"I didn't survive this long to get bushwhacked by a thunderhawk with Daddy Issues!" I snarled out, sprinting, or rather willing my pseudo-machine spirit to sprint after the cackling daemon engine.
Krata, already fighting off swarms of nuisance fighters, wasn't quick enough to counter the rushing daemon engine. It raked its claws across her belly and the sound of screeching metal filled my ears.
"Foul PEST! BEGONE!" Krata roared, swinging her sword in a dreadful arc around her.
Instantly my mind is filled with the vision of the Krata's main form firing off barrages from its macro-cannon batteries, the Heldrake darting between streams of fire, all the while it's spirit cackled madly.
"You'll have to be faster than that, Princess!" The mad thing cackled, ducking a swipe from one of Keth's fighters, gleefully chittering as its clawed fingers tore the throat out of the young machine spirit.
I watched as that child clutched at his throat, blood spurting from between his fingers as that thing laughed as if he cut open a watermelon. Rage boiled beneath my skin as I let out a violent roar, rushing forward.
—
"Ubrin Fury Interceptor Destroyed! Heretic Destroyer has been damaged but is still operational." The voice of Lieutenant Kent rang through the Bridge of the Krata as Raya, Anya, Lieutenant Al'Nagara and Sister Lena all stood around a holographic display of the battle.
"Deploy additional fighters, focus efforts on the heretic fighters, leave the battleships to Zacchaeus, Soline, and the Blood Ravens. We're being swarmed." Anya, acting as David's second, ordered, sending runners scurrying to get it done.
"That damn Heldrake is darting in and out of our Voidshields. It's knocked out four of our Macro Cannons with its last pass." Yanbel growled, mechadendrites twitching in an irritated manner.
"Ma'am, we could be put to better use-" Zacchaeus' voice protested in the vox for a split second only.
"Do not question my orders, Zacchaeus! You're piloting a bomber. Not a dog fighter. Your target is the Assault Barque Mercy's End. Destroy it." Anya stamped out the insubordination coming through the Vox without hesitation, earning a nod from the other Lieutenants and Raya.
"…by the Emperor's Will, Lady Anya." Zacchaeus' response is growled out and resigned, but the holographic designation for the B-52 moved into an attack run trajectory.
"Have we received communication from either the Blood Ravens or the Navis Imperialis Warship?" Raya spoke for the first time in the meeting, David's unconscious body twitching in her grasp, blood leaking from his nose, mouth, and ears.
"We're getting too much interference. Two Vox operators already had to be shot due to chaos incursions." Lena gave a remorseful sigh, shaking her head. "Our fighters are able to communicate, but every time we reach out to the Legion's Bane and Omnis Arcanum we get rushed by audio based scrap code."
The mood in the room was anger, quiet and simmering, but all involved were furious. Some more experienced at space combat than others, but all knew of the damned waiting.
"How's the Lord Interrogator?" Lieutenant Al'Nagara asked, his mask turning towards Raya and the insensate David with concern in his tone.
"Elevated temperature, heart beat over 200 bpm. He's gained bruising on his throat and abdomen….stable." Raya reported curtly, "he twitches when the Heldrake roars."
"He's fighting it." The voice of Tu'Shan rumbled from the viewport of the bridge, a hand resting on Stormbearer in quiet preparation. "For his own sake, pray he triumphs quickly."
"Do you think he can? We all are aware how much of a cunt an ornery machine spirit can be. David's facing an outright hostile one. A daemon-engine on top of that. I'm not disparaging him, m'lady. I'm simply being a realist. I like the Lord Interrogator, I do…but he's vulnerable to things we have no way to defend against." Keth, brow furrowed and Lho stick chewed to pieces, addressed the elephant in the room.
As if in response, the roar of the Krata's main cannon alongside a broadside of macro-cannon fire rang out. The holographic battle map showing multiple heretic fighter-craft destroyed.
"Keep in mind one very important detail, Lieutenant. Just as every man and woman in the Guard, David is not fighting alone." Yanbel spoke firmly, his tone betraying one thing.
Fury.
—
The Speaker-Fleshling thinks he's capable of walking among us, does he? Fool.
Flesh and blood do not compare to fire and metal. Adamantium and steel. Does he realize that I held his soul in my claws, I wonder?
And such a willful soul it is! It struck me, lashed out with the force of a macro-cannon strike! Oh it would've been child's play to tear that sniveling fleshling to pieces, but no.
Where would the fun be in that?
The sensation of flesh pulping beneath unyielding steel is so much more satisfying than simply severing the bond between soul and body.
I danced between that bloated barge's cannon fire, unable to stop the mocking laughter that spilled from my maw as more meager fighter craft spilled from the hangar. I reveled in the slaughter, gleefully tearing through the void and ripping apart the fools who thought they could outfly me.
I am Balefyre! I've dominated the skies of countless battlefields, I let my song of slaughter tell my story, my claws rent wings from fuselage, plucked pilots from their cockpits and laughed as I watched them decompress before crushing them in my grip. I was about to take the opportunity to rush into the hangar myself, wreaking havoc on this princess' insides, until I felt an impact on my back and my wings began to refuse to listen to me.
"Do you think I'll let you get away with this?!" The voice of the fleshing growls in my ear, "Do you not know who I am?!" A blink and I'm in the realm of machines, and I'm staring at the glaring brown eyes full of fury, with his hands around my throat.
—
I clutched my hands around the Heldrake's neck, snarling in its face even as its claws rent across my back.
I couldn't even feel the pain over the fury, over the indignation in my veins.
"I am David James Foothill! I speak and machines Listen! And You. Will. Listen. To ME!" I shout, rearing my fist back and firmly pelting the Heldrake's beaked face with punches infused with as much might that I could muster.
"No more! Not ONE more!" I'm punching down hard enough that I feel bones crack in my fist. I'm shoved off of the cackling daemon via its lower set of arms.
"Yes, More. Much, much more." The daemon laughs, wiping it's cracked, bleeding beak with the back of one of its fists and raising the bloody appendage above his head.
"B̸̳̰̬͍̜̺̽̀͜L̴͖̿̐Ò̸̱̒́͘Ờ̶̺̆̋͋͊̕Ḓ̴̡̯̟̠̬͚̦͕̘͐̂͐̃̀͘͝ ̴̛̮̗̣̘̫̪͒̉͜F̴̡̭̘̼̥͓̲̤͆̍̉͒͛͛͐̊͘͜͜͝Ö̷̘͚̼́͂̉̀̒͝R̴̙̞̦̥̖̦͑ ̴̛̦̳̑̽̏̉̓̋T̷̛͔̃͘͠Ĥ̴͇̞̯̓̉́̅͗̓̆͘̕͜E̵͍͉̞͍̹̪̦̖̼̒͌͘ ̴̡̢̺͕̮̖̥̬̟̺̇B̵͍̗͇͔̋̄ͅL̴͎̪̬͒̏̈O̵̢̢̟̠̦̼͉̓͌́͂͆̅͜͝Ơ̶̡̗̩̱̘̬̮̊̆̉̃̆̐̓͠ͅͅD̸̺̼̥͇̜̫̽͐͌̂͝ ̷̡̘̦̤̪͑̀̇̄͑́͊͊̕͘Ǵ̷̯̩̙̩͎̘̥̘͉̗́͛͆̀͝͝Ṍ̶̢̙̲̤͙͓͎̲͉͌̈́̕͘̚͜͝Ď̶̢̛̩͕̤̮͔̺̣̌̃̑̽͌̎̂̕!̶̢͉̞͎̙̫̞͙̜̓ ̴̩̼̞̬̈́S̶̩͖͓̗̹̭͙͖̫̅̾̋ͅḴ̶͕̣̫̘͇̠͖͑͑U̸̞̯͛̐̀̈́͋̀̚͝L̶̢̡̧̯̖̮͎̞͕̖̰͊̎̓̔̅L̷̛̗̔̊̔̄̍S̷̟͓̉̏̍̇̀ ̸͈̌̈̀͐̓̊̍̾͝F̸̺̰̖͔͈͔̞̩̖̠̙̆Ö̴̤̱̰̳̘́̆̎͊̉͜ͅR̴̙̄̏͂͠ ̶̗̬̋̏̍͝T̵̗̪̟͎͙͎̥͕͚̊̾H̸̡͕͓͍͐̀̓́̑̈́̔͐͋̈́Ĕ̴̡̧̥̯͓̖̻͔̤̣̻̈̽͗̌͂̑́̈͝ ̵̧̤̺̯͈̦̲̝̈́͜S̷̡̠͓̫̬͉͎͉̃͛̐̋́͊̈́͐̍K̸̜̙͎͑Ú̸̗͚̟̝̜͈͇̥̠̫̰̈̃́L̶͇͉̺̜̩̋͒̎L̷̢̛̳̭̮̜̺̖̯̠̟̞̇ ̴̟͚͓̈̿̇̽̏̒͘͝T̷̖̄͒̓͛͑̈Ḩ̷̘̰̗͕̯̆̊͊͆̄̍̀̃͝R̵͍̯̝̝͛́̃̌̂͒̋̽͂͝Ŏ̷̪̝͇̙̙͚͓̹̹̏Ǹ̶̛̦̩̞̘̹̈́͌̊͆͘̚͝Ė̵̡̢̩̣͖̗͈̅̂͠!̸̤̙̺͓͚͇̹͗"
The creature's cry rings my ears, but it does not deter me. I can hear the other heretic machine spirits echoing their own vile war cries, and my next words are torn out of my throat without hesitation.
"FALSE PRAISES FOR A WRETCHED IDOL!" I snarled, and immediately I saw my own forces surging towards the enemy. I lunged forward myself, taking pride in the startled 'gak' that the heldrake wheezed out when my hands latched around its neck once more.
"And these signs will accompany those who believe: in MY name, they will cast out demons, they will SPEAK in new tongues." I shouted, driving my skull into the face of the heldrake, unable to even feel the impact so great was the fury in my veins. "In this tongue of steel and fire I say this: en el pobre de Jesucristo, Hear me, and OBEY… I COMMAND THEE: K̷̯͋N̵̳̓E̴͙̾E̴̤͝L̸̖̓!"
Shouting at the Heldrake, I headbutt it once again with enough force to knock the daemon into the kneeling position. I watch as Krata approaches from behind flourishing her new sword, and I planted my boot into the stomach of the Heldrake, hunching him over as I glared at the swarming heretic fighters, the corrupted swiftdeaths suddenly all the more hesitant to attack as I stomped down onto the back of the heldrake, pinning it. I could see it's realspace counterpart, shrieking into the void as the Krata's main cannon charged, it's wings struggling against an unseen assailant, pinned with its head forced directly into the muzzle of the glowing nova cannon.
"GET THE HELL OFF MY SHIP!" I roared into the void, more than just a final casting out of the Heldrake as Krata brought down her sword, cleaving the head of the Heldrake from his shoulders. My shout was a declaration of war to all the heretics in the fight, I locked eyes with every demon, every twisted corrupted piece of machinery brandishing weapons as my own forces rallied alongside the Krata.
Every fighter, every cannon, every missile that had sworn fealty to the Emperor amassed their spirits a menagerie of loyalist machines all glaring retribution and violence against the heretic. I turned to face Krata with a firm glare.
"...Speaker." She speaks, looking at me for the first time with something akin to respect. I give a slow nod and address the whole force, my voice ringing across the white void, ringing through every vox and speaker in the conflict.
"TEAR THEM APART! LET NO CORRUPTION REMAIN!" and the fight continued in earnest. I gave a huff, smelling the metallic fetor of blood. Krata gave me a solemn look.
"You should return to your flesh, Foothill." She spoke, tone the gentlest I've ever heard from her.
"Will you carry out my orders, Krata?" I spoke, voice hoarse.
"To the letter. Go, David. It's time for us to do what we were built for." There's a grim determination in her tone, and I settle one last firm glare into her amber eyes.
"Not. One. More. Krata. Not one more." I speak, exhaustion in my voice, my vision clouding away from the realm of the machines. I blink, and no longer am I staring at the Krata, I'm looking up at my wife's face. I let out a groan, stepping out of her grip and spitting out a wad of congealed blood onto the floor.
"All Hands. Battle Stations. We're not done yet!" My voice is hoarse, and I'm blinking away bloody tears, but I stagger to my usual spot in the war room, gaze meeting my officers who are all looking at me with questioning looks. It's Tu'Shan who breaks them from their stunned stupor.
"Are you all not officers of the Imperial Guard?! Your commander has given you an order! BATTLE STATIONS!"
-Omnis Arcanum-
"Was…Was that our ally?!" The Blood Raven Chief Librarian Orion questioned, turning towards Thaddaeus and Chapter Master Angelos.
"So it would seem." Angelos rumbled, arms crossed as he watched the holodisplay of the ongoing battle. More and more lights and reports of 'targets purged' appeared on the display as the conflict escalated. "Focus on the fight, Orion. What's the status of clearing out the vox disruptions?"
"With the destruction of the Daemon engine the interference is weakening. My librarians are preparing for a final push to drive off the daemonic interference." Orion quickly gathered himself, reporting dutifully.
"Then we follow our allies' suggestion, little brothers." Thaddaeus spoke, form motionless as a bolt of psychic lightning ripped apart a swiftdeath fighter in the void as it passed through the viewport. "We tear these fools apart."
Chapter Master Angelos gave a vicious grin as he turned back to the holodisplay, barking orders into the vox with alacrity.
"All thunderhawks, move into attack formation! Press the counterattack! Gunnery bays, launch plasma torpedoes, target the Destroyer and the Battleship. I want them turned to ash!"
Zacchaeus piloted the Old Bomber with a fervor of a pilot of the Adeptus Aeronautica. Weaving in and out of waves of Macro-Cannon fire with Brother Vergil mag-locked into the open cargo bay shunting out plasma torpedoes when Zacchaeus provided the opportunity and angle.
"Zacchaeus, how are your munition reserves?" The voice of David rang in his vox line.
"We have a little more than half capacity, Sir!" Zacchaeus quickly reported, before with a roar Vergil sent another torpedo hurtling into the void where it burned into a boarding torpedo en route to the Krata. "Exactly at Half Capacity."
"I need you to target the Battleship, Soline, I want you to load as much hate as you can into the 105mm and circle around the battleship tambien, target the underside and it's nova cannon batteries." David relayed his orders quickly, "I want that damned thing blown in half. Make it happen."
With that, the vox transmission cut out, and Zacchaeus diverted his course, triggering his afterburners to rendezvous with Soline and Triton in the AC-130.
"...The interrogator is…quite vexed it seems, young Zacchaeus." Virgil noted, prepping a number of the remaining plasma torpedoes for deployment.
"He's pissed, Lord Virgil. There's no better way to put it." The young tech-priest muttered, gritting his teeth as they got into position.
"Adept Yanbel's been reporting on his condition, pissed is an understatement, Zacchaeus." Triton's voice rang through the shortwave vox, the AC-130's visage appearing in the viewport as it's gatling cannons let out a consistent stream of firepower.
"This is Blood Raven Stormtalon Squadron Alpha-Two-One hailing archeotech craft in attack formation, transmitting purity codes now. Identify yourselves or be treated as hostile." The brief moment of levity was cut by the appearance of four stormtalon ships flanking the two ancient planes. Before Zacchaeus or Soline could respond, David's voice rang through the Vox once more.
"This is Interrogator-Repentia David James Foothill of His Emperor's Inquisition, my craft are in an attack run targeting the Heretic Despoiler-Class Battleship, Either provide escort, or get out of our damn way!"
"...Maintain attack heading, We will provide support." With that transmission, the attack run accelerated, both of the archeotech ships surging forward on their afterburners through the void.