Chapter 153: (Telkan) (2/2)
She did not remember the despair of seeing the Mantid warriors rush at the habitat of Alpha Centauri that she had grown up on. She didn't remember reaching down, gasping in the thin air, and lifting up a shattered piece of armaglass from the destroyed dome that gleamed at her feet.
She did not remember slitting her own throat, staring in defiance at the oncoming Mantid warriors, so many their footsteps made the ground tremble. She had stood there, wavering, fists clenched, blood dripping from the hand holding the shard of armaglass, blood running down her throat and down her chest.
Bellona could not remember what had come next. She had been cold and dead when the footsteps had moved up to her. The black robe caressing the sand as the figure had knelt down next to her cold body. How steady fingers had used a needle fashioned of Lossglass to stitch her throat closed with warsteel thread. How one gnarled hand held onto the runesteel staff and the other had lifted up her lifeless body. Cold white lips had covered her bloodless dead lips.
The figure, clad in robes, had breathed into her the gift of Legion.
What she could remember was opening her eyes, seeing the Technomagus AckAck1308 and Daxin the Unfeeling looking down at her as she took the first breath her lungs had felt in months, laying on the sands of her homeworld.
She could remember the burning sands of Anthill, the fires of betrayed Mercury, Scarred Venus, and slaughtered Mars. She could remember standing on the shores of an ammonia sea, clad in armor, beneath a sky of atomic fire.
It all was whirling, swirling, a confusing welter of images, emotions, and stimulus to anyone else.
But she was one of the Sisters of Wrath.
And they were nothing but meat to be burned.
”BURN IN THE NAME OF LOST TERRA AND SCARRED TELKAN!” the Technomancer roared, lifting up his staff and hammering it into the ground. Black flame and purple lightning roared out in a circle around him, rending apart insects, lizards, and hybrids. Flying insects exploded in mid-air or fell to the ground with their wings burned away. Larger creatures, even if they survived the fire and lightning, fell convulsing as the rage boiled their brains.
Vuxten heard the roar of the Technomancer as he kept one boot on the warsteel door and the other on the warsteel door frame. He'd flickered his grav-spike, warping and twisting the alloy until it was immovable even though he'd felt something crunch in his knee and his armor had increased the pressure of the interior sleeve around his knee.
Blood was dripping down his muzzle from a cut above his still meat eye, trickling from his nose, he could taste it in his mouth and in his throat, but he didn't care. He held onto the magac stubber with both hands, firing it at any creature that loomed up out of the smoke, ash, and rain. He knew 471 was with him, knew that his miniature partner had his back.
Knew his podlings and broodcarriers were somewhere in the shelter beneath his feet.
Knew other Telkan's broodcarriers and podlings were beneath his feet.
He could hear them. Hear the broodcarriers singing softly, words of calm and relaxation to stressed Telkan even as they were afraid of the vibrations and the dimly felt explosions on the other side of the thick warsteel walls.
It added fuel to the white hot rage that consumed him, roared higher as he felt the fizz of the magac reloading in his fists.
An Imperium Marine crashed to the hull next to him, half his helmet torn away, shredded flesh gleaming with blood and exposed bone on his face.
”ON YOUR FEET, BROTHER!” Vuxten yelled, holding out one hand to the dazed warrior. The Imperium Marine grabbed Vuxten's arm and yanked himself up, opening his hands so his heavy cannon flew into his hands. The Imperium Marine put his feet solidly on the hull, his back to Vuxten and Daxin, and started laying down heavy fire on the creature that had knocked him away with a negligent swipe of its massive taloned claw.
The creature loomed out of the ash and fire and rain, roaring as it vomited up bioplasma on the green armored Terrans grouped together and lashing it with lasers. Vuxten turned the SMG on the giant creature, seeing the rounds do little more than make blemishes in its thick hide.
”NO! NO MORE PODLING BLOOD!” Vuxten roared out, squeezing the grip with both hands, fighting the recoil on the massive weapon. The images of dead podlings he'd been too late to save during the Precursor War filling his mind as he howled out bloodlust and clamped down on the trigger, firing off the entire magazine in one long howling burst. The stubby barrel was smoking when the action clicked and the bolt locked back.
The giant monster crushed two of the war machines beneath it massive foot, its tongue flicked out and grabbed two Dokigrrlz who kept firing even as it pulled them into its mouth and swallowed so the lamprey-like throat could grind them to flesh and shards of armor. Rockets hit the creature, scarring the flesh, bruising it, but not penetrating the thick hide of the creature.
”NO MORE SILENCED SONGS!” Vuxten bellowed over his speakers as the magac reloaded with the weird twisting fizz and his brain filled with images of crushed broodcarriers, mangled broodcarriers, murdered broodcarriers, too many times holding dead or crying confused podlings they'd protected with their own bodies.
moving the rubble, flipping it away with one armored hand, brushing aside the stiff and cold fluffy tail to reveal wide eyed crying podlings still held close by the dead broodcarrier that had protected the podlings from the atomic blast that had driven glass into her body
”NO MORE!” Vuxten cried out as the amount of firepower being aimed at the giant creature intensified, making it hesitate and blink with confusion.
”YOU COULD STRIKE A MATCH IN MY HAND!” rang out over his speakers as he fired off the entire magazine again, ignoring the beeping coming from the weapon as its heat rose. His shoulder launchers beeped as the magac's ammo counter rapidly dropped and he dead-fired them at the creature as it roared at the shelter and its tiny defenders. The missiles hit with cracks, knocking a single tooth out, blowing a divot in the tongue, blistering and discoloring the roof of its mouth even as the 40mm's all hit the top of its head at once, wreathing it in fire.
”TOO BLACK TO TAN!” carried over the din as 471 overrode the heat warnings from the nano-forge to supply ammunition to the shoulder launchers as fast as they could be slushed out.
Vuxten felt the gun run dry and snarled, the creature's screaming roar rebuffed in his own mind. Part of him wanted to jump at the giant creature, to go at it with his teeth and bare hands, wished his cutting bar had not broken, wished he still had the heavy autocannon.
The mat-trans loaded thumped ammo into the magazine and the weapon roared again.
”HEAVY METAL RHYTHMS FROM A ONE MAN BAND!”
The giant creature started moving forward, picking up speed, even as small explosions dotted its hide.
”BUST MY KNUCKLES IN A JUNKYARD SCUFFLE!”
Vuxten barely got warning, reaching back to snatch 471 and hold him close even though the mantid was upside down. He turned around, crouching, slapping the magac against his hip where it attached, putting one fist against the warped and twisted door.
Across the battlefield armored troops went down on one knee, crossing their arms in front of their faces. The green armored troops dove onto the ground, putting gloved hands over their necks. Even the Sisters of Wrath went down on one knee, bowing their heads as if in supplication. The giant war machines crossed their arms across their middles.
”WHIPPIN' ADVERSARIES WITH A BRASS BELT BUCKLE!”
The atomic rounds, five of them, hit the center of the creature's body, blowing a massive hole through the middle as the 150kt rounds detonated inside the kaiju's body. Burning meat and armored hide exploded into the sky as atomic fire devoured flesh and bone.
The kaiju vomited up blood and the two Dokigrrlz who picked themselves up out of the smoking stomach acids, one missing an arm, one with her face reduced to bone, and started firing their magac's wildly into the dying creature's face.
The shockwave pounded into Vuxten, who managed to hold his place, his armor's graviton generator and compensators screaming in his one working ear, his armor alarms howling, the heat spiking and covering him with sweat again.
”PILEDRIVERS ON LINE!” came the roar over the comlink, still full of static even though the tanks were less than a mile away.
Trucker held down the butterfly trigger of his quadbarrel, hosing a massive reptile looking creature with insect wings as it tore itself free from the earth, shedding green nutrient fluid as it revealed the buried nutrient pipe it had grown inside of. One of his cybereyes was smashed to junk and two of his cybernetic fingers were missing, but Cry Little Sister still roared with life as the gunner and EM officer heft the shell up and reloaded the main gun faster than the autoloader could have managed it.
They were tankers, they'd make do, even if they had to get out and push the goddamn thing into battle. They were 3rd Armor, Spearhead, who had broke the enemy's back on a thousand worlds, that had crushed the mantid warrior caste into paste beneath their battle-steel treads.
”Milord Daxin, call down the Wings of Rage! It is time!” Bellona gurgled, striding out of the ash and rain as if nothing had happened. Her armor was pristine, marred only by the crimson rain falling from the sky, her face still gray unliving beauty.
Standing up and letting 471 climb back onto his back, Vuxten looked up as the massive Cyborg who had been at his back raised his helmet and shouted to the sky, what sounded like an unintelligible vocalization of pure rage. When he had finished he looked down, clapping his hand on Vuxten's shoulder.
”My seers and oracles saw you here, Brother Vuxten,” the figure intoned.
The weight of the words nearly drove Vuxten to his knees but instead he stiffened his knees, ignoring the pain in one, and looked at the helmet faceplate of the massive Terran.
”Without you, Telkan would have fallen,” the helmet opened as the faceplate split in two and retracted.
Vuxten didn't flinch from the sight of a living face stretched over a warsteel skull, attached to tubes and wires that pulsated on the black skull. The eyes burned with red fire.
”The next part, Brother, is Telkan's burden alone,” the face twisted as the jaws of the warsteel skull moved. ”Ten of your men, two of whom had fallen, shall be with you.”
The skull tilted as the figure looked up. ”The elves come, and Telkan is saved.”
The figure looked back down. ”But only if you succeed, if the Telkan people succeed,” Daxin said. He held out one hand. ”Your chainsword,” he asked.
Vuxten pulled the wreckage of his broken cutting bar off his hip and handed it to Daxin, who handed it to Bellona. Bellona held it in her hands, breathing black mist onto it that suddenly burst into flame, consuming the mist.
A heavy chainsword was held in her hand.
She handed it to Vuxten with a slight bow.
”The Stubber of Bahram the Persian Fury, Brother,” Daxin asked.
Vuxten handed the SMG to the big Terran, who again handed it to Bellona.
The battle still raged around them, the weight of Trucker's unit crushing the insects beneath their treads, shattering them with their guns, even as the infantry poured fire into those the tankers missed.
She handed back a smaller version, still blocky and heavy and ugly looking, without the ornamentation. His pistol was handed back, heavier somehow. Finally she stepped forward, opening her dead jaws and breathing black mist upon him. Vuxten's displays went crazy for moment as multiple armor breaches were reported. The mist burst into flame after a moment, leaving Vuxten standing in his armor, which was heavier, massed more, less sleek and more bulky and plated.
A dropship fell from the sky, ornate, blackened by fire, blocky looking. The drop-side was open, showing eight Telkan Marines standing inside. Two war chassis, the size of Daxin, stood on each side of the line of Telkan.
”Where am I going?” Vuxten asked.
The skull headed warrior shrugged, the massive ornate plates of his armor rising and falling.
”That is not for us to know, brother. It is for Telkan and Telkan alone,” Daxin stated. He swept his arm out, pointing at the dropship. ”Your fate, brother, lies with them who have been seen by my Wrathful Ones. What you do decides the fate of Telkan itself.”
”Go in glory and wrath, brother,” Bellona gurgled.
--into fire-- 471 flashed on Vuxten's HUD. --ride or die--
Vuxten nodded and jumped, twisting and somersaulting so he landed facing outward.
The dropship lifted up, arcing, and the raging battle below dwindled and was lost in the ash and smoke.