"Who is more foolish, the child afraid of the dark or the man afraid of the light?"- Maurice Freehill
Jericus noted that despite their erring on the side of consummate professionalism even the storm-troopers were gawking a little, he could tell from their posture. Even him erring on the side of professionalism to the strict standards of the Death Korps was gawking at what he was seeing. The area beyond the door looked nothing like the blocky and imposing technology he had come to associate with his race, in-fact it looked downright xeno, heretical even.
First off the symmetry of the room was off, and that was to say that it was perfect, absolutely perfect, as though mirror images had been combined to make it so. It was very unnerving to the usually handcrafted and gothic looking aesthetic of the rest of Imperial society, keck even more so than the rest of Endurholdgun's infrastructure which was already bizarre to look at to begin with. The walls of the room seemed alive, and all of it seemed to feed into some very strange looking interface in the exact center of the space.
Again eerily symmetrical in its appearance, no analogue interfaces upon its surface to indicate that it had any importance, instead the sheer perfection of its form did all the indication by itself. The whole effect certainly was bizarre to say the least.
Like some ancient pedestal the interface was raised up claiming importance and the attention of everyone in the room. Jericus watched as Dauntless, B-63, the storm-trooper Captain, and Kerelia approached it, each did so slowly as though afraid the might of the ancients from the bygone era of wondrous and frightening technology would lash out at them through time itself. After a nervous few moments nothing happened, the silence that gripped the room did nothing to relieve the palpable tension that preceded such an event as this one.
Jericus was just glad that he wasn't the one that had to hit the on button, keck who knew what that would do. At the moment it felt like it would sever their souls from their corporeal bodies, though Jericus severely hoped that wasn't within the ancient's grasp of doing.
"Well Magos can you access it?" Inquisitor Dauntless prompted to get the metaphorical ball rolling.
Kerelia snapped from her staring her optics wide revere of the interface and even the surrounding room halted as she sheepishly nodded the affirmative. "Sorry Dauntless, it's just that the amount of noospheric data coming off of this thing, and even radiating though the air and on the walls of this room is enough to spend a few millennia to fully comprehend. But you're right let's get to the center of all of this."
The cog-girl's mechadendrites began to snake through the air around the spherical interface, only she was able to see the data she shifted and dug through move and part for her as she looked through the veritable ocean of knowledge.
"Oh, Inquisitor! This is all simply fantastic! Just the information I've just seen on food production alone would give the Imperium a significant edge, think about it. No more food riots on overpopulated planets, we would eliminate so many revolts just from this alone!" Kerelia was ecstatic at the prospect.
"That is quite something Magos, be sure to catalog it, but perhaps you can find the means to some of the weapons we've been seeing. Or maybe instructions that could shed light on currently incomplete projects within the Mechanicus," Dauntless put in his own eyes seeming to glaze over at the possibility.
"Of course, but you have to understand that will take time, maybe months just to catalog the information for further study. I can get one or two complete STC designs stored on my internal cogitators, and maybe even a few other partial pieces of data, but we're going to have to come back with more Adepts for the rest of it," she enthused.
"Hmm," the Inquisitor nodded and cupped his chin thoughtfully, trusting in the expertise of the Magos in such things. In his prior experience it was an appropriate response when finding even a partially intact STC with severe memory loss and degradation, one that was nigh fully operational would indeed take quite a bit of time to sort through. "Understood, grab what you can, our main forces should be securing the outer perimeter of the base by now if all went accordingly. A detachment of our reinforcements to help secure the inner-installation should also be sweeping through to meet us as we speak, Captain?"
"All checks out Inquisitor, vox confirms it, but I would like to set up a better defense just in case there are any enemy stragglers heading our way," the storm-trooper Captain said taciturnly, his mirrored visor giving nothing away.
"Quite right Captain, get your men right on it. Watchmaster I'd like for you and yours to stay here with me and my retinue, you lot deserve a bit of a reprieve after what you've been through," Dauntless said as he paced around the pedestal to the opposite side of Kerelia as though trying to divine what it was the Magos was seeing.
"Thank you Inquisitor, I appreciate the kindness, I'll have them set up around us though just as a precaution." B-63 turned to where his squad was mulling about. "Troopers, you know what to do, set up around the Inquisitor and the Magos, keep the interface secure."
Instantly the squad obeyed, battered and tired but no less effective, even the still very hurt B-80 was quick to his position just outside of the interface. The rest of the squad forming in a loose arc facing the ragged entrance to the STC interface which was already being shored up by the ever proficient storm-troopers.
Inquisitor Dauntless' retinue placed themselves liberally around the squad as well, weaving loosely among the Korps troopers and forming their own groups to help supplement the formation, though they were varied the Inquisitorial agents were no-doubt well versed... save perhaps for Aryn, the ogryn instead occupying himself standing with the storm-troopers, or at least watching them in a blatantly open area vulnerable to enemy fire should there be a fight. Though his bulk and heavy armor probably diluted if not outright stopped any threat it posed him.
For their part the storm-troopers seemed to actually be utilizing some stolen enemy deployable cover, the material having shown its ability to soak up punishment would no doubt work beautifully in their favor. Anywhere they couldn't use it they used chunks cut off the door they had cut through as makeshift patches to the gaps, the metallic material would be equally adequate cover for any attack that could come their way.
B-63 nodded approvingly as he watched the unnervingly coordinated—even by Korps standards—actions of the storm-troopers, turning away from the scene he addressed the Inquisitor. "It's not my place Inquisitor, but what will become of my squad and I once this mission is completed?"
"Heard some rather frightening tales of the Inquisition eh?" Dauntless shot back a playful edge to his voice.
B-63 suppressed a shutter, he had indeed heard horror stories, they permeated the Guard about the shadowy and nigh-all-powerful organization of the Inquisition, thus he settled for an affirmative nod so as not to get into any misunderstanding with the powerful man across from him.
"Well if you're worried about summary execution don't be. When we first met I told you that I like your pragmatism Watchmaster, a man after mine own heart, and your troopers... top rate indeed. I would not deprive the Guard of such valuable resources, and besides, chances are should you ever tell anyone of this event they won't even believe you," Dauntless chuckled mirthfully. "No a resource as valuable as you and your troopers has many other uses, of which I am inclined to take advantage of. Yes I believe that this will just be the start of our relationship Watchmaster."
Despite the positive light the Inquisitor painted on the whole thing B-63 was feeling anything but. His job was already hard as it was what with the nigh-suicidal operations the Death Korps put him through each and every campaign, and now he would be doing favors for an Inquisitor on the side. Well on the side if he was lucky, he really didn't want to be conscripted into Dauntless' shadowy and cut-throat world, too complicated, and even given his current position much more dangerous in more ways than he cared to imagine. Stories after all had to be based partially in fact.
"Looking forward to the honor Inquisitor," B-63 stated opting for the most basic and safe route, compliance, it got him through the Korps and the death of his world, it could get him through this.
Dauntless laughed heartily. "No you're not my good Watchmaster, like I said man after mine own heart," B-63's shocked face was thankfully lost behind his mask at the comment. "Some advice Watchmaster, try not to think so loudly around psykers, hiding things from us doesn't work too well if we want to find out something. That goes for the rest of your troopers as well." The Inquisitor gave a meaningful glance beyond B-63, straight toward Jericus as he said this.
Though stated kindly the way a father would give his son worldly advice B-63 couldn't help but feel the underlying threat to Dauntless' words. And the way he looked at Jericus sealed it, the man knew, and he knew much more than B-63 would like him to, though B-63 thought ruefully that he shouldn't have been surprised, Dauntless was an Inquisitor after all.
"Understood Inquisitor, I'm sorry," B-63 said stoically.
Dauntless smiled at him, his wide-brimmed hat adding to the effect. "No need to be Watchmaster, I'm simply a curious fellow. Prerequisite to be in my position, I knew of you and your trooper long before ever meeting you, and I have to say it was the reason I convinced your higher-ups to select you for this operation even before my arrival. A pretest for things to come, and you and yours passed with flying colors I must say."
B-63 just felt as though he was getting sucked in deeper and deeper with each passing second, he just hoped he could keep him and his squad's heads above the proverbial water. Though he supposed that the Inquisitor not killing them—at least not on purpose—meant he had won a small victory in the game of life. Though he was sure he would come to regret winning this game.
Fenria kept her eyes sharp, though there was little they could do where they were should any assault come their way, so she let herself relax a little. Something the Korps ironically taught them to do as it helped them react faster to a threat if they were indeed relaxed, not relaxed in the sense that they were complacent, but in the sense that their muscles would be loose and their psyche was clear and ready.
She noted Jericus give an involuntary gasp from her right, his right hand twitching steadily before resuming a solid grip on his lasgun. He settled down and simply began to look around the empty air above and all around them, his head swiveling as he took something in, though she didn't know what. Her curiosity built before running over.
"S-1049 what are you doing," her question was as always direct.
Jericus turned to her, and from his body language she could tell it was something interesting. "I overheard the Magos when she was talking to the Watchmaster and Inquisitor, she said 'noospheric data' so I figured I'd give it a look with my optic."
Fenria remembered Magos Chevel teaching him about something regarding the noosphere, though Jericus hardly had a knack for it, or so he had said if she remembered correctly.
"Well, what about it?" She decided to pry a little more, he had explained it to her briefly before, but it had been very ambiguous to her at the time if she was honest, as it was to him too.
"It's everywhere, on the Ipsum it was there but I had to look and focus on the walls to get a good view of it. Here it's just filling the air, it's really bright too, I can hardly see the symbols they're going by so fast and they're so dense. I can't imagine how the Magos is sorting through all of it, much less getting any actual data from it," he stated in awe as he continued to look around. "I wish you could see it, it's really something."
Now Fenria did wish she could see what her friend was seeing, though she still wished he hadn't had to lose his eye to be able to view such things. Even with his awed tone she herself felt the loss of her natural eyes might be too steep a price to pay, even for such a sight.
"Alright well maybe you should stop looking at it, might be too distracting if something happens," she voiced sympathetically, drawing him back to looking out for dangers. She wanted him to be ready if something were to happen, and the way he was looking around he wouldn't be if he were focused on the noosphere.
"Yeah you're right sorry, it's gone now I'm back to regular sight," he said a little reluctantly, but the steel she knew was in his voice.
"No need, you're right I wish I could see it, just want you to be safe is all," she replied back softly. He nodded amiably showing her that he knew she was being sincere.
"Aye don' these two seem a little too chummy Gunther?" Schmidt and his friend appeared from their left sidling up to them to help with their watch.
"Tha' does seem ta be the case Schmidt, I'd say tha's one right strong bond they got there." Gunther replied to his companion, then directing himself again toward her and Jericus. "You two aren't... well together are ye? Cause gotta say the way ya talk to each other sure makes it seem like it, ain't tha' a bit dangerous given yer regiment. Hain't heard 'bout the Death Korps tolerating tha' sort of thing myself."
The two Inquisitorial agents laughed boisterously at the two troopers silence, even through their masks and obscuring wargear the observant men could see their discomfort.
"Ah, we didn't mean nothin' by it you two, just a little friendly ribbing is all," Schmidt allayed their fears with his broad bearded smile as he pat each of them on their backs.
"No it's all right, it seems to be a popular conclusion with most people who meet us lately," Fenria replied first getting over her strange embarrassment about the idea.
"Yes, no harm done, though S-1050 and I are nothing more than comrades and very good friends," Jericus put in. "You tend to get close to your comrades in the Death Korps, more so in the Grenadiers, at least that's what the Watchmaster would like us to do."
Thinking on it Fenria knew he was right, if partially. After all it was only when they came under Watchmaster B-63's command that they were actively encouraged to get closer, to each other and any of their other squad-mates. Before that they had simply latched onto each other to get through the hellish training the Death Korps favored, secretly of course, the Korps did not tolerate that kind of co-dependence in general.
"Well tha's honestly good ta hear, sorely missing real camaraderie is in these times. Least where we've been, an' from past experience with the Death Korps I can't say you lot've ever given off an air of real compassion fer each other... eh no offense," Gunther waved his hand apologetically.
"Speakin' of past experience you lot don't sound like any Kriegers I've spoken to in the past, accents aren't right." Schmidt pointed out smartly.
"That's because we're not from Krieg. We were conscripted from Surris to replenish the regiment when they saved our world from orks, the Watchmaster and Corporal B-80 are from Baurin. F-920 from Faur-tertiary if I remember, and S-360 and S-548 are from Surris same as us," Fenria spoke clearly so as to be understood, it was common knowledge among the regiments, so she felt no need to hide it.
Schmidt adopted a slightly surprised look on his face, Gunther mirroring it. "Well, tha's right surprising, Death Korps usually get their reinforcements straight from home. Too... extreme for most other under-powered regiments ta be folded in with 'em, an' their training is usually too harsh for those not born on Krieg to undergo and come out sane," Schmidt responded.
The news gave rise to interest within Fenria's mind, they had heard snippets about the actual Kriegers and their world, even seen and been trained by a few. Though they had never gotten any concrete facts about them or their world other than what they had already known before being conscripted—nothing at all—or what they had heard from others aboard the Ipsum, and it didn't help that actual Kriegers were usually shored up in their own separate companies unless they were commanding the conscripts. Thus really they hardly knew a thing, Kriegers were as foreign to them as they were to the other regiments.
"Though let me tell you, you guys seem ta be jus' as good as actual Kriegers we've fought with, a little less unnervin' ta be 'round though. Take it they put ya through some right hell with the training yeah? Cause gotta say if it wasn't fer the accents and slightly less eerie dispositions I wouldn'ta known the difference, ain't tha' right Gunther," Schmidt stated.
"Aye I'm with ya on tha' Schmidt," Gunther responded.
"To answer you, yes the training was rather difficult, but the Korps are among the best regiments around and we came through it and fight for the 82nd proudly," Fenria heard Jericus lie through his teeth, though it sounded genuine. She knew though about his secret dislike for the Korps, even if he'd never said so, and even with the good people they'd met along the way in Watchmaster B-63 and the rest of the grenadiers.
"Hmm, I suppose tha's right there," Schmidt said sympathetically, as though he could see through Jericus' front. Gunther for his part remained silent, and the conversation seemed as though it was bound to die out, not from any negative feelings on either side, but simply because it was over for the moment.
It was at that point that the weapon-fire started to make itself known.
Graves had led his men through the corridors heading for the most important space of the installation, right where the invaders had gone to steal Endurholdgun's secrets. He had a mind not to let the bastards do it, the thought grew like a cancer in his mind along with his hatred. Along the way they had seen the dead bodies of their comrades who had died valiantly to protect Endurholdgun's secrets, each dead face fueling the fire within their hearts to utterly annihilate the invaders.
They had a good number advantage on the invaders having picked up a few more stray friendly squads that had been stationed further in the base and hadn't been able to participate in the stalling of the enemy forces. It put them almost at three platoons in terms of strength, around sixty men at his disposal him being the senior-most sergeant, the enemy, according to their comrades dying reports and a few bodies they had found along the way, only seemed to have at most two squads at most for their full strength.
In his mind it was now the final stretch, vengeance was very close at hand as they made their way down the ramp and past yet another group of their fallen comrades. Soon the door was in sight, the high-quality metal it had been fashioned from had been cut away and Graves could see the shapes of the invaders creating a barricade. A few of the invader lookouts began to shout to their own as they saw Graves and his sizable force coming their way, quickly getting behind their makeshift cover as they did so.
Normal combat doctrine for him and his men would have been to set up at a distance where the enemy weapons where less effective than their own and pick them off using precision fire while presenting as little target to the enemy as possible. But Graves was whipped into a frenzy, as where the rest of his men, their anger and superior numbers giving him a spark of inspiration. The invaders so liked close quarters combat, favored it in-fact as he had found in past experience.
Graves felt obliged to give the invaders a taste of their own medicine, so with a savage warcry he charged at the lead of his men. They followed behind him, howling as he had, an inhuman urge imparted on the whole force to shed the blood of the invaders in a single devastating melee of combat. They fired their deadly hyper-round weapons as they charged to the barricade, the enemy troopers in red shot back at them with what Graves could have recognized as archaic energy weaponry had he the mind to notice.
As he was though there was only rage and the desire to maim and kill, specifically one particular skull-faced invader. The invaders were very adept, minimizing their in-built desires to duck for cover as the deadly hail of hyper-rounds tore through the air toward them, some of which scored direct and deadly hits shearing heads and limbs from bodies. Graves and his men paid no mind o their own casualties—paltry losses to their minds—instead they closed the distance faster than the invaders had thought possible with still an impressive amount of men to continue their assault.
Crashing like waves over the barricade the Endurholdgun soldiery practically bowled over any storm-troopers that hadn't had the thought to give a little ground. These unfortunate troopers despite their best efforts were simply made pincushions as Endurholdgun knives stabbed into their bodies in frenzies of wanton violence. Graves continued to lead the attack from the front finding some hidden strength inside he had never felt or been able to wield before as he practically bashed aside any would be attacker with his weapon.
His skin felt like it was crawling, his very body as though it were about to burst with the pent up foreign energy. It was a slightly unwelcome feeling, but Graves found himself past the point of caring as he continued to fight.
Even with their superior numbers and battle frenzy the Endurholdgun troopers still found trouble with the very experienced and effective storm-troopers who manged to fight them toe to toe with brutal grace and efficiency. Graves watched as the rest of the invaders in the room began to join the red-clad men he had been killing, one in particular catching his eye as the skull-face waded into the melee wielding an axe and knife.
Graves face contorted into even further blind fury as he fought with renewed vigor to get to his target, he would make the bastard pay, for his world, for his family, he swore it.
Jericus had watched as first enemy weapons-fire had poured through the opening to the STC in such quantities that it made his hand twitch in nervousness for what was sure to be a bloody and drawn out firefight. He was very much surprised when the enemy came crashing over the barricade setup by the storm-troopers and overran the position with sheer numbers alone, their feral disposition making both human and xenos faces in the crowd look like creatures from a nightmare.
It was quickly ascertained by all that the battle would be one fought up close, usually a prospect that brought confidence based on prior experience, but the way the enemy looked... it didn't bring any solace whatsoever. Watchmaster B-63 along with B-80, and F-920 moved past him shouting, urging him to ready himself to enter the fray, Fenria was to stay back to provide precision fire and defend the Inquisitor who seemed to wish not to participate in the battle as he calmly watched it unfold. The rest of the squad seemed to have been ordered to stay back and defend Kerelia as she continued to work despite the battle raging not too far away from her.
The Inquisitor's agents joined them for the battle, Aryn already batting enemies left and right with his strength, Schmidt and Gunther flanked the Arbitrator as she began to bash in enemy skulls with her power-maul. While the other Guardswoman stayed back with Fenria to provide more precision fire and guard the Inquisitor. Getting to his senses Jericus drew his power-axe and dagger activating the runes and sheathing the weapons in matter-disrupting energies and ran head-over-teakettle into the fray.
Immediately his reflexes and training kicked in as he hooked and stabbed a charging enemy, the dagger going through the xenos' skull easily before being withdrawn. Next he buried the axe-head into the chest of another enemy as the man came at him wrenching it out easily through the man's side and leaving a clean cut through his entire chest cavity. Jericus could barely keep up with the way the enemy threw themselves at him, it took even more effort to make sure he didn't accidentally hit his own comrades in the frantic melee.
Even still he was carving a path through all that came before him, the enemy may have been in a battle-rage but their attacks were sloppy as had been his experience fighting them before in other battles. Hence why the Guard tried desperately to close with them for close-quarters.
"Skull-face!"
The almost mad bellow reached his ears even over the cacophony of combat, it came from behind him and it was a near thing that he had managed to turn in time to deflect the bayonet thrust with the shaft of his axe. It was then that Jericus found himself staring into a familiar face as the furious visage of Sergeant Graves greeted him. The man looked possessed.
"How the keck are you alive," Jericus grunted out as he went for a sideways swing with his axe. The strike was caught by Graves, the man having miraculously avoided the matter-disrupting energy sheathing the head and caught the shaft with his weapon. Instead of saying anything Graves seemed to just growl as he brought the butt of his weapon forward to smash Jericus in the face. Jericus for his part brought the dagger up just in time to have the energy-sheathed blade cut through the middle of the weapons stock. It helped to minimize the force of the impact as Graves hold on the bottom end of the stock eased though still sending it flying into Jericus face.
The blow staggered him causing Graves to also lose his lock with his axe. Recovering quickly Jericus watched as Graves quickly pulled his bayonet from his now useless weapon and throw the ruined remains directly at him forcing him to sidestep the flying hunk of weapon. Graves used the distraction to draw a second combat knife and charge while Jericus was off-balance coming in for an underhanded thrust.
Jericus saw his opportunity and used his own knife to meet Graves, though he froze, stupefied for a split-second as nothing happened, well at least nothing like what he expected. Instead of cutting through Graves own blade like hot butter the power-dagger was stopped cold, and though its matter-disrupting energy was still glowing noticeably it made no progress in cutting through the metal of Graves own weapon.
Not letting the shock stun him for long he managed to block a downward stab from Graves bayonet catching the descending wrist with his axe's shaft. Graves didn't give up the attack though as he headbutted Jericus sending him reeling back and out of their grapple. Recovering yet again Jericus found himself on the defensive from Graves wild and nigh unpredictable strikes, though the man had split his forehead open on the lip of Jericus' helmet he didn't seem bothered by the blood streaming into his eyes, or blinded as most would be for that matter. If anything Jericus reckoned it was driving Graves will to attack him even faster and stronger than before.
They ducked, weaved and threw strikes at each other, only to go back and forth in terms of who had the upper hand, but where Jericus began to tired from the constant onslaught Graves only seemed to plow on through not once slowing in his attacks. Finally Jericus saw an actual opening bringing his axe up in a vicious underhanded strike and lopping Graves right hand off at the wrist.
Though instead of the effect such a blow would have on most anyone else Graves merely howled and drove the bloody stump in a straight blow to Jericus' chest. With inhuman strength the blow sent Jericus flying back several feet to land on his back. Before he could even right himself Jericus heard the beginnings of a tormented howl that sent shivers racing up and down his spine. The sound seemed to reverberate in his very mind, and soon all in the room began to quiet as the enemy so frenzied beforehand stopped fighting at the same time as his comrades to look toward what could make such a frightening noise.
Finally looking up Jericus saw a sight that was very unnerving indeed, Graves head thrown up toward the ceiling continued to howl, his voice carrying on in tones not meant to come from a mere mortals vocal cords. But what really continued to hold everyone in place was what seemed to be a sickening aura of crackling purple energy radiating from Graves' form. Finally ceasing his tormented howl the silence that followed only served to put everyone more on edge as a feeling of wrongness began to permeate the very air.
Graves head turned down from his staring match with the ceiling to reveal that his eyes were no longer there, instead crackling purple energy seemed to radiate out from them. Looking to his stump his gave a grin fit for an insane asylum and then his flesh began to contort the stump becoming a wickedly clawed hand. Slowly his gaze lifted from his new appendage and began to wander around the room taking in the stillness of everyone before finally settling again on Jericus as he stared right back.
The stillness lasted for a few more moments as everyone watched to see how it would all play out. Finally it was broken as an enemy trooper broke the now cleared out circle around both Jericus and Graves, cautiously and fearfully approaching the Sergeant who kept unwavering focus on Jericus.
"S-s-sir?"
The man's question hung in the air as the stillness before it had, lasting quite a bit too long for the situation to be normal. Without looking Graves frightening new hand shot forward and made a gesture at the trooper who had deigned to speak to him. Instantly the man seemed to implode before being expelled outwards, all that made him up spattering in a perfect circle only for it to seemingly start evaporating as the same energy that surrounded Graves began to swell from a pinpoint of purple energy that had been where the man's torso was previously.
It grew to roughly the size of the man who had been used to make it until it stayed stable, it was then that what Jericus could only think of as daemon spawn began to seemingly spill forth from the opening. The twisted and monstrous forms began to attack any that were close by cutting into Imperial and Endurholdgun alike.
Their wits finally returned the once mortal enemies began to fight side by side against the new horrifying threat. All the while the circle around Jericus and Graves remained as the warp-spawn and those they fought seemed to unconsciously stay outside the bounds of it. The Graves-thing smiled a too wide smile at Jericus as he finally got to his feet to face the abomination. The skin around its mouth ripping to accommodate the vicious rictus grin, its teeth seemed to form into points of their own volition.
"Jericus Quint, you are known to us through our mutual friend. Were it not for him you would have stayed beyond our ken to see, but now we have come to test your mettle," the Graves-thing talked as though it were a bad attempt at a ventriloquism act, the words and tone didn't seem to match the movement of the lips and mouth.
Jericus didn't stop to consider the obvious implications of the situation, instead opting for what he had been trained to do, attack, and attack with sudden and brutal force. He closed the distance between him and the Graves-thing bringing his axe down in a lightning fast overhead chop. The thing merely caught the energy-sheathed blade, the disruptive energies slowly doing a minuscule amount of damage, though not anywhere near what they should.
"He was right, you do seem to jump right to the point. Why I wonder though? Usually mortals fear me quite a bit, though your... unique condition may render you immune to some of our machinations you surely know that you are not immune to our more physical powers in this plane," it toyed with him. "Look around blank, do you think even you will be able to survive this?" It gestured at the assault of warp-spawn that seemed to have finally abated from pouring through the now shrinking portal, though there were still many of the abominations, enough to be a serious problem.
Jericus noted that at least his comrades along with the Endurholdgun troopers were holding out in the now even more frantic melee, though only by so little. Ripping his focus away from that he pulled himself back distancing himself from the thing in front of him and holding his weapons out at the ready.
"Still nothing to say? What a pity," the Graves-thing instantly lunged toward him its hands a flurry of motion. Jericus found himself even more hard pressed to keep up with the attacks, he could only see after-images with is human eye, though his augmetics were thankfully allowing him to keep up with the speed of the attacks. His optic allowed him to actually track the frighteningly fast strikes while his arm could relate that information and keep up with them if only barely.
Though at best that meant he was literally only able to fight with one arm, and couldn't get in any attacks of his own lest he wanted to completely open himself up for death. Finally the Graves-thing scored a hit, its wicked clawed hand tearing into Jericus' armored left side as though it weren't there. Though he did notice its hand immediately recoil from his body once the blow was landed as though burned. It took as few steps back, meanwhile Jericus noted they were still left alone within their own personal circle.
"It would appear your abilities are a bit stronger than he had said they would be blank. Though make no mistake that will not stop me from rending your dull soul from its shell!" Its tone became even more menacing if it were possible as it again began to warp Graves former body.
The limbs contorted into more combat efficient shapes for more speed as the remaining normal left hand shaped itself into another wickedly clawed appendage. Its new form seemed to jerk around as though it were holding itself back from going in every direction at once. Graves was still frighteningly recognizable through all of the mutations his tattered and stretched uniform and armor barely conforming to him anymore.
And suddenly he was right in front of Jericus and his attack gouged another bit from his body as claws made contact with vulnerable armor and flesh, this time the thing had struck at his chest the claws creating slices on the right side. Recoiling again as it met Jericus' flesh the Graves-thing screeched inhumanly and grabbed Jericus by his head, flinging him away and sending him crashing into a storm-trooper who had just finished dealing with a spawn.
The storm-trooper was the first to get up from the heap they found themselves in only to be skewered through his abdomen by the Graves-thing's claws. It threw the trooper's struggling form to the side like a rag-doll and advanced toward Jericus for the killing blow.
F-920 was fighting his way through the horrors he found himself surrounded by, enemy troopers even helping him as he blasted spawn left and right with his meltagun. It was at a moment of brief respite that he happened to glance toward the clear circle and witness the sight of Jericus being thrown through the air by the abomination that had started it all. F-920 felt a surge of purpose course through him, staring at what would no doubt be another comrade's demise he couldn't stop himself from acting.
Thus he found himself plowing his way through the crowd of fighting bodies, batting aside attacks made by spawn and confused ally alike and blasting any spawn that made to attack him into oblivion to get to his comrade and try to help him. Breaking through he finally charged the thing as it was almost upon Jericus, his meltagun had run dry so he dropped it to the ground and drew his bayonet, he moved faster than he had at anytime before in his life bayonet poised to go through the thing's neck for whatever good it would do.
Not two steps from achieving his goal the thing's abnormally long arm seemed to shoot out of its own volition, wicked long claws speared through his torso and lifted him off his feet. Its face, an unnatural caricature of a human's grinned at him as he dropped his bayonet and the life began to leave him.
"Not fast enough mortal," it cooed at him.
"I've got one more trick, this is for F-888," F-920 thought as he pulled the pin on one of the krak-grenades hanging from his webbing. He then latched onto the things arm with all that he was worth as its grin melted from its face at what he had just done.
F-920 died with a smile on his face as the Graves-thing attempted to throw him away from it, the krak-grenade went off taking his life and its right arm seconds later.
Jericus had watched helpless as F-920 sacrificed himself to wound the Graves-thing, the backwash from the grenade keeping him down on the ground. He was lucky it had been a krak-grenade designed to direct a focused blast, in this case luckily away from him. He raised his head to behold the still standing form of the Graves-thing sans right arm, F-920 had been thrown away by the blast a good portion of him now simply gone.
It recovered very quickly from the loss of its arm the limb even starting to come back slowly as it again advanced upon Jericus.
"Nothing more than a nuisance, dead and forgotten by this vast galaxy," it commented lowly as it finally stopped to deliver the final blow.
Raising its remaining hand above its head it suddenly found the appendage missing, a hail of exotic energy having ripped it from existence. It shrieked in anger turning to whoever else had dared attack it only to find itself face to barrel with Inquisitor Dauntless' strange pistol. The Inquisitor wasted no time in putting another round into the abomination's face nigh obliterating it and sending its form sprawling. Jericus watched as Dauntless advanced grim-faced under his wide-brimmed hat upon the Graves-thing as it seemed to start slowly regenerating its wounds.
He gave it no chance as he fired round after round into its body chanting in high-Gothic litanies all the while, the abomination squealed as the rounds struck and took abnormally huge gouges from its body. All the while it writhed jerking backwards away from the advancing Inquisitor and his holy wrath, finally running out of ammo for the weapon Dauntless drew his sword. The blade glowed a brilliant azure as it powered up, he wasted no time carving up the remains of the shrieking entity as it lay impotently on the ground.
Finally the Graves-thing seemed to die, one final haunting shriek from its barely there mouth signaling its end, and the end of the battle. Dauntless sheathed his sword and holstered his pistol, muttering a few final prayers as he turned and walked calmly toward Jericus' still fallen form offering a hand up once he reached him. Jericus hesitantly took the offer holstering his own weapons to do so, ignoring the pain from his wounds as he was hauled to his feet by the Inquisitor.
The Inquisitor looked him up and down taking in his wounds with a calculating look in his eyes and a steel in his spine. Jericus felt incredibly uncomfortable with the impromptu inspection.
"Not bad," Dauntless said enigmatically before turning away and making his way toward the pedestal toward what looked to be a distraught Magos Chevel. The troopers left alive from the battled parted for the man as he made his way through. Any spawn lay dead and disintegrating on the ground, while the dead bodies of both friend and foe alike numbered too many
Any Endurholdgun troopers left—and there weren't many at all—were surrendering to the Imperials around them, not able to cope with what they had just endured and unwilling to continue fighting. Jericus held his wounds, they would scar no doubt, but they were thankfully superficial at the worst, none of the thing's attacks having gotten too deep.
Looking around he found himself to be a matter of interest as the remaining Endurholdgun survivors, Inquisitorial agents and even the storm-troopers seemed to stare at his battered form. He saw B-63 approaching him slowly, his Watchmaster seemed to have a bit of a limp as he approached, finally stopping not too far away, holding his new plasma-pistol still venting heat idly to the side.
"S-1049, are you alright?" he asked straightforward.
"A little beat up Watchmaster, but still fit for duty," Jericus responded evenly despite what he had just been through, pausing before continuing. "Watchmaster F-920..."
B-63 nodded solemnly. "I know S-1049 he will be missed, he died valiantly, his debt has been repaid. As has B-80's," the last part was added in barely a whisper.
Before Jericus could ask how the Corporal had died B-63 cut him off. "Come on we should see what's what with the rest of the squad, I don't know how they fared, too busy fighting abominations."
B-63 walked away, leaving Jericus no choice but to follow him his thoughts on F-920, and now B-80. Though the thought that sprung to the forefront of his mind was if Fenria was alright, the Watchmaster had said he didn't know and Jericus found himself suddenly obsessing over the fact. Walking through the crowd of survivors they parted for the two grenadiers as they had for the Inquisitor before them, giving adequate space to get through.
As he emerged from the sparse crowd Jericus found himself relieved to see that Fenria was indeed okay, having been back during the beginning of the battle she and the Inquisitor agent Guardswoman had been relatively safe from the fight. Though a trail of dead bodies both Endurholdgun and dusty remnants of warp spawn indicated that they had indeed fought, and rather hard at that.
"S-1049," Fenria commented as he came into earshot. Her gaze took in his wounds with obvious worry and she made her way over to him to get a closer look. "You should have S-360 take a look at those as soon as you can," she commented lowly.
"He will S-1050, but first I'd like you two to accompany me to see what's going on," B-63 promised already looking toward the direction of S-360, S-548, and the Inquisitor. Their forms were gathered around Kerelia who seemed to be the worse for wear at the moment despite no visible damage. S-360 despite small knowledge in treated heavily augmented individuals was tending to the Magos as best she could, though that amounted to holding the cog-girl up on the floor.
B-63 was quick to kneel down and help keep Kerelia steady as he got to where she was. "Kerelia what's wrong? You don't seem to have been hit by anything," his concern for the cog-girl who usually seemed to irritate him was palpable. B-63 even went so far as to pat the tech-preistess down for any wounds.
"The data..." she paused collecting herself. "When that thing came into being the data in the STC started to become corrupted. It was all I could do to save what I had already let alone disconnect in time for the corruption not to affect me myself. The sudden disconnect gave me a bit of damage is all, I'll be able to bounce back soon."
"Good, then you'll still be around to bring bad luck upon me," B-63 responded with a relieved chuckle.
Kerelia let out a genuine laugh. "Heh, wouldn't dream of leaving you just yet 63."
Dauntless cleared his throat to get attention on him, everyone focused on Kerelia and B-63 turned to the powerful man. "Magos, do you believe there to be any way to salvage the data? If not how much have you been able to glean from the STC before the corruption?"
"There's no way to salvage the data Inquisitor, believe me if any adept were to try their mind would be driven insane in an instant. As for what I was able to get... the food production methods, and an incomplete template for the enemies advanced armor, I'm sorry its not so much at all, not compared to what we could have had." Kerelia responded glumly, her frustration seeping through the air.
"That's alright Magos, it's new technology we didn't have before, and that's at least something, it's just a shame we came this far for so little," Dauntless sighed. "Lieutenant Virtanen, I believe the Captain is no longer with us get the men gathered have them leave the bodies and set charges, I want this place to be destroyed."
"Inquisitor with respect I'd like to collect our own dead..." Dauntless' cut B-63 off with a gesture.
"I'm afraid Watchmaster that will be out of the question, we have all just come into contact with entities of the warp. The proper precautions must be taken, the dead will be burn or otherwise destroyed, and I'm going to have to have all including myself tested for warp corruption once we get back to my base of operations." He stated with utter conviction.
"But my lord," B-63 tried again.
"What did I tell you about that title Watchmaster?" Dauntless cut him off again before continuing. "I won't say it again you've heard my orders please you and your squad escort Magos Chevel to the exit, Gunther and Schmidt will go along with you. I along with the rest of my retinue shall be along shortly, please wait for us while we do the necessary tasks."
"Yes Inquisitor," B-63 responded his voice becoming monotone and automatic. "S-360 help me with the Magos please, the rest of you heard the Inquisitor follow along."
Jericus looked on at the events forlornly, he understood the Watchmaster placed a great value on comrades, as did they all, so it must have been very hard to not even be able to even dispose of one of his owns bodies himself. Fenria helped steady him as they walked following the Watchmaster, S-548 along with them and Gunther and Schmidt following at the sides of the group to keep an eye on them. Meanwhile the Lieutenant and the remaining storm-troopers went about thoroughly setting charges around the room, they varied from thermo-charges meant to take care of the bodies to more explosive ones made to bring down the structure.
Jericus watched as B-63 forced himself to look past what he could now see was the body of B-80 lying in a pool of his own blood, a ragged hole punched through his chest, whether from a spawns claw or and enemy troopers hyper-round it was hard to say. Jericus himself pushed the thoughts aside in favor of better memories of the often upbeat Corporal. As he passed the remains of F-920 he couldn't help the twinge of regret that bit at his insides, and again tried to find solace by pushing thoughts of his comrades deaths away.
The whole squad—what remained of it—had the same beaten look about everyone, they had been through a very tough day, and it still seemed far from over even as they approached the exit of the STC.
A/N: Alright I would like to thank all who have favorited, alerted and reviewed thus far, almost at fifty reviews as of last chapter and I very much appreciate the input and support. I would include shout-outs but my internet is being a pain so my apologies for their lack in this note. Kindly review if you please this chap was pretty major to the plot so feedback will be very appreciated. See you all in a week at most two.
300-709.