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Gone Gonzo  Posts: 3740 Joined: 18 Dec 2007     | |
Pulitzer Laureate  Posts: 824 Joined: 22 Mar 2008     | Mc had barely any time to attach his bayonet to his rifle before the mutants charge reached the group. He ducked as some hideous monster swung its disjointed one disjointed arm overhead, oversized claws raking empty air. Swinging around to face the creature with lasgun in hand, Mc plunged forward and stabbed his attached bayonet into the mutants bulging gut as it turned to face him. The monster simply looked at the rifle in its gut, and began to eminate a gurgling, choking sound from its many mouths as its one hand closed over Mc's rifle, slowly pulling it out. In quick desperation, Mc's fingers closed on the trigger and the lasguns beam ate away at the mutants insides. The creature continued to make the sounds as it pulled the rifle out of its stomach, Mc struggling to push it in deeper but plainly losing this battle of strengths. Mc suddenly became vaguely aware that This infuriated Mc to no end, and suddenly surprised the creature by wrenching the lasgun out of its grip to be plunged into one of the monsters many mouths, a quick shot squeezed off as the creature stood in dumb shock. Its gurgling laugh ceased instantly, Mc suddenly finding himself lying on the ground, bleeding from his arm as the creatures claws raked his flesh. The mutant was roaring now, the lasgun sent sailing over Mc's head as the creature went mad in pain. Mc immediately began to scramble after his weapon, the creatures mad roar closing in behind him. As the roar filled his very mind with images of his bloody death, Mc's hands closed on his rifle and he swung around and fired madly as the creature was moments away. The shots blew chunks of singing flesh off the monster, but its roaring never ceased. One lucky shot blew its single eye out in a explosion of white fluid, and the creature fell roaring onto Mc's bloody bayonet. The twiching mutant, now ceasing to roar, was moaning a spine tingling death rattle that disturbed Mc to the point of mindlessly repeating a simple chant of the Emporers Will. The large corpse continued to slide into the bayonet however, so Mc leaned his rifle to the side to avoid the creatures guts beginning to pour out of its gaping wound. Gasping in air in large gulps, Mc lay beside his kill in simple relief as the battle died around him. |
On the Record  Posts: 6465 Joined: 24 Apr 2008    |
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On the Record Posts: 6465 Joined: 24 Apr 2008 |
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Gone Gonzo  Posts: 2354 Joined: 14 Sep 2007    | Marko was aware that his squad mates were in their respective hells, but he was more concerned about Valios. As a private, he was on tricky ground to think this way, but the others were expendable. Valios knew what they were meant to be doing. Without him, they were a bunch of thugs in the middle of nowhere. He rushed to the Commisar's side and, praying for forgiveness from the Emperor, began to shake him and slap him across the face. "C'mon, sir," he said desperately, "Wake up, sir. You're a Commisar, set an example for your men." Marko sighed and looked around. The wasteland, now with a fresh coating of blood, seemed even less friendlier than it was before. He could see, not too far away, the ruins that Drang had run off into. Presumably, where Drang was currently cowering like a dog. Drang the potential heretic. Drang was a man with a lot of questions to answer. "Friends," Marko finally said, "We need to get the Commisar to cover. We should go looking for Drang, we had to kill him and we might get something out of him about the Hybrids. Maybe he was the one leading them or something." Silence. "Friends?" |
Gone Gonzo  Posts: 2163 Joined: 15 Jun 2008    | Ander Kalus snapped out of his reverie. He looked around, taking in the scene. Valios was down, as was Shanks, while Mc was lying down, seemingly exhausted. Helingal seemed unharmed. The hybrids had been dispatched. Marko was trying to rouse Valios, to no avail. The rest of the squad seemed to be AWOL. Marko seemed to be suggesting they go looking for Drang. Kalus shook his head- their priority was to regroup, patch themselves up. Drang could wait, he had to get his boys to safety. They had to find cover- who knew what else was lurking nearby? Scanning the area, Kalus found an ideal solution- an abandoned Chimera transport. It was missing a track, but otherwise was undamaged. And seemingly intact, on top of the roof, was a multi-las turret. "Marko! Grab Valios and drag him into that transport! I'll grab Shanks. Helingal, Mc, Reisner, cover us!" Hoisting Shanks over his shoulder, Kalus hustled to the transport, flanked by the others. Marko had got the door open and dumped the Commissar inside. Laying Shanks down, he examined his wound. He sat down, and pulled a needle and thread from his field kit. Taking a nip of gut-rot, he splashed a little on his wound to clean and sterilise it. Wincing, he began to sew the gash closed. After it was finished, he attended to the other's wounds, sewing up any cuts. He left the others and stood outside the APC door, looking for the rest of the squad and any more enemies, as Reisner took position on the roof. He was reluctant to use comms- one, he was worried someone might be listening in, and two, it would give all their positions. If one of the Guardsmen was out there hiding from a Tyranid, he didn't want to accidentally let it know where he was. Something was out there. He hoped the rest of the squad got their arses here soon... |
Gone Gonzo  Posts: 1892 Joined: 22 Jul 2008   | Reckless... "So what? You don't want to go to the Phoenician Academy? Well why didn't you just say so? I'm sure there's dozens of other collegiums on Pax that will accept someone of your credentials, a son of mine-" -the air, as if carried by some benevolent being. Then he was in darkness. But sheltered darkness. There was a pain in his shin, but a fixing pain maybe? It felt better afterwards. He knew he would have to wake up soon, but he pushed the thought away. "Just five more minutes..." he muttered softly. |
Gone Gonzo  Posts: 1208 Joined: 22 Apr 2008    | While Marko and Kalus had been seeing to the Commissar, Reisner was trying to retrieve his knife from the bloody remains of the hybrid he had killed. Where the hell did I stab the bastard? He rolled the creature over with his left hand and found the blade jutting from the ruins of its gut. He pulled it out and was wiping it off on the mutant's tattered robe when Kalus began giving orders. He shoved the knife in its sheath and looked at where Kalus was pointing. The Chimera would be pretty good cover, he was forced to admit, and more importantly nothing better was around. Reisner cradled his stubber awkwardly, forced to carry most of the weight with his left hand, and followed Kalus. When they reached the Chimera he peered in warily, making sure there wasn't some Xeno inside waiting to kill them. There wasn't, so they settled in, Reisner sitting silently as Kalus sewed up his arm. Then he went outside and clambered on the roof of the transport. If something was coming they'd want someone watching, and since Shanks was down they didn't have a good recon guy to do it. He lay prone on the roof of the transport, the stubber resting on the metal in front of him, peering into the wasteland for anything that might want to kill them. His eyes kept watch automatically, after years of experience tracking every movement, leaving his mind time to think. He thought about his squadmates. They were pretty beat up, and he wasn't sure how effective they'd be in a fight now. Helingal worried him the most. The man was the least injured among them, but he just sat there with his head in his hands. Something wasn't right there, and Reisner couldn't figure out what it was. At least it seemed the Commissar was going to be all right. That was something. Reisner watched the wasteland, and there was nothing there. Yet. |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 3740 Joined: 18 Dec 2007 | Helingal slowly got to his feet and walked towards the Chimera. Every step was painful to him, every nod of the head and every thought brought pain. He gritted his teeth and moved on through the pain. Eventually, after what felt like a very long time, he reached the vehicle. Someone was trying to wake the Commissar, he wasn't sure who it was. What had happened to him? Helingal wondered as he entered the vehicle. He noticed that thinking and wondering about his situation made himself feel better. But not much. He took cover behind the doorway and drew his rifle, aiming at the outside. His mind hurt to much to hold the weapon steady and he knew he couldn't tell friend from foe in this state. Better to wait for his allies to start shooting before he did. It hurt though, to be crippled in such a way that stopped a man from fighting when his body was able. There was only one thing to do, grit your teeth and pray you make it through it. |
On the Record Posts: 6465 Joined: 24 Apr 2008 |
Valios awoke to eyes peering down on him. Voices, actions, busy hands... His head hurt like a bitch, what had hit him? it fet like a bullet wound but it wasn't fatal. Obviously. He wished it was. The men had dragged him into an abandoned Chimera... Fools, like any opposing force wouldn't see that as a great little tin can to shoot the crap out of! He moved groggily, pushing soldiers aside and questing for clear space. "Move the warp off me, maggots!" He roared, pulling himself unsteadily to his feet "Where's my gun!" He accepted his weapons and assembled the troops outside. "We are being watched, Nothing could draw in hybrids short of a lictor" Blank stares, some grim faces... He would have to explain "A Tyranid vanguard organism, a 10 foot silent bag of razors that goes invisible" All grim faces, one slack jaw. "We need not concern ourselves with the beast, to search for it is to waste time and invite death" He said slowly "But we can learn from it" He pointed to a ruined building a few hundred meters away. "That, you lucky boys, is a sub-trans terminal, It runs directly under key facilities like the governors summer palace 40 miles east of here" He said "Where the local Warboss resides, and i have no doubt our transmitter does also" He turned back to them. "Like the lictor we will be a powerhouse moving unseen, we will infiltrate this Trans system and make our way directly to that palace, and we might just kill a warboss while we're there". He began to move out, concealing a limp and dizziness. The troops fell in behind him... And marched. Past smoking ruins and broken hordes. past a fallen tank company and a smoking gargant, toppled and gutted. They marched over corpses piled 6 deep and buildings once home to thousands, now fit for none. Until they reached the gaping maw of the tunnel, a broken tram-car on its side, mag rail still hissing with power "Nobody touch that" Said Valios. He stared, almost 30 tunnels branched off in different directions, a dozen headed due east. "Spread out, each man down one of the tunnels, Vox the rest of us if you find markings that indicate it leads to Pricipa Graad, The city the palace resides in" And as they split up, each man thought silently and in terror... That the hybrids had come from the direction of this terminal.
Something slipped into the tunnel behind them And something behind it And high above, something watched them all. And from deep within, something felt them approach. |
Gone Gonzo  Posts: 1058 Joined: 2 Jul 2008   | No...no-no-no-no! Devlyn had had to restrain himself from having a near-breakdown as soon as the Commissar had even said the words Lictor - to think that one of those was here, and may even be in this tunnel with him, terrified the lad. The lad who had lost a finger to a lowly hybrid, and he was sure to lose a lot more this time - this would not end as it did previously, he would not get lucky with this Lictor, not like he had done with the first. "On your feet, you pathetic piece of shit!" Unlike Devlyn's current Commissar, his previous leader on that feral world chose insults, humiliation and criticism over motivation and good leadership. A pity, as if he had gotten his men motivated enough to look behind them every once in a while, two might not have been pulled into the woodlands before Devlyn had even stopped praying. "S-Sir? Ketal and Conrad are, uh...gone." "Frag! You, O'Didley, whatever the frag your name is, on your feet and tell me what you and Ren pathetically failed to notice, report, or kill, before it shove a claw through his skull!" When Devlyn rose, a few tears still fell from his cheeks as he looked into the Commissar's eyes. Temporary madness gave O'Doole an insight he had never experienced before, and looking into the hard, unblinking eyes of his leader, he saw the fear that was hidden in them. Fear of heresy, fear of betrayal and treason. Fear of being judged, being criticised, being replaced. More than anything, this man feared death, and Devlyn, being little more than a boy, preyed on that, out of simple spite. "Death. Death is what we failed to notice - what you failed to notice, as you walked in here. Death itself surrounds us, and it is hungry...oh, and another two of your men are gone." The Commissar wheeled to find that only five of his men remained, all of which nervously swung their lasguns to and fro, at the slightest amount of movement in the foliage. And there was a lot of movement to be seen - seemingly from all angles, the single Lictor gave the illusion of a full pack encircling the Whiteshields and their leader. "In the name of the Emperor, I order you to tell me what monstrosties are out there, Whiteshield!" As the Lictor broke their ranks, and beheaded another Guard, those with their backs turned swung and fired at the movement of air that rushed past them - only to fire into the still standing, headless soldier. Devlyn, on the verge of insanity, nervously laughed at the new corpse - it was not even bothering to silently drag them into the greenery, such was how pathetically defenseless they were. "There's only one, sir. One cloaked abomination; claws, talons as large and deadly as scythes. The Lictor is here, 'sir', and I don't think it likes us very much." The Commissar snarled, struck the boy around the head, and joined his men; "Form a diamond, maggots, all angles, before I kill you myself!" O'Doole squirmed on the floor, towards Ren's body. He had meant to die near his fallen friend, but what he found was Ren's weapon - one he often complained about, not just for its lack of range but for the fact that weapons that set things on fire were not safe for anyone in the middle of a forest. Clutching Ren's flamer tight to his chest, Devlyn rose on to his knees, and turned to see the 4 remaining guard surrounding the Commissar - even the lad could see that their formation was too loose, and, if anything, it showed who to kill first to utterly destroy morale. The Lictor came from Devlyn's left, the foliage parting as it did so, the air rushing past in an awful smelling wave of rotting meat. It swept straight through the diamond, plunging a claw into the torso of the Commissar as it went, carrying him along for a few moments before shaking off the dead weight. All four men turned, shocked that they could miss something so large, further shocked by how deceptively fast it was. Knowing it had won, it flanked them once again, as Devlyn slowly approached on his belly. It took two to of them with each claw, through the back of the head, as it had done with Ren. The last two men, broken and terrified, nearly dropped their weapons, far too late to try raising them as the Lictor bore down on them. Raising both into the air, it plunged its long, scythe-like talons into their skulls, as Devlyn rose up, clumsily aimed Ren's flamer, and cleansed. Simply because he had not been an immediate threat, he had, with incredible luck, a warped disconnection that negated his fear, and Ren's flamer, actually killed a Lictor. The other Whiteshields that formed his squad were dead - but he wasn't, and that mattered a little more. If a Lictor was with him now, however, nothing would save him. Ren's flamer was now his own, and he had some experience of battle, but in these tight corridors, all by himself, he would have a lot more to worry about than his lost finger. Devlyn looked at the sooty, poorly cauterized stump that had been his finger. Before he had rejoined the group, O'Doole had managed to seal the wound in a way that was far from clean, but did the job. Firing the flamer for a few moments, Dev had placed the incredibly hot nozzle against the stump, searing the wound and closing it, but leaving a load of soot, and he didn't half scream as he did it. The finger ached terribly, and whilst he hoped he had not infected it with his method, he had at least stopped any blood loss. He felt incredibly foolish when he found that Kalus could have done this for him, in a much safer, cleaner way, but there were more important things to worry about; He still remember Valios' words about Hybrids within the ranks. Devlyn speculated about this a lot, alone in those tunnels, but he could come up with nothing concrete - Helingal's headaches were...strange, but as far as he knew that was not a symptom of being a potential abomination. Drang would have been a safe bet - but he was dead, and, again, as far as he knew, tyranids didn't kill their own, even if it was merely a potential tyranid. Deciding that things were best not thought about, especially alone, in a dark tunnel, Devlyn travelled deeper, still searching for any signs of passage to Pricipa Graad. |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 2163 Joined: 15 Jun 2008 | Keeping his helmet light off, seeing only by his bionic eye, Ander Kalus felt a knot of fear in his belly as he moved quietly down his tunnel. It had been there since the Commissar had told them there was a Lictor out there, somewhere. Was that what he had felt watching them? He had heard stories of these beasts, silent invisible dealers of horrific death. How whole transports had landed on autopilot, all inside butchered by the unseen menace. He did not relish the prospect of facing one. He wondered if the thing would even show up to his bionic eye. Lasgun sweeping back and forth, he marched on, occasionally pausing to scan behind and above himself. He hadn't felt this afraid since...since... Salxis Prime. A jungle world that was the supply distribution centre for 3 star systems. There had been rumours of a chaos cult taking hold on the world, and the Imperium was taking it seriously enough to send a company of the Sisters of Battle in to root out the cult and destroy it. 9 years ago, Kalus had been a Corporal in the 81st Cadian Imperial Guard Regiment, sent to aid the Sisters, and still had both his eyes. He was also his squad's plasma gunner. Patrolling the Jungle near where the Cult's dark altars had been found, Kalus's squad had found something disturbing- a Warp Corrupted Clearing. The thick foliage made it difficult to tell where the rest of the Imperial forces were. The squad's sergeant, Sgt. Mallix, had attempted to raise the Kasirkin patrolling parallel to them, but had received only static. Literally. A group of Possessed Chaos Marines had charged out of the jungle, cutting half the squad down in almost an instant, in a storm of claws and tentacles and daemon flame. The sergeant dead, Kalus had been in command. He ordered his men to stand firm and fire, but they fled, leaving him alone, facing 8 twisted creatures that had once been the Emperor's finest. Standing his ground, Kalus had been terrified as he fired into the mass of monstrosities. His plasma gun had cut down 5 of the horrors before they'd crossed the clearing, vaporising chests and heads and limbs with superheated death. But there were too many. Less than 10 feet away, the remaining 3 closed in. Their bestial roars deafened him, and he felt the heat of their stinking foetid breath on his sweating skin. Until the angels appeared. A squad of Seraphim screamed down, jets roaring, ploughing into the hideous things, knocking them to ground and dispatching them ruthlessly. Kalus had stood there stunned. he had never seen such a beautiful sight. The squad leader had turned to him, and asked him where his squad was. When he replied those who hadn't been killed had routed, the leader asked him, curiously, why he had not. Kalus had shrugged. He didn't know. The rest of the Sister's company had emerged, and the Canoness had ordered him to accompany them to rejoin the others. As they marched, the Canoness had praised his courage, calling him a credit to the Guard. Kalus felt embarrassed at the compliment. He felt like a fraud. He had been lucky, nothing more. Lucky to be the squad's heavy weapon carrier. Lucky the angels had saved him. When they rejoined the main group, the Canoness had repeated her praises to his Commissar. That was how he'd won the Imperial Silver Star. He had worn it only once, during the ceremony. After that he had locked it away, in a drawer. He hadn't earned it. Half the squad had died. His Sergeant, a far better leader than he, had been slain. It was pure, blind luck. Truth was, he had been so scared, his brain had shut down. His body had reacted purely on instinct and training. He wasn't a hero- he had just been a terrified Corporal. Now he was a terrified ex-sergeant. He'd lost everything, and was on yet another mission he wasn't meant to survive. He should have died 9 years ago. Maybe then his squad wouldn't have been killed by Moloch-Pigs because of him. Maybe he wouldn't be about to see another group of innocent young men killed by horrific abominations. Conflicted, his mind in turmoil, Ander Kalus marched on through the dark tunnel alone. |
Pulitzer Laureate Posts: 824 Joined: 22 Mar 2008 | Looking down into the darkness ahead, Mc felt some unease from the dark. It felt as if turning a corridor would reveal a whole nest of monsters, or even worse. Just knowing that he had no real idea of what could be worse than a creature that was once a man, or the utter strangeness and horrifying aliens called the Tyranids made Mc's stomach roil. But he had no choice in the matter, he would simply have to scream a warning if he happened to walk into hell, which he could well imagine in the dark underground. As the entrance vanished behind Mc, he switched his head light on as well as his lasgun light. The beams cut through the darkness, illuminating the knife attached to the rifles barrel and past scenes of desperation. Carefully stepping over the faded, torn remains of some soldiers and a huge ork skeleton, Mc's foot kicked into something unseen in the dark. Lasgun flashing to ready, he found his rifle pointing to the small skeletal frame of a human child who still had a over sized knife in its frame, crude symbols gouged into its handle. Kneeling down for a closer inspection, Mc unearthed a severed dolls head among the rags which presumably were once a girls dress. Placing the doll back, Mc continued down the tunnel, mentally shaken by his discovery. But it got worse, progessively more and more of the dead appeared, some piled on each other as if they had trampled each other to escape the monsters behind them. A sudden feeling of nausua gripped him, and he fell to the dusty floor momentarily grounded. |
Gone Gonzo  Posts: 1287 Joined: 29 Jan 2008     | The winds, they are a changing. The wind blew over the ravaged battle lands. The breeze caused tattered banners to wave with long-forgotten glory. It caused the strewn remains of countless wars to move once more; bones rattled as they were disturbed from their resting place. The rusted and decrepit remains of vehicles lay strewn about, creaking on their axles as the wind upset their equilibrium. Dust and debris slowly eroded at the masonry of the ruined buildings. It was not merely the wind that was destroying the building on this day, however. Great punctures were being driven into the side of a granite wall by an unseen force. It looked as though the wall was a pane of glass, finally splintering from years of strain and the natural laws of physics. This, however, was no act of nature. Like a great spider it descended. Massive, scythe-like forearms drove themselves into the rock like climbing pitons. Clawed hands grasped onto the bare wall, allowing for speeds that should not have been allowed. All the while its skin matched the colour of the granite surface, making the beast invisible to even the keen eyes of an Eldar. The monstrous beast suddenly leapt to the ground, pulverizing rubble and remains under its mass. The creature stalked through the warzone, slithering unseen between the wrecked hulls. It paused abruptly, as its many glowing eyes scanned around for signs of danger. A tense moment passed, after which the creature became visible unexpectedly. The Lictor breathed slowly, while the tentacles that comprised its face whipped fervently around. Suddenly, the feelers stopped in mid-air, all moving to point in the same direction, and the monstrous beast tensed up. Momentarily pausing, the Lictor soon sped off, resuming its chameleonic nature. The winds are the only warning... Once more the winds raged over the ancient battlefield. As before, they carried slow demise in the form of eroding particles. But ever since the Lictor had come and gone, they carried something new...something that would bring a much swifter demise. Of the coming storm. |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 1208 Joined: 22 Apr 2008 | Lictor. Shit. Reisner carefully picked his way through the tunnel, trying to be completely silent. Not because it might hear him, that was a given, but rather so that he might have a chance to hear it. No way would he see it in this gloom-cloaked tunnel, but hear it? Perhaps. Perhaps that would even give him enough of a warning to open fire. Perhaps. Probably not, though. The light strapped to his head pierced the darkness, making everything ethereal and unreal. He had attached a red filter to the light a while back, because he'd heard that red light didn't destroy your night vision like white light did. So far it seemed to be working. On the other hand, it was making everything look even creepier, so maybe it was a mixed blessing. He heard something, a small clink in the darkness ahead of him. He paused, listening with every fiber of his being, the heavy stubber braced and at the ready. Nothing. He took a cautious step and froze again. Nothing. Reisner advanced, weapon at the ready. His right arm burned with renewed pain where the hybrid had stabbed him but he ignored it. Nothing mattered now except for the tunnel in front of him, the stubber in his hands, and the death that was out there somewhere. He could feel it getting closer. Was the Commissar mad, sending them all off alone like this? Maybe the hybrid had scrambled his brains more than was evident? No. Such thoughts were treasonous; worse, they were despairing. And Reisner refused to admit to despair. What was it that he had heard said, worlds away in another battle? That corporal, that's who said it, the one who was the last officer of any kind left alive. "Boys, looks like we're all going to die today. Been nice knowing ya." Maybe that wasn't the inspirational thought Reisner had been looking for. His memory wasn't all that good when it came to distinguishing between battles. The corporal had died, he remembered. Reisner hadn't. Reisner had survived. Maybe that was the lesson he was looking for, maybe not. He hadn't for an instant given in to that horrible fatality where nothing mattered anymore. He had survived. And he would survive this, no matter the cost. Luctor et emergo |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 1892 Joined: 22 Jul 2008 | There is no love here, and there is no pain ... Ploy-ink. Ploy ink. Shanks been hearing it for at least the past 10 minutes, but it didn't seem to be getting any closer. He still felt slightly groggy, he'd been woken in the Chimera and informed of what had happened. It seemed they had won. Unless the entire squad had been taken over by the Xenos and its some elaborate trap.. but thoughts like that were too terrifying to bear. At least he was feeling less paranoid, the knock-out left him with just a feeling of being pissed off. The helmet had dented and cracked, and several fangs were embedded in it. It was probably still serviceable, but it was also covered in blood. Shanks had thrown it away. Ploy-ink. Ploy ink. The tunnel felt narrow, it was tubelike, but with a flattened bottom, it appeared green as he held the scope up to his eyes. There was nothing ahead, no movement, no anything besides more of the same tunnel. It was entirely possible that he was walking a loop and not noticing it. It was boredom. But for there was nothing trying to kill him, so he was thankful for that. He decided to keep the scope up to his eyes anyway, watching out for the markings Valios had told them of. Ploy-ink. Ploy ink. A mag line, like on Pax. No wonder it feels familiar. The Phoenicianz and their counterparts had spent a lot of time round the stations, but very little on the trains themselves. Felgrin had actually only ever ridden the system twice: The first time when he was a child, his parents had booked a family trip to Lower Alesia, the only verdant settlement on Pax. He lifted the scope up again. It's like this tunnel just went on, I can imagine extending away into the darkness forever. Still no signs for Pricipa Graad either. Frackin' 'nids must be bored of the monotony too, no sign of them. Ploy-ink. Ploy ink. The second time was the overland journey to Carthage. He had enjoyed that considerably less than the holiday. No signs for Pricipa Graad either. Wonder if the others are having any luck. Hope its not Reisner's tunnel thats the one, fried kecs bound to miss it. O'Doole will notice it, as long as he's not too busy offering a prayer. Kalus will see it for sure, that eyes bound to come in handy. No idea about Mc, and Hilengal, well- Hilengal. That look on his face, the seizure. He didn't want to think about Hilengal. Ploy-ink. Ploy ink. If we do find this palace, whats the bet I'm gonna be the one who has to take the warboss out? Not that I'm the best soldier here, but we're only a small group on a frackin' suicidal mission and I have a feeling the Commissar is gonna ask the sniper to make the shot if he needs it. Emperors teeth says he will. Frack. A few steps later he finally the source of the dripping. A burst pipe in a crack in the roof, eeking out the last dregs of water into a sizable puddle on the track. Well thats one thing less to worry about. He pulled his cloak tighter against the moisture in the air, and walked on. Ploy-ink. Ploy ink. |
On the Record Posts: 6465 Joined: 24 Apr 2008 |
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Gone Gonzo Posts: 3740 Joined: 18 Dec 2007 | A Lictor the commissar had said... a Lictor. What was that? Helingal wondered as he walked down the tunnel. Climbing over the rubble and scrap metal he made slow movement through the tunnel, slow but purposeful. The pain had started to subdue and about time too. He had headaches before but never this bad or for this long. It was strange, why now? Why when those things showed themselves? He was glad to be walking down the tunnel alone, it gave him time to think and gather his thoughts. In all his life he had never had a moment alone like he had now. He relished every moment of it. After a short while he came to a deserted Tram-car. It stood silently in the centre of the tunnel. It was the only way to move through the tunnel. He sighed and climbed in, and turned on his light to get a clear view of the interior. It hurt for a minute as his eyes adjusted and the Tram-car came into focus. He looked around, it was devoid of life, thank god! The prospect of anything living down here terrified him. He had seen what lived in tunnels first hand for the first time a sort time ago, he had no intention of fighting again. He walked through the carriage, stopping occasional to check closets and baggage holders. He found some clothes and a mop scattered through out the carriage but nothing else interesting. He walked towards the open back door of the corridor and jumped down, something cracking when his feet hit the ground. He signed the light from his helmet on what laid at his feet. A white reflection blinded him and made him trip over, turning off his light. He felt around his feet for what made that noise and found something round and smooth, like a stone, except it was hollow and a hole underneath it... and two other holes. Frag, frag, FRAG! he yelled in his mind A skull, shit, shit! What do I do? Shit! He wanted to yell but a mixture of common sense and fear stopped him. He didn't know what lied dormant in these tunnels. He bent down and placed the skull on the ground, silently and slowly. Smoothly he walked back and breathed slowly. Okay, think this through Hel, think it through. He closed his eyes and thought it through. He hoped a Hybrid didn't kill that person. He hopped a Hybrid didn't wait to kill him. Slowly he moved his shaking and to the side of his helmet and flicked the switch. The light turned on and he brought his gun up. The tunnel was empty. Just like it had been five minutes ago. His pulse rate slowed and his heart relaxed. He looked down at the bones, only about half a body was in front of him. It was cut in two a long on the track. Lucky bastard only got hit by the train, Emperor be praised he didn't suffer too much. |
Pulitzer Laureate Posts: 824 Joined: 22 Mar 2008 | The silent visage of the shadow watches the cracked screen of the monitors. Secreted camera's send their feed directly to this hidden room, informing the shadowy figure of the presence of soldiers who clambour alone in the underground tunnels of the cities railway system. A hidden smile is illuminated as the sniper/ninja/shadow leans forward, the cracked screen loses its illuminating glow and the shadow disappears without a trace, nor a whisper of sound as the steady drip-drip echoes through the now dead tunnels of the underground railway. All that is left on the scene is the still warm seat, and even that fades away into the enclosing dark. In other words, bump. |
Pulitzer Laureate Posts: 824 Joined: 22 Mar 2008 | Oh no, I've killed another thread! Again! I'M A MONSTER! |
On the Record Posts: 6465 Joined: 24 Apr 2008 |
A clicking of boots on marble. The tap of perfectly manicured hands on keys. Exquisite eyes scan and the reader propels herself down the hall towards the bridge. It is a long walk. It is a large ship. She flashes a hand at a scanner and struts inside, commands ring to officers, her ship banks and turns with a groan and begins to lumber towards Atheria. She brushes aside an errant hair as she would a rebel insurrection and summons and astropath. She dictates a message and sends the man about is business. The might of his Emperor's holy inquisition Ordo Hereticus knows no laxity, its vigilance is unwavering and its wrath tireless. She would be the conductor of that instrument... But the astropath would send the message. No conductor was anything without an orchestra. _______________________________________________________________________________ Oddly enough, a similar scene played out on the other side of the galaxy. But the person in question was male. And the Ordo Xenos did not take to intrusions on its territory well. |
On the Record Posts: 6465 Joined: 24 Apr 2008 | Valios brushed aside moss, Pricipa Graad read the concrete. Bingo! He cracked a glow stick and dropped it below the marking before heading back towards the junction. Things could be worse, they had a long journey through a relatively safe passage to an enemy he could certainly outsmart and definitely outmaneuver, the tiny squad he commanded giving him an ease of movement that made up for his lack of firepower. They were good men, he had been harsh but he should congratulate them when they got back to the junction on their behaviour. He kicked aside a corpse, and pushed side a large statue as he went, the harsh stone of its surface moving aside with ease. Must be on a loader. He picked his way across the debris of the tracks as he made his way back to the men. He radioed them as he walked "Get back you grunts, uncle Valios did your job for you it seems" He shouted into the mouth-piece. Good men, certainly, but undisciplined. Without him he imagined they would run around like chickens with their heads cut off! The irony was certainly thick when the statue came to life and decapitated him. The Lictor didn't bother to eat the mans brain, it simply skittered around the corpse and bounded back towards where it knew the other prey would converge. Radios made its sense buzz and they meant men would move. Men were like cattle, they moved towards one another. But it would not kill them, no, it needed them to lead him to more of them. Then, right when they would alert the new prey... it would slay them all and move onto the next group. Before, when Valios had first marched off with his men, Sergeant Groden had crested the hill behind them. He had run for weeks from the beast and now... was safe! He was about to call out to Valios and warn him, when the Lictor had run his through with its massive talon. It would stalk and assimilate, demoralize and terrorize, ready for the arrival of the hive fleet. It would eat brains to gather information, sucking tentacles probing into grey matter to gather data on force organization, the scents of high ranking officers and dwelling fears it could capitalize on in its attack. Commisar Taekin came around the corner with his 5 men, and spotted the dozen men with Groden and rejoiced. They had survived the beast! He was about to shout for help, warn the Sergeant of the Lictor, when the beast dropped from the roof onto him. It swung its great talons and killed two more men in under a second. The last three were about to scream when the 10-foot monstrosity shot its flesh hooks into their necks. A lictor operated independently from the hive fleet, an agent with a license to slaughter, a writ to massacre. Captain Mallen emerged from the sewer.... a Commissar and twenty men in the distance... he had survived the beast! This new pack of guardsman under the Valios-creature was no different from those under Groden, under Taekin, under Mallen, under Sorn, under Havarn, under Justern, under.... All would fall. ___________________________________________________________________________________ When the troopers reached the junction, they could not find Valios. Without new orders, they advanced down the tunnel towards the glowing light. They never noticed the corpse as they walked past it. They never noticed the grinning head even as one tripped over it, thinking it some rock. They never gave the statue a second thought as they pushed their way past.
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Gone Gonzo Posts: 2163 Joined: 15 Jun 2008 | Ander Kalus was worried. There was no sign of Valios, and all the Guardsmen being clustered together like this was playing hell with his eye's thermal setting- there was too much body heat around. Even the statues were reading as life-signs. It was frustrating. Kalus opted for normal setting, since the other grunts were using their lights anyway. Hopefully the target tracking on his eye was still working properly- he might be able to see the Lictor's distortion when it moved. Valios was the only one who knew what they were supposed to be doing, and where they were going. Kalus hoped he was still alive, and not Lictor food. He deserved better than getting his brain munched- he was a hard bastard, but at least he was better then that treacherous scumbag Ulvar. Trudging on down the tunnel towards the Ork settlement, Kalus kept his eyes peeled for any trouble. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand- he was no good to anyone if he panicked. We have a job to do. We are the Imperial Guard. Xenos or no Xenos, we will survive this. Most of us. I hope. Steeling himself, Kalus gripped his lasgun tighter and marched down the dank, echoing concrete tunnel. |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 1058 Joined: 2 Jul 2008 | Devlyn had had enough, there was only so much utter terror a soldier could take, and between this reality and the memories it was dragging up, he was having some problems coping. It did not help to discover their Commissar was absent. This is too much, Valios was the only one who knew what was where, and what to expect. Without a leader O'Doole was feeling more than a little hopeless. Cheer up, soldier, this isn't the first Commissar leading you that's fragged off...of course, they all died horrifically... Things weren't so bad, however; Devlyn had his flamer, he still had nine of his fingers, and Kalus seemed to know what he was doing, if not where he was going. As long as Orks didn't come charging in their hordes, or that Lictor wasn't behind them, things could turn out okay...of course, there was that Genestealer nest as well, and there was always the possibility that more hybrids would turn up. Things would probably not turn out okay. |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 1208 Joined: 22 Apr 2008 | Reisner watched everything out of the corner of his eye, looking for movement in the tunnel. He had the feeling he got occasionally, the deep, gut-wrenching feeling that meant something was seriously wrong. It had started soon after he had recieved the radio message from Valios, and had been reinforced when the Comissar hadn't been at the junction to meet them. The glowstick was marking the tunnel to Pricipa Graad, but there was no sign of the man who placed it. Where was he? Reisner kept towards the wall and kept a firm grip on the stubber, the feeling of wrongness twisting in his guts. Lictor. They could move almost silently, couldn't they? Invisible, silent, unnaturally fast. Had the beast killed Valios? He hoped not, but the evidence pointed to the contrary. Something had killed the Commissar, and if not the lictor than it was something equally as deadly. Reisner watched, stone-faced, trying to avoid having his night-vision ruined by the fools with the bright lights around him. He was having dubious success. His eyes scanned the tunnel for something he hoped was not there. The squad was surrounded by concealing darkness and the carnage of old battles. Where was the Commissar? Where was the Lictor? Questions that needed answers, questions that he suspected would never be answered until it was too late. |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 1892 Joined: 22 Jul 2008 | Shanks plodded along apprehensively. No doubt Valios was waiting up ahead, ready to teach them a lesson for making too much noise, or not adjusting their weapon slings correctly. In the meantime they all followed Kalus, deferring to his experience and former authority. Shanks whispered to him, he didn't know why, probably because everyone else was quiet and he didn't dare break it. Or incur the wrath of the Commissar in ambush. "That thing, the lictor, the one the Commissar was talking about. Is it really as bad as he says?" Kalus suppressed a shudder. Besides, he suppressed his own shudder as he looked around at the squad, lingering on Helingal[i]I'm more was concerned about parasites in the squad an invisible caterpillar. Maybe thats the wrong attitude though, it's clearly ratlled even the hardened ex-sergeant and resident tough bastard. "So how do you kill them? How do you stop them?" "When they move, you can just about see their outline. Also, they have a heat signature. As for killing them- hell, lasguns aren't too effective. O'Doole's flamer might come in handy though- even if it doesn't kill it, we can see it if it's alight. That Stubber could probably do some damage. Your long-las might work in a pinch. Me, I'm down to trying to shove a grenade down its maw when it tries to eat my brain." Thinking the older man was joking, Shanks gave a small chuckle "Heh, good luck with that." They trudged on, ever closer to city and whatever else lay ahead. |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 3740 Joined: 18 Dec 2007 | Helingal felt someone looking at him. He thought he could hear Kalus and Shanks talking behind him. Where they talking about him? It didn't seem likely that they would when they have much more urgent matters at hand. Such as the lack of a commander. Where the hell was he? He would have met us back at the Junction wouldn't he? What sort of a commander would leave his squad when a "Licktor" was on the prowl. And what was a "Licktor" anyway, or was it pronounced "Lictor", he wasn't sure. And who came up with name? It's not a very good way to keep moral, if he needed to name something he would call it something less mysterious, less deadly like "Carl" or something like that, yeah something more friendly. Might cause some problems with people called Carl but that is a rare name. I wonder why Carl is a rare name? I like the name Carl... He realised that his mind was racing and his brow had started to sweat. Must be the fear doing this he reasoned and tried to get it out of his mind. He concentrated on the end of the tunnel, or as far as he could see, this tunnel went on miles. He listened intently for any noise, any sign of danger. All he could hear was a drip and the noises of the squad. The shuffling of steps, the shaking of equipment, breathing, things like that. It gave them away to anything waiting in this tunnel. But it was best not to think about that. Don't even contemplate that. Just keep your eyes front, pray to the Emperor and never stop shooting and you'll do fine. Thats what they said when the gave him his first gun. They never said anything about this. He took off his helmet and wiped his brow. Sweat covered his gloved hand. And his headaches... that was strange. It had never been that bad before and it lasted for longer then usual. It must be the air here. He figured. It must be. Where the rest of the squad worried about him. He hopped that they where but it was more than likely they only cared about their own hides. But they wouldn't be affraid someone because he has a headache. Sure they might keep an eye on me in a battle but they wouldn't but it wont cause them fear. Maybe the fear that I'll screw up somewhere but it wouldn't be anything else would it? But why is one of them looking at me like that? He put the helmet on and looked forward. Soon they will be out of this tunnel and they will see Valios and everything will be better. Just stay optimistic he told himself and everything will be alright. |
On the Record Posts: 6465 Joined: 24 Apr 2008 |
Tentacles twitch. That one, and that one and that one. Three ones, three that knew it, knew it's smell and knew how to fight the creature it came from. They had seen a Lictor before... those who survived his kind were few and could possibly do it again. It smelt the scent of much life at the end of this tunnel. Odds were calculated, cold logic driven by blind instinct ticked over and the best course of action assessed; Terminate the threat, continue on towards to probable life settlement, Incite hybrid population to riots and sow discord. The Hive Mind was an engine of precision and harsh calculation to best even the Imperium's own callous outlook. And it had deemed these 8 men a threat, and now its finest single instrument for assassination set its alien sights upon them. It moved forward as silently as something a thousand times smaller and just as unseen, it would be simple, approach from behind, kill 5 without them noticing and then the remainder when they turned to investigate the noise of falling corpses. Calculation? Total termination in under a single heartbeat... no more than a second. ----- The last ever act of Commisar Krystan Valios was in death, when his rigor mortis caused his corpse-hand to squeeze tight upon his chainsword and send the blade chewing across the floor towards the wall. All 8 men turned at the sound, when the chainsword impacted with the glowstick left on the ground and sent it spinning into the air. All 8 men saw the monsters silhouette as it failed to compensate for the light by a fraction of a second. ----- New assesment... ternimation reassessed. Incite fear in prey and conquer when divided ----- The thing screeched and spread its claws, going a bright yellow in places to break its shape and make it even more horrifically monstrous in the black of the tunnel. Moving as fast as a car it jumped and leapt making it a frenzy of bright lines in the darkness of the tunnel and sent the flashlights of the troopers spinning and weaving. They dove for the ample debris on either side of the central track.
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Gone Gonzo Posts: 2163 Joined: 15 Jun 2008 | At the sound of a chainsword, Ander Kalus spun around to look behind the squad. He flipped his eye to thermal, and there it was. Huge. Deadly. Right. Fragging. There. It was hot, hotter than the guards. It leapt forward, it's claws clacking on the concrete. "Scatter!" It was him yelling, more on instinct than any kind of plan. He dived behind a convenient pile of rubble. Kalus hit the ground hard with a grunt. Popping his head over the top of the rubble, he saw it. The Lictor was not trying to stay properly camouflaged, which was odd- like it wanted them to know it was there. it's trying to panic us! he realised. It's fragging working too. Kalus's eye was tracking it at least, for all the good it would do. The other Guardsmen seemed to be finding cover. The Lictor wasn't attacking yet, as if it was unsure of what to do. It wasn't the only one. Oh gods, not again. Not another massacre. Unbidden, an old prayer surfaced in Kalus's mind, one he hadn't heard for 9 years: From the the lightning, and the tempest, Emperor deliver us! It didn't make him feel any calmer. |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 1058 Joined: 2 Jul 2008 | Run. Hide. Live. Devlyn ran. He did not need to clearly make out the shape to know what it was. He knew that for the second time in his life, his mortality was down to simple probability - whether or not he would be one of those deemed a threat. For the second time in his life, it was time to draw straws, and should he draw the wrong one - It'll decapitate me and eat my brain because this is a Lictor not a fragging straw! His mind babbling in utter terror, O'Doole ran as fast as his tired legs could carry him. Run. Hide. Live. Somewhere behind someone shouted "Scatter!", and Devlyn stopped. Can't be at the back, too far back, it'll take me. Devlyn hid. He turned, and ran behind nearby cover - something that may have once been a vehicle, or a large container, but was now a crumpled, burnt wreck of metal. He pressed his back up against the cover, raised his flamer, and tried to focus on his peripheral vision - tried to make out any movement. Run. Hide. Live. None of us are getting out of here alive. |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 1208 Joined: 22 Apr 2008 | Reisner turned at the sound. Saw the thing rising up out of the darkness, the strobing light blinding him, the claws outstretched. Heard the sound, the inhuman screech and the clatter as it struck out, the roar of the dead man's chainsword in the enveloping gloom. He wasn't sure how he got behind the shell of the train car, a moment after the thing had appeared. A voice shouted from accross the tunnel, but he couldn't hear what it was saying through the screeching of death. The metal car he was hiding behind rocked as something struck it, and he dived back even further, sliding beneath a twisted mass of metal that might once have been a vehicle. A jagged edge drew a line of blood across his face, but he didn't notice. It's here, the lictor is here! The stubber, would it do anything against such a beast? Did he dare fire it? He might hit the rest of the squad...but to do nothing might doom them anyway. Light flashed into his hole and he flinched back, trying to swing the stubber to point out the opening in the tight confines of his hiding place. The ear-rending screeching sounded closer now, the strobing lights flashed by. Reisner didn't make any noise. He just lay there and prayed, his weapon pointing at the opening of his hole. If he was going to die today, then he would make sure whatever killed him payed for his death. Lictor |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 1892 Joined: 22 Jul 2008 | I didn't die and I ain't complainin'... Matris futor! Bovi serpicis! Emperors divine left testicle!! No. Fracking. Way. Terror was chasing them. That was all it could be described as. An utter and complete terror from the blackest depths of the universe had tracked them down and was hell bent on exterminating everyone last one of them. Some ran, some panicked. No one dared fire. No wanted to attract terrors attention. You don't frack with terror. You just don't frackin' do it. You frack with terrror and it will rip your face off, eat your brain and devour your still beating heart... ...Because it can. Because its terror. And it does whatever it can to frack the shit out of you. Thats why you don't frack with terror. Because it will beat you with experience. Shanks was paralyzed. Thoughts raced with through his mind but he stood still. Maybe... just maybe if I stand still it won't notice me. Give it a taste of some of my camouflage eh? That'd show- Hey, get you finger off that damn trigger! Don't you frackin' DARE try to be a hero! Someone yelled scatter. It was the instruction he had been craving. Diving off to the side of the track as the juggernaut of terror approached he dived under a tram car, belly crawling along the rough ground, each leg movement pushing him further to safety. He heard footsteps in the carriage above. Is it there? Ready to burst through the floor and cut me up? Does it even have feet? Emperors teeth where did it go? Calm down, your still alive, for now. Valios. He could handle this. Why had the Commissar abandoned them now? Surely he was about to charge out from behind the rubble, gunning the terror down. But know, he's bailed. What a kec. Probably running back to HQ with stories of our desertion. Or maybe not, maybe he will jump out, Chainsword at the ready, like with those hyrbrids- -Frack. Chainsword. The Commissars chainsword... No one else had a Chainsword... Frack. ============================== |
Gone Gonzo Posts: 3740 Joined: 18 Dec 2007 | At first Helingal didn't know what he saw, a trick of the light, a hallucination or maybe just a stature. Whatever it was that he saw wasn't the Lictor the commissar had spoken of, it couldn't be. It wouldn't be. It will not be. It will never be. Please Emperor don't let it be! He heard someone yell, scream, in front of him and everyone ran. They ran in different directions, fear leading their feet but he stood still. Confusion held him still. He couldn't see a lictor. There was no lictor. There was a hallucination, there was a figment of the mind, there was some light, there where some strange noises, there was that moving shape but there was no Lictor. There was no Lictor! Why where they running? Why where they screaming? There was nothing there but a trick. Why where they afraid of a trick. It didn't make sense. He gave a quick chuckle and aimed his rifle down the tunnel. He found himself laughing at his companions, why did they run away like that? Like mice they where. Like mice. But still he aimed his rifle and the silhouette of the trick. He knew it wasn't real but something... deep down... told him it was. Something small told him to kill it. He fired his rifle down the tunnel and hit the trick of the light rushing towards him. The shot only grazed the creature on the side of the face, hitting some tendrils. The creature didn't ignore the shot, it looked directly at who had fired it and it was at that instant that Helingal knew he saw no trick of the light, no hallucination, no mirage, no dream, no statue, no confusion. It was a monster. A monster who wanted him dead. It took him a few deadly seconds to learn that for himself. He ran backwards and to then to the left. He ran towards a pillar that with many others separated the tram lines. He stood behind it, panting. He had only ran ten metres but he felt as if he had ran a thousand. Realising he had dropped his rifle the young recruit drew his pistol and held it next to his face. He didn't dare to look out from the pillar. He looked to his right and waited. He waited for the Lictor. |
On the Record Posts: 6465 Joined: 24 Apr 2008 |
The Lictor was moving fast. He was moving faster, artificial muscles in his body suit pumping with his own impressive form to send him rocketing down the tracks, mask reading thermal, audible, visual and ethereal signals and pumping directly into his brain. Reflexes honed over years made the decision in an instant. Drawing his Exodus pistol he fired on the run, accuracy a machine could not achieve at this speed landing shells in gaps and joints. The beast turned and evaluated. The newcomer smelt of nothing, he was a threat. Flesh hooks quivered and launched, tearing down the corridor as fast as an arrow from an ancient earth weapon. The man did not change course, but he leapt and spun, cartwheeling past the living spikes before continuing to close with the Lictor. Now he unslung his powerful Exodus rifle, fingers found the bolt and pulled it back, a massive round found the chamber and he gripped it by the butt. The Lictor readied its claws, great talons up like a mantis to both intimidate and strike if needed. But first it had one more trick. Flesh hooks were still attached to it, and now it reeled them in, the wicked barbs just as deadly as they returned, the speed with which they were recalled pulling them into the air. Barbs designed to hold in rockrete ready to dig into flesh and steel with ease. They would catch onto the Assassin and reel him into those killing claws, it was inevitable. The Vindicare reacted with perfect timing. He tossed the rifle at the lictor, high and ready to arc over it. The Lictor registered the miss, and deemed the projectile not a threat. The Vindicare looked at the Whipping cords of flesh that were about to send deadly spikes into his back. He acted with one thought, arms shot out and he grabbed onto them. Jerking forward he pulled his legs forward and accelerated into the lictor with a two legged kick faster than the beast could react. Pulled off balance the Lictor took the kick to the chest, its massive 10 foot frame absorbing the blow easily and it rocked back. But the Vindicare let go, and using a quick jump redirected his motion upwards, to leave him hanging, still, in the air above the lictor. He reached out a hand and caught the rifle... The barrel swung down and time slowed for the Lictor and the Human as they stared at each other eyes. The Assassin into the inhuman orbs of the Tyranid, and the Lictor into the Mask of the Man. The sound of the shot was deafening. A round designed to deal with everything from a Warboss to a Daemon slammed out of the barrel, dark technosorcery built into it and blessed runes from a hundred priests sending it like a wrathful comet into the forehead of the Lictor, it penetrated bone and flesh to blast out of the things rear, and bury metres into the solid earth and 'crete. ---- That entire exchange took 4 seconds. ---- The Vindicare landed like a cat and chambered another round, a quick sweep declared all threats absent and it categorized the life signs of the troopers as his objective. "Guardsman, by order of the Inquisition and the Department Assassinorium i am to retrieve the beacon entrusted to your deceased commander. It was not on his body" Silence. He repeated, voice slightly raised to bring them out of shock. "Guardsman, by orde- He was interrupted "Deceased? He was alive last we heard" The Assassin gave him a look "It would be hard to hear from hi otherwise, he fell prey to the Lictor, you would have passed his corpse." He repeated again "I require the beaco-" "Its gone, Valios said the Orks had it, and by now it would be in the hands of the Warboss" Said one. The Assassin was taken aback. He requested further information and the quad relayed all that had happened to him. He thought for a moment before replying. "I Have contacted the inquisition for aid, but without that beacon to requisition immediate support they will be too late to save the planet" He said "It must be retrieved" "We're already on our way to do that. Pricipa Mons is at the end of this tunnel." Said one "As is an Ork guard post, you will accompany me into the lower levels of the Hive and we will make our own way to the palace" Said the Assassin. "In 200 meters there is an access shaft, we will climb it" He marched off, rifle still held ready. The guardsman were still immobilized, the steaming corpse of the Lictor taking up their attention. The Vindicare turned and flashed a laser sight over them, when they looked up again he motioned for them to follow. They moved out
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Gone Gonzo Posts: 2354 Joined: 14 Sep 2007 | Marko had squeezed off a few haphazard shots at the Lictor, but as the mass of chitin and alien rage bore down upon him, he knew it was hopeless. He ran back as fast as he could, stopped as he tripped over a rock. Except, when he'd turned around, it wasn't a rock. It was the Commisar's head, frozen in a ghastly rictus. In his dying moments, he contemplated the overall worthlessness of his life, his failure in battle and the waste of Imperium resources he was. The next thing he knew, he was staring up at a slim, black figure. It was probably human technology, and bore the cold design of the Imperium in that everything that stood before him was concentrated towards one purpose, with nothing unncesary permitted. And yet it still maintained a sort of beauty in it, like a shadow fashioned into a weapon. It had asked him and the squad questions. He'd have answered, if it wasn't for the adrenaline rush and for the unmoving head at his feet. In a chemical stoop, Marko marched off after the Vindicare. |
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The screams of the Hybrids as the charged at the squad removed Helingal from his pain-induced state, the fear and possibility of death placed the headache to the side. His mind wouldn't let him die on the ground, not today. He slowly rose from the dirt and drew his pistol, fighting had erupted around him and he had no idea what to do. He stood still, in a daze as his companions fought the horrors that had enveloped them. Eventually one of the Hybrids had found him, a creature without a target of it's own it searched hungrily for someone to destroy. Anyone.
The creature ran at Helingal from behind, screaming like a crazed beast as it lunged at him. A quick dodge to the side put Helingal behind the creature and right in front of his line of sight. It truly was an abomination, a monster in the eyes of an Ork. The thing turned around and snarled at Helingal from its two mutated jaws. It's eyes rolled back into its head and two long serpent like tongues started to lick its lips. Seizing his one chance, Helingal aimed his pistol at the abomination and fired, missing it completely. He couldn't hit anything, not in his state. His world was moving, swaying left and right. He tried to take a step forward only to nearly fall over. He couldn't fight like this. There was still pain flowing through his body. He was weak.
The creature was disappointed. It wanted a good fight against someone as strong as him, not against some dizzy kid who couldn't aim for his. Still, a meal was a meal and he needed the meat. He desperately needed the meat. It had been weeks since had feed himself on human, his kin didn't cut it. He ran at Helingal, a knife held above his head, ready for the killing blow. He wanted to gut this one real good, get a new pike and put his skull on it. That would look good. But most of all he wanted food, he needed it like the Emperor need's the souls of the willing. He wanted nothing more then something to satisfy his ravenous hunger with the meat of his enemies.
Helingal became dimly aware of the creature running at him, something held above his head. Something metallic. A knife! He moved, just in time, to avoid the blow. Moving to the left of the creature he had a clear shot at his exposed flank. He fired a shot into the creatures arm. It roared with pain and dropped the knife. His eyes blazed with fury as he delivered a punch into Helingals face, sending him sprawling on his back.
The creature received the knife; he licked the blade with his two forked tongues and stood over Helingal, knife pointing downwards. The creature snarled and spit at the helpless boy that lay below him, savouring the thought of the meal to come. He drew the knife back, about to lunge it into Helingals stomach when he noticed the flash of movement in the boy's hand. He held something grey, something pointed straight at him... red...
The creature slumped next to Helingal, the top half of its head removed by the las-pistol. He gave a quick thanks to the emperor and stood up, dimly aware of his surroundings. He rubbed his head and sheathed his pistol when something tackled him to the ground from behind, the creature he had thought dead loomed over him, it's mouths biting at the air between their faces, it's tongues savouring the taste of his face. Its hunger controlled it, even after death. Helingal fought with all his strength to keep the creature away from his face, screaming at the abomination and to his companions, anything to their attention. He wouldn't die like this, not like this. Glurrk! The thing bit of one of it's tongues. Glurrk! then the other. dark blood covering both their faces. Slowly the biting had stopped. The creature gave out one last snarl before finally dieing. Helingal jumped to his feet and shoot at the corpse in front of him. He had to make sure it wouldn't get up. He fired shot after shot into the thing until eventually his headache forced him to drop to his knees and grab his head.