Chapter 153: (Telkan) (1/2)
Dressed in his battle armor Sergeant Hammond dropped down into the main waste reclamation tank, flexing his knees as he hit. His arms were over his head, holding his rifle tight. This tank was connected the decon showers and was usually filled with harsh chemicals, water, and a slurry from biological material being broken down chemically. It had been pumped out but still, it was supposed to be a visual inspection on the interior of the tanks.
He hit something soft and then plunged through it up to his waist. It was a soft, fibrous mat, glowing faintly in the darkness of the tank, more of a hint of light than actual light.
”FLAMER! I NEED A FLAMER IN HERE!” Hammond yelled out, moving to the side.
Something skittered in the darkness.
Private Illias dropped down next to Hammond, the flamer held over his head. He landed in the fibrous mat and looked around, his headlamp shining on the pinkish algae-like spongy material.
”Flare out!” Hammond yelled, cracking the IR flare and tossing it to the side.
The darkness bloomed into light and the two men saw it.
Thousands, tens of thousands of insects scurrying away from the light, their wet shells gleaming in the IR light, mandibles clicking, legs propelling them across the algae.
”JESUS DIGITAL CHRIST!” Illias yelled out, leveling the flamer.
”No, don't!” Hammond snapped, knocking the barrel of the other man's weapon up with his own weapon. ”Jump out.”
Illias nodded, jumping up and out. When Hammond jumped out he steadied the other man to keep him from falling back in.
”They must feed off the chemicals,” Hammond said, shaking his head. He motioned at the two greenies with them. ”We're gonna need thermite-napalm. Fire's the only thing that's going to work.”
The greenies flashed icons of agreement.
”Cyborg Saint Peter, why didn't anything think to check these?” Illias asked, staring down.
Hammond shook his head. ”That stuff felt pretty anchored to the bottom. I'll bet it stayed far enough under the surface you couldn't see it easily and the bugs would all run and hide.”
”Think there's anything else in there?” Illias wondered.
”Sergeant Hammond to Command, you see my cam?” Hammond asked.
”One moment, Hammond,” came the terse reply. Hammond took a moment to control his breathing. He always felt like there wasn't enough air when he was running on internal air. ”Yeah, we see it.”
”Gonna drop a frag grenade down there, see if we stir anything up,” Hammond said.
”Negative, Hammond. There's a squad in armor on their way. There's a high probability there's something nasty enough to kill the two of you in there,” Command said. ”Close the lid and hold position, they're two minutes out.”
One of the greenies flashed an icon of a green mantid frying a potted plant with a flame thrower and laughing maniacally.
”Yeah, me too, buddy,” Hammond said, shutting the hatch to the waste tank.
It shut with a crunch as one of the beetles tried to scurry out, cutting it in half, its antenna waving furiously and its forward two legs twitching as the severed half fell to the floor.
Hammond crushed it under his boot.
Vuxten kicked the worm away, sending it flying through the air, 471's micro-rifle shredding it into pieces as the tiny green mantid rattled a burst into it. Vuxten jumped up on top of the shelter, holding the stubby SMG in his hands, clamping down the trigger, hammering the shells into the advancing insects that were pushing their way through the dirt that had been plowed up by the shelter surfacing, forcing the defenders to both keep an eye and a gun muzzle on the mounded earth as well as the jungle surrounding the shelter.
There were Sisters of Wrath baking the dirt, coating it with burning liquid fire, roasting insects and strange creatures before they could fully break free of the soil. The thousands of troops in green armor were staying mobile, in tight formations, using concentrated laser fire to rip apart the creatures that exited the jungle.
A dragonfly dropped on the shelter, reaching down with scythe-like pinchers, slamming them into the door seal and peeling it back with a shriek that Vuxten could feel in its mind.
Screaming in hatred back at it Vuxten shoulder-checked it hard enough its thorax exploded, but not before it had bent the door half open.
”NO! NO! NO MORE!” Vuxten screamed out, triggering his grav-spike to anchor him. He started kicking at the bent war-steel, increasing the gravity in his boots. ”THIS IS THE LINE! NO FURTHER!” he roared out, kicking at the steel. ”NO MORE! NO MORE TELKAN PODLING BLOOD!”
The whole shelter felt like it shuddered as the massive leader of the Imperium Marines crashed onto the hull of the shelter next to Vuxten, who didn't spare the massive cyborg a look as he kept kicking at the door, trying to bend it back down.
Daxin stared for a split second at the little armored figure in front of him, blinking his cybernetic eyes. He stepped forward and with one boot helped the little Telkan Marine to push the door back into place, the metal screaming with stress.
A beetle landed on the hull, folding its wings and starting to close its shell.
The Telkan used a Marine stubber to blow the beetle apart, holding the weapon with both hands, his whole body shuddering with the recoil of the hand weapon. One hand was wrapped with the warsteel chain of a cutting bar, the teeth wrapped around the Telkan's forearm, his fist, across his knuckles glowing a dull red.
His children are in there, Dax, his wife whispered in his ear as Daxin stepped up next to the lone Telkan Marine. The singers are inside. Podlings inside. Do you want them to die like our daughter died? Do you want him to feel them screaming inside his mind for the rest of life like
WE SCREAM FOR VENGEANCE! AVENGE US, DAXIN! AVENGE US UPON A HATEFUL UNIVERSE!
Daxin roared in fury over the speakers in his war-chassis, the rage pouring off of him in a wave that caused insect wings to burst into flame, carapaces to crack, insect heads to explode as the brains suddenly boiled.
Still more insects swarmed the shelter, the air thick with them. Even the Sisters of Wrath scorching the air with their holy fire could not clear it all. Visibility dropped to nothing as bees exploded into EFP needles, wasps converted themselves into spiked ramjet rounds, gnats clouded sensors and acted as chaff when they exploded, spores filled the air and pollen coated everything.
AVENGE YOUR DAUGHTERS, DAX! AVENGE ME! DO NOT FAIL THEM AS YOU FAILED US!
He fired his rockets dry, laying about him with his chainsword as he roared in fury.
”I JUST WANT LEFT ALONE!” Daxin roared out, his chainsword biting deep into the carapace of a massive winged insect/lizard hybrid that clattered mandibles against his helmet, scoring the warsteel. He could feel the dwellerspawn's hatred clash with his own.
His smothered their needles of hatred under a tsunami of wrath, hate, and loss.
The Telkan at his back roared in a rage just as deep, bellowed a lifetime of rage and oppression back into the faces of the dwellerspawn, howling the rage of the newly freed fighting to defend what little freedom they'd managed to claw from a malevolent universe.
Vuxten smashed his chain wrapped fist into the face of a huge lizard that had managed to scramble up onto the shelter with suckered feet. The warsteel, white and smoking, caved in its skull as purple energy flared around Vuxten's fist.
He knew his nose was bleeding but he didn't care. He knew he was covered in sweat and fur oils, but it didn't matter. He could feel the blood running from the ripped open scar but all it did was push him harder and faster.
To smash. To howl. To rage.
Artillery had managed to shift, surrounding the defenders in a ring of fire, shrapnel, FASCAM deployed mines, napalm, and explosions. 11th ACR was breaking off, unable to see through the spores, just hitting the afterburners and clawing for the sky, intending on coming around on another run.
There was nothing but the orange/red or purple/white thudding of artillery and close air support runs, nothing more than the distinctive howl of magac weapons pouring hate into the enemy, nothing more than the screams of the dwellerspawn and the roars of defiance of the defenders.
To Vuxten it was all right in front of him as the bugs, reptiles, hybrids, and just plain things charged the damaged entrance to the shelter. A lizard charged and he ripped it apart with the stubber held in both hands. A beetle bigger than him buzzed out of the smoke, ash, and rain and he smashed it out of the air with one fist, the smoking teeth of the cutting bar shattering the armor. A kick shattered the armor of a flatworm and sent it flying off the shelter, twisting in mid-air for a second before burning hate from one of the Sisters of Wrath engulfed it and reduced it to steam.
471 held tight to Vuxten's back, his psychic shielding cranked up to maximum and even then memories that were not his own kept playing in his mind even as he fought.
welding the strut, his mind crushed beneath the iron fist of the queens and the speakers. screaming deep inside as he had his whole life as another guided his actions used him to do their will while he screamed and screamed and screamed in despair at a universe that had allowed him to understand that his mind was not his own
A cloud of butterflies darted for the back of the huge Terran Imperium warrior and 471 got off two rockets before his overheated micro-rocket launcher jammed. The two rockets exploded in the cloud, burning away wings and detonating the explosive tissue between the wings that would have detonated to drive a spike of osmium the size of a needle into the Terran's armor.
explosions off in the distance blossoming off the great structure of the queen's hive a scream a death scream echoing in his mind and then it was gone the hand that had always forced his limbs to move drove his actions suddenly vanished he dropped his tools and lifted his bladearms in joy as his mind was freed
The 40mm automatic grenade launcher's breech was jammed again and 471 climbed up on Vuxten's shoulder to slam the butt of his jammed micro-rifle against it, hammering on it until it suddenly snapped closed, almost catching the butt of his rifle
raising his voice in joy as his mind was freed his fellow mantids around him raising their bladearms and their voices in freedom terrible terrible freedom singing out in joy even as they felt the young queen's mind reach out to start to smother them singing in joy for those few precious seconds where they were in charge of their movements not the will and mind of another
A small insect landed on Vuxten's helmet, rearing back to drive a spike unfolding from its belly into the top of Vuxten's head. Before it could do much more than slowly rear back, increasing tension in its biomechanical muscles 471 stabbed out with both of his bladearms, impaling the creature with both spikes and throwing it off to the side.
seeing the atomic fire stomp toward him and rejoicing in the knowledge that it would reach him reach all of his hatch-mates before the young queen could fully grip their minds with her own stepping to the side to cluster up with nearly a dozen of his green brethren as the atomic fists pounded toward him
Wet-printing another thermal core and slapping it into the emergency thermal control system, hammering on it with a micro-impact wrench to force it into the slot that heat had expanded and made too small for it. The still soft structure of the thermal core warped and finally clicked into place.
in the split second before the atomic fury reached him starting to sing with the others feeling the young queen's confusion as she touched their minds and found them singing
even as the white of atomic fire grabbed them in its fist and ripped them apart
they had been free had died free
His mind full of the memory that was not his, 471 gave a triumphant screech and beat a winged ant to death with his jammed rocket launcher even as he stabbed it with his bladearms.
Her finger was stone on the trigger of her flamer as Bellona floated on a mixture of the past and present and future. The two torches, one on each shoulder, blazed with holy fury of Lost Terra as she had no fear for there was only slumber in death.
Her mind was riven, splintered, fractured, shattered into pieces. She no longer knew any different, no longer remembered being the young woman she had been. She could remember the deaths, the screaming over SoulNet, the barrage of emotions and experiences cascading through SolNet Advanced Virtual Reality, had died a thousand thousand thousand times, but she no longer remembered who she had once been.
All she knew was war.