The march to the mountains was as grueling as Valdar and Casimir had expected, but the little aliens had a crucial advantage over any other tribes trying to flee.
That advantage was the two necrons. Having no real need for sleep, beyond a mere hour once in a while, they could keep watch while the xenos slept. They had better sensors than the aliens could own and spot any trouble long before it arrived.
Beyond that, while one of them watched over the sleeping tribe, the other could go hunt. Valdar did that, using his sling with deadly effect and often bringing back game. Then he would skin and dress it, so it would be ready to be eaten when the xenos awoke. They preferred their meat cooked, but they could also eat it raw. That gave them the critical advantage of being able to keep their dried meat for later, when they reached the mountains. There would not be much game there.
For the first three days, Casimir carried the oldest xenos in the tribe. Her hair fronds dull and faded, her skin deeply spotted with age, she was not particularly important to the tribe and would surely have been left behind if not for his actions. And really, who could fault them? She was so much heavier than the children and had little time left.
Then, on the fourth day, Casimir felt like his heart might break.
"Do not take me. Take them," the old xenos said, pointing to an exhausted young mother. Casimir turned to look… she had been blessed with twins, two children who were perhaps six years old, by human standards. Too small to keep up with this trek yet heavy when carried, the whole tribe was helping to carry them, despite the strain on them. The mother herself was exhausted beyond endurance… she tried to help but with horrendously bad timing, there was a new bud on her back. This was their natural life cycle, this was the point where another child made sense, if disaster had not fallen on them.
"Are you sure…?" Casimir said, looking at the old alien. She gazed back at him with preternatural calm and Casimir knew she had chosen to die.
"I am sure," she said with perfect assurance and Casimir took her hands, giving her a gentle squeeze.
"May the Maker hold you gently," Casimir murmured and her hair frond twisted in the way he had come to recognize as their version of a smile. Ah, it made him want to cry, if only he could. Pushing aside that painful emotion, Casimir let go of her hands and went to the young family. The young mother looked at him in confusion as he knelt, opening his arms. "I will carry them," he said and she looked at the old one, who was closing her eyes and going back to sleep. Then she glanced around, looking for Horosska or Yasska. Yasska had watched it all, and gave her a firm nod.
"I… I see… Spethkesshra, Rosska, here…" she gently chivvied her littles to him and while they were a bit afraid, they went and Casimir lifted them easily, one in either arm. Then the march to the mountains began again… the grasslands were starting to change, turning into hills, so they were getting closer.
This day, the encountered another tribe, but they were not violent. If there had been other tribes in the first three days, they had just avoided or missed them, but this one wanted to talk.
"What is happening? What is on fire? What are those?" Questions were shouted as the xenos pointed at Valdar. Horosska yelled back.
"Destroyers of Life have come to the World and are burning the plains. Go to the mountains, hide there and help might come. If you stay, they will kill you. These are Silver People, they come from the stars, their kin might come to help us." The tribe kept moving, not stopping, and the other xenos vanished. Hopefully this tribe would heed them… Valdar glanced the way they had come, hearing one of the xenos cough.
The smoke in the air was impressive, but not as frightening as the great cloud bank of smoke that was forming behind them. Lightning could be seen in it and Valdar wouldn't be surprised if it was causing a terrible, ashen rain, partly acidic. What the Destroyers were doing was the brute force method to destroy organic life and it was horrifying.
The next day, they began truly reaching the trees. Valdar thought of them as trees, although they were actually more like gigantic ferns, better adapted to cold than the smaller ferns of the grasslands. As they travelled higher and things became colder, the little xenos opened their packs and brought out heavier clothing and blankets that looked oddly rubbery to Valdar. They also slept in groups, sharing body warmth. Although, that led to something rather amusing.
"No, you should not stay with me, I am not warm. Sleep with your mother," Casimir gently encouraged the children to leave him. They just clung more tightly, looking at him with limpid eyes.
"You will keep us safe," One of them said and Casimir felt deeply touched. Many of the little aliens were a bit standoffish – understandably so, they sometimes felt the Silver People had brought this on them – but not the children.
"I can keep you safe from many things, but not the cold. Come, your mother is by the fire," Casimir gently chivvied them to their mother, who smiled with her hair and patted both her children on the head before offering them a bit of food. It was fresh, meat from the previous night's kill and they ate it hungrily.
We need to save them, Casimir said to Valdar, feeling it so deeply. They needed to save this small xenos race. They were precious and unique, like all the life in the universe, and they deserved to live. They were trying so hard to live.
We can only do what we can, Valdar said, always hard headed and practical. Watch over them as I hunt. Casimir nodded. Valdar was so good at that… the sling wasn't good for hunting for the little aliens but with the strength of a necron, he could stun or kill large animals with it.
Tonight, though, Valdar couldn't find any large animals. The fronds did not lend themselves to that and it seemed none of them had fled in this direction. Instead, he came back with some small flying beasts that reminded Casimir of bats, and some other odd little things that looked like wild fluff balls. Casimir stared at them dubiously before realizing there was actually a body beneath the wild proliferation of fronds.
Horosska was grim but unsurprised when she saw this night's catch.
"Near the mountains, hunting is poor. That is why no tribes live here," she said, taking the animals. "We must cook these, they can carry illness," she said, gesturing to the bat things. "We will not take time for that now… we will do it tonight." Then she wrapped a leather cord around the bats, stringing them up and adding them to her pack. "The others can be eaten raw." Horosska called over the children and let them have the fresh meat, as the adults ate sparingly, just a bit of jerky. They all knew food was going to be a problem soon. They all also ate a little bit of their precious salt, the other major problem… fortunately the bodies of animals had some salt, but they needed more to stay healthy. Valdar knew that wasn't going to be what killed them, though. Deprivation of salt could lead to death, but it took roughly a year and had stages of illness, like a protracted vitamin deficiency. The xenos could only live a few weeks without food.
This time, as they walked, Valdar paid close attention to the trees and managed to kill two more of the bats. They were added to the pack and for supper, there was more jerky as the bats were put in a copper pot for the next day. Casimir kept the fire under them burning, and made sure the water was topped up. Fortunately water wasn't a problem, they were following a creek now. It surely came from the mountains.
The next morning, they had bat soup and it was light but nourishing. Despite how tired they all were, there was a spring in the aliens' step… they could see the mountains, now, even through the trees. They were getting close.
That meant things began getting rougher, though. The next night a storm kicked up and they had to fix blankets of leather to the trees, to act as a wind break. The little xenos huddled together, cold and miserable as they tried to sleep without a fire. Valdar tried hunting game, but could find nothing… the other animals were also huddling in their dens, waiting out this bad weather.
Fortunately the storm passed by morning, but everyone was tired and uncomfortable. One particular, older xenos was huddled on the ground and seemed unable to move. Her hair fronds were tight to her head and she looked like she was in deep distress.
"We have a fire, try to warm yourself," Casimir gently encouraged her and she shook her head.
"I can't move… dizzy…" she said softly and he hesitated a moment before gently putting an arm around her.
"Let me carry you to the fire." He gently brought her to the fire and held her as close as he could, without burning her. Her hair seemed to relax a little as she warmed, and the sun also began to warm her, just a bit. Mornings were cold even when the sun began to shine, unfortunately. "Valdar, can you carry her?" She was never going to be able to walk. Valdar hesitated a moment before nodding.
"There really are no enemies here, it should be fine." After they had eaten a little, Valdar gently picked up the exhausted xenos. Casimir took the children again, nodding at their mother's quiet thanks. Slowly this time, they began their trek again.
Only an hour later, though, Casimir realized something was very wrong. The older xenos was gently resting against Valdar's chest, her face resting on his shoulder and she could have been sleeping but… her eyes were half open and unblinking.
"Valdar," Casimir said urgently. "Is she…?" Valdar turned to look at him, then looked at the xenos on his shoulder. He gently shook her before calling to Horosska and Yasska. He gently set her on the ground and they quickly came over. A check confirmed his suspicions.
"She has passed on… we will take the time to observe the rituals," Yasska said and Horosska nodded, her fronds laying flat to her head. Casimir knew that was a sign of deep distress. "It is too wet for burning, so we will cover her with fronds. Children, help us gather them."
The little xenos gathered up fronds, taken from the 'trees', and used them to gently cover the body. Then Yasska spoke over the corpse, a prayer to the Maker, commending her soul to the Maker's hands. This time, they were not asked to leave and Casimir clasped his hands together, feeling deeply saddened. She must have already been sick, likely some ailment of the old, and that hard night in the rain had been the final push.
For their march, this was also the final push. As they truly moved into the mountains, they began searching for cave formations. Valdar and Casimir were both very useful for that… as surveyors, they knew rocks and natural formations quite well and led them to the areas most likely to have caves. The first they rejected, as being too shallow but the second was perfect.
"It goes very deep. It is frightening!" Ssren said and Valdar tilted his head, a bit amused. Although these xenos did not see well in the dark at all so the darkness of a cave would be intimidating.
"There is water there," Horosska said, more practical. "I think this one is good." Valdar nodded.
"I think so as well." That decided, they began setting up in their new home. The cave was cold and clammy but Valdar knew the temperature inside it would be invariable compared to outside… never warm, but also never very cold. Along with a fire and it should be habitable. They had some 'wood', kept try in packs, and they started the fire as hunters went out to gather more wood. They could dry it for a time before using it. Valdar and Casimir went out to hunt. They needed to keep the preserved food as untouched as possible, for when it was truly needed.
That night they had very great fortune indeed. A thick, large creature targeted them, thinking they were food. Casimir took an impressive bite, that tore apart his necrodermis but just scuttled over the harder mechanisms beneath, before they were able to kill it. It was purely cosmetic damage and Casimir looked at it for a moment, watching the living metal flowing back together with a speed that was slow but visible, like molasses oozing out of a jar. In a few short minutes, ten at the most, it would completely repair itself. Casimir quietly marveled at it… the miracles of nanites were truly amazing.
(the STC of Hope had plans for the human equivalent of Living Metal, but because it was a fairly early STC, the material was still in beginning stages of research and distinctly inferior to the necron version)
(as such, it had been completely abandoned in favor of necron technology)
When they took the beast back to the cave, the xenos reacted with alarm and interest. None of them had ever seen this creature before and began exploring it curiously. Horosska finally identified it as a Nokosha, although she had only heard of it, not seen it.
"They eat anything… meat, carrion, even fruits. They say they sleep in the winter," she said and Casimir nodded. It sounded like a bear. "They are edible, but must be stewed. Also, do not eat the organs, there is something wrong with them." Really? Some kind of poison?
"Well, there is plenty of meat. We will eat well for a time," Yasska said and the aliens began preparing the meat, skinning and gutting the beast and getting out the stewing pot. Casimir estimated that they would be feasting on stew for roughly four days, from this kill. And that was very good.
Eventually, the fires would move too close for hunting as the Destroyers came dangerously close. They needed to catch as much as they could before they were forced to retreat into the deep caves.
Arielle sighed internally as she watched a high level Cryptek having what she wanted to characterize as a nervous breakdown.
Imotekh had taken her wishes into account and despite her worth on Antioch, ceded her to the Thokt Dynasty. Arielle and four other pwi-necron Crypteks had made the trip. One of them was like herself, fleeing bad memories for the cold sterility of a land that could support nothing organic. Of the other three, two were just adventurous, interested in seeing new things. The last was… bloodthirsty. Once a field engineer for a unit called the Death Seekers, he was impatient to see death again and had chosen this method to go quickly back to war. And he had done so, immediately… Phaeron Onryx was more than willing to use him so, and he had been assigned to join the war on the Mechanicus.
Arielle and the other three had been assigned directly to the Illustrious Ethermancer Anakosar. Also sometimes known, behind his back, as Anakosar the Nervous. He more than earned that name and Arielle glumly suspected all the pwi-necrons had been assigned to him in the (faint) hope that they might tolerate his personality better. This had to be utterly maddening for true necrons
"We can never do it! Never! The supplies haven't arrived, I have half the scarabs I need! Yet the Phaeron will brook no excuse! I might as well rupture my own core now!" That caught Arielle's attention because it was the first time in this long, hysterical rant that Anakosar had threatened self-harm. She did not think he was remotely serious but still, it was time to break him out of this.
"Anakosar, enough," Arielle said with perfect firmness, catching his flailing hands in a gentle yet unyielding grasp. Anakosar stared at her, taken aback that one of his subordinates would so dare to touch him. Yet for all he was above her, Arielle was confident in herself. "My people have a story of a great chef in service to a King. On the eve of a banquet, he needed a shipment of fish, to make all the perfect dishes the King would enjoy and he despaired because it had not come. He ran himself through with a sword… and just an hour later, the fish arrived." Arielle paused, her single ocular meeting his. "The moral of this story is twofold… to not take rash actions, and you have not failed until you have failed. Let us do what we can to make the Phaeron's wishes a reality." There were things they could do, even without all that they needed.
"But we don't have… we don't…" Anakosar glanced around and Arielle could almost see his mind rebooting, looking for solutions instead of problems. "We can begin the foundation of the great work… yes, we can get started…" Good, this was what they needed. "Arielle! Take the scarabs and begin the foundation preparation!" She immediately moved to obey and Anakosar began snapping orders to the others.
Directing them much like a maestro directing an orchestra, they were soon hard at work. The supplies did arrive, if a bit late and the Lord delivering them got quite an earful about it. Arielle noticed that his eyes were dim as Anakosar yelled at him and she thought he was disconnecting his mind from reality, focusing on something vastly more interesting than the high strung Cryptek. The delay probably hadn't been under his control anyway… Arielle disregarded the scene, though, concentrating hard on her work. By her internal time table, they were a bit behind but should be able to catch up and produce a miracle on schedule.
The electrical storm these arrays would produce would put Zeus to shame.
"Well, that was quite tragic."
"…" Arielle looked mournfully at the shred of fabric in her hand before letting it go, flying away on a spectral breeze. "It is a minor thing," she said, although truthfully, she didn't feel it. Anakosar tilted his head to one side, looking at her inquisitively.
"It doesn't seem like it." Well… perhaps it wasn't, but there was no point in complaining. Arielle knew that, and certainly wasn't going to pitch a fit over it.
Still, it stung a bit that her cloak hadn't survived the activating of the array. The energies when standing close were completely harmless to necrons but her cloak had gone up in a puff of smoke, catching fire and burning with a shocking brilliance before simply fading away. The only piece to survive had been a tiny bit she had grabbed, in her shocked reaction. The pin fixed to it had survived as well, although it was a touch blackened. But the fires had not been hot, merely swift and sudden.
"That cloak had no particular sentimental value, it was not given to me, I merely enjoyed it. Perhaps it is time to make a change," Arielle said after a moment's thought. "I could easily procure a new cloak from the Mechanicus and dye it, but I think perhaps I should turn to metal." It wouldn't be quite the same, woven metal 'fabric' was impractical for daily use, the kind of thing Necrons used for special occasions. Instead… "A metal hood, and my current plaques." Her stole of bronze plaques had easily survived the conflagration. With a hood like Trazyn wore, with her new sigil of the Thokt Dynasty affixed to it, she would be presentable. "Perhaps a few more plaques." She liked the way the cloak had completely hidden her body but if she was turning to metal, that would have to be abandoned. Anakosar made glyphs indicating a bit of pleasure at the thought.
"That would be ideal. Forgive me, that cloak made you look a bit too much like a Mechanicus." Yes, she could see that. The only real difference had been the color. But then, a cloak was a cloak, they had little variety in appearance. "Well, you had done excellently well. All of you, excellent work! Now, lets start tearing it down!" Ah yes, the final stage of this operation. Arielle went to work, ignoring the smell of burnt flesh that was carried on the wind. That really hadn't gone well for the skitarii forces. That was the nature of war, however, and Arielle knew where her loyalties lie.
She would do her best for her new Dynasty.
