Tuesday 31 July 2018

Brotherhood of the Yellow King: Chapter Eleven

11:  An Explosive Flight - 

Heavy booted rapid footfalls signalled the group's approach. Shadows rushed past and the heavy footfalls receded into the distance betraying their departure. Had the passers-by been more observant they might have noticed scratches on the vent grille on the wall, or the flakes of rust on the floor beneath. Thankfully for the occupant of the vent in question they were not more observant. Carn held his breath as the latest group passed. This was the fourth, and they were getting more frequent. That suggested that they were focusing the search in this area. He would have to move soon. Further progress through the vents was not an option, the system narrowed further on and Carn was a big man, far too big to fit through the gap. He also could not hide here indefinitely, sooner or later he was going to be discovered.

His headlong flight through the corridors had lead him towards the central mining complex. He had encountered a couple more patrols, which he had eliminated, and had gone through a clip and a half of Emperor’s Fury’s precious ammunition. Soon he would have to arm himself from corpses. He had no chance to do so previously, the last couple of hours had been a mix of frantic firefights and a deadly game of cat and mouse. His re-remembered skills had been stretched to the limit as he strove to evade capture. He had had to blast his way out of several ambushes and dead cultists littered the ground where he had passed, constantly acting as a trail of bloody breadcrumbs showing his path. Eventually he had managed to break free of his pursuers and after a prolonged flight down a seemingly deserted access tunnel (though the cultists had a habit of coming out of the very walls such was their uncanny ability to ambush) he had stopped, taken a moment to think and upon hearing pursuit once again, elected to hide rather than flee.

That had been over half an hour ago by his reckoning and he decided that he could remain no longer. Once the running footsteps had receded beyond his hearing he cautiously removed the grate. Almost silently he set it on the floor and slowly descended from the vent. He replaced the grille carefully and swept the rust under a nearby crate on a pallet. His mental map was shattered, he had had no chance to recall pathways or routes during his desperate flight. Going by the build-up of industrial machinery and carts of rock he had seen recently he deduced that he was approaching the central mine, working his way deeper into Endomaw rather than an exit. He knew this was intentional, that he had been shepherded down various tunnels and paths to an area not of his choosing. Deep down Carn knew he would never leave Endomaw, the number arrayed against him was insurmountable, eventually he would be caught. But his divinely appointed task was not completed yet. He had to get word out, broadcast Larkarsky’s message somehow. Furthermore he needed proof, lest the warning be dismissed as the ravings of a clearly distressed servant of the Imperium. He had no way of knowing how he was going to get this proof. He had no way of knowing how he was going to transmit the message, given that the dataslate seemed dead, the indomitable Machine Spirit within extinguished at last. He had no way of knowing how he was going to even get out of this tunnel. All he had was his faith and that would be enough. The Aquila charm at his wrist glinted as if in affirmation of his conviction.

Carn weighed his options. He knew it was going to be impossible to remain out of combat indefinitely, it was only a matter of time before he was forced to fight. Almost unconsciously he removed his knife from his boot and dulled it in the soot and ash at his feet. More deliberately, he rubbed more ash and soot over his arms. His exertions and stress, not to mention the inherent heat underground, had resulted in him sweating profusely and his pale skin was showing through the dirt again. He also blacked his face, his mind wandering once more as he absentmindedly rubbed the dirt into his cheeks above his new beard that had grown over the last few days. Looking at the work lights above him he traced the wiring to the wall opposite, isolating the cable that powered the lumin-globes. Looking about him for any signs of activity, he crept over to the wall and reached up, slicing through the chosen wire. Immediately the tunnel plunged into darkness and he heard cries of alarm echo around him. Advantage Carn. The cultists mining suits had built in search lights but they would be of limited use. From the look of some of the more hulking figures that he had seen, sporting additional limbs and bestial features, they would no doubt have additional senses that they could utilise but he would take every edge he could. He skulked forward like a shadow, like a shadow in the night. Now he was the hunter and his pursuers the prey. A few hundred metres down the tunnel around a bend he saw beams of light up ahead, bobbing up and down as the sources swung about wildly. Carn stopped, the hum of the machinery prevented him from making out individual words but the consternation ahead was clear. He shifted his foot and felt it strike something solid and unyielding. Reaching down he felt cool metal, a track, he must be getting close.

He wouldn’t get through the group up ahead easily, they were on high alert. He suspected he might drop half the group with a surprise attack before he was overwhelmed, even with darkness as his ally. He ran through simulations and scenarios in his mind, before choosing the one with the greatest chance of success. Picking up a lump of rock he struck the track, the trick was to make it the right volume, too loud, everyone heard it and he was no better off. He needed just a couple of the group to investigate and yet still strike hard enough to make sure the sound was heard over the background noise of the active machinery. Sure enough two searchlights swung round and Carn ducked behind a couple of barrels to avoid being spotted. The lights panned across the ground, brightening the tunnel a little as the beams of light passed. The extra illumination showed the barrels in stark relief and as Carn noticed that they bore warning signs another tactical possibility presented itself as his agile mind absorbed the latest information. He waited for the lights to swing away again, deigning not to try to tempt the bearers closer. Once he was enveloped in darkness once more he put his new strategy into action. First he leaned against the barrel he was behind, it was heavy. Full, perfect. Next, as quietly and quickly as he could he punched a hole into the barrel near the bottom. A thick, viscous, sticky liquid flowed forth and an acrid yet honey sweet stench followed it. Not Promethium, something else, likely some kind of lubricant for the machines. As long as it burned, that was all Carn needed.
Carn drew Emperor’s Fury from his waistband, this shot didn’t need to be accurate, his next did. Peering back over the barrels he could see that the lights were more steady, much less agitated as the group discussed their next move, or perhaps waited for an update after reporting in. It mattered not, they would be dead soon enough. Levelling the weapon, he aimed for just below one of the lights and fired. The Emperor himself must have guided his aim as he struck true and his target dropped immediately. The reaction was immediate. All the lights swung as one in his direction and he ducked again, if he presented a target then they might fire and that would be a fiery death for him that he had no intention of experiencing. He tried to control his breathing, this would have to be timed perfectly. The lubricant continued to flow onto the floor and he prayed that their lights wouldn’t show the leaking liquid, as it was it was pooling round his boots. Grunts and shouts followed and then the sound of running. The lights jogged and jerked crazily as the cultists approached. Carn calmed himself, focusing his energies and trusting in the Emperor's guidance, placing himself under His aegis. The lights grew closer, closer, the sound of boots blending with the hum of machinery to provide a symphony building steadily to an inevitable crescendo. Closer, closer. Carn tensed like a coiled spring, he had only one chance at this. The cultists slowed, they were only metres away now, and knowing they were approaching the location of the shooter they were more cautious. Carn’s tally thus far was common knowledge at this point and they feared him. They slowed to a walk, the lights steadying and showing more barrels that Carn had failed notice. They were right on top of him when one of them stopped, noticing the liquid as it squelched underfoot.

Now.

Carn sprang, not at the cultists but over the barrels, still full enough to support his weight without being toppled. The cultists saw little more than a dark blur but swung in the direction of the noise. Carn was not as agile as he once was but managed a clumsy somersault none the less, getting as far away from the barrels as he could. He hit the ground, rolling as he did so. Gun fire came up after him as he came up into a crouch, twisting and bringing Emperor’s Fury up in both hands and firing in one action. It still wasn’t quick enough and he was struck by a few shots as he fired. His aim was true though and the reaction immediate and violent. Despite this Carn saw everything in slow motion adrenaline and focus sharpening his senses and awareness. The flash of Emperor’s Fury’s muzzle, the alarm on the cultists faces, mouths and snouts parting in snarls, the impacts on the ground stitching their way toward him. His shot moving towards the barrels. He grunted as he was hit by autogun fire, spinning to the side in an attempt to dodge further injury. He didn’t see the impact of his shot or the lubricant ignite but he felt the explosion. He tried to get to his feet but in any event was hurled through the air as the barrels ignited. The conflagration singed his hair and burned the clothes from his back and Emperor’s Fury was flung from his grasp as he was thrown from the explosion, further barrels ignited and the roar of exploding flammables was joined by the rumble of dislodged and falling rock as the tunnel caved in.

Carn hit the ground hard and lay motionless for a moment as the roar subsided, replaced by a loud ringing in his ears. He got shakily to his feet and looked back. The tunnel collapse was total, ground to celling was a pile of rock. A few twisted and broken bodies lay around the debris, some of them still burning. Carn saw Emperor’s Fury glinting in the firelight and he stumbled towards it, it took him two attempts to retrieve the gun such was the disruption to his equilibrium. He had to move, fast. The cave in had eliminated his enemies and prevented pursuit from one direction but was almost certainly going to attract attention from elsewhere. Unsteadily, he moved down the tunnel, away from the flickering flames and deeper into the darkness of the tunnel. He walked along the track, peering into the gloom. One eye was swollen and half closed and as he moved he became acutely aware of the hits he had taken from the cultists gunfire. Thankfully the majority were flesh wounds, Emperor be praised, and only one really counted as a gunshot wound, low on his right shoulder. He could feel that the bullet was still in there and suspected it had impacted his right shoulder blade. Blood flowed profusely from the wound and he attempted to staunch it with the remains of his tunic best as he was able. He turned down the first side tunnel that he could, it was less likely to lead to anywhere critical but he had to get somewhere that was not likely to be the source of reinforcements investigating the cave in. Besides the roof above him was creaking and groaning ominously and he could not be sure that he had not further damaged the entire tunnel structurally. He also seemed to have reached the extent of the circuit he had severed as presently he came across working lighting and he would swiftly be discovered should he remain in such a lit area. Even if he had been seen however, he would surely have had a moment before being recognised. Burnt, covered in ash and blood, he looked as much like a daemon or fiend from legend as an identifiable human.

But he was still human, not a mutant cultist, and he had the Emperors work to perform. Securing Emperor’s fury in his belt once more he carried on down the side tunnel as quickly as he could, back behind him he could hear commotion as booted feet pounded past and he felt quitely vindicated in his choice. He had just no idea how fortuitous his decision actually was. He had to climb a few ledges and navigate a few narrow gaps but eventually he came to a deserted processing room. The machinery here was loud, with grinding gears and engines drowning out even the residual ringing in his ears. Even better there was a medikit on the wall. Carn pillaged the kit, taking dressings, pain pills, stimm pills and emergency coagulant, laying them out on the floor. First though he had to get this bullet out of his shoulder. He grabbed a pair of forceps, and taking his knife from his boot (and sterilising it), made an incision in his shoulder. He was less dexterous with his left hand but eventually he managed to extract the round, which thankfully was still in one piece. He could feel bits of his shoulder grind as he moved it though and new that professional medical care was going to be needed, the wound being beyond his battlefield medical training to repair. 

He used the emergency coagulant to stem the blood flow and gulped down the pain pills and stimms. Dressing the wound carefully he looked about him. The room was very warm, almost intolerably so and he would not be able to stay for long. There was little else of use in the room but another more careful search of the pack revealed a plasma infuser, he jabbed the needle on the end of the device into his side and grunted. The serum within would compensate for the blood he had lost and stimulate the production of cells. A lucky find indeed, though he was inclined to believe that once again that it was the Emperor providing. He lay back for as long as he dared, waiting for the cocktail of chemicals to take effect. His head cleared, strength flowed to his muscles and his aches faded. Sufficiently resorted he rose to his feet. Even the swelling in his eye lessened and he was able to see with both for the first time in a while though his face was still encrusted in blood. The heat in the room was making him sweat heavily and streaks appeared in his camouflage, he rubbed his arms irritably and wiped his hands on what was left of his trousers, it was then that his hands hit the object in his pocket. The dataslate! He had forgotten about it entirely in the frenzied action. He removed it from his pocket and groaned as he saw the damage. Two slugs had hit the device, burying themselves in the inner workings, the explosion itself or at least his subsequent impact into the dirt had cracked the case open and twisted the shell of the device, even worse it had damaged the workings within. The device would never power up again, it was beyond repair.

Carn wept, the tears mingled with the sweat on his face and soaked into his beard. It had all been for nothing, nothing! He had failed, he had failed his Emperor. There could be no greater transgression, no greater betrayal of trust and love.
No, he refused to believe it. There had to be a way. There HAD to be.

His knife lay on the floor, it’s tip covered in blood. He scooped it up and wiped it clean with his palm. Gently, he prised open the casing of the dataslate even as he apologised to the departed Machine Spirit. Finally the case sprang free and clattered to the floor. Carn inspected the inner workings, tears stinging his eyes. He rubbed them clear and peered at the innards of the slate. He was no tech priest but he had rudimentary knowledge of machinery in general. He identified the power core, shattered by a bullet. There was the wiring leading from that to the main processing unit, that too was partially destroyed by a round. Under that however…

He flipped the chip aside with a flick of his knife. There! Under the processor, the memory shard, it was scratched and cracked, hopefully the damage was no more extreme than before. He dared not touch the crystal with a knife, instead he retrieved another soft sterile dressing from the medikit and loosened the cradle with the tip of his blade. He then held the dressing over the crystal and upended the slate. The crystal dropped into the dressing and he wrapped it carefully, placing the dressing back into it's resalable packet. This was now a cargo most precious, There was still a chance that he could access the data on the crystal if he could find a compatible machine. He dropped the carcass of the dataslate to the floor, silently thanking the Machine Spirit for its brave service. The device deserved better than such an ignoble end but he had precious little time as it was.
He had to leave this room. There was no door, he had noticed that when he first entered, but there was a chute above from which the ore was deposited. The processing machine was autonomous, there was no emergency stop rune, no way to deactivate it. Thus Carn found himself suspended above the rotating crushers and milling gears, his shoulder protesting as he pulled himself up into the chute. Thankfully the vertical ascent levelled out relatively quickly and he found himself confronted by a shaft which contained a trough and a conveyor belt. There was space enough though that he could edge alongside the trough if he was careful which was fortunate as ore was moving along the belt to the chute. He had once again been most fortunate with his timing, the Emperor watching over him still. Grunting with the effort and ensuring that the packet was still safe in his pocket, he continued along the dark passageway trying to hear above the squealing conveyor belt to see if anything was ahead.

The Stimms started to wear off and as the adrenaline they had lent his ravaged physiology departed exhaustion began to take it's toll, but he had to keep going, so much depended on him. Worth, the Celias system as a whole, possibly the entire sector. They had to be warned, monsters lay in their midst, had done all along, infiltrating and growing like a malignant tumour. But this was nothing compared to the horror that was coming, unfathomable, ancient and ravenous. Giving up just wasn't an option. So, weary beyond measure, Carn pulled himself along the passageway step by step toward his final destiny.

No comments:

Post a Comment