauntlet aimed at the yautja, who was now nervously looking over his should..
"Well, in that case you should be fresh for this next bit." Mal'kah surmised.
He lowered his arm and the helmsman gave out a tense sigh of relief.
"Helmsman, prepare the ship." Mal'kah ordered. "Set cloaking field to maximum. We're heading out for a better vantage point."