Part 12 (1/2)
Glancing back over his shoulder as he attempted to parry one of the las.h.i.+ng pincers with his feeble blade, Octavius saw the radiant figure of the Blood Ravens librarian storming through the arena towards him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of another figure in the arena behind him, but before he could look properly his blade snapped and the mechanical pincer crashed into him, swatting him off his feet and sending him skidding across the floor.
Rolling as he landed, Octavius craned his neck around to see Atreus and Ashok prowling around the new and beautiful figure in the arena, encircling her like predators around prey. She appeared undaunted and even slightly coy, with her arms folded self-consciously over her chest, and with blades held delicately in each hand. Her long black hair seemed to billow around her, as though caught in a daemonic breeze, and her exposed, pale skin glistened seductively. It was the wych queen herself a overcome by the voyeuristic thrill of combat, she had vaulted down into the arena to join in.
Her presence transformed the already blood drenched arena. The remaining wyches broke off from their engagements with the Marines, flipping and vaulting into retreat so that Lelith would be the unchallenged centre of attention as she battled the two librarians.
From his momentarily p.r.o.ne position, Octavius could see his team respond: Kruidan was already charging across the arena to a.s.sist his captain; Pelias and Luthar were giving chase to the fleeing wyches; and Sulphus was studying the mechanical monster that was attacking Octavius. As for the eldar, there was no sign of the two seers, so Octavius presumed that Ashok had already taken care of them, but the s.h.i.+mmering Aspect Warrior was slipping her way past the librarians to engage the wych queen herself.
As the new and rapidly changing situation registered in his mind, a sharp pain seared through Octaviusa abdomen; something had punched down through his back as he lay on the ground distracted just for a second. Before he could respond, the huge talon erupted into a spray of spines that jabbed into his internal organs, securing itself in his flesh and yanking him up into the air. He roared in pain as the mechanical Talos construct brandished the Deathwatch captain in the air like a trophy, and the crowd brayed in response, stamping their feet with thunderous approval.
Thras.h.i.+ng and twisting his body against the ma.s.sive violations being done to it, Octavius hacked and smashed with the remains of his blade until it snapped again, collapsing under the furious violence of the captainas rage. With his weapons ruined, the Imperial Fist pounded with his hands, struggling to detach himself from the barbed talon that impaled him, but every movement simply drove the spines deeper into his flesh.
The crowd was going wild, and, even in the throes of such hideous agony, Octavius could tell that their attention was no longer being held by his own struggle with the Talos. He could hear the crackling discharge of warp energy and the metallic clatter of blades clas.h.i.+ng. He could hear the yells as Ashok and Atreus tried to co-ordinate the attack on the wych queen, knowing that her death was their best chance of survival and victory. For the first time in his life, Octavius realised that he was little more than a sideshow, in so many ways.
Kruidan arrived too late. As he launched himself through the air, driving his glaive out in front of him like a lance and punching it through the metal armour that covered the monstrous Talos, he knew that Octavius was already dead. As he ran, he had watched helplessly as the impaled captain had been flourished and brandished by the construct, thras.h.i.+ng him against the wall and the ground like a toy. Finally, just as the Mantis Warrior had closed with range, the Talos had ripped the captain clear of its sting leaving a gaping hole in his stomach as the two front pincers held him up for the crowd to see one last time. Then, without ceremony, the pincers had pressed the heroic Marine between the ma.s.sive, metallic, gnas.h.i.+ng teeth in the front of the Talos, riddling him with puncture wounds before sucking him inside the terrible armoured sh.e.l.l. As he vanished from view, Kruidan thought that he had heard the captainas last defiant words, almost swamped in the cacophony of the arena: aPrimarch a Progenitor, to your glory and the glory of Him of Earth!a
CHAPTER ELEVEN: FAILURE.
As it consumed the captain, incarcerating him within its armoured sh.e.l.l and feeding on what remained of his life force, the Talos empted into renewed frenzies of activity, thras.h.i.+ng its talon tail and las.h.i.+ng with its ma.s.sive pincers. Kruidan was already upon it, climbing over its jagged sh.e.l.l and hanging on to the vicious spikes that stabbed out of its armour. He held his glaive in one hand, using it to jab down into the cracks between the armoured plates, trying to prise one off so that he could get inside. For some reason, he knew that there was probably no pilot in a well-hidden c.o.c.kpit within a the Talos seemed to move with a will and a thirst of its own a but the Mantis Warrior didnat care. The hideous construct had taken the life of his captain, and he could not permit it to survive.
A terrible clanging and sc.r.a.ping noise alerted Kruidan to the presence of Sulphus, as the techmarine clambered up on top of the Talos, his various augmetic arms dragging him up over the p.r.o.nged surface in the manner of a spider, clamping him securely to the machineas sh.e.l.l.
The Talos bucked and shook, trying to shed its unwanted pa.s.sengers like a beast attempting to rid itself of parasites. Its great curving tail and its mechanical pincers started to convulse and shake, as though they were utterly out of control. The distinct hum of energy started to pulse through the metallic structure, as though being drawn into its thras.h.i.+ng limbs. Then, after a couple of seconds, the pincers and sting erupted with fire, spraying wild volleys of fiery projectiles around the arena.
The weapons seemed to discharge without aiming and the Talos itself started to spin as though rotating on a central, vertical axis. Random energy blasts hailed around the arena, cras.h.i.+ng into the walls, the ground and even into the stands. The audience screamed with delight as it scattered away from the explosions.
The spinning motion of the Talos grew faster and faster as its limbs flailed uncontrollably, spraying the amphitheatre with a random spread of lethal shards. Kruidanas grip around the spike in the constructas hull was slipping as the increasingly powerful centrifugal force threatened to throw him clear of the mechanical beast. He pushed his glaive deeper into the armoured plates and transferred his weight, but it was no good. After a few seconds the glaiveas blade could no longer maintain its penetration and Kruidan was sent flying.
The Mantis Warrior spiralled through the air, flipping end over end as the incredible momentum threw him thirty metres and smashed him against the remnants of the gladiatrix gates. He slid down the wall into a heap against the floor before pulling himself back to his feet, leaning his weight against the buckled and bent glaive that he still held tightly in his hands.
The arena had changed completely. The Talos was spraying fire indiscriminately, and even the gladiatrix wyches were beginning to take some cover, although it was relatively clear that this mechanical monstrosity was part of the show. The crowd jeered at any of the surviving wyches that attempted to flee the arena, spitting their disdain and disgust and pressuring the darkling gladiatrixes to remain in the arena of death. Meanwhile, the crowd was writhing and roiling, like a single, ma.s.sive organism that was struggling to avoid the errant volleys from the Talos. This was audience partic.i.p.ation at its worst.
A little way from the spinning and convulsing Talos, Lelith was dancing with Dhrykna. The two female warriors were breathtaking in their elegance and beauty as they circled, flipped, somersaulted and spun with their blades flas.h.i.+ng at incredible speeds. They paid almost no attention to the flurries of fire that sizzled past them or exploded at their feet; they simply turned or ducked or sprang to avoid them, integrating the movements smoothly and flawlessly into their continuously evolving dance. The scant, dark armour of the wych queen flashed with blackness, whilst the glistening white of Dhryknaas psycho-plastic armour seemed to burn with purity and brilliance. It was like watching a battle between heaven and h.e.l.l.
Ashok and Atreus stood magnificently between the heavenly battle and the Talos, each unleas.h.i.+ng tirades of warp power into the midst of both contests. With one hand they sought to support the glittering Aspect Warrior of Ulthwe, and with the other they poured destruction against the thickly armoured Talos. Their concentration was immense as they struggled to avoid striking their allies in both combats, and their own immobility rendered them into standing targets for the blasts from the Talosa weapons.
Sh.e.l.ls and projectiles smacked into them, exploding into plumes of flame, smoke and shrapnel, but when the fireworks subsided, they could be seen standing untouched and glorious exactly where they had been before, dousing the enemies of the Emperor with streams of psychic death.
On the far side of the arena, in amongst the explosions and the relentless flas.h.i.+ng of blades, Pelias and Luthar were engaging the remaining wyches. Their armour was cracked and chipped, and their hands ran red with blood, but they parried and punched at the darkling warriors with the fury of pride and righteousness. The hilts of daggers and swords protruded from their abdomens and limbs, where the gladiatrixes had penetrated their defences and struck home with their blades. But the Marines fought on undaunted and uncowed, their superhuman bodies able to function effectively despite the egregious wounds and the terrible pain.
They were outnumbered nearly four to one, but they stood back to back and showed the dark eldar what it meant to be part of a Deathwatch kill-team. They were in the arena to kill, not to be killed.
Looking back to the Talos, Kruidan saw that Sulphus was still clamped to its roof, his mechanical arms secured firmly to the beastas metallic sh.e.l.l even as the rest of his body thrashed and waved in the air above it. So close to the cha.s.sis of the mechanical monster, Sulphus was actually the only one safe from its random spray of fire.
The techmarine was beating at the roof of the Talos, pounding relentlessly at its armour with his fists and smas.h.i.+ng at it with the adamantium fixture at the end of one his free augmetics. Eventually, the metal started to buckle and bend. The corners of the armoured plate began to lift as the centre of the panel became depressed.
As soon as there was enough of a lip for him to get a grip, Sulphus jammed his free augmetic arm into the widening crack and prised the panel up, ripping it clear of the bucking beast and throwing it aside. With a hole in its back, the Talos lurched into still more frenetic bouts of fury, vibrating, spinning and rearing in an attempt to dislodge the Iron Father that clung to its scales. But Sulphus could smell victory, and he clawed at the edges of the hole, yanking panel after panel off the beastas back until the gap was large enough for a Marineas body.
With a tremendous effort of strength that caused the servos in his mechanical limbs to whine and groan, Sulphus reeled himself in against the tortuous centrifugal force generated by the spinning Talos. He pulled himself flat against the metallic monsteras sh.e.l.l and transferred his weight to his human arm for a fraction of a second as he readjusted his mechanical grip, pus.h.i.+ng his augmetic arms down inside the huge wound in the Talosa back. In that crucial instant, the centrifugal force nearly threw him clear a his human arm was simply too weak to hold him properly in place. But just as his body lifted off the surface of the sh.e.l.l, his augmetics found purchase in the Talosa interior and they pulled him inside.
It only took a few seconds for the techmarine to work his havoc in the interior of the mechanical beast. He had only been inside for a moment when the smooth and rapid spin started to splutter and lurch spasmodically. The Talos itself pitched forward, as though losing its balance. As the spin rate dropped abruptly, the metallic construct listed to one side and its weapons stopped firing. Then the structure seemed to gather speed, charging sideways through its sudden loss of balance, as though trying to prevent itself from falling over. It accelerated continuously until it smashed hard into the wall of the arena.
Smoke and debris plumed around the grounded Talos, but then the whole thing convulsed and detonated, blowing itself apart in a symphony of flames and red-hot metal shards. A series of secondary explosions erupted from the wreckage as the remaining ammunition blew, and a flaming inferno engulfed the surrounding area. For a few moments, there appeared to be silence in the crowd as they stared at the unprecedented destruction that was unravelling in their arena; could any of the darklings have expected the mon-keigh to survive so long? Had they ever encountered the Deathwatch before?
Through the silence and the fire emerged the tentacular figure of Sulphus, silhouetted against the raging flames. He strode out of the wreckage of the Talos, clutching something in one of his human hands. Even from his position by the ruined gates, Kruidan could see that Sulphus was holding the vivid yellow shoulder guard of an Imperial Fists captain.
As Lelith slipped inside the Aspect Warrioras lunge, she grinned with appreciation. It had been so long since she had battled a truly worthy opponent, and she made a mental note to thank Thaeaakzi for dispatching this glorious s.h.i.+ning Spear. Over the last several thousand years, she had done battle with the eldar of various craftworlds and even with the Ulthwe themselves from time to time, but she had only rarely come across warriors from the s.h.i.+ning Aspect. They were a rare delicacy, and Lelith was savouring every moment of the ritual of combat with this one. Despite the obvious contradictions, she found herself wis.h.i.+ng that there were more such warriors in the galaxy.
Dhryknaas blade just glanced the immaculate skin of Lelithas sculpted stomach, drawing a hairline of near-black blood across the pale surface. Rather than withdrawing the sword, the s.h.i.+ning Spear followed through, darting after her own lunge and dropping low, as though antic.i.p.ating a counter strike at head height. The Aspect Warrior was right, and Lelith spun at the precise moment that her stomach was cut, peeling away from the edge of the blade and bringing her own around in an elegant arc. Had Dhrykna withdrawn, the cut would have sliced through her slender neck. Instead, the exchange ended as it had begun, with the two warriors facing each other, just out of range. This time, however, a trickle of blood was running down Lelithas stomach and a few droplets were dripping down onto her leg, showing up in stark contrast to the pale skin of her right thigh.
The wych queen fixed her glistening, black eyes on Dhrykna as she ran a finger through the delicate cut in her skin, scooping out a bead of blood before licking it clean. Her eyes were wild with the thrill of combat, and her lips seemed to tremble in barely contained excitement. At that moment, all thoughts of the daemonic princess were banished from her mind a there was only the indescribable ecstasy of a worthy opponent.
She watched the s.h.i.+ning Spear cycling through various combat stances, flouris.h.i.+ng her blades around her body and then above her head, slipping easily around the stray volleys of fire from the Talos. There was an effortless grace to the femaleas actions that filled the wych queen with admiration and thirst. She could scarcely contain her desire to ruin the s.h.i.+mmering perfection that danced and postured before her. To ruin something so beautiful was the highest calling in Lelithas long life a more powerful even than the temptations sent by the Satin Throne itself, although Lelith had often had reason to suspect that such ruinations would also be Slaaneshas indulgence of choice.
Running her blood tipped tongue around her pursed lips, Lelith turned a precise pirouette, spinning her two curving blades into rapidly reducing circles around her as she brought her hands together above her head. She struck a pose for an instant, letting the wild, maddened crowd admire her stretched and taught form. Then she dropped into a crouch and threw herself forward.
Dhrykna was ready for her. The Aspect Warrior spun to the side and kicked up into the air, letting Lelithas blades lash under her feet. But, at the last moment, the s.h.i.+ning Spear realised that she had made a mistake. As the momentum of her jump faded, Dhrykna fell back towards the ground, momentarily without strength or control. Meanwhile, Lelith had already recovered her balance after her own lunge, and she spun once again, bringing both her blades around in rapid succession. They cut into Dhryknaas back just as her feet hit the ground, slicing two thin, parallel gashes through her armour and drawing blood. Gasping, the Aspect Warrior fell forward out of range, tucking into a roll and coming up again to face the wych queen with her own blades poised.
Pain lanced across her back as the psycho-toxic poisons from Lelithas blade started to infiltrate her nervous system. She could already feel the muscles in her back beginning to spasm and stiffen as the poison started to eat them away. She howled in defiance and pain, refusing to let the injury signal the end of her resistance. In that fateful moment, everything suddenly seemed clear to the Aspect Warrior. It was as though the meaning of her life was flas.h.i.+ng before her: she had been sacrificed by the Seer Council for the good of Ulthwe a that much was obvious enough. Part of her soul resented the fact that the council had thought that it had to trick her into making such a sacrifice, when they should have known that her sense of duty was beyond reproach and that her concern for the survival of the dwindling eldar was paramount in her mind. She shrieked in anguish, angry to be misunderstood to the last. With abrupt sweeps, she pointed her two blades out to each side, extending her pain wracked shoulders as though flexing non-existent wings.
Even worse than the pathetic and meaningless deceptions of the council, however, Dhrykna realised that Thaeaakzi had chosen her on purpose. She had asked the Emerald Seer whether it might not have been better to have sent some Black Guardians or even a detachment of Dark Reapers a Truqui, the exarch, would have been a stronger and more appropriate choice. But the seer had refused to hear of it, claiming that this duty fell on the shoulders of the s.h.i.+ning Spears.
At the time, despite her suspicions, Dhrykna and thrilled with pride at those words, but now she could see the truth of it: Thaeaakzi had never wanted her to ascend to the armour of the exarch. She had never wanted to see another exarch tending to the temple of the s.h.i.+ning Light. For as long as Thaeaakzi had been the Emerald Seer, the s.h.i.+ning Spears had suffered diminis.h.i.+ng power and numbers. Although she did not know what it was, it was clear to Dhrykna in this moment of agony and death that the Emerald Seer harboured a secret about her time in the s.h.i.+ning Temple, a secret that could jeopardise her position on the council and her power on Ulthwe. The s.h.i.+ning Path permits no shadows. Thaeaakzi had sent Dhrykna to her doom not only as a sacrifice for Ulthwe but also as a way of ridding the craftworld of the only aspirant exarch of its smallest Aspect Temple.
aLight flashes, blood falls, death pierces the darkness!a Dhrykna howled again, trying to drag her mind back into the present for one last effort of will. Her soul was filling with a hateful desperation as she realised that her entire encounter with the mon-keigh had been stage-managed from the start. The worst of it was that the humans themselves had behaved with an honour and courage worthy of her respect, but she had held them in contempt nonetheless. In reality, it seemed that it was her own people that were worthy of her contempt.
The poison was spreading quickly through her back, and she could already feel the muscles around her waist beginning to seize up. In a few moments it would be too late for her to bring about an end worthy of a s.h.i.+ning Spear. Summoning the last vestiges of her will and her strength, Dhrykna darted towards the dancing wych queen. Her first strike was parried easily and Lelith skipped out to the side. But Dhrykna was not finished yet: as Lelith stabbed forward with her counter, the Aspect Warrior let herself drop to the ground, letting the queenas blade pa.s.s harmlessly over her. As Lelith leant forward to catch her balance, Dhrykna stabbed upwards with both of her swords, driving them into the already blood slicked abdomen of the beautiful wych queen.
As Lelith screamed, sliding down the blades and impaling herself even further, Dhrykna howled with the defiance of victory in death. But just before the wych queen slumped down on top of the p.r.o.ne Aspect Warrior, she thrust her own blades down through the s.h.i.+mmering white figure, running her through and catching her own sliding fall at the same time. For a moment, the two female warriors gazed into each otheras eyes, sharing the intensity of death, but then Lelith freed herself of the spell and pulled herself back to her feet. Dhryknaas blades still protruding from her stomach and back, she brayed up to the crowd like a wild wolf.
At exactly that moment, on the other side of the arena, the Talos construct detonated, hurling concussions, flames and shrapnel through the already death riddled s.p.a.ce within the amphitheatre. The darklings in the crowd were beside themselves with the orgiastic pleasure of violence and voyeurism.
Picking himself up off the ground after the explosion, Ashokas eyes flicked automatically towards the spot where the wych queen had stood only moments before. She was gone. Lying in the blood soaked dirt where Lelithas stiletto boots had been only instants before, he could see the mined body of the white-clad Aspect Warrior, its feet still twitching with the last signs of a collapsing nervous system.
Atreus, itas time to leave. We must find the spirit pool. Ashokas thoughts growled with discontent as he strode over to the fallen warrior, leaving the Blood Ravens librarian to conduct a survey of the situation in the arena.
The gates have closed again, librarian, but the eldar seer did them considerable damage. We should be able to get out that way. Atreus could see the cracks and holes that riddled the gladiatrix gates, not to mention the huge sections that had been completely blown away.
All around the auditorium, dark eldar warriors were vaulting down into the arena from the stands, as though they had finally realised that something other than ceremonial combat was occurring in their amphitheatre. The destruction of the Talos and the injury of their queen may well have been the turning point in the mood of the audience. It seemed that they had decided that the Deathwatch Marines should not be permitted to live out the rest of the day, despite their victories.
We have company, librarian. Atreus strode off to intercept the crowd, aiming to buy some time for his battle-brothers.
I know. Ashok appeared unconcerned about the dozens of dark eldar wyches and warriors that were flooding down from the stands into the fighting pit. Had he bothered to look around, he would have seen the blood drenched and damaged figures of Luthar and Pelias storming across the arena from the far side, just outpacing the growing crowd of aliens that raced after them. Sulphus and Kruidan were already at the great gates, ripping sections of masonry out of their weakened structure to open a gap wide enough for the team to get through.
Kneeling swiftly at the side of the lightling eldar, Ashok gazed into her fading eyes. Egregious puncture wounds were ripped into her chest and stomach, and Ashok could see the toxic poison eating away at her internal organs. Her eyes widened when she saw the Angels Sanguine librarian looming over her and then they contracted again with the pain of effort. Please.
The word was solitary and radiant, like a sonorous, silvering chime in the murky psychic darkness of the arena. He could see the alienas eyes beseeching him with the very last vestiges of its strength.