# Fall of the Old Ones



## Iron Angel

PROLOGUE

Too long now.

Too long had they been forced to scratch a living from this cold rock.

The Old Ones, as they styled themselves, in their self-righteous anger, had forced the remains of their civilization here; A desolate, charred stone of a planet. But the thing they hadn’t known was what the Necrontyr had found.

With each short life, and each Necrontyr killed, they had searched harder and harder for a new and potent weapon to turn the tide of this failing war. They eventually turned to their own star, the source of their misery, for a way to turn its energies against the Old Ones. What they had found was even greater than mere radiation.

No one was sure, but the Necrontyr scientists claimed to have found an entity, an ethereal phantom, amidst the energies of their star. They were now looking for a way to communicate with it.

Why the great Warrior Poet, Gahat-Siil, was being requested to supervise this momentous occasion, and not one of the lead researchers themselves, was a mystery to everyone except the Tymloche, the highest and most powerful individuals, those who had mastered time itself, and acted as rulers. They had ordered this themselves for some reason.

Siil strode through the cramped, dark halls of the flagship Necropolis. The Cairn-Class had been commissioned specifically for this event, and was practically empty. The grim, taciturn interior had been darkened further to conserve energy for the strange communications relays. The scientists were already establishing communication, trying frantically to plead with the creature, imploring it for its secrets and its knowledge. Sill wasn’t interested.

As a Warrior, Siil, instead of fearing death, welcomed it. Instead of plying the deep of the abyss for some way to survive, he simply wanted to inflict this pain on everything around him. And as a Poet, he was always thinking about his history, the history of his people, and the future of all around him. He turned his constant thoughts of hate towards the creature, and thought that, if this indeed was what they were after, it could be used to destroy the Old Ones, to rid the galaxy of their haughty superiority and empty wisdom. He stopped, his silvery black battle suit going silent, and he turned his relay to the communications going on below.

A sharp hiss came through the relay, and the static evened out. He listened with a mixture of boredom and interest.

The first voice he heard made his hair stand up on the back of his neck. It was an ethereal growl, a sound made by some terrifying, snarling creature of the void.

“And how do I know what you are?”

One of the calm, collected scientist voices came in clearly now, a female.

“We are on one of the planets that revolve around the star you are feeding upon.”

A pause, and then the creature responded, “A planet? What is a planet?”

“A planet is a ball of dirt and metal.”

“I know of these. They are of no use to me. They have no energy. Why should I care about the plight of something with no energy?”

“You do not understand the differences of energy. We have a different kind of energy than that of stars.”

“An energy I do not feel. I will try.”

A cold dread washed over Siil; A feeling he was unaccustomed to. His muscles tightened, and he looked out the window into the circular hall below him, filled with the science crew tasked with this dubious honor. Peering down at them, he recognized the one who had been speaking. The elongated, smooth, slender face, the pulled black hair, and the pallid, bone-white complexion were all familiar. Beneath her shimmering red coat, the outline of her body was visible; She was slender and lithe, but her beauty hid a keen and frightening mind. She was cruel, and he’d seen her kill her own subordinates when they angered her.

He was attracted to her in more ways than one, but his mission came first.

Sensing his gaze, she shot him a quick look of irritation, and went about her work. They had all felt the uneasy dread, but she remained collected. The rubberized surface of her gloves scraped against the broadcaster once more, but before she could reply, the creature’s voice came over the equipment.

“Striking. The flavor of your ship, of your anger and hatred, of your… Lust.”

“Do you believe me now? Our foe is older and more numerous than even we, and their emotions are even more pronounced.”

Several minutes of silence pervaded. The science team shifted uneasily, and finally, a single phrase pierced the silence.

“Make me a body. Place me in it.”

A bright flash and a puff of smoke, and the communicator exploded. The alarms barked, and the fire control systems activated. Liquid CO2 came out of the vents, coating the floor in a ghostly fog that extinguished the leaping flames. She coughed, waving her holopad at the pungent gas, and strode to the elevator. There was much to be done.

As she stepped out of the tube, Siil blocked her path.

“Mind telling me what just happened?”

She sneered at him, annoyed that he’d even try to understand her area of expertise. “Cascade failure due to signal overload. Go write a ballad about it and let me do my job.” She made to move around him.

He sidestepped her, blocking her again. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. What was that voice, and what did it mean by building a body for it?”

She twisted her face in rage and cursed the Tym for giving him the ability to expect answers to such complicated questions. “That is a C’tan, a star god. Its been feeding off the energies from the star. They feed from pure energy sources, but are pure energy themselves. If you had been listening to the entire conversation, venerable Gahat-Siil,” she snarled mockingly, “you’d know that and I wouldn’t have to waste time explaining these things to you.”

He remained stoic in the face of her blind, but currently impotent, fury. “Need I remind you, knowledgeable Sinnat-Val,” he snarled back, “That the Tym expect me to get a report from you regardless of what I do or do not listen to? Do not make my job difficult, and I’ll make sure yours remains easy.”

She laughed. “You have no idea what is going on here. You don’t know how long we’ve been searching for this. And you have no idea what responsibility is now placed on my shoulders because we’ve finally found it.” Her face went sour. “Do not presume to tell me my job is easy. “

He narrowed his eyes. “I know exactly how long we’ve been searching for this. Every moment of our history, of our tragedies and losses, is scratched into my memory forever. Do not presume to tell me I have no idea what has just happened.”

The two stood there, staring at each other. Each hated the other with a burning passion, but beneath this was a deep respect for the other.

Siil moved to one side, his suit whirring mechanically, and Val moved past him, and neither took their glares from the other until they were out of sight.


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## dark angel

Going good so far ill be keeping a eye out for this:victory:


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## Forty

Cool story man. Nice writing style.


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## Iron Angel

Val checked her holopad. Twenty tons of Necrodermis, lost in a transit operation gone awry. She rubbed her temple in frustration. The Old Ones were starting to really crack down on in-system transit. They had stolen the valuable living metal, and now they were without a shell. She slammed her fist into a nearby control panel, her rubberized gloves absorbing the electrical shock. She extricated her fist, and the panel remolded back into shape after a few moments. All of her equipment had to be made of Necrodermis due to her spontaneous violence.

She jumped at the sound of her door chime. She frowned at the interruption, and barked, "Enter."

The door slid sideways, and Siil stepped through.

Val groaned, but allowed him to enter. "Yes?"

"Where’s that block of Necrodermis?" he queried.

She tossed the Holopad at him, and he nimbly caught it. "Why dont you look for yourself?"

He scanned the glowing green screen and the word "CONFISCATED" caught his attention. A sour taste grew in his mouth and he narrowed his eyes. "Those bastards. They know we're up to something and they're trying to keep us from moving goods until they figure it out. We had better hope they don't." He flung the pad down on the desk.

She rubbed her pointed chin. "We could cut a section of the ship's hull. Perhaps from the Tomb Vaults. The ship is basically empty, and we won't be traveling between planets. Maybe we could just use that useless suit of yours."

Before either of them could jab each other further, an alert sounded- There was an inbound Old Ones ship trying to dock.

His communicator hissed, and the distinct, wispy voice of an Old One came over the frequency. “Surrender your warship. We will be searching the premises and confiscating your weapons. You are in direct violation of our orders. We have one of your cruisers, and the shipping log is blank for a block of Living Metal destined for this ship. We implore you, do not make this violent.” The frequency clicked off.

Siil thought for a moment. “If we get that block of Necrodermis, how long do you think it would take you to contact the C’tan again?”

Val looked at him with a mixture of shock and disgust. “What do you mean? We’ve just been blockaded! This entire operation is a failure! That block of Necrodermis is on another ship. And they’ll find us before we can get to it. And how do you propose we move it?”

Siil sneered at her lack of resolve. “Its my responsibility to make sure this mission is a success. Do you really want to just let everything keep going on, with the Old Ones pressing down on us?”

Val hung her head in her hands. “What does it matter? We’re all going to die anyway. We can’t change that.”

He stared at her, and his communicator cracked again, this time from the bridge captain. “Sir, the Old Ones have docked and are beginning to board. Shall we open fire?”

He replied, “Absolutely not. Let them search us. It’s a big ship, and we have lots of time.” He now fully understood the Tymloche plan for them.

Tears of anger and despair streamed down Val’s face. “Its all over then. They’ll find our equipment and destroy the ship. We’ll never win this war.” Her face turned to anger, and she once again destroyed the panel next to her.

Siil wasn’t going to give in. He reached down and grabbed her by the collar, and jerked her over the desk, dumping her on the floor. “Lets go. We can still save this mission, if you’ll stop sniveling and get a move on.”

She lay on the floor, and her despair turned to rage. “How!? How will we get it into the chamber to guide the C’tan through the channeling procedure? And how will we even get the block?” She laughed. “You’ve got courage, but you have no sense. It would be adorable if it weren’t so disgusting.”

He was getting tired of this, and they were running out of time. He grabbed her by the collar once again, and dragged her to her feet. “I’ll tell you what. Either you can live out your life knowing you at least helped me try, or I’ll simply kill you now and do this myself.”

She stared at him, and narrowed her eyes. He was threatening her? Who did he think he was? “Whats your plan then? Enlighten me.”

“We don’t bring the block to this ship. We bring the communicator to theirs.”

She laughed again. “Have you seen the size of that equipment!? We would-“

“We would rig up a relay. We talk from their ship, and the C’tan hears it because we talk into the equipment. We then guide it to the block and it inhabits it. We win.”

Her eyes widened as she thought about the plan. He was right; It just might work. She glared at him, and slapped him. “You should have said this the first time I asked instead of wasting my time like this! Are you stupid?”

He contemplated choking her to death, but there wasn’t enough time. The door sounded again, and Siil stood in front of it. He knew who was on the other side, and he knew that lying wouldn’t work.

“Enter.”

The door slid open, and he grabbed the weapon of the first Old One, tore it from his grasp and caved his head in with it. He whirled sideways and brought it around into the second startled Old One, still trying to aim his weapon. It caught him in the side of the head, which jerked sideways with a crack. Siil dragged both corpses back into the room.

He looked back at Val, who was staring at him with her arms crossed. “Are you quite finished?”

Siil hefted the weapon, its gleaming edge crackling with pale violet energy. He examined it; It was crude, but it would do the trick if it had to. “I’ll get you to the Comm array, but you’ll need to be quick.”

“Spare me. I only need you in case I need a sponge for enemy fire.” She gathered up her holopad and rushed from the room. He followed her down the halls, and hoped this would work. They were too close to their vengeance to fail now.


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## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 1
GLIMMER OF HOPE

“Get out of my light, you lumbering moron.”

Val hooked the receiver up to the microphone system of the C’tan phase communication relay, shoving Siil aside. Siil shifted nervously, scanning the windows of the chamber. The Old Ones would sweep as they usually did, from one side of the crescent-shaped ship to the other. They were nestled right in the middle, and he had no idea how thorough the Old Ones were being. He hoped they were being very, very thorough. Though it was a large ship, they’d used a lot of time already. He looked at his weapon. What he wouldn’t give to have access to their own technology rather than this primitive arc caster. One of the new Electron Magnet weapons maybe, developed behind the backs of the Old Ones. The magnetic beam could pull matter apart at the molecular level. It was specifically designed to overcome the psychic resistances of the Old Ones by creating a projectile which simply could not be blocked or translocated to the Warp.

Val tied a few last controls in place over the casting equipment, and was finished. She keyed in Siil’s command frequency, tested the resonator, and stood, dusting her hands. “They’ve grafted. I sure hope it listens,” she said, staring at the equipment. It was a haphazard rig but there was no reason it shouldn’t work.

“They’re coming this way!”

An elderly Necrontyr, with yellow, mottled skin, bloodshot, irisless eyes, and black veins running beneath his sallow flesh, ran into the room. He was an Afflicted, one of the few remaining Necrontyr who was still alive that had seen the surface of Necrontu, their home world, which was bathed in the light of a highly radioactive star. The skin of the planet was as marred as that of the Necrontyr’s, and they had spent their entire existence devoted to science to somehow overcome their plight, eventually moving away to neighboring systems. Those born on planets away from the star of Necrontu still bore their ancestors’ radiation poisoning, which had forever mutated their genes; They still retained their short lifespans and weak immune systems, but instead of cancerous, radiated skin, instead their flesh was devoid of any pigment whatsoever, rendering them highly photosensitive. This led to an eventual complete nocturnal shift of the Necrontyr civilization as the Pure, those born away from the radiated world of Necrontu, became more numerous, and could not withstand the light of day without lesions and burns on their skin.

But more important than being Afflicted, this man was Voralet-Golen, the Engineer of this ship, tasked with overseeing all scientific operations aboard. He had set up the Communication Relay and facilitated communication, and now was warning the others.

He stopped, looked at the two, and asked, “What is all this?”

Val nodded her head in salute to her superior. “This is a relay. We’re going to guide the C’tan to the block of Living Metal inside the belly of the Old Ones ship, and hope we’re right about how to press its energy imprint into the latticework of the substance.”

Golen nodded his head. “Yes, I see, very well thought out. Brilliant. But the old ones are headed this way. They know about the relay, and they’re here to investigate it. I told them it was just an energy reader, but they want to see for themselves. Being the stupid lizards they are they’ll be unable to tell otherwise. I’m coming with you, other scientists are escorting them here. We need to leave before they find you.”

Val shook her head. “With all due respect, you’re-“

He glared at her. “I may be an Afflicted but I refuse to miss this moment. I was there, during the entire war. I can still run, and I can still fight. And I know more about the strange extra-dimensional technology of the Old Ones than you, twice over. I’m coming with you. Consider that an order.”

She couldn’t stop him without facing an Order of Exile, so she grit her teeth and nodded in compliance.

Siil was getting impatient. “We don’t have much time. We need to circle back around their patrols and get to the docking bay before they leave again. If we get on there and they pull away, they might just do their warp travel and we’ll be completely out of range. So lets go.”

“You will not be going anywhere.”

Siil shouted a very loud expletive in his head, and turned around to see an entire squad of Old Ones, weapons raised. He wasn’t sure how much they’d heard; He hoped nothing about the C’tan. He wasn’t going to let that stop him, however. He whipped his weapon forward and squeezed the firing mechanism. A flash of light and a loud crack of thunder, and an arc of electricity erupted form the tip of the weapon. One of the guards screamed in agony as it seared his flesh, and fell backwards, his cloth armor on fire. Siil didn’t remember arc casters being quite this strong. He squeezed again, but the enemy was quicker, and from the captain’s weapon a bolt erupted and a tingle shot through Siil’s body. His suit overloaded and locked.

The captain strode forward. “We learned long ago to increase the amperage on our weapons. Your armor suits can only take so much current before turning off. We still can’t even figure out how they work, but we know how to get them to stop working.

Siil gazed into the black pupils of the frog-like creature, unflinching and unphased. The armor hissed abruptly, gouts of steam and pneumatic gases erupting from nozzles in the rear.

Val explained stoically. “We learned long ago how to compensate by adding a current dampener coupled with a shock gel release on all pneumatic systems.”

The Old One frowned, not understanding the technical terms.

The corner of Val’s mouth twitched upwards in a twisted grin. “Basically, the armor ups its own amperage and pneumatic pressure during the shock to decrease the jump in capacitor strain, which is what really causes the overload, then vents the pent up pressure. In short-“

Siil’s fist shot forward, the powered armor’s metal fist liquefying the bone beneath it.

“… The new system can’t be overloaded.”

Siil grabbed the dead commander’s weapon before it hit the floor, and using the commander as a shield, sprayed current into the rest of the squad. In just a few seconds, five seared, smoking corpses littered the doorway.

Golen kicked the bodies and shook his head. “They’ll know they died, they can feel it when one of their own is killed. They’re all psychically linked. Fascinating really, if it weren’t so imprecise and unscientific.”

One of the servos in the shoulder of Siil’s armor whined loudly as he moved his arm, and suddenly popped. Siil screamed in pain, and tore the pauldron from the suit. Beneath it, the servo had split in half from the sudden heat of the shock, and the edge of the servo had sliced his shoulder open.

Val peered at the wound. “We’ll have to mark that down for the next issue of this combat suit. ‘Reinforce servos’.”

Siil glowered at her. The busted servo meant that the arm could no longer move at the shoulder; Since the armor was not modular, the entire suit would have to go. “No really, I’m fine. Get me out of this thing.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so careless this wouldn’t happen.” She pressed the emergency release button, and the pieces disconnected from one another.

Siil grabbed the pieces with his hands, pulling each one off, until he was left with nothing but his black neural interface suit. He felt more than a little exposed and vulnerable, used to several inches of mechanical parts and ablative plating separating him from danger, rather than a millimeter of skin-gripping synthetic weave.

Val was intrigued; Beneath the bulky armor, Siil was actually a very slender, lithe individual; She’d never seen a Warrior out of their battlesuit, knowing it was more like a second skin for them than a piece of equipment. She thought they would be more muscular than an average Necrontyr; Apparently, the genetic mutations really did leave the Necrontyr physique with a growth point that could not be passed. Realizing she was staring, she suddenly averted her gaze.

“Where is the armory on this ship?” he asked, infuriated. Fortunately, "Pure" (Those born away from Necrontu, who did not bear irradiated skin) could not go red in the face, so his apparent frustration and embarrassment was concealed.

Golen, unconcerned about Siil’s state of dress, replied, “Not far from here, upper wing. Right outside the tomb vaults. I’d say five minutes to get there. It’s only a short detour from the main path to the docks as well.”

Siil immediately went for the door. It slid open before him, and Val followed behind, making a pointed effort not to look at him. Instead, she focused on her Holopad, intent on trying to find a way into the Old Ones communication network. She cursed their psychic abilities, and realized it was impossible, so instead she began browsing through the security feed. None of the patrols seemed to be in any hurry; Maybe the psychic loss of one of their squads hadn’t registered yet. She kept watching the feeds, going through several minutes of footage before the fight, and suddenly walked into something very solid. Thinking she’d hit a wall, and realizing the hallways were in a grid formation and devoid of corners, she stumbled backwards and looked up from the pad. She became acutely aware of the fact that she’d run into Siil while he was waiting for the armory door to open.

Siil looked backwards at her, his sense of vulnerability amplifying his irritation. “Watch where you’re going next time!”

She suddenly felt very warm, and narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m watching our enemy to make sure none of them are coming for us. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a worry if you weren’t so foolhardy.”

Siil sneered at her, and continued inside the armory once the bioscan was complete. He looked around and sighed.

The place had not been refurbished at all; There were no weapons or ammo, and only a few tools. Two Battlesuits hung in their stasis pods, one in a state of disassembly. The other was riddled with scorch marks and had several charred components. “Typical,” he muttered, realizing this was a waste of time. He opened a few locked cabinets just to make sure, and there was nothing. A crease in the back of one of the lockers caught his eye, however. He looked closer at it, and pulled away the false back.

Val’s eyes lit up with awe; She’d seen holos of them, but she’d never been this close to one of the new weapons. The glistening black length of the weapon was nearly as tall as a Necrontyr, but more than half of it was a transparent polycrystal cylinder with a metal rod as support, tipped with a bayonet- All made of Living Metal. Siil hefted the Electron Magnetism Rifle and looked down its length; despite its size, it was comparatively light. He had lost his armor, but at least he had one of these. It focused a beam of magnetic energy onto a target, which caused the energized air to blue shift into the green area of the spectrum. When the beam struck a solid object, the intense force caused the electrons to leap from the affected atoms, causing them to lose their bonds, and disassembling the matter at the atomic level. The magnetized atoms were then carried back to the gun in an instant by the field, and split to refill the weapon’s charge, creating a fully self-sustaining weapon. The energy could not be translocated to the warp or stopped by a psychic shield; It was simply a force of magnetism, an irresistible phenomenon, and it was lethal.

“Theres a note here,” Siil said. “In case of emergency is what it says. I think this qualifies.”

Golen frowned. “If my calculations are right, they’ll be coming through these corridors soon. We’d best get a move on. I’d suggest we take lifts there. We’re less likely to be spotted and it’ll go much faster.”

Lift trains were risky; If they were spotted there would be no escape, but the trains ran the outer edge of the ship- Straight to the docking bays. They were primarily used for cargo transit, but it was worth a shot.

Golen scurried from the room, and Siil and Val followed. The lift trains were all locked down for the duration of the search; Getting one moving would attract attention, but hopefully the Navigator could pass it off as a reflex.

Val keyed in the override code on her holopad, and the door to the lift train bay slid open with a hiss. The dim light in the room provided enough light to see by, but the tunnels would hopefully be dark enough to stay hidden in. She continued pressing in commands on the pad, and one of the trains lit up and lifted a few feet from the tracks on a ghostly green luminescent energy field, the majority of the train being obscured further down the tunnel.

“Heres to hoping your idiot plan works,” Val spat. She climbed up onto the hovering platform and grabbed hold of one of the rails, still examining a feed. The green light of the pad lit her face, casting harsh shadows across her sharp features as the images scrolled by. Siil leapt up onto the platform, and took up residence near the rail as well. Golen managed to pull himself aboard with minor difficulty, and glared at the two healthier specimens he shared the train with, resentful of their youth and their physical state.

Val pressed a command, and the train began its journey around the perimeter of the ship, building speed until the unlit tunnels of the lift course blurred around them and the air whipped about them.

Long moments of silence passed; Siil shifted uneasily, made keenly aware of his vulnerability with each passing moment of silence, despite his near invisibility in the low light. The only source of illumination was the glowing green of his weapon’s accelerator tube, which cast a ghostly glow on his frail Necrontyr frame. His polished black hair blew sideways in the whipping wind in the tunnel. Val avoided looking at him; She had too much to watch, and she couldn’t risk starting to stare again. She was absolutely mortified by the fact that she had actually found him worth more than a passing glance in the first place. Golen simply sat, invisible, on the other side of the train, watching the two with amusement, until a deep alarm sounded from further in the tunnel. Val looked about, confused. She’d never heard that noise before. Suddenly, the train car shook, and the car behind them began drifting away from them.

A cumulative sense of dread rose over the three as they realized what was happening. The Old Ones knew they were aboard the train, and were trying to detach the cars to stop them, presumably because they didn’t know how to stop the train itself. If their car stopped in the middle of these tunnels, they’d likely starve before they ever found a way out. Below them was nothing but an energy rail, which would kill them if they even got near it; The walls were sheer and smooth. These trains were meant to carry crates, not Necrontyr.

The alarm blared again.

“We have to go now!” Siil yelled over the alarm and the air whipping around their heads. Val was still trying to override the sequence.

“The sequence is locked! I can’t undo it!” she yelled, shaking her head. The train began to shake again.

Siil sprinted forward and leapt to the next car. Val was still trying to key in commands as the car began to slowly decelerate; Golen grabbed the pad and hurled it off the train. Val looked at him with shock and anger, then realized what was about to happen. Golen ran as fast as he could, and leapt the small gap; Val began running after him, her hard-bottomed boots clacking against the trembling train floor. She hurled herself into the air at the rapidly distancing train car, landing belly-down on the metal surface. She scrabbled to her feet.

“Pay attention!” Siil said, pulling her up by the arm. The three ran, and cleared the gap as that one detached too. The alarm stopped; The walls whirred past them, and they were still moving; The hum of the lift engine rumbled beneath them. But why had they stopped detaching cars?

The answer became all too clear as a second train pulled up next to them. Firing from the crates, several Old Ones discharged their arc casters across the gap; The surface of the train scored and charred, erupting in fountains of sparks with each connection. The three dove behind crates as the electrical shocks impacted around them, and their enemy activated light orbs which illuminated the tunnel around them.

“Well, lets see how this thing works.” Siil said, hefting the magnetic rifle. He peered from around cover; Without his armor, he found he was actually unsure of his abilities. He forced the uncertainty from his mind, and focused only on the thought of destroying his enemy. Anger welled up inside of him, and with a fearsome cry, he stood, looked over the crate, and fired.

A sharp whine pierced the air, and green flash filled the tunnel. A green beam of energy erupted from the weapon, slammed into a crate on the opposing train, and the crate blew apart as it dematerialized. The beam penetrated it, and the Old One caught in the blast screamed in terror as its flesh was flayed from its bones, until its lungs dissipated as well.

The remaining old ones immediately hid, yelling in horror at the sight. The alarm bellowed again, but this time, an entire cluster of cars released; There was no way they’d make it far enough to leap the gap.

Searching for a way to avoid an untimely demise, Val turned her attention to the other train. “We have to switch trains!” she yelled.

Siil looked at the gap; He knew he could clear it, and he figured Val might be able to; But Golen was a different story.

“I’ll throw you two!” he yelled. “Don’t argue, we don’t have enough time. Agree, or I’ll knock you both out cold and throw you anyway!”

Val didn’t want him throwing her, but options looked slim at this point, especially since the opposite train began going by faster now. The three ran to the edge.

Siil gripped Golen, and hurled him across; His feeble, addled fraim was fairly lightweight, and he rolled to a stop on the other train. The Old Ones, seeing this, began opening fire from the car ahead, and Golen scrambled for cover. Siil tossed his weapon to Golen, who caught it with a fair amount of panic.

Val swallowed, and stepped to the edge. Siil gripped her firmly about the waist, and she felt a lump form in her throat. Before it could reach critical mass, she suddenly felt herself hoisted into the air, and then crashed down onto the other train.

Siil eyed the gap; He’d have to jump now if he wanted to make it. He took a step backward, and hurled himself forward. He stretched out his hands, but he simply didn’t have enough inertia. His hands brushed the edge, and he looked down at the energy rails below him. He welcomed death at this point.

He felt his arms stop, and he swung forward into the side of the train car, slamming into it. He wheezed as the breath was knocked out of him, and he looked down; His feet were only a few feet from the energy rail, and he could see the focusing arrays whip by beneath him. He looked up; Val and Golen each had one of his wrists, and they hoisted him aboard amidst a storm of crackling caster fire. The three scrambled behind another crate. Siil’s breathing began to slow, and he watched as the other train decelerated behind them.

Val glared. “Good thing you weren’t wearing that damned suit. You’re have been way to heavy to hoist aboard.”

Siil looked at her. “If I had had my suit on, I would have not only cleared the jump, but I could have carried you both while doing it too.”

Siil grabbed up his weapon and fired it into the train ahead; The blast disintegrated another Old One, who evaporated screaming into a green cloud, which faded to gray and blew past them in wisps as the air rushed about them. He checked the weapon, and finished, “Now, I believe we have a train engine to get to.”

The Old Ones ahead all began to fall back to the front of the train, firing blindly behind them as they fled. Siil laughed, and screamed, “Run, you cowards!”

Val stood up and grabbed him by the shoulder. “You idiot, run! They’re going to detach the cars again!”

Siil stopped laughing as he figured she was probably right. The three sprinted up the line of cars, and sure enough, the alarm blew once again. The cars began to detach, until finally the front car was in sight. All of the old ones were holed up there, watching their approach with dread. The thick hull of the pyramid-shaped front car could probably protect them from normal munitions, but not this new threat.

Siil leveled his weapon, and squeezed the trigger; His aim was thrown up into the ceiling, and a rain of metal fragments came down on them. Looking around to see what had happened, Siil realized Val had hit his gun.

“If you fire that into the engine, you’ll blow the particle reactor, and the entire lift will go critical! If we’re lucky we’ll crash before the car goes thermonuclear!”

Siil eyed the bayonet on his gun; The flash had driven the Old Ones down in fear, so he charged forward, and leapt into the car.

Golen shook his head. “Look what you’ve done. It’s almost beautiful.”

Within moments, the Old Ones holed up inside the engine were attempting to get out, leaping between the engine and the remaining car, and even out the windows. Siil was plainly visible inside, whirling in circles, in almost a dance-like fashion, as he cleaved the amphibian aliens with the bladed end of the long weapon. Val and Golen leapt forward into the engine as the remaining Old Ones built their courage from the car behind them. Val pressed the maintenance release, and the final car slid away formt hem into the abyss. Several tried to run forward, but only had time to replace their look of fear at being left in the tunnel with a look of even greater terror as a narrow, grinning face leered at them from inside the engine car, leveled a green particle weapon at them, and fired.


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## CommissarHorn

> Siil eyed the bayonet on his gun


Wooo! I love you bayonet!! Have my baby!!

....that aside, interesting storyline


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## Graf Spee

quite good writing style. not overemphasizing, neat and to the point but still with atmosphere. develop the characters a bit more and you'll be on the winning side of some good fiction writing. +rep


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## Iron Angel

(SOZ FOR HIATUS. I've been busy, but here's the latest chapter.)

CHAPTER 2
DESCENT

The Old One commander poked the strange creature's tank with his weapon. No matter how many times he saw them, the sight of a Necrontyr head with half a torso and gangly arms never got less unnerving.

It sat suspended in a half cylinder, its entire bottom half composed of metal tubing and wires that stretched backward into the ship behind it; The same wires and tubes connected to its arms and head, suspending it, or what was left of it, several feet off the ground. The rest of its body was sickly and anemic, but something about its eyes always took the Commander off guard. They were sharp and vibrant, glittering with data streams, and they seemed to look right through him as though he wasn't even there. The creature was haunting, to say the least, but he had a job to do. He swallowed and built his composure, examining the creature.

Its arms and head moved in a rhythmic, hypnotic fashion as it slowly surveyed him and his team, its eyes slowly gliding over the three of them. This was the Necropolis's Navigator; A Necrontyr dissected, mutilated, and turned into the ship's main computer. It was horrifying and disturbing, but as battle had shown, quite effective. A ship did not need a bridge or specialized crew- A single Necrontyr Navigator could operate the entire ship by itself, even these gargantuan Cairns, it would seem. Blue lights shone from below it, casting an eerie glow over its sunken, pallid flesh. When it spoke, more mechanical instruments were visible in its mouth; Anatomy and voice would suggest it was female before its transition, but he doubted it even mattered any more.

“Why have you come here, those who call themselves old?” her voice echoed and thrummed with a ghostly chorus of mechanical feedback. She spoke slowly and deliberately, with a disconnected, ethereal tone that made her seem like she was hardly even paying attention. “What answers do you seek from us? We are simply reading energies from the star.”

He frowned. It was always trouble getting answers from these Necrontyr; Navigators were even worse. Navigators, basically being the ship itself, knew everything that went on inside, making their uncooperative nature even more frustrating. “Don’t play with me. I want to know why,” he said, tapping the thick glass with his finger.

The Navigator’s eyes flashed slightly as data scrolled across them. It was playing another game with him- He knew these living supercomputers could access any piece of data they wanted instantly. At least, he was pretty sure. Nobody really knew how any of the Necrontyr technology worked, to be honest- All they had accomplished in labs was breaking it.

Her rhythmic, hypnotic movements continued. “We seek to make sure radiation levels in this star system are habitable. We do not want to risk another deadly star.”

A lie. “We checked this system before we sent you here. We know its safe.”

Her eyes passed over him again, and he felt a chill go up his spine as she examined him, and moved on. “Your technology is not as… robust as that which we possess. We are simply double checking work we are sure you were kind enough to do.”

Insolence and sarcasm as well? These Necrontyr truly were an infuriating bunch. He rocked back and forth on his heels and licked his teeth- a sign of frustration. “Very well. You are only delaying the inevitable. We will uncover the meaning of this operation. And if it turns out that there is anything more going on here, I will have this ship disassembled.”

Her head cocked and her eyes focused squarely on him, remaining stoic. “How would you be able to tell if I am lying? Your old trick of mind probing a ship’s navigator has been…” her eyes slowly examined the glass wall around her. “…Dealt with.”

He smacked the wall. “This wall won’t stop everything. There’s a way through it. And you assume that my soldiers scouring your ship won’t find anything.”

“New failsafe procedure 23-8: If the Navigator Defensive Screen is breached, Navigator will instantly terminate. And search as you will, Commander. We have nothing to hide.”

He rocked back and forth again. They were getting smarter. “I hope for your sake that what you say is true. Both accounts,” he said, tapping the glass with the edge of his weapon.

As he finished, his subconscious was touched, and he could make out a subtle signal, but it was muffled, like someone screaming from inside of a thick container. He tried to concentrate on it, but it ended. As it ended more came, and he suddenly realized what was going on. He fired on the wall in rage, leaving little more than a scorch mark. The flash lit the Navigator’s frame; She didn’t even flinch, and continued to stare into the distance stoically. He banged on the cylinder with his fist. “Whatever trick you’re using to interrupt our communication, I order you to stop at once!”

And then, the Navigator did something he’d never seen one do before. Its eyes narrowed, its rhythmic movements stopped, and its head jerked quickly to face him; Most unnerving of all was the sadistic, twisted grin that stretched across its face as it leered into him. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Commander.”

He was horrorstruck. He, Captain Shaula Unua, was to die this day, he knew it. The face continued to leer at him, her stretched, pallid skin taut in her terrifying sneer. The doors slammed down and locked; He was trapped in this room with this creature. He calmed himself; It couldn’t leave the tank, or it would kill itself; Hell, it couldn’t move at all. It was hooked to the ship. He stood and looked at it. “You have broken the laws of your surrender, you foul abomination. I am hereby decommissioning this vessel. And when my men find out whatever it is you’re doing here, they’ll report it back and an entire fleet will arrive here in a matter of days and scour this ship.”

Her expression did not change. “Do not be so sure.”

He frowned, and hit the glass again. “And what does that mean? Are you threatening me?”

She resumed her hypnotic gestures, and did not respond. Little did he know, that data scroll he had seen was the activation sequence for an unscheduled train; As long as the mental dampers were in effect, they would not be able to communicate psychically.

Seeing her uncooperative nature, he narrowed his eyes and turned to one of his guards. “Blow the door. We’re leaving. And we’re going to find out what is going on here.”

The door slid open of its own accord, and the ship’s Keeper stepped through. His form was hidden under the black robe he wore, his face nearly invisible. He was keeper of the ship’s Navigator, as well as a sort of coroner. “I apologize for the Navigator’s temperament. The minds of larger vessels are more prone to spontaneity than others. I trust she has not harmed you?” he lied. Navigators were anything but unstable- They were arguably the most stable members of the crew.

Shaula stood straighter and aligned his collar, peering down his blunt snout at the Necrontyr, even though he stood a full foot taller than the frog-like Old One. “No. Aside from some extraordinarily difficult behavior, as well as an attempted imprisonment, no harm has come to me or my officers.”

The Necrontyr nodded slowly. “I am pleased to hear that. I would not want the council thinking we had any hostile intentions. Is there anything else you needed?”

Shaula was relieved to see there was still someone on this forsaken vessel with some decency. “No, I believe that’s all I needed from here. I’ll need clearance throughout the ship. I’ve noticed some areas are still locked. Why is that?” He narrowed his eyes.

The Keeper shook his head. “It is hard to organize all the systems of such a large ship. Especially on a whim. Sometimes certain systems get passed over accidentally. I’ll go over the network again and unlock the sealed areas for you as you request, and hope it has not been too much hassle.” The Keeper bowed to him. In fact, this was a bold-faced lie; Necrontyr systems worked in perfect order, all of the time. The shut out areas contained weapon caches that had to be hidden through use of hidden passageways. But the Old One didn’t know that.

Shaula grinned at the gesture. It had been so long since a Necrontyr had shown him any sort of respect whatsoever that he was not going to turn it down. “I’ll be taking my leave then. I hope we do not turn up anything out of the ordinary. For your consideration and cooperation…” He cast a scathing glare at the Navigator. “… I will consider not decommissioning this ship.” He brushed past the Keeper, and he and his officers strode through the door and out into the commons.

The Keeper watched him go, and when he was out of sight, he turned back to the Navigator. “Why would you do something so reckless? That was an extraordinarily stupid thing to do.”

She gazed at him blankly. “I wanted to toy with him before the end.”

He shook his head. “We don’t even know if they will be successful. But enough talk of that. We don’t want ears overhearing any of this. Continue doing your job, and next time, try to prevent the Old Ones locking you out of systems. I was watching the trams, and one more fumble like that could cost them their lives.”

Shaula went to make sure the Navigator had made good on his orders; His first stop was a room of unremarkable nature, some kind of living quarters.

The door slid open; This one had been unlocked, at least. He looked around and inspected the sleeping places of these Necrontyr. It was cramped and the beds were small and hard, with high rectangular sides stacked on top of one another. Wires and tubes for life support were visible, and blinking lights could be seen within. From what he could tell, to get in or out, the ones above you hade to be retracted by a large metallic rail at the head of each stack. To him they looked more like coffins than beds, especially considering the large amount of space they had available. He checked each one, knowing this would be a good hiding place for weapons, but found nothing. Satisfied the room was empty, he left, and the door shut behind him.

He was close to the dock at this point; He had done his job of interrogating the Navigator, and though she was uncooperative, he had gotten what he’d needed. His crew could take care of the rest. He decided he could take a look at the ship’s cargo before heading back; Their ship was hooked directly into the cargo bay of this ship.

He and his officers strode forward into the cargo bay. Glittering black boxes rose into the air above him like large tombs, sending a chill up his spine. What a macabre bunch. He pitied them more than anything, that they could not have simply taken their hand in friendship, but instead had chosen war, at a cost that drove them only deeper into their species-wide despair. He had scant time to contemplate this philosophical moment when a low thrum began reverberating through the cargo bay. He frowned. No machinery was supposed to be moving; Perhaps an errant cargo lifter?

As the sound grew in intensity and volume, it became apparent that whatever made that sound was much larger than a cargo lifter. He scowled, knowing suddenly he had been played by the clever Necrontyr; They were transporting something, trying to store it in the already-checked section of the ship, in the hopes that it would not be searched again. He had not forgotten the psychic dampening; Maybe that was what they were transporting- Some sort of new weapon to combat the psychic powers of his kind. The thought chilled him to the bone, and he was determined to stop it at all costs.

The sound reached a crescendo at the lift terminal, and he gave silent orders to his officers to take up positions behind cover in the boxes at the base of the elevated platform. He steadied himself, and once he was sure everyone had moved behind something, he peered out. He realized there were no cars; Only the engine itself. Another errant system. If these large ships were so hard to keep control of, why didn’t they just use smaller ships instead of all this?

Then, something happened that Shaula did not prepare for.

Three individuals leapt from the engine; He recognized only one, the ship’s Engineer. The one they had been told about. He narrowed his eyes at him as he went by, but never gave the order.

One of his officers became frustrated, and eager for the kill, leapt from cover and fired an arc of light at the Necrontyr. The sizzling energy blistered the plastic shell of the boxes it passed, but the inaccurate arc of energy swerved and collided with the deck. One of the Necrontyr, a young male, turned to face them, and his face twisted in rage. He leveled something- A weapon, presumably, but unlike anything Shaula had ever seen before- at the officer. A moment later, a flash of light and a green stream of energy connected with him. He shrieked in agony for a moment- Until his entire torso dissipated, and only a pile of limbs fell to the floor. Blue-green blood oozed from the shredded joints, and Shaula and his other officer held their breath, staring at it from behind cover in horror. What was this new terror? What horrifying new science had these monsters worked?

The trio of Necrontyr continued running through the boxes. Shaula swallowed and gathered his nerve. He looked down at his fallen comrade, and swore he would discover what vile technology had done this, and when he had proven illegal weapons research, he would have his vengeance against the whole race for this new terror.

He signaled his remaining subordinate, who nodded. The Old Ones were not fast or strong, but they were adept at close quarters pursuit; He had run down more Necrontyr war criminals than he could count on his four-fingered hands. He could hear them running, panting- Necrontyr were not particularly fast or strong either, at least not their warrior roles. Their footsteps told them all he needed to know, and he cut them off at a junction between the boxes.

The Necrontyr rounded the corner, and the young male had a brief look of shock on his face when he walked into the danger end of a pair of arc casters. Then it was replaced with boiling rage as he brought his long, slender weapon to bear, but he was too slow, and the weapon to weighty. Shaula pressed the weapon sideways, lodging the end of it into a crease between the crates, and pressed his weight into it. His officer primed his weapon, the whine of electric current screeching to life as the conical end of the caster crackled with energy. He leveled it directly into the young male’s eye, still burning with sorrow and rage at his comrade’s death. The Necrontyr glared at him, his eyes burning with hate, but he made no moves.

“Drop it, criminal.” Shaula growled, and pressed his weight further into the barrel of the weapon.

The second, a young female, reached for her coat, but the officer reacted and pointed his weapon at her. She froze, and adopted the same facial expression as her male accomplice.

The young male let go of the weapon, and it clattered to the floor. Shaula moved away, letting it fall, and kicked it away and stood straight. “You are murderers and war criminals. Officer, claim that device,” he bellowed, as he reactivated his own weapon. The officer backed away, and bent down to claim it.

“What are your names?”

The young male narrowed his eyes at Shaula. HIs lip curled in disgust that this oppressor would dare to ask him who he was. “My name is Gahat-Siil. Role: Warrior. Profession: Poet.” He paused. “You would do well to remember this name, because it will be the one you utter with your dying breath.” He eyed the officer, waiting for his hands to be on neither weapon.

Shaula gazed at him as though he were mad; Indeed, he was sure he was. “Well, Gahat-Siil, the council will have you strung up by your innards for this. But I wont give them the chance.” He strode slowly closer.

The officer leaned forward…

“I’m going to claim you resisted, and I had no choice but to eliminate you.” He cocked the weapon, and it whined angrily, purple energy flashing along the length of the conical tip.

...And the officer reached forward, taking his hands off his weapon.

Gahat-Siil struck fast, slapping the arc caster to one side, and lunging into the Old One. As he fell atop him however, he felt a strange obstruction between himself and the frog-like creature. Looking down, he caught sight too late that the Old One had flipped the weapon around, and the tip of the weapon was pressed firmly into Siil’s gut.

Shaula grinned, satisfied he would have vengeance for his subordinate, and pulled the trigger. An electrical shriek pierced the air for a moment, and Siil’s form writhed in pain, smoke bellowing from the gap between them. Siil rolled off of him, revealing a smoking section of charred and blistered skin where the weapon had discharged straight into him. He screamed in agony as he landed on his back.

The officer, completely taken aback and shocked by what had just happened, struggled to get a grip on his weapon again, but was tackled aside by the younger female. She was obviously not a warrior role, and was light; He toppled, but as they fell he pinned her to the floor.

Siil’s thoughts swam; Agony tore through him like red hot stakes, and he saw white spots in his vision. It was horrifying, but glorious all at once. He would not be felled, not like this. He got his bearings, and struggled to his feet, as Shaula did the same.

Shaula kept his weapon pointed at Siil. Siil strode resolutely forward, ignoring the immense searing pain in his stomach. Shaula was shaken; That blast should have incapacitated, even killed the Necrontyr; This one, however, seemed barely harmed. Before he could regain his nerve, the Necrontyr grabbed his weapon, tore it from Shaula's grasp, and swung it by the barrel into a wall of boxes, splintering and ruining the caster. Before he could grapple with Shaula, however, Val’s scream pierced his thoughts.

The officer had wrestled her into a meat shield position, his weapon in the back of her shoulder. It was an awkward position, but he knew she would be dead in an instant if he pulled the trigger; Siil contemplated allowing him to kill her, but her captor’s eyes lit up as a green flash erupted from behind him. He foamed at the mouth, and fell forward, his weight pinning Val beneath him. His entire back had disintegrated, and behind him, Golen stood awkwardly holding the magnet rifle. GOlen hunched over, and dropped the cumbersome weight of the device.

Siil turned back to face Shaula, but he had already left; The coward had run. He would chase him, but there were more important matters to attend to.

He rushed to Val’s side; What was visible was unharmed, but she had passed out from the struggle. Her head was bleeding from her impact with the ground, and she was out cold. As he bent over to inspect her, the pain in his stomach came rushing back to him, and he screamed and doubled over in pain. The smoldering ruin of flesh that was his stomach cracked and began to bleed profusely, staining the grey floors a milky lavender. He applied pressure to the wound, despite the searing pain.

Golen rushed to him, and looked at the wound. It would be deadly if not treated. There had to be some sort of medical supplies in these crate blocks. He considered his options here.

Shaula ran as fast as he could. How did this happen? He was the one they were told about. This should never have turned out this way. Something had gone wrong. Maybe he couldn’t be trusted after all.


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## Iron Angel

A few character sketches I did a while back. Just to get an image in your head.
http://www.heresy-online.net/forums/showthread.php?p=524554#post524554


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## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 3
UNFURLING

“What!?”

The Keeper frowned as he listened to Golen calmly explain the situation. “Keep pressure on it. Don’t let him bleed out. His implants should be responding to the wounds.”

Golen examined the unconscious form of Siil; He’d gone into shock and passed out a short time ago, and the pale indigo iodine blood had not slowed its progression from the wound. His breathing was shallow and slow, as his body’s mechanical implants fought to keep him alive despite the massive internal bleeding. Golen, unphased and unshaken, placed his hands on the wound; The skin was blistered and charred, and cracked beneath his hands, but he placed pressure on it to stifle the flow as the Keeper had instructed. “And then I simply wait, Veir?”

Tanet-Veir crossed his arms, then tentatively placed his hand on his chin. He shook his head, and glanced backwards at the Navigator. “Vitals?”

The navigator stared into space.

Vier’s eyebrows drew together in a frustrated scowl. “Talan-Neri! His vitals!”

Her head snapped towards him, a brief look of irritation at having her thoughts interrupted crossing her face, before her stoic expression resumed. “I am currently tracking the fleeing enemy. But if you insist.”

“The fleeing old one is unimportant. We need to know if Siil is going to survive this ordeal.”

On the screen around her, anatomic displays and vital signs flashed and blinked, casting the gloomy chamber in pale green illumination.

Vier shook his head once more. “He’s erratic. We’re going to lose him.” He wrung his hand around his own forehead.

Neri gazed at him, almost sympathetically. She cast out feelers for anything she could do to help. She extended her presence into the whole ship- The dampening network, the cargo, the tombs. She felt nothing. The cargo had been cleared of anything that could help them. She remained stoic; His death would mean nothing in the long run. They could find another block and contact the being once more. This precipice was already reached, and this knowledge could not be un-learned. However, his survival would mean a more expedient situation, so it was the more logical of two outcomes. She continued monitoring the ship and Siil.

Golen stared stoically as beneath his hands Siil’s body bucked. His face contorted as his body began its final bloody struggle against its own injuries. His implants would administer biorestorative agents, but the damage was severe.

Val blinked once, and coughed. She realized she was staring at the floor. Her head swam, but she regained her composure. She pressed against the floor, managing to raise, and realized she was pinned down by a heavy weight. She suddenly snapped back to reality, and pushed the shredded corpse off her.

“You’re awake.” Golen noted.

Val looked forward to him, and saw Siil beneath him. She remembered a flash of light, and…

Her eyes widened as she realized his body was in its death throes. She scrambled forward to him, and took in the entire scene; Siil, laying in a pool of his own blood, with Golen stemming the bleeding. She was in shock. “What happened?” she asked as she knelt at his side, her hands over him, unsure what to do with them.

“He was shot at point blank by an arc caster. His implants are fighting it, but he may not make it.” Golen calmly answered.

Her face contorted with anger and disbelief. “What do you mean he won’t make it?”

He sighed. “Exactly that, Val. He’s likely to die. That shot scrambled his organs, and he may not regenerate fast enough to stave off death. He’s already in shock.”

“There has to be something we can do to bring him back!” she frantically hoped.

He shook his head. “The cargo has been cleaned out. No medical supplies here.” He looked at her. “You seem awfully concerned.”

She gulped. “I am certainly not. He’s a meat shield, to absorb fire so that I can get on that ship.”

“Hmm. Well, he served his purpose to you then.” He said, and returned his gaze to Siil.

She stammered, realizing that he had indeed. And yet somehow, she seemed unfulfilled at his accomplishment of the role.

Siil’s body slowed, and eventually went limp, as they watched.

Several moments of silence pervaded, settling over them like a still, stagnant, oppressive blanket of dread, as both of them looked at his failing body.

“Is he…” Val stammered.

Golen shook his head. “Not yet. But he will be soon. He’s still fighting. He’s quite formidable, I must say. There’s something keeping him hanging in the balance.”

Val could no longer resist. She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. Her face twisted into rage. “Wake up!”

Siil stumbled through the darkness. A miasma swirled about him; He was numb completely, and was barely aware he existed at all.

“Where am I?” he pushed out through heavy breaths. There was no reply. He continued fighting; He could feel his mind slipping further and further away with each moment.

He stopped. “Am I dead?”

A sound pierced the silence, a single pinprick of sensation that forced his body upright and sent swirling streams of pain through his body. Then a voice reverberated through his mind, and seemed to course through his body; It was smooth and liquid, and brought with it a slight tingle in his spine. He felt as though a thousand hands appraised him with each word. It was not painful or uncomfortable; It simply was.

“No. You are not dead. But you soon will be.”

Siil recoiled at the sudden sensation, but refused to fall over. “Who are you? Where am I?”

“My name is not important. You will come to know me, however, but not now. You will not die, not here. I am keeping you alive.”

The energy pierced Siil again, and Siil was once more forced upright.

“Amazing, your technology. I’ve been watching you for quite some time.”

Siil doubled over again, in pain from the sudden loss of the energy. “Where… Where am I? Am I in the warp the Old Ones use?”

A shrill laugh pierced the stillness. “Of course not. You are in another dimension entirely. A dimension where I reside, and I am going to save you.”

Another burst of energy, and then the inevitable pain of its absence once more. “Why? Who are you?” he asked, holding his side.

“So many questions. As I said, who I am is not important. Not right now. And I will save you because you will be of use to me long from now. If you die now, you will be of no use to me in the future, when I have seen you being use to me.”

Siil shook his head. “What? That doesn’t make any sense at all!”

“That’s how time travel works, I’m afraid. Suffice to say, I have seen the universe through the looking glass of time, and I must keep you alive to be there for it.”

Another pulse. Siil’s breathing became deeper and heavier. “Are you a Tymloche?”

The voice laughed. “No. Not that it matters. You’re about to wake up, after all.”

“What?” More energy.

“We shall meet again, Siil.”

Another shot of energy rocketed through his body, more intense and pronounced. It came again, longer, and then once more, but this time, it did not stop. The world flashed around him, visions of the world, the stars, and finally it all stopped.

Siil gasped, sucking in as much air as his body could hold, and the pain in his stomach nearly took him under again. He could feel his insides squirming, and looked down at his body. Golen stood with his hands pressed firmly against the wound, with Val’s fists wrapped around his suit.

He glared at her, and opened his mouth to admonish her, but instead choked on a mouthful of his own blood. The sudden contraction caused a searing pain in his stomach, and he doubled over.

He rolled to one side, and Golen let him go. Val panicked and removed her hands, in awe that he was alive. He rolled onto his hands and knees, and spat a gout of his own fluids onto the floor. He collapsed atop Val’s lap, breathing heavily.

Val was in shock. Her hands wavered in the air, unsure of their destination. She looked at Golen, who simply nodded at her towards Siil.

Her hand slowly found the back of his head. She kept her gaze on Golen, unsure of herself, or if this is what he had wanted her to do. He simply stared at her. “Don’t look at me. I’m not the one who just came back from the dead.”

She slowly looked down at him. She could feel his breath in his chest, rough and uneven, as he struggled. She wasn’t sure what she could do to comfort him, and she had no idea how to proceed with a wounded Warrior collapsed on her lap.

For a moment, he felt her hand on him, and considered ordering her to remove it. Suddenly, he realized he didn’t care; That, or he didn’t mind. It didn’t actually matter right now. He just wanted to catch his breath and figure out the vision he had just witnessed. A stream of blood dribbled from his lip as it drained from his lings, the thin liquid spattering against the floor in front of him.

A voice pierced the silence. “A victory for us,” Vier said, relieved.

Neri eyed him. He was an amusing creature; Very young, and yet still so important. Indeed, it was a victory. She was unsure how, and would have to file this occurrence away for later study. But for now, she had to worry about the resuming of their mission. “Vier, if you would, please re-inform them of the direness of their mission.”

Vier’s face resumed its seriousness. “Yes. Yes, of course. No time for rest, not when something this important is at stake.”

Golen sighed. He was relieved to get this back on the move; He couldn’t lose Siil, not now, not when he still needed him to finish the job. It had been close, but they were back on the right track now. He would finish his task.

Siil struggled, and stood. The pain in his stomach was still there, and would be for days; But the medical implants had done their job. They would have to be replaced and refilled, however, before they could work again. He felt the skin on his stomach; Still scarred and burned, but no longer bleeding.

Val stood uneasily, and both of them looked at each other. Both opened their mouths to talk, but nothing came out.

Val swallowed and regained herself. “Never do that again. You aren’t allowed to die yet.”

Siil tilted his head to one side. “I don’t take orders from you, Val,” he said.

Val bit her lip. “It wasn’t an order.” She looked him in the eyes and examined him for a reaction.

Siil looked at her for a moment, determined not to provide one.

Golen shook his head; They didn’t have time for all this young foolishness. “If we don’t go now, that commander will return with reinforcements. Lets get a move on.” He ordered as he brushed past them.

They spent one more moment scrutinizing the other, then turned to follow him. Siil scooped the rifle up off the floor, and hefted it, ignoring the pain in his stomach. His insides would heal, eventually. For now, he was alive; Alive to wreak vengeance upon his foes.

They moved through the ship’s cargo bay, until the brilliant yellow and white docking lamps were visible. Siil and Val were nearly blinded the instant they rounded the corner; The bright, pure light seared into their retinas, and they ducked back behind cover with a cry of surprise. Golen looked toward the lights, and realized they could not follow.

Siil and Val blinked; They were both basically blind, and spots swam in their vision. Siil cursed himself for walking into it like that.

Golen was unaffected due to his nature. “I forgot about that, my apologies. It’s a defense the Old Ones devised to keep the Necrontyr off their ships when they dock. Pure cannot take the light, even with their eyelids shut, and thus cannot counter-board them. Fortunately, you have me here.” It was, indeed, completely fortunate. He could not complete his task without them.

Siil was still trying to blink the spots away. “And what do you think you can do to help us?”

“Cover your eyes, grab my shoulder, and keep up. We don’t have much time.”

Siil reluctantly covered his eyes with his left hand, and gripped Golen’s shoulder with his right. Val did the same.

“Ironic,” Golen mused. “The old helping the young to walk.” He strode forward, and the two younger Necrontyr stumbled forward. Even through their hands, the light was bright enough to give them pain. The light faded from view, and their footsteps transferred from harsh, metallic clacking to soft thudding.

“You can let go now,” Golen said, stopping. “You should see this.”

They both let go of their eyes, and looked around; Smooth, white walls stretched out before them in either direction, with curved decorations, gold etching, and more importantly, more tolerable light conditions.

“Hmph.” Val dismissed it. “The insides of Old One cruisers are hardly interesting. Featureless, dull, and too brightly colored.”

“We aren’t here to sightsee. How do we get to the hangar where our missing ship is?” Siil asked impatiently.

Golen shook his head. “I haven’t seen the inside of one of these for a couple of…”

Siil narrowed his eyes.

“Decades. Yes, it has been some time.” Golen muttered irreverently. “Not long enough, however.”

He plodded forward, into the depths of the ship. His followers plodded along after him. They passed through several corridors, ornately carved and made of smooth white plastics. They went quite some distance before anyone spoke.

“Does anyone notice anything strange?” Siil asked.

Val nodded. “We haven’t been attacked yet. Not a single Old One in sight, despite how far we’ve gone. Do you think perhaps they are all searching the ship?”

Siil shook his head. “It wouldn’t take the entire crew of this ship to sweep our vessel. Maybe half, at most. The size of our ship is unimportant, its how they cover it.”

Golen swallowed. He hoped they were close; There was indeed a lack of resistance.

Siil gripped his weapon tighter. “It may be an ambush. Keep your guard up.”

Val wished she could hack into the system, find out their communications, view their surveillance, override their security, but the simple fact of the matter was, all of this was done through powers they did not understand; The Warp, as they called it. Finally, they rounded a corner to a large door; Outside it were several consoles and a large silver disk on the floor.

“What is that?” Val asked, eying the silver disk with contempt.

“A warp pad. Its how they move large supplies across the ship. They open a warp right on that disk, and it gets sucked through and deposited elsewhere.”

“Interesting.” Val said. She resented the fact that they did not have similar technologies. “Where does this door lead?”

“To our destination. This is the entrance to the central hangar.”

Val’s eyebrows cocked. “We didn’t travel nearly that far.”

Golen looked at her, and frowned in thought. “Not by our standards, no. But by the standards of warp powered technology, yes.” He said, and tapped a few commands on a nearby panel. The door slid open, revealing a large room, made of the same materials as the rest of the ship, with high, ridged walls and curvilinear cranes protruding from the ceiling.

In the edge of the large floor, taking up a section not occupied by large rounded crates and containers, was a single Dirge.

Siil looked over the entire area for several minutes, his weapon hoisted to his shoulder. He saw no movement; Not even any machinery. He was not satisfied there was no ambush, but they wouldn’t accomplish anything waiting here either.

Golen swallowed. They were so close to finishing this damned thing. “Lets go, we can’t stop now.”

Siil was unconvinced they weren’t walking into a trap of some kind, but Golen was right. The three of them sprinted across the open floor separating them from the ship. Feeling more than exposed, Siil kept his weapon ready; He couldn’t take any more hits. He fought the searing pain in the pit of his stomach, and they finally made it to the ship, winded.

The ship’s landing gear was down, meaning it had been landed inside the docking bay voluntarily. Old Ones couldn’t do that, and small vessels were crewed rather than operated by Navigators. Most Necrontyr Escort pilots would rather suicide their ships into the enemy’s hull than relinquish their cargo voluntarily. Siil had simply thought they used some sort of device to pull them aboard; They were beginning to do that because of the suicide dives. Siil dismissed it; Perhaps they had, and rather than let them damage his ship the pilot landed willingly.

“Val, can you lower the cargo lift to get us faster access to the block?” Siil asked.

Val nodded, and walked up the ramp into the ship. She keyed a few commands inside the door and verified her genetic scan, and the cargo bay released.

Gouts of hydraulic release fumes blasted the area beneath the ship, and a circular portion of the hull lowered to the ground. Settled in its center was a glittering block of pure silver, a cube ten feet high, ten feet thick, and ten feet wide; It glistened with iridescent green sheen.

Val rubbed its surface. An unimprinted block of Living Metal. Living Metal was a substance that was “imprinted” with a shape by an external source; It maintained that shape forever, and if forced out of that shape, would seek to regain it. It was intelligent, and even if blasted apart, it could come back together as crawling pieces of shrapnel. It could not be “un-imprinted”, however. It was possible, but the metal always exploded violently as a result, resulting in not so much a usable block as a hunk of twisted shrapnel. It could be reformed, but the process was long and pain-staking.

But this… This was pure and unadulterated. It could be used.

Siil nodded to Val, who glanced back at him, a grin on her face; Of sadistic anticipation or overjoyed relief, he could not tell; It was likely a mixture of both. He reached for his rigged communicator, and stopped when he heard a click directly behind his head.

A click that sounded specifically like an ion pulse pistol. A Necrontyr weapon. A weapon none of them had. Or, at least, none of them were supposed to have.

It was then he realized that he had, in fact, walked into a trap.


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## IntereoVivo

Ooooh, plot twist. Nice.


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## Fumble Tumble

ohoh... they are gonna get smashed


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## Iron Angel

Fumble Tumble said:


> ohoh... they are gonna get smashed


Who is going to get smashed?


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## LostIsland

Loving the story so far man, thanks for sharing it with us


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## Iron Angel

(Thank you for all the comments, everyone. Keep them coming! :victory

CHAPTER 4
UNVEILING

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Golen’s voice wavered. He was never like this; He was trained to be calm and collected even under the direst circumstances. But here he was, about to lose it.

Val looked at him with shock. “Voralet-Golen, what have you done?” she asked as she inched towards them.

“Stay back, or I’ll kill him!” he yelled, grinding the square body of the weapon into the back of Siil’s head. He stayed that way for a moment, but then released the pressure, and nearly broke down into sobs. “Its not what I did. Its what that thing is going to do! Don’t you see? It will kill us all! We’re all food! All sentient life! But the old ones…” He regained his composure. “the Old Ones claim they can control it. They say they can use the power of the Warp to harness its energies for good… For the good of everyone! All of us! They can use it… To give us longer, healthier lives! Don’t you see?”

Siil was furious. “And you trusted them? Are you a fool? They want this weapon for themselves!”

Golen shook. “No! They want to help us! They always have! They want us to live, we’re valuable, we know things they don’t!”

“They want us imprisoned! That’s what they wanted from us in exchange for their help. Beneath all their empty wisdom and self-righteous piety, that’s what they wanted. That’s why we refused, and they left us to die, bathed in radiation, poisoned in our genes forever, because we would not submit. So we grew to hate them, and we tried to kill them.”

Golen was silent a moment, then he began to laugh. “Don’t you think I know this? I was there boy. I was there for the whole war.”

Val was shocked. “But that would make you seventy years old!”

“seventy four,” Golen sneered. “A long life, isn’t it? Because the Old ones helped me. I did what they wanted.”

“You sacrificed what our people were dying for to save yourself.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Golen screamed. “I wasn’t going to die for petty individuality, idiotic things like whims and free will. What worth is there in those things when you live to enjoy them only a short while? Because I lived so long my research accomplished more than any of my colleagues!”

“The worth is that these things are what make us Necrontyr, and not slaves and lap dogs to the Old Ones!” With that, Siil dropped his rifle, grabbed Golen’s arm, and continued turning with it. A sickening “crack” emanated from Golen’s elbow as the joint tore free and the bone broke. Siil grabbed the pistol from his hand.

Golen lay on the floor, propped up by his good elbow, sobbing frantically. “Don’t you see? We’ll all die!”

Siil pressed the priming trigger on the weapon. “Not all of us.”

“That is quite enough. Drop it now, or I’ll turn you into piles of ash where you stand.”

Siil sneered at the intervention, but dropped the weapon. He would finish this later. He spun around, to see an entire regiment of Old One soldiers ready to fire. They had apparently snuck around them from the other side of the ship. The commander was a darker skinned Old One, scarred and wrinkled, and decorated with dozens of glittering metals.

Golen laughed. “Thank you, General Hausha! I-“

“Stuff it, Voralet-Golen. I am only interested to see if you have come through for us.”

Golen cleared his throat, and tried to regain his calm composure. “I have. They can talk to it and bring it here, so you can use it for us.”

“Yes, so I can use it for me. Once I have this being in my control, I can use it to end this petty war and put my people back where they are meant to be.” He paced side to side, surveying the three Necrontyr.

Golen breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Peace is what we need. And with your help, we can overcome our angers toward your people, and come to an agreement.”

Hausha stopped, and smacked his lips a few times, his eyes narrowed at Golen. “Oh yes. Your people will certainly find peace. Peace in whatever afterlife you wretched monsters believe in. Here is my agreement. I will have this weapon, and you will all join us or die.”

Golen looked horrified. “But… You promised to make peace with the Necrontyr!”

“And I will. If there are none of you left, we’re at peace, now aren’t we?” he sneered.

Golen shook his head and looked about, frantically thinking for a bargaining chip. “The council will not stand for this!”

Hausha rolled his head back, and laughed loud and long. “You idiot. The council are the ones who ordered this. You bit the hand that offered to feed you once, we won’t have it happen again.”

“But… You promised me you would do what you could for me.”

Hausha sidled forward, his eyes on Golen. He walked past Siil and Val like they weren’t even there. “And so we have. Your usefulness has ended, however. You pitiful fool. We never cared for you or your treacherous kind.”

He reached down and grabbed the discarded pistol.

“And now, you will have what you asked for. Your peace. May you find it in the After.”

He lifted the pistol, and with a single shot and a blue flash, the back of Golen’s head burst apart, spattering pallid violet smears across the floor behind him, mixed with bone fragments and pieces of brain. Golen’s body rocked backwards, then went limp, collapsing on the floor. Smoke rose in ghostly wisps from the smoldering hole in his head, as his eyes focused forward on nothing at all.

Val watched in horror. It was not the first time she’d witnessed a death. She’d killed other Necrontyr herself before. But this was more than simple brutality; This was treachery and the start down the road to her own genocide.

Hausha examined the thick, black, stocky pistol. “Quite an impressive design. One we have yet to crack. Your technology does not lend itself to reverse engineering.”

Siil glared at him. “We won’t give it to you.”

“Oh, won’t you? How about if I just kill you?” Hausha said. He whipped around and brought the pistol to bear on Siil’s face, reaching up to do so.

Siil was not intimidated. “If I’m dead, I can’t tell you anything at all, now can I?”

Hausha nodded. “Of course not. But what if…” He lowered the pistol to Siil’s knee.

Siil remained unphased. “That still won’t get you anywhere. I can take any level of pain you can administer.” He laughed to himself. “You’re wasting your time.”

Hausha nodded emphatically. “I believe you. I’ve fought your kind before. I know Warriors can take a great deal of pain.”

He grabbed Val by the arm and pulled her down to his level, then dug the pistol into her shoulder. “But I wonder if she can, hmm?”

Siil laughed. “Go ahead. I’ve been wanting to do that myself for some time.”

Val glared at him. She didn’t want to lose an arm, but Siil couldn’t give in to this general.

Hausha mocked an expression of surprise. “Oh really? Then I suppose that’s permission.”

He put his finger on the trigger, and prepared to pull.

“Wait!” Siil said. He immediately swore at himself for it.

Val looked at him with shock, that quickly turned into anger. “You idiot. He’s going to kill us anyway. Don’t give this bastard a thing!”

“I know he is, Val. But I want to see it. I want to see it come to life with my own eyes.”

Val shook her head. “You… I can’t believe you would sacrifice us all for that.”

Siil remained stoic. “It’s the small things that count. I’ll do it. I just want myself and Val to be there when it happens.”

Hausha grinned. “Of course. It will take time to set the equipment up. In the mean time…” He slammed the butt of the pistol into Val’s side, and a loud snap was heard. She coiled over, screaming in pain as her rib broke. “You’ll be waiting out your usefulness in a cell.”

Good. Siil had a plan.

“Oh, and, one more thing.” He walked up to Siil, grabbed the communicator module, and tore it off. “Nothing sneaky from you. Take them away!” he bellowed, and walked away.

The guards restrained them and carried them to their cell. Val refused to look at Siil. How could Siil of all people do this? How could he give control of this being to their enemies? And for what, the chance to see it? It didn’t make sense. He was too stupid to have come up with a plan, and what plan could he even execute from inside of a cell? She couldn’t think clearly with the immense pain in her side, but she knew Siil was clearly insane.

The guards threw them inside and closed the ornate barred doors.

Siil and Val sat in silence. Siil stared into space, while Val stared at him and tried to read him. Her breaths came short as she tried not to exert too much force on the rib.

Siil was beginning to understand. It was all part of a plan. The entity in his vision, the Tymloche… They were both connected, and they both foresaw him succeeding somehow. How was for him to figure out. But he had a suspicion, and one he hoped was true.

Val’s rage eventually overwhelmed her. She spat at him, and hit him in the face. Siil slowly turned in her direction.

“Be glad my hands are tied.”

Val laughed. “Or what? Nothing you can do to me would be worse than what these Old Ones will do to us.” She sighed. “Its really not worth it. Dooming our entire race so you can see ten seconds of glory. You know these… these animals will kill you… Kill us both… once they have it, right? You heard Hausha. I don’t believe the council has done what he says they have, but this is still his ship, and these are still his men.”

Siil examined her. “You’re sharper than you look, but you still haven’t seen what I have. You’ll understan-“

A clang on the cells, and they were both startled back into reality. They looked at the origin of the noise, and saw none other than Shaula, banging on the bars with a new weapon.

Siil lost no time charging the bars. “You! You nearly killed me! Come to gloat, have we? I swear, if I get these restraints off!”

Shaula grinned. “You’ll what? Cry at me about how your people have it so hard? Guards, leave me. I need some… Privacy.”

Siil’s rage was becoming uncontrollable at this point; He was ready to tear one hand off just to free the other to reach through the bars and rip out his eyes with.

The guards left without a word, and Shaula turned serious. “Listen to me.”

“I’m going to enjoy reaching down your throat and ripping out your heart.” Siil said, struggling against his restraints. He slammed into the bars, and Shaula stumbled backwards, startled.

Shaula’s brow ridges vibrated and he licked his teeth. It was as close to a frown as Old Ones came. “Would you shut up and listen, you idiot?”

Val laughed. “Good luck with that one. Oh, and by the way.” She turned serious. “If he doesn’t kill you, I will.”

Shaula rolled his eyes. “By the Warp, does your kind ever just shut up and listen?”

“Why should I listen to you?” Siil sneered.

“Because I can save you!” he snapped.

Siil was taken aback; Why would he save them? It didn’t make sense. “Why do you want to save me? You tried to kill me. After I tried to kill you.”

Shaula nodded. “Look. You don’t like me, and I certainly don’t like you either. But there’s more at stake here than that. Hausha’s gone rogue! I heard his little rant. He’s disobeying orders from the council. Everything they told Golen was true-“

“Including the part about peace, and helping us without trying to integrate us?”

Shaula stammered and made gestures with his hands. “Well, alright. Not all of it. But none of that matters if Hausha gets his hands on that… that thing! He’ll use it to usurp the council, and then he really will kill all of the Necrontyr! We have to get you out of here!”

Siil breathed in, and then out through his nostrils. “No.”

Shaula blinked, and stared at him. “No? What do you mean, no?”

Siil looked back at him. “I’m bringing it into this world. I know exactly what its going to do as soon as it awakens. I’ve seen it.”

Shaula looked at him, puzzled. “And what would that be?”

Siil leaned closer to the bars. “You were willing to help us. To save your own skin, yes, but that’s not important. I’ll give you a tip: Get off this ship, and get back on ours.”

“But Hausha has already recalled all of the squads. That’s why I came.”

“Leave.”

Shaula gulped. “I don’t know what it is you’re planning, but I do know whatever it is, I won’t want to be here when it happens. I can’t condone you killing my brothers. But do us all a favor, and kill that traitor.” He nodded, and turned to run. He stopped, and turned back to Siil. “One more thing. Your new weapon. It’s a horrifying device.”

Siil smiled. “Why thank you. But maybe you should get to the point.”

Shaula nodded. “So horrifying, Hausha has taken it and claimed it as a personal prize. He’s itching to test it on something alive as well. If he gets even a whiff of something odd, he’ll kill you where you stand.” And with that, he turned and hurried away.

Siil watched him go. What a strange creature these old ones were.

Val looked at Siil. “And just what is it that it will do? Resist? Against the warp technology of the Old Ones? They could just shoot him into space until he calms down a bit.”

Siil sat back down and ignored her.

Val was furious that he was deliberately not answering her question. “Well, fine. Be that way. Your plan will likely get us killed, but, its only the fate of our species.”

“Get some sleep Val. I need you focused for the trip.”

Val looked at him. “What trip?”

Siil looked at her. “Our escape trip. That Dirge doesn’t have a navigator so it must be flown out.”

Val looked at him like he was mad. “I can’t fly a ship. Can you?”

Siil shook his head. “No. But when the time comes, we won’t have to. You just need to keep the ship together.” And with that, he fell back and slept.

Val stared at him, and fought back the pain in her side. She didn’t know what was going on. For the first time in her life, she was actually frightened. She had been saddened by the realization of her own mortality before, but this was different. This was the fate of her entire species. And she was afraid.

The cuffs dig into her wrists, and she looked around her. She was in a cell, caged like an animal. She would die, they all would die; But it didn’t even matter now.

She looked at Siil. He had a plan. Maybe it would work, and they could escape. She hoped so.

She edged closer to him, just to make herself feel a little safer, and fell asleep.


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## jakkie

Wow, thats a brilliant piece of storytelling there! I love the fluff about the War in Heaven, and the rise of the C'tan. Cant wait to read more!

_rep for that


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## two lls

Its been a damn good read so far - twists and turns indeed! Like the way you portray your characters, its the little details that bring them clearer to life. Well done and keep it up!!


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## Iron Angel

(This is a long one guys, but its worth it!)

CHAPTER 5
AWAKENING

“They’ve found us!”

A single blast was heard as the pulse sentries fired. The large square barrels of the wall-mounted turrets flashed a brilliant blue, setting spots in the eyes of those who watched, illuminating the dark, stormy surroundings. The trees around them burst into flash fires from the heat of the ionized plasma discharge, but were quickly stifled by the falling rain.

One of the base’s repair sentries moved into position to barricade the gate; It hovered forward and swiveled into place in front of the door, and lowered to the ground. Its eight thick legs dug into the ground as its two arms extended, claws spread, to brace the door. The thick walls around the small outpost were impervious to any weapons the enemy had, but the gate was the weak point.

The small base was located on a remote swamp world, where they suspected the enemy was performing genetic research. It turned out they had been.

Siil cursed. He crouched behind a metal shield with two other Warriors. Behind them hovered another of the sentries, modified for combat, with a particle projector crudely grafted to its arm. Its massive, spider-like bulk featured a smooth face, with a set of mechanical eyes that stared emotionlessly out from beneath its glittering carapace. The mud beneath it convulsed as the gravitic propulsion wreaked havoc with the physics of the ground. Normally the sentries were used to repair machinery or perform basic, menial tasks, but the pair they had was now destined for war, just like the rest of the occupants. The main defense they had was a Particle Beam, a large stationary weapon in the center of the base. Four barrels focused a volley of magnetized particles outward, shredding anything they hit. It was their only anti-aircraft weapon, but it may need to be repurposed.

A bright, needle thin beam of energy pierced the still night, and bisected one of the turrets. It stopped firing, and after a brief pause, its core imploded, destroying a section of wall and leaving a brief singularity that tossed the shrapnel upwards. The other turret followed suit, and all was silent for the moment.

This base was illegal, a clear breach of their surrender, and they had taken a lot of time to get here. Reinforcements had been summoned, and they were to be evacuated, but the ships they had now could not pierce the orbital fleet of Old Ones. They had to wait for more ships to arrive in-system, and simply hold out until they arrived.

The silence pervaded, until a low thrumming could be heard. An erratic, heavy grinding rose outside the gate, like wheels over rough ground. They grew louder, until it was directly outside. More silence. Suddenly, a whooshing sound could be heard, and a flying drone appeared above the wall, and zipped overhead. The cannon immediately locked onto it and fired, but not before several brief flashes of light strobed from the underside. The particles tore through the drone, and it crashed to the ground in pieces. But it was too late; The enemy had photomapped the entire inside of the base, their weapons, their armaments, and their numbers. All they could do now was wait.

They didn’t have to wait long; A loud crash was heard, and the gate shook. The Repair Sentry dug into the wet soil, determined to hold the gate for as long as possible. Siil looked around; With him were probably twenty other Warriors, a task force meant to conduct raids and perform distractions. But now, they were the only hope left for this doomed spy outpost.

Another crash shook the gate, and it nearly parted, but the Sentry pushed with all its might and kept the gate intact. They all waited in silence as another moment of silence settled over them. The only thing audible was the steady roar of the heavy rain against the Combat Suits of the Warriors and the dirt. The gravitic generators of the Sentries played hell with the rain, slowing and stopping the droplets just before they hit. The droplets rolled off the invisible force several inches from their surface, creating an eerie aura around them.

A third and final crash uprooted the Sentry at the gate, hurling it to one side as it tried to stabilize. The gate flew open, and Siil unleashed a roar of defiance, as did his comrades. Hundreds of blue flashes dotted the night, casting haunting strobes over the entire bottleneck of the gate. Through the gate came an enormous, glittering machine, consisting of a single wheel suspended inside of a rounded frame, tipped in a ram. At its sides, dual Arc Casters spit bolts of death into the Necrontyr forces, unleashing gouts of steam on their impacts.

Blue-white eruptions appeared on its surface as the ion bolts from the Necrontyr rifles struck its entire mass ineffectually. It continued rolling, a juggernaut of implacable annihilation, until it crashed into a barricade, crushing the two Necrontyr sheltering behind it. It sped past, between two buildings, leaned to one side, turned, and disappeared from sight; But it was the least of their problems.

White and gold armored Old One soldiers poured through the gate; Their ceramic armor shone brilliantly against the blue light of the Necrontyr weapons. The Sentry behind Siil rose higher into the air, and bristled at the sight. It accelerated toward the enemy, its particle beam spewing a hail of death forward. The weapon struck everywhere; Sentries were not built to look at moving targets, and too much movement “confused” them, but the weapon was deadly to anything it hit.

Above them, several more drones appeared, swooping low- Personal carriers for Old One shock troops. The particle cannon engaged them, and gouts of fire erupted forth from the multi-barreled weapon. One of the jump packs went down instantly, spinning in a circle as it released a flaming fountain of burning fuel, eventually detonating in a brilliant ball of fire. A second took a glancing hit and continued dropping.

The large, monowheel vehicle once again sped towards them from another area in the base, this time, plowing straight for the cannon. Siil turned and saw it, and pointed, screaming over the din of battle.

The two warriors with him saw it, and pulled their pulse grenades. The three hurled them into the path of the Monowheel.

The Monowheel accelerated, reaching blistering speeds as it charged up the alley through the base. It collided with the grenades, and they detonated. A section of the wheel splintered and cracked, but it continued rolling, still picking up speed.

The three opened fire on it, and the rounds struck the weak section of the wheel. It split apart, and the two halves of the weakened wheel ejected from the frame, but it was too late.

The remaining body of the Monowheel crashed into the mud, and lost no momentum before it collided with the Cannon. The Cannon separated at the base, the mass of the Monowheel ripping it from its foundation. It toppled, still firing, and tore apart the wall of a nearby structure before its internal capacitors ran dry and the weapon went silent. The pilot of the Monowheel was dead, killed by the collision, but he had done his task.

The Sentry that had been knocked aside had regained its bearings, and accelerated toward the gate. Its massive claws tore through the armor of the Old Ones, pulling them apart at the waist, ripping limbs off, or simply crushing them. Arcs of energy shocked its hull, and it continued on its rampage.

The Shock Troops landed behind them, and Siil turned to face them. Their armor was thicker and heavier, but it still could not completely save them from the brutal Necrontyr weapons. Siil fired, and took one down with a shot to the chest. Cyan blood exploded from the wound, and mixed with the wet earth. The others readied to fire, and Siil made a run for the wreckage of the Monowheel. He dove inside, and looked back long enough to see that those he had shared the shelter with were not so fortunate. He ducked beneath the twisted frame, and opened fire from inside.

More warriors had noticed their presence, and also opened fire. The Shock Troops sought cover, but they were cut down by crossfire.

It seemed they could hold out long enough for reinforcements to arrive; The Old Ones could not get far enough past the gate without either of the Sentries or any of the Warriors cutting them down, forcing them to retreat back outside and fire in. The force at the gate continued to battle with the Sentry, but it simply refused to be harmed.

Then, a large glowing blade whipped forward, and slashed clean through a side of the Sentry. It reeled to one side, then it began to spin out of control as its gravitic thrusters lost uniform power. It collided with the side of the gate, two of its legs snapping off, and it lost momentum and collapsed in a sparking heap.

Siil stared in horror as a nine foot tall, heavily muscular bipedal figure strode through the gate. Its jaw was riddled with tusks, huge, crooked, razor-sharp teeth, and its skin was a mottled green. Its immense muscular frame rippled as it gripped its blade tighter; Its body seemed barely contained by the immense suit of white and gold armor that covered it. It growled, and unleashed a primal roar that drowned out the rest of the battle. It charged forward, and a multitude of creatures similar, but smaller, crashed through the gate after it, roaring and grunting. The remaining Sentry bellowed a sharp warning siren, and it swung its massive limbs at the oncoming creatures. It ripped them apart, but was overwhelmed by the flailing, angry, animalistic beasts, and forced to retreat, firing its weapon and snapping its claws.

Siil fired out from inside the wrecked cockpit of the Monowheel, and watched as the beasts absorbed round after round, only going down when mortally wounded. The Necrontyr were outnumbered, and half of them were likely dead; All their heavy weapons had been destroyed as well. The Old Ones had definitely sought to quickly wipe the base out and prevent any information on their activities getting out.

He watched as his Warrior brethren diced their way through the enemy green-skinned soldiers, but they just kept coming. He continued firing, until a low hum was audible and quickly grew to a crescendo.

An enormous hovering tank, pure white with gold and violet carvings and embroidery, crashed through the gate, taking a huge section of the wall down as it came through. A large turret on top of it, made of two half-cylinders with aligning lenses suspended between them, swiveled to face a pair of Warriors fighting back to back. Everything seemed to go silent, and the inside of the barrels glowed a brilliant white; Then, a needle-thin beam emitted from the tip, and swept sideways. It bisected the two warriors cleanly, as well as the enemies they were surrounded by.

The turret sought another target, while the secondary weapons sought other targets. As Siil continued firing into the maelstrom, a bright green light covered the battlefield, and the enormous hover tank erupted, sending huge pieces of it everywhere.

The cavalry had arrived.

Siil had little time to celebrate however, as one of the large fragments soared into the air, and then came down atop the wreckage of the Monowheel.

Siil was trapped. He struggled to free himself, determined not to be trapped on this forsaken planet, but he was pinned beneath the collapsed frame. He looked up, through the hole he’d climbed in, and his only means of escape, and was frozen in fear.

A huge green face leered in at him, watching him struggle. Two dots of gleaming red observed him, and the white of the creature’s massive tusks glinted in the gunfire. It appraised him a moment longer.

Siil, resolute not to die here, struggled to free his weapon. The green-skinned creature laughed, a guttural, growling snort, and reached his hand into the hole. Its arm was easily as big around as Siil, and its hand more than capable of grabbing Siil’s head and simply pulling it off. Siil fought harder to free his weapon, when a green light shone around the arm. It convulsed, then slid out of the hole, limp.

A trio of glowing green mechanical eyes inset on a smooth metallic spiderlike face peered into the hole, and flashed as they scanned him. The Sentry grabbed the wreckage and pried it apart. Siil broke free of the metal bars and flung himself from the hole, abandoning his weapon. He wouldn’t need it shortly; he was going to either die, or get on that ship. He stood, and ran towards the camp, but saw no ship. It didn’t matter; he kept running, until finally, the air in the center of the camp distorted and warped until the form of a Shroud class Light Cruiser appeared. It was a blockade-runner, equipped with the most advanced stealth systems available; It was massive, its dual vertical crescent-shaped wings almost covering the entire compound. A boarding elevator had descended from the main body, suspended some several hundred feet above them by the center of its angular wingspan, and he and half a dozen of his comrades were making a dash for it, along with the remaining Sentry.

They ran through the muck and slippery soil, those who retained their weapons glancing backwards to fire every few steps. Siil charged forward, aware of the oncoming tide of green-skinned monsters at his rear, and determined to outrun them. Siil looked down, and noticed too late a section of shrapnel from the main weapon of the hover tank splayed in front of him. He attempted to jump it, but he was too close, and his foot caught on it. His own mass flung him forward, his head slamming against the metallic surface.

His thoughts swam; He could very dimly hear gunfire and yelling, and through a haze made out a swarm of white, gold, and green. Then, a green light filled his vision briefly, and something large and silver swooped down and scooped him up like some guardian angel. He felt the sensation of weightlessness, and his vision began to clear. He was aware of a pain in his forehead; He felt it, and pulled his hand back covered in pallid indigo. He realized it was his own blood, but motion above him caught his eye- Under the shell of the Sentry, metal needles and blades whirred to life. A needle of yellow fluid jabbed into his arm, and he fell back, his final vision being that of both of them ascending into the bottom of the ship, and several blades and pincers slowly advancing toward his forehead.

“Siil, get up.”

Siil couldn’t feel any pain in his forehead; He knew they had good medics, but not that good.

“Wake up!”

Siil’s eyes shot open and he darted upright; His arms hurt, and he realized he’d slept on them. He blinked to clear his vision, and the only thing he saw was a set of surprised pale grey-green eyes. He suddenly realized Val had been standing over him, trying to wake him. She had succeeded, and now they were only inches apart. She breathed in sharply, surprised and overwhelmed. He simply stared into her eyes in shock. They appraised each other momentarily, before they averted their gazes.

He cleared his throat, and leaned back. She bit her lower lip, and resumed her seat on the bench beside him.

“I’ve been trying to wake you up for the last ten minutes,” she said. “You were screaming in your sleep.”

Siil stared straight ahead. “I do that a lot.” He frowned.

She looked at him, and nodded. He’d had a dream of one of his more horrific battles. It was common for long-service Warriors.

“I think they’ll be done soon. I sure hope your plan works,” she said quietly.

He thought for a moment, and sighed. “Me too.”

Footsteps became distantly audible, growing louder until none other than General Hausha, flanked by his retinue, appeared in front of the cell. He hefted Siil’s rifle awkwardly, but confidently, displaying it openly as a prize and a taunt- and a warning.

“I trust our deal is still on the table?” he spat, examining the both of them.

Siil nodded. “Lets get this over with.”

Hausha sneered. “Lets indeed. You’re beginning to make my ship smell like burnt flesh and I’d like to kill you as soon as I can so I can dispose of your worthless corpses.”

One of his guards unlocked the door, and both of them stood and exited. Siil eyed the multitude of weapons pointed in his direction, and simply glowered at them.

Hausha rolled his eyes and jabbed the rifle into Siil’s leg. “Get a move on.”

They were escorted back into the hangar, where the block had been moved on top of a circular metal disk. So that was how they planned to deal with the C’tan should it get out of control.

They were ushered to a position to one side, with a multitude of Old Ones standing around the block.

“When you summon it, we want to be the ones it recognizes as its masters. You can play the part of…” a twisted grin spread across his face. “Live sacrifice.”

Hausha grabbed the comm device from one of his guards and jabbed it at Siil. One of the officers unlocked Siil’s cuffs, and he brought his hands forward. Hausha took a step back and quickly raised the rifle, and Siil stopped, and slowly rubbed his wrists. Hausha extended his hand again, keeping the weapon trained on Siil, and Siil snatched the comm device.

“Unlock her cuffs too.” He said, and nodded towards Val.

Hausha shook his head. “No deal. She doesn’t need her cuffs removed.”

“Remove them.” Siil said resolutely.

Hausha cocked his head to one side. “Setting terms now are we?”

“This device takes two people to operate,” Siil lied. “One has to fix the signal while the other talks.”

Hausha licked his teeth and examined him through narrowed eyes. “Alright, fine. Unlock her.”

Hausha walked over to her, and rested the end of the rifle on he shoulder, the tip of it pointing into the side of her head. She glared at Siil.

Hausha was nonchalant. “If that’s true, then I’ll see her doing things during the conversation. Otherwise…” he turned serious. “You’ll need a new mate.”

Val jerked and her eyes shot open. Siil was utterly shocked.

Their gazes locked, and they sputtered. “What? That’s not… I mean…” Val stammered. Siil simply shook his head, unable to say anything at all.

Hausha groaned. “Ugh. I don’t actually care. Just get it done!” he jabbed the weapon forward, knocking the end of it into her head. The jolt knocked her head sideways, and she blinked once, silent.

Siil cleared his head, and looked down at the small black box that was the comm module. He looked at her, then down at it, then back at her, and glared.

Val frowned, then suddenly realized what she was supposed to do. She gingerly took the device and activated it, holding up to him. She fiddled with unimportant bits on it, until she was sure Hausha was satisfied with her involvement.

Siil’s mouth opened, and then shut again. He had no idea what to say, so he improvised as though he were speaking to some other equally shadowy, mystical figure, such as a Tymloche or Navigator. He cleared his throat.

“Great one, are you there?”

Silence pervaded for a few minutes. Siil slowly grew more and more nervous as the minutes dragged on. Finally a reply came. The voice made Siil’s hair stand on end. Val visibly shuddered. Hausha and the rest of the old ones recoiled slightly.

Siil hated this sensation.

“Have my requests been met?”

Siil swallowed, relieved and horrified at the same time.

“Yes, they have. We have a body for you, and we know how you may inhabit it.”

More silence. Then, a cold, uneasy dread settled over everyone. Several of the Old Ones looked around, frightened and shaken by the sensation.

“I am here. Bring me into your realm.”

Siil took a deep breath.

“Do you sense a large block of a strange metal nearby?”

The feeling shifted, like his insides being rearranged; Not painfully, but strange.

“Is this it? This is unsuitable.”

“I assure you, once you enter, you will have full control over the substance. It will be molded to your will, and will take the shape you desire for it.”

Silence was the response. A full ten minutes passed, and Siil became more nervous. Hausha glowered at him, distrustful.

“You’ve scared him off,” Hausha growled. He tightened his grip on the weapon.

“How.” The voice replied. Hausha jumped slightly, but resumed his scowl.

Val cleared her throat. “You must push yourself into it. Run your energies inside of it, and become a part of it. The metal, like a sponge, will adopt your energies and it will fall under your will. You will be absorbed by it, and enter our realm.”

The communicator popped, and Val dropped it. It shook twice, then went still. Val reclaimed it.

They all looked towards the block of metal. For a few minutes, nothing happened.

“Will it work?” Siil asked, trying to keep his calm.

Val swallowed, then nodded. “It will. That’s how we imprint blocks in the first place, grafting an energy signature to them. I’m not sure how it will respond to a reactive energy signature, but I can’t imagine it wouldn’t work.”

The block began to hum.

They all stared at it in awe as it slowly began to jerk, changing shape slightly every few seconds. It began to twist and crumple, dents and protrusions appeared, and the metal began to violently mutate.

Siil’s eyes wrenched open, and flashes, still images of his memories, appeared before him, occupying his mind. A huge, green face, his family, his own blood-soaked hands, Old Ones and Necrontyr being torn apart and dying.

Val inhaled sharply, as her visions began to flash as well. Explosions, mutated test subjects leering at her, crying out, metallic instruments dicing flesh, the deaths of stars.

Suddenly, it all stopped, and the metal became still. They all peered at it, breathing heavy, awaiting the next terrifying visage to penetrate their minds. The metal twisted and elongated into a vaguely Necrontyr form, dilapidated and gruesome, swathed in a cloak; The metal slowly dyed itself blacks and silvery blues as the creature took shape. It stood twice as tall as a Necrontyr erect, suspended aloft several feet in the air, hunched over. One hand clutched a long, curved scythe; The other ended in long, slender, claw-tipped fingers. Beneath its hood, two luminous yellow circles leered out into the rest of them. Its metallic shroud blew around it in the still air, moved by an ethereal breeze. It moved, looking at its own hands, bathing in the glory of its new form, and then turned its gaze to the Old Ones below it.

Hausha lowered his weapon, and gawked at the C’tan. “Great one, we are here to serve you. What may we call your might, so that we may put a name to our awe?”

It observed him coldly, and spoke, its bellowing voice filling the chamber. “I am the one who brings the night.”

Hausha’s eyes widened. “Ahhh. Nightbringer, we are your humble servants.”

The Nightbringer observed him callously, and his scythe flashed through several of the old ones at his feet, cutting them cleanly in two. They drained of energy, and fell to the floor as drained husks.

Hausha stumbled backwards in horror. “Warp it! Warp it now!” he screamed, and brought the rifle to bear.

Siil kicked it out of his hands and threw him to the floor.

A sharp whine was heard, and the circular platform turned inky black, and sucked the Nightbringer through it.

Hausha glared at Siil. “I’ll deal with you in a moment.” He strode over to the docking bay doors; the large windows displayed the space outside, and some several hundred feet away, the Nightbringer materialized, drifting through space.

Hausha laughed and snatched the communicator from Val. He spoke into it. “Lets see how you manage trapped in space with no way to get around. Calmed down yet?”

The Nightbringer stopped whirling, righted himself, and slowly turned to face the ship. His sallow, luminescent eyes were plainly visible, even against the stars.

Hausha’s self-assured grin disappeared, and was replaced with a look of horror.

The Nightbringer changed direction and sped toward the bay doors.

Hausha screamed and stumbled backwards, dropping the comm. He clambered for the rifle. Siil saw him, and grabbed it, then scooped up the device. He threw Hausha sideways again.

Val watched in amazement. It had worked; Her theories and her science had brought this to life!

Siil noticed her fascination, and shook her by the shoulders, bringing her back to reality. She turned to him, her brows turned into a dangerous scowl. “What do you want!?”

Siil opened his mouth to tell her to get to the ship, but didn’t have time before the Nightbringer collided with the bay doors, tore a hole in them, and continued his slaughter.

The bay began to depressurize, the hole in the door sucking the atmosphere from the area. The doors sealed to contain the breach, and cargo began sliding toward the large gash.

Val saw the huge hole, and began to sprint toward the ship, her hard-bottomed boots clacking on the mirror-smooth ceramic floor. Siil took off after her, narrowly dodging a crate, and hooked the com to his suit once more. The two ran as fast as they could, but the ship was on the other side of the hangar, near where they had entered before. Cracks could be heard as the Old Ones attempted to futilely fight back against the Nightbringer, who flashed between them, killing indiscriminately.

A large fuel tank uprooted, and soared across the hangar, plugging the hole. The decompression stopped, but the suction was too great; The exterior of the canister breached, and the super-cooled plasma ejected from its housing, regained its normal temperature, and proceeded to violently detonate. The remains of the fuel tank were forced through the hole by the blast, tearing the gouge wider.

They were both knocked down by the shockwave. The suction increased, and the pull became even greater. They began to slide toward the gaping hole.

Siil looked for something to grasp, and caught sight of a maintenance crane that had extended from the ceiling, pulled loose by the suction, now hanging by its fuel tubes. He leapt forward, and his hand caught one of the slender arms. He hung on even as the hole tore itself even wider, and he was lifted from the floor. A sharp scream caught his attention, and he looked down.

Val was hanging on to a small groove in the floor by one hand, and her grip was slipping. She looked up at him, genuine terror covering her expression. “Siil! Do something!”

Siil looked around for something- Anything- he could use to save her. He looked up- The Nightbringer was still rampaging through the rear of the hangar, where the decompression was less severe. He looked at the crane he was grasping, and traced the fuel line back up to the ceiling. He looked at the rifle he still had, and back at the ceiling.

“Hang on!” he screamed back, and carefully aimed the weapon. If he missed, he’d hit the base of the crane, and they’d both be pulled outside.

The wind rushed past him, whipping him in the face and bringing tears to his eyes. His aim was skewed, and he couldn’t line up a shot with the long rifle using only one hand. He realized he needed to grasp the rifle with both arms to aim it properly enough to not kill them both. He braced his feet against the curves of the crane behind him, and let go with his other hand. His feet held him while he slowly brought his hand forward to aim the rifle. 

The hole tore wider suddenly, and Val screamed as her grip failed.

He sighted down it, and pulled the trigger.

The beam materialized in front of the weapon, and struck the base of the fuel tube. Hydraulic fluid gushed from it as it whipped backwards, pulled toward the door by the suction. The tube lashed downward, and Val reached for it. It whipped her in the arm, but she drew her elbow in just as her other hand slipped from the floor. She grasped the tube, terrified.

“Lets go! Now!” Siil bellowed over the sound of rushing wind. A large crate disentangled itself and flew towards them, slamming into the crane; The joint holding it to the ceiling strained, but held, but for how much longer was unsure.

Val concentrated and tried to climb, but the suction was too great for her to pull herself forward. She looked down, and saw the hole below her.

They were beginning to get light-headed; Probably half the atmosphere had drained from the hangar, and more was leaving. Siil shook it off, and slid down the tube to Val. He looked to the Necrontyr ship; The docking clamps on the feet of the ship held it firmly in place. They could possibly walk the tube over to it.

Siil screamed over the rushing air. “Val! Don’t pass out! Keep a grip, we’re going to walk over to the Dirge!”

Val blinked to clear her head, and nodded. They pushed themselves perpendicular with the floor, and held on to the tube.

“When I say step, we step! Ready? Step!”

Val took a step forward, in tandem with Siil; They slowly made their way across the floor as debris whipped past them.

A crate detached from the floor holders and bounced down the deck towards them. It struck the crane, shaking their grip. Val let go, and looked downward at the inky blackness. She felt her arm jerk, and looked back up.

Siil gripped her by the wrist, his teeth grit in pain as the combined forces tried to pull him apart. She shook her head to regain her bearings, and gripped the pipe again. She planted her feet once more, and they continued to step.

They clambered onto the Dirge; The outside had many crenellations they could grip. The suction was increasing, as the hole continued to pull wider.

Val fought through her increasing dizziness, and they clambered into the Dirge through its still open cargo hatch. They fell onto the deck, and Val slammed the controls. The lift raised, and the cargo bay shut.

The ship pressurized, and they breathed in, grateful for the air. They both sat, collapsed against the wall.

Val began to laugh, and fell over onto Siil. Siil sighed in relief, and keyed his Comm module to the Navigator frequency. “Navigator?”

Neri’s head cocked sideways. She had not expected Siil to ever respond again. “I’m reading decompressions from the enemy ship. I assume this means your mission was a success.”

Val stood up, and put her head in her hand. “Was it?”

Siil stood up. “Yes. Yes it was. Neri, can you pilot the Dirge we’re in remotely? We need a ride back.”

Neri scanned the Old Ones ship. She located the Dirge, and interfaced with the command console. “I believe I am able to accommodate your request.”

The consoles lit up, and the landing gear retracted. The ship lurched and the nose of the craft rotated to face the hangar door. It accelerated, and tore straight through it, blasting from the ship.

“May I?” Neri asked calmly.

Siil looked at Val, and Val nodded. “Do the honors, Neri.”

A sadistic grin crossed Neri’s face.

Siil and Val watched through the viewport as the Necropolis disengaged from the Old Ones ship; It dwarfed the ship tenfold, and it slowly rotated toward the listing vessel. Its edges glowed a brilliant green, and hundreds of pulses erupted from the rim of the Cairn Class, dousing the Old Ones’ ship in emerald fire. More explosive decompressions were visible, and the entire ship finally burst apart in a brilliant fireball.

They watched, not overjoyed, but relieved. The seriousness of the future was now apparent. They stoically watched the fragments of the tattered vessel drift through the void, as the glow of its death slowly faded.

Neri was satisfied. “I’ll bring you back now. You have a great deal of reports to write.”

Siil reached for the comm, but Val ripped it from his suit and smashed it against the wall.

Siil looked at her, confused. “What are you doing, Val?”

Val looked at him, glaring into his grey-green eyes. She huffed, resolute in her decision. “Shut up.”

She reached out, firmly grasped the back of his head, and pressed her lips against his.


----------



## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 6
EXODUS

Siil was shocked and overwhelmed.

He blinked, and exhaled through his nose. He was peaceful, a sensation he had not felt in years. He gripped her by the waist; Her flesh was pliable, but not soft. He slowly pulled her closer to him, moving his hands to her back.

Her hands clasped either side of his head. She ran her hands across his cheekbones, and felt his smooth, tapering jaw. Her hands found their way back up, and she ran her hands through his hair. They remained locked together, two otherwise taciturn and morbid souls, now bound to one another by sheer passion.

The brilliant green and orange flames of the dying craft cast an ethereal glow against them. Val opened her eyes and peered into his gaze. His smooth features were cast aglow by the vivid luminescence, the flickering death throes of the fragmented ship playing across his face. The two of them basked in the glow of the vessel’s glittering ruin.

He pulled away and met her eyes.

“You should have saved yourself. You didn’t have to save me back there,” Val whispered.

Siil tilted his head to one side, examining her face. “Yes, I did.” He leaned towards her again, and their lips touched. Suddenly, several sharp beeps emitted from the ship’s internal signaling device.

Siil grit his teeth, and Val sighed.

The interruption blared once more. Val pulled her hands from Siil’s hair and turned to the console. Siil let go of her, grinding his teeth.

Val pressed a blinking switch, and the viewscreen in front of them turned black, blocking the light from the other ship. An image appeared on the screen, apparently of an empty chamber.

Siil frowned. Did someone signal them, then leave? What a thing to be disrupted over. Several grunts were heard, and Siil stared at the screen in confusion.

A deep, raspy voice was audible. “Damn it. Can you hear me?”

Val looked at Siil , confused, and Siil returned her expression and shrugged. “Yes, we can. Who are you?”

“Isn’t there a footstool around here!? Never mind, its not important. Siil, what is going on? I demand an explanation as to why this ship suddenly charged capacitors, but the Navigator is being stubborn and refuses to even answer me.”

Siil nodded. That sounded like something Neri would do. “Nothing you need to worry about, Shaula. How did you even get this frequency?” he asked, irritated.

“I still have the logs for that thing. I tried your command frequency, but couldn’t reach you. I… I was in the command deck until that Keeper pushed me out. The last thing I remember is hearing something about “May I”, and I asked may she what. Then I was, quite unceremoniously I might add, removed.” The shape of a passing Necrontyr was visible, glaring down at the vertically challenged Old One as he passed. “Hey! Could you get me something to stand—Oh, damn it. Siil, are you still there? What’s happened?” His voice became taciturn. “Did she… Is my ship…”

Siil couldn’t help but feel a certain level of sympathy, but held no regrets. “Your ship has been destroyed. Hausha is dead now, and no longer a threat to us.”

Shaula was silent for a moment. “I see.” He sighed. “I suppose its for the best. What of your ah… Your little test?”

“Now now, Shaula, that would be telling. You’re still an Old One. We’ll supply you with a beacon and a ship. Getting home is up to you.”

Shaula was silent. “You need to see something.”

Rustling was heard, and the sound of doors opening nearby. A few minutes passed, and the back of a chair appeared in front of the screen. Shaula climbed onto the chair, his small legs wobbling as he awkwardly scaled the metal frame. He stood, and turned toward the screen.

Siil gasped in shock; Val stared, her eyes wide in horror.

“What… What happened?” Val stammered.

Shaula’s expression could only be described as crestfallen. He looked down, away from the lens, and gulped. There were several burn marks on his face, the most prominent being four spots of singed flesh on his lips where his antennae originally were. He was bruised as well, several swollen, brown lumps visible across the surface of his skin. “I won’t be able to get home, you see. Because… I no longer have a home.

“One of the guards overheard me talking with you. He followed me, and reported me to the Council. Within minutes, I was deemed a traitor, accused of treason… And sentenced to exile. As you can see,” he gestured towards his face, his stubby fingers quivering, “My communicator tendrils are severed. I’ll never be able to communicate with the rest of my kind again. I am an outcast, and I no longer have a home. After they burned me, I was beaten, and thrown off the ship. But when my mind brushed with the council’s, I… I found out something worse.”

Siil shook his head, finding yet another reason to despise the Old Ones. They didn’t even have the decency to kill him. This was a fate worse than death, and for trying to help Siil and Val.

Shaula gulped and continued. “Hausha is no traitor. He was following his orders implicitly.”

Siil and Val stood, shocked at this. That meant that the Council really did seek their extermination.

“I… I did not know. I suspect very few of my kind really do. Its horrible. They really do plan on your genocide. I think no one knows because the Council is aware there will be resistance. I, for one, would not abide it. I don’t know what to believe any more. Are you really the monsters they tell us you are? Your technology is horrifying, but is our advanced use of the Warp any less terrible? I have seen your cruelty and malice, but we all do what we must to survive. Is anything the Council has told me true?” 

Shaula hung his head in his hands.

“Is my entire race deceived?”

Val felt a pang of sympathy for the creature, despite her intense hatred for his kind. He was as good as dead now. He could no longer return to his kind, and the Necrontyr were sure not to accept him either. This was indeed a gruesome fate.

Siil sighed. He felt obligated to at least set him free—Regardless of the fact that he had tried to kill Shaula, and Shaula had returned the favor, nearly succeeding. “We can give you food, water, and a ship. You can make a run for anywhere in the galaxy that you can reach.”

Shaula looked into the lens, and wrung his hands. “I… I was actually hoping to stay with you a bit longer. I’d like to maybe speak with your leaders. I can’t condone what my council is doing, and I know a great deal that may help them stop this without unnecessary bloodshed on either side. I won’t help you kill my people, but I can’t let them kill you either.”

Siil thought about it. Shaula was no longer dangerous, at least not mentally, or as an Old One captain, and he may be right. Siil would personally prefer the wholesale slaughter of the Old Ones; They couldn’t be trusted, as their council had clearly shown. But could Shaula?

Shaula nodded. “I understand. I’m still your great enemy, and you aren’t sure if I can safely be trusted. I’ll give you some time to think on it, and… I’ll respect any decision your kind makes.” The viewscreen snapped off and turned transparent once more, and Siil continued to stare at it. The embers of the enemy ship had faded, leaving nothing but a bleak void stretched out before them. The Necropolis slowly advanced toward them to claim the small escort ship, cutting through the inky abyss.

Val turned to look at him. His face was taciturn, and he stared out into the blackness. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and he looked down.

So many horrible things had happened. But in it all, they still had one triumph; The C’tan. They had destroyed the body, but the C’tan was still alive, floating as the ether once more; At least, they hoped.

The Necropolis loomed over them, its crescent-shaped hull pockmarked with phase cannons and microwave lasers. They were slowly drawn inward towards the interior of the crescent; the silver and gold hull of the monolithic warship glimmered in the light of the distant stars, mirror smooth and nearly invisible to a glance. The ship lurched as the docking beams caught hold of them and gently eased them inside of the small ship hangars.

Siil looked backwards out of the ship, and watched as the doors shut once more, closing them off from the expanse of void. He was relieved to be back here; He never thought he’d be so happy to be floating through the abyss.

There was a sudden jolt as the artificial gravity in the hangar kicked in and the ship’s hydraulic landing gear compressed under the weight. The feet clamped down onto the docking surface, and loud hissing was heard as the bay around them pressurized.

Val sighed. “I guess we’d better get back aboard.” She straightened her coat and did her best to reorganize her hair.

The boarding ramp slid from the front of the Dirge, and lowered to the floor. Siil walked to the bottom of the ramp, cut, bruised, and burned, but still alive. Val stood at the top and watched him sternly march down the ramp. She frowned as he walked. What had happened back there? She wasn’t sure herself, but it didn’t matter at the moment. She had work to do.

Siil strode to the small internal door, inset against the face of the silver walls of the small hangar. He reached out to key the controls, but the door slid open on its own.

Vier stormed through and nearly walked into Siil. He stopped, startled, and stood straight.

“Is there something you needed, Vier?” Siil asked nonchalantly. 

“Yes, there is. Its hard enough to keep Neri under control as it is. If the Old Ones find that ship, they’re going to come after us—“ he stopped when he saw Siil’s condition.

Siil noticed his expression. “I’ll be fine. And the Old Ones won’t find it until we’re long gone.”

Vier shook his head. “What happened to you? You need to get to the medical bay, at once.”

Siil nodded. Of course he wouldn’t be able to get any privacy. No matter; He wouldn’t be able to rest for some time anyway, with the amount of information he needed to relay to the Tymloche.

Vier’s communicator trilled. “Yes, Neri?”

Neri continued to monitor the Dirge. There was extra cargo on board, or perhaps something caught inside it. Its weight was slightly too high to be normal. “It may be wise to dispatch a team to investigate the new Dirge. The craft feels too heavy.”

Vier nodded. “I’ll see who I can find. We’re undercrewed as it is. You.” He pointed to Siil. “I expect to see you in the Ward. I’ll be writing a spectacularly negative letter of insubordination if you refuse.”

“Vier, I had no idea you cared.”

Vier smiled. “Its good to have you back, Siil. We thought we’d lost you several times.” He put his hand on Siil’s shoulder, then turned around and hurried back through the confines of the ship.

Val finally decided to come down the ramp, the bottoms of her boots clanging loudly against the metallic surface. Siil turned to face her.

Siil examined her; For the first time, he was able to get a close look at her. She was not exceptionally gorgeous; She was too tall, nearly Siil’s height. She was lanky, and though that was standard among Necrontyr, females with more mass, as meager as even that was, were generally considered healthier and longer lived, though this was of course false. None of it seemed to matter to him though; He felt strange now, not like he had when they had first embarked upon this mad journey through the belly of their enemies. Perhaps something had changed.

Val realized he was scrutinizing her appearance as she strode toward him, and suddenly felt very self-conscious. She was aware she was strictly average. She felt a slight pang of anger well up inside her that he would even consider judging her based on her physical structure, but she stifled it and ignored both that feeling and his gaze. She continued walking to the door; They both had a great deal they needed to get done. She tried to avoid looking at Siil as she went by.

Siil met her gaze, and stopped her as she went past. He gripped her gently by the arm, and peered into her eyes. She breathed sharply; She had to focus, and she couldn’t while he was looking at her like that. He leaned forward into her, and Val fought down the urge to follow his lead.

She placed two fingers on his lips. “No. Not here. Not now. There’s too much to be done. You need to get to the medical bay, and I need to…” She sighed, and rubbed her forehead. “Well, I need to figure out where to start.” She removed her hand.

Siil frowned. She was right, despite everything. He grinned as a thought occurred to him. “You have to go to the medical bay as well.”

Val glared at him. “This is not the time for these games, Siil.

Siil glared back. “Its not a game. Its an order, as overseer of this expedition. You broke your rib back there, and it needs looked at.”

Val pressed on the rib, and felt nothing. “Implants fixed it up.”

“We don’t know that.”

Val glowered at him, but he was right. “I still have too much to do. An improperly grafted rib is hardly life threatening, and it can wait.”

Siil shook his head. “With what we’ve just accomplished, I would say you’ve earned a short break. The reports can wait until the next cycle. We can’t give the reports until we get back to the outpost anyway, so it can wait, at least for now.”

Val exhaled. She wanted to get this data into a system, to make sense of it all and look at it as a larger picture. But Siil was right, and he had the authority to command it. “Very well then. We’ll get ourselves looked at. But then, its back to work.”

Siil nodded. The two of them continued through the open doorway, and Siil cast one last glance back toward the Dirge.

The medical ward was located near the fighter docks for obvious reasons, so the trip was short. The grim, taciturn, dimly lit corridors of the Necropolis were a welcome sight for both of them. It was a thankful change of scenery from the gaudy gold and white that the Old Ones preferred. They had spent far more time on that ship than they had wanted to, even though it was likely less than a half a day.

“Its good to be home,” Val sighed, looking at the crenellated, dark gray walls. Pallid yellow lights cast a ghostly glow from inside the grooved crevices, illuminating the gloomy interior.

A square sign covered in glyphs pointed the way to the medical facilities. The empty halls were even more silent than usual with the lack of crew. Only the low thrum and background chirping of electronic components could be heard echoing through the catacombs of the Necropolis. They reached their destination, and the doors slid apart.

Within was a large, empty room, with several mechanical beds and bio-scanners. Siil peered inside.

“I don’t think anyone is here.”

A pulsing hum was heard, and Siil was suddenly face to face with a Repair Sentry. Its trio of eyes flashed as they examined him, and the enormous machine chirped mechanically. Siil backed up, and the Sentry cocked its head to one side as it examined him. It appraised him with a scanner hooked onto one arm, and then ushered him to a bed.

Siil stumbled from the sudden weight of the machine’s arm pressed into him, but he complied with its wishes. Val watched, and was slightly annoyed that it had ignored her, but figured it was likely due to Siil’s wounds being much more severe. She clambered onto an adjacent bed, and watched as the machine began to prod Siil with various instruments. One of its eight square, stocky legs was painted red with white trim, the sign of the Spaceborne Sciences guild, the same she was in. It was likely repurposed as a medical drone due to the lack of staff.

The machine showed its excellence, as hundreds of needles, pincers, and blades began working furiously on Siil as the Sentry hunched over him. Siil leaned back, and tried to relax.

Val watched him, but was bothered by a nagging feeling of being watched. She turned around, and saw the bed on her other side had a curtain drawn around it. She reached out and yanked the curtain open.

“Don’t hurt me!” Shaula yelled, covering his face with his arms, his stubby fingers splayed. He waited a moment, then lowered them.

Val sneered. “You look pathetic, and now you act pathetic as well.”

Shaula looked down and sighed. “I’ve just been exiled. How would you like it if you were to suddenly go blind? Because, I am blind now. Blind to the energies of the universe. I can’t even speak to my people any more.”

“You aren’t any worse off then.” Val spat. “They want you dead anyway, what do you care?”

Shaula looked at her, and met her gaze. She peered into his enormous, bulbous eyes, and as she stared into them, felt a pang in her chest. “I would have thought you would understand what it meant to want to be with your people.”

Val swallowed, and realized he was right. He was still their enemy; But he had suffered a fate all of them dreaded. She turned away from him, and laid back down. “Why are you here?”

Shaula reached up and touched the severed tendrils on his upper lip; The flesh was still raw, a deep black edged with dark cyan. He recoiled from the pain, and brought his hands back down. “Because the burns began to bleed again. Your race is very thin blooded, but you clot well. Our blood is very thick, but wounds must be cauterized thoroughly, because we don’t. I had to come back down because the tendrils heal very slowly.

“Will they grow back?” Val asked cautiously.

Shaula was silent for a moment, and inhaled. He breathed out once more. “No. Never.” He rolled over onto his side, his back to Val. “My life is over, and yet I still draw breath. I can’t see why.”

Siil sat in silence, listening to the two speak; It was a great distraction from the pain. Shaula was an Old One, and always would be. But maybe he now understood what it was to be a Necrontyr.

The two guards strode through the hallways of the Necropolis, a pair out of a handful of remaining security officers aboard. They hefted their pulse rifles as they stepped into the large hangar where the new Dirge sat.

“I can’t see anything, can you?” the first guard asked.

The second shook his head. “Lets get this over with.”

The first guard lifted his rifle and slowly advanced towards the ship, then signaled his partner forward. They two stepped onto the ramp and strode inside.

The first guard signaled right, and went left himself. The second guard acknowledged, and went right.

The two swept the sides of the ship. The first guard overturned an empty crate with his foot, and jumped when his partner screamed.

The first guard charged across the ship, and brought his rifle to bear. He leapt into the room, ready to pull the trigger, then looked down, and laughed.

His partner was backed against a wall, panting. “Shut up, you know I’m terrified of these things.”

The first guard walked over to the crablike creature in the center of the floor and picked it up by a leg. Its fleshy underbelly was covered by a thick brown carapace, and its multiple tentacled eyes appraised him. Its ten long, slender legs slowly waved about, seeking something for the claws at the tip to grasp. The first guard looked at his partner. “It’s a prowler crab. It eats debris. The Old Ones keep them as food.” He lifted it and examined it. “It looks plenty like dinner to me.”

The second guard was unconvinced. “I’ve seen those things attack before. You have no idea.”

The first guard dropped the creature into a crate and sealed the lid. The container cryo-froze. “We’ll save this for later. Lets go, theres nothing else here. This is probably what Neri was getting so paranoid over.”

He turned to leave, and a bright blue flash punctuated the interior of the ship. The guard’s head burst apart, and his body fell to the floor.

The second guard immediately leveled his rifle, looking around the room; He hadn’t seen where the shot had come from. He slowly advanced forward, breathing heavily. As he drew near the compartment door, he saw the end of a pistol whip around the corner in his direction. He lifted his rifle, but too late. A bright blue flash, and the second guard was eliminated.

Both corpses smelled of burnt flesh. Hausha couldn’t stand it. He hooked the pistol into his belt once again and claimed ammo from the fallen guards, then scurried off the Dirge and into the dark confines of the Necropolis.


----------



## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 7
DOUBT

Neri furrowed her brows in frustration momentarily, then resumed her trance-like expression. First weapons fire in the hangars, then two dead guards. There was only one logical conclusion, and that was that the cargo they had accidentally transported on board was, in fact, an enemy. She had no feeds from the area ready to view, as she had not had time to lift the lockdown completely.

Vier shook his head as he thought. “Did you do a bioscan of the entire Necropolis?”

“I assure you, I have scanned myself thoroughly.” Neri said. He had only been asking her that question for the entire week this trip had taken.

Vier thought of any place a scan wouldn’t reach, but the only sections that were impervious to bioscans were the reactor and the cryo tombs. If he were in the reactor core, he’d be subatomic particles before he’d even realized he had decided to take a bath in fluid-state antimatter. If he were in the cryo tombs, he’d be completely hidden; Therefore, it was most reasonable to assume he was in the tombs. Vier cursed at his own reasoning. They couldn’t risk letting the Necropolis dock and accidentally bring whatever it was that had attacked them onboard the outpost, but there was no way they could simply not return- Not with all they had learned. Especially from Val, who had opted to stay in the medical bay for whatever reason. Perhaps she was simply tired after nearly being killed many times in quick succession over the course of an entire day. Perhaps she wanted something else. It didn’t matter either way. They were headed home, and she’d have to get to work sooner or later.

It was too late to turn back now anyway. Several Jackal escort ships had surrounded them and were guiding them toward the Descendant, an enormous mobile space station that looked more like a colossal city than a base. It was equipped with inert stealth- Mirror smooth surfaces, just like the Necropolis, nearly invisible unless you were already aware of its presence. But if you were, you could clearly see its immense multi-tiered ring structure brimming with defensive weapons. The Descendant held a full hundred thousand Necrontyr, most of them civilian. Protruding from the highest ring were the open agricultural panels, and as they approached, vibrant indigo and red patches smattering a sea of green and brown were visible within. The Necropolis was only the size of a ring quarter- The Necropolis was a flagship, but the Descendant was absolutely monstrous.

They stopped a short distance from the Descendant, and the Jackals slowly came to a halt around them.

A cool, liquid male voice filled Neri’s mind, and was also audible through the rest of the chamber. “This is the docking ring Navigator. I am requesting information as to why you have delayed your docking procedure.”

Neri recognized the official tone, and was fully aware of the threat that backed it up. As her mind connected with his, she could feel him communicating with the defensive grid. Every facing turret on the platform was tracking them.

“We have unchecked foot hostiles hiding aboard. Lack of personnel has prevented us from performing a thorough search, and bioscans are inconclusive,” Neri responded coolly.

All was silent for a moment, and Neri was aware of the agitation of the other Navigator. “Connecting you with the current Guardian high commander.”

The channel popped, and Neri winced at the sudden mental link disruption. The new voice was only audible, something Neri was disappointed at. A stern female tone barked through the channel. “This is Guardian commander Linash-Ket. Am I reading this correctly? Unchecked foot hostiles? How many?”

Vier looked at Neri, who briefly returned his gaze. Vier cleared his throat. “We aren’t actually sure. They snuck aboard.”

“Well. Isn’t that fantastic. An unknown number of armed foot hostiles is prancing about your ship and your navigator can’t seem to find the worms in her own system. I’m assuming you’re the Keeper here. Where is your chief Guardian? I’d like a word with them.”

Neri bristled at her statement, visibly agitated by her poor understanding of the difficulty of bioscanning an entire Cairn. Vier looked at Neri, cocked one eyebrow, and continued resolutely. “We are understaffed as it is, and we don’t have one. In fact, we only have half a dozen Warriors aboard. We don’t even have any Guardians.”

Ket was silent. “OK. Who is this, because there’s no way this is the Keeper. No moron sends a Cairn out without Guardians. Furthermore, no moron is going to jerk me around. Connect me to someone with two brain cells to rub together or so help me I’m going to come on that ship, reach down your throat, and pull you inside-out by your rectum.”

Vier frowned. How pleasant this female was. Guardians were plenty fierce and debatably even more bloodthirsty than Warriors, but this level of aggression after a simple two sentences was, plain and simple, irritating. Vier narrowed his eyes. “We’re only on a Cairn because Cairns are the only ship with a power core large enough to provide energy for the massive communication relay we have aboard.”

“Wait.” There was silence, and a few distant beeps as Ket accessed data. “What is this ship’s designation?”

“This is the flagship Necropolis,” Vier hissed. He wondered if she’d word her apology in the form of stammering or abject embarrassment.

“Necropolis? What the…” Vier waited. “You idiot. Is there some reason why you didn’t bother to tell me something that important right off? First, there’s foot-hostiles that magically disappear, then it’s the most important ship in the entire fleet.” Vier set his jaw. He had expected that. More silence and beeping. “That means Gahat-Siil is overseeing. Where is he?” she demanded.

“He’s undergoing treatment in the medical bay here. He was shot point blank by an arc caster in the stomach. He’s recovering.”

“He’s recovering? As in, he’s not dead? Lucky, again. Is he conscious?”

“I’m not sure he’s in any state to offer any reports.” Vier glared. He wasn’t going to have Siil interrogated while he was having half his organs reassembled.

“That’s not what I asked. What I asked was, is he conscious. That means you either say ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

Vier curled his lip. Neither had authority over the other, but this individual was quickly becoming a huge nuisance. “Yes, he is conscious. But as I have said, he is in the medical bay. His wounds are, as you can imagine, quite severe, so bringing him up here is unwise, and his communicator module was mysteriously destroyed. There are currently no medical staff aboard either, so we refit a sentry for the job.”

“You’re telling me there’s no way to contact the medical facilities.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Vier sneered. Let her get around that one.

“And, as the Keeper, that is an acceptable situation to you? Are your superiors aware you have such an important individual in an unreachable section of the ship?”

Vier opened his mouth, ready to fire back with a witty response, then suddenly realized he didn’t have one; What she said was right. He was giving Siil a vacation, but it was true they weren’t out of danger yet. Still, he wasn’t technically unreachable; There were others there. He had simply chosen not to notify Ket of them. It seemed now he had no choice. “Well, there are two others in the medical bay with him, Sinnat-Val and Shaula.” He shut his eyes and cursed himself for saying that last name.

Several more beeps. “I’m not reading any Shaula on your crew allotment chart. Who is Shaula?”

Vier gulped, and prepared for the worst. “An Old One.”

Silence pervaded for a few moments. “Is that a joke? Theres an Old One on your ship, walking around, in your med bay, being treated like a first class Necrontyr, while you chase your own tails looking for some phantom hostile? Who the hell put you in charge of that ship after Thol died?”

Now she was questioning his ability to command the ship. Just what he needed, some irritable grunt telling him how to do his job. “He’s a defector. We’ve had him under surveillance ever since he came on board. There’s no way he could have killed the two Necrontyr on that ship. When it happened, we were monitoring him remotely, and he was nowhere near it.”

“A defector? An old one, defecting? I don’t believe it, and I’m astonished you did.”

“He’s an exile now and wishes to give us vital information about the Council that may help us win this war.”

“I don’t care if he’s an exile. There’s no way I’m letting him on this station. As soon as all his little froggy bits are patched up I want him sent straight to cryo-freeze.”

“Cryo-freeze kills Old Ones.”

“I’m well aware,” she spat. ”Send him to the brig then, and don’t let me catch sight of him once, or I’m going to boil him in a stew. Bring any mission-vital crew- Except this ‘Shaula’- aboard via shuttle, and this time, don’t let any rogue hostiles sneak aboard it. I’ll see about dispatching a team to scour that ship. I’m giving you clearance to dock in arm A, subsection 4F. Prime parking. And I’ll be waiting for you myself, so don’t get any crazy ideas.”

The channel snapped off.

“Quite the pleasant one, isn’t she?” Neri said calmly.

“Oh yes. Charming.” Vier said as he strode out.

Siil opened his eyes and stretched, then winced as pain shot through his stomach. He put his arms back down, grimacing. He looked down at his stomach; A rough patch of skin sprawled across his underbelly, covered in burns and lacerations. He had been reassembled, but the flesh around the wound would take some time to heal. He was shirtless, something that was completely unacceptable to him; He thought he felt exposed only wearing an interface suit. This was far worse. He had objected at first, but the sentry sedated him and he woke up half naked. The interface suit was getting in its way, and its objective was to repair his body, not keep his modesty intact.

Siil let his head fall down again and closed his eyes, but was startled awake by a loud growl. He jerked upright, grabbing the nearest solid object to use as a weapon, and his eyes darted back and forth through the dark room. Pain jabbed through him like hundreds of hot needles, but he ignored it; He had heard that something was loose aboard the ship, and he wasn’t about to be killed by it. He waited a few seconds, and the noise came again, this time from his left. He turned to face it, but realized it was coming from one of the others.

He set the weapon down, sighed, and watched Shaula dryly. He was snoring.

He watched a moment more, and jumped when Shaula spat, “What are you looking at?”

Siil blinked twice. “You’re awake?”

The sound bellowed forth again, and Siil realized Val was the one snoring.

“Of course I’m awake. How can anyone sleep with that awful din penetrating their brain?” He gestured to Val in the dim light.

Shaula rolled over onto his back again and stared at the ceiling. Siil propped himself up on one elbow and examined the Old One through narrowed eyes, trying to read him. 

The large, globular eye on the right side of Shaula’s face rolled in Siil’s direction. “I have excellent lateral vision, you know. I can see you still staring at me. Is there something you want to say, or are you content simply observing my suffering?”

“Under normal circumstances, I’d be more than content. But for some reason, I’m not.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Shaula asked, turning to face him.

Siil narrowed his eyes further. “I don’t know. And that’s why it bothers me.”

“Huh.” Shaula muttered, and rolled onto his back once more. “Perhaps you understand then. Understand what I’m doing. And why I have to do what I am. Perhaps you feel… Compassion.”

Siil was getting tired of Shaula’s indirect answers. “Enough shadowy double talk. Aside from betraying your council, I have no idea what it is you have to do.”


Shaula inhaled, paused briefly to think, and asked, “Do you know who the Tymloche are?”

Siil frowned. “Of course. They’re members of our race so mentally advanced that they have found ways to manipulate time, and they serve as-“

“No.” Shaula sat upright and narrowed his eyes at Siil. Siil stopped and recoiled, confused by this outburst. “Do you know WHO they are? I did not ask WHAT they are. I asked WHO they are.” Shaula slowly slid back down onto his cot, and stared at the ceiling once more. “Until quite recently I was sure I knew exactly who my governing body was. They were a force for good in the galaxy, to forge a new galaxy for new races we would seed it with. I have recently learned they are an organization who wants to usurp the existing races to replace with new ones they can control. It’s their way of ensuring peace and prosperity. So. I ask you again.” Shaula’s eye rolled back in his direction. “Do you know who the Tymloche are?”

Siil narrowed his eyes. An Old One was questioning his government, the organization who had directly ordered him on this mission. However, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat shaken- After all, what he said was true. He’d only heard whispers of the Tymloche, and received their orders- Nothing more. They were an indirect ruling body, but who was to say they did not have their hands elsewhere?

Siil stood, visibly disturbed. He had underestimated Shaula. He cleared the thoughts from his head. All that had transpired had been the work of the Old Ones; They had all seen recordings of it, and there were even Afflicted Poets left who could retell the events of their fathers during the War, and what had started it. The Tymloche simply were and had always been.

Siil opened his eyes, and shielded them from the light in the medical bay. His vision was blurry, but he could make out a huge, silver disk with a trio of glowing green eyes. He blinked to clear his vision, and realized he had been asleep. He darted up, his head colliding with the machine, but he didn’t care. He wrenched to his left, and gawked in horror and confusion; Val was stomach down, her face cocked to one side, mouth open. Her torso heaved with a breath, and a snore tore from her mouth. She smacked her lips and turned her head the other way, still asleep. Shaula was sleeping on his back, hands folded over his stomach peacefully. His eyebrow tendrils vibrated a few times and he grunted, but continued to sleep.

Siil realized he was breathing heavy, his eyes darting back and forth from the sleeping Old One to the Sentry. The pain in his head slowly entered his attention, and he rubbed the sore spot. The machine pressed him downward into the bed again, and injected a needle into his arm. His thoughts came rushing to him all at once, and he realized he had been administered a stimulant to wake him up.

The sentry picked him up by one arm and dragged him from the bed. Siil resisted, trying to get a good view of Shaula. He watched as he was pulled through the door, but Shaula continued to sleep. Siil gripped the doorframe, still confused.

Shaula’s eye lazily rolled open and focused on him.

Siil stared at him in shock momentarily before being jerked out of the room.

Siil was still trying to look backwards into the medical bay when he was stopped. He turned around, and noticed he was face to face with Vier. The older Necrontyr looked less than amused.

“I’ve seen you in much better shape.” Vier said.

Siil popped his neck. “You don’t look so great either. I’ve been shot. Whats your excuse?”

Vier let a half grin slide across his face momentarily. Good, he was awake. He gestured to the sentry. “Get the other one now.”

Siil rubbed his eyes with one hand. He’d been sedated for nearly the whole week. “Is there a reason why I’m awake?”

“We’re currently stationed just outside of the Descendant’s safe zone. In order to prevent any sort of breach of security, we have to board by shuttle to prevent any… Unwanted visitors from sneaking aboard the Descendant. Get dressed.”

The sentry returned, with a groggy Val being pulled along beside it. A deep scowl covered her face, and she whacked the machine out of spite; Fortunately, her engineering suit was elsewhere, replaced by the thin cloth medical garments, so the blow was insufficient to damage it, and it ignored her insurrection. It released her next to Siil, and hovered off once more. Val rubbed her arm and scowled after it, irritated by the sudden awakening.

Siil appraised her now much more revealed form. Val stopped rubbing her arm and glared daggers at him. He looked at her awkwardly before averting his gaze.

Vier shook his head. ”Just get dressed. Both of you. Once Neri is finished bioscanning you, you can go back inside and get your things. Siil, we’ve located an old basic uniform for you, seeing as your neural interface suit has been put through some rough times.”

Vier waited a few moments, until his communicator chirped. “Are you finished Neri?” he inquired.

“All seems to be in working order. They are cleared to resume duties.” She replied.

Val knew they had been given a vacation; She was cleared to resume duty as soon as they had discovered her rib had grafted properly and her implants were refilled an hour after admission. However, she had enjoyed every moment of sleep she had gotten; It had been so long since she had gotten any rest, and it was likely to be some time before she got any more. Such was the cost of greatness, she thought.

Vier nodded to them and turned, striding purposefully back through the corridors of the ship. Siil waited for him to disappear, then bolted back to the infirmary.

Val reached out to grab him, gritting her teeth as he slipped past her. She set her jaw, and stomped back through the hall after him.

Siil threw himself into the doorframe, intent on confronting Shaula. He looked around, but Shaula was gone. He swore, and walked to the locker at the foot of his bed.

He opened it and was made aware of a presence behind him. He looked over his shoulder.

Val stood over him, hands on her hips. “Now what was that about?” Val asked, irritated.

Siil sighed. “I had a weird dream. Shaula was in it, I was going to ask Shaula about it.” He put his tongue in his cheek. Yes, it had, in fact, sounded just as stupid as it did in his head.

Val shook her head. “I don’t know where Shaula is. A couple of guards were leading him away when I was woken up.” She went to her own locker and opened it. She began sorting through the contents. “I suppose they want him locked up for security reasons. Can’t hurt, I suppose.”

Siil shook his head. “No reason to do that.”

Val stopped and looked at him. “Don’t tell me you actually care.”

Siil looked at her. “About his safety? No. But we know he isn’t the one doing it, so it’s a waste of space.”

Val cocked one eyebrow, and continued gathering her things. She extricated her red coat and bodysuit from the trunk, along with her gloves and energy pack. She looked around for some privacy, and decided to seek refuge within the storage compartment hooked to the room. The door slid shut behind her.

Siil quickly got dressed. He hated the uniforms; Purely ceremonial, and ultimately useless. It was all too loose on him, with gaudy silver buttons over the thick, heavy black fabric.

The door slip open once more, and a fully clothed Val emerged, tightening the strap on one of her gloves. She strode directly past Siil. “You look ridiculous.”

She walked out, her boots clacking down the hallway. Siil looked down at himself. It was better than nothing.

The bars closed behind Shaula. He looked around him and sighed. This whole ship was devoid of any sort of vibrance; Everything was all doom and gloom here. At least on his ships the prisons looked nice. He leaned against the bars and screamed as a jolt shot through him. He was thrown forward to the floor, and he struggled up. He blinked, but spots swam through his vision, and his legs didn’t want to hold him.

One of the guards behind him laughed, and ushered his partner off. He was left alone. Shaula simply collapsed on his back and tried to let the electrical current work its way out. He sighed. Here he was, locked in the brig of an enemy ship, amidst a sea of aliens who hated him simply for what he was. He was told by the Keeper it was for “security purposes”. Apparently, the security officer who was aboard the station was less than fond of his presence on this ship- Even less so than the others he shared it with, which he thought was hardly possible. He gazed upwards at the smooth gray ceiling, and allowed himself to relax. At least he was alive. And besides, it couldn’t get any worse.

Shaula closed his eyes, but was startled by a deep voice outside the bars. It was the most terrifying thing he had ever heard.

"Traitor."


----------



## deathbringer

Excellent ending, overall a very interesting stroy, plot wise fascinating. 
Plus your opening lines were fantastic, i really really enjoyed that opening scene

occassionally during the scenes your writing looses a lot of emphasis, maybe its just me but I find you build up the tension and especially during the battle scenes, you build up the pace and then one line just jolts the whole flow of the piece.

I think its just me, but i think going back and reading it out loud instead of in your head would be really beneficial.

other than that the plot was fantastic and im definitely intrigued so 10 out of 10 in that respect


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## Iron Angel

I find that sometimes, the image in my head becomes much shorter when I put it down on paper, so to speak, and believe me, I have noticed it and have vowed to go through it sometime and stretch it out a bit more. Most of the time I'm going stright from mental image to media format and the image in my head, while quite vibrant, loses its frill on the way through the fingers. I'll fix it before the end, don't worry.


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## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 8
SOLACE

“This is the Necropolis Defiler 14, requesting clearance for an entry route.” Vier said, keying his headset.

The communicator chimed. “Registered, Defiler 14. Continue along the plotted course.”

Vier tapped the ship’s controls, and it began navigating along a path visible only to Vier. He sighed. “I need a drink.”

Siil relaxed, thankful.

He looked to one side, through one of the circular viewports on one side of the ship. The stars slid by through the inky blackness as the transport ship advanced through the sea of emptiness towards their destination. Ahead of them sprawled the Descendant, slowly growing in size as their tiny ship drew nearer.

“The nightmare is finally over,” Val said to him. He looked toward her, and her face was relaxed. She was more at ease than he’d seen her before.

He nodded. “The last few weeks have been quite a struggle.”

She looked at him, and examined his face. “That’s not what I mean, and you of all people know it.”

Siil turned his gaze back to the viewport. He’d understood her meaning. They’d finally found something they could use. Their people now had some sort of hope, a chance to wriggle out from under the crushing weight of the Old Ones’ oppression. 

The Descendant was now threatening to fill the front view, glittering viewports and deep, angular crenelations stretching across its expansive surface. Glimmering silver spokes emanated from it, luminescent green rods along their length, ending at the ball joints that secured the massive turrets to the monolithic stronghold. Vier watched them approach with awe and pride, taking his attention from the craft’s controls briefly. A single of those battlements could puncture an Old Ones’ cruiser with a single shot, and the Descendent was bristled with them. 

A mechanical sound behind Siil interrupted his focus, and he glanced backward at the repair sentry who had served as their replacement medical official. It was unconventional to treat a construct as an officer, but it was the only thing that had first-hand experience with their wounds. Its massive head swiveled slightly in his direction, its body shifting slightly with the redistribution of weight within its own zero gravity field. He examined its side- Its designation was a long string of numerical digits and letters, indecipherable as far as he was concerned. It cocked its head at him, and he turned around once more.

The Descendant now fully engulfed their view, stretching on for miles in either direction, its smooth, metallic surface reflecting the distant starlight. A hangar door in front of them slid apart, inviting the small craft in. Vier guided the boarding shuttle into the bay and swiveled sideways, landing smoothly. The craft jolted, the artificial gravity in the hangar suddenly snapping on and straining the landing gear of the small Defiler landing craft. The doors slid shut once more, and the hangar pressurized.

Vier removed his headset. “Let’s not keep them waiting. I’m sure you two are in for some very long days here shortly.” Vier said, glancing back at them.

Val groaned slightly. Give half-day long debriefs to shady Tymloche courier courts was the last thing she wanted to do after getting settled aboard a station, not the first.

A sharp hiss was heard, and the entire side of the craft folded down into a ramp. Waiting at the end of the hangar was a squad of Guardians. Their combat suits were huge and bulky- Far less efficient than the highly mobile design that Warriors were equipped with. The five Guardians had their massive Ion Cannons leveled at the ship. The single Guardian not bearing a helmet quickly examined the crew, then waved her hand. The guardians lowered their weapons.

“Oh look, two warm welcomes in one day.” Vier shouted across the Hangar.

She beckoned to them, her bulky suit humming as the massive joint urged the broad appendage forward.

They trudged down the ramp and across the hangar. Siil was absolutely humiliated; He was wearing an old, dusty piece of cloth, being scrutinized by five fully armed and suited Guardians. He didn’t like feeling powerless. He cursed himself for relying on his suit, and recollected his emotions. His mind was still as sharp as ever without it, and that was plenty.

Val recognized the suits as newer models, and deduced that the station must be fairly well supplied. They were taking a huge risk using long supply lines; The Old Ones might track the cargo back to this station, and it would likely spark another fleet skirmish.

“That’s quite close enough.” Ket barked. Her cold, ice blue eyes slid over them, examining them momentarily. Her short red hair was swept up the right side of her head and down the left, jaggedly rolling across her scalp like a wave of fire- And cleanly exposing the massive scar running across her right cheek to her jawline. She chewed her tongue for a moment, looking for something.

“Ah, Siil.” She burst out, gesturing toward him. Her face remained slightly scowling and completely unwelcoming. “I almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve let your hair grow, I see. And you’ve gained some authority,” she said, tapping her left eye- The location of Siil’s combat insignia. “three bars of a sunburst. Two more and you might be important.”

Siil ignored her prod. “I see you’re still part of Crimson.”

She thumbed backwards at the four Guardians flanking her. “Someone had to keep these idiots in line after you left to write history books in your free time.”

Siil nodded; the Crimson Brigade was Career only. Selecting a Role meant leaving for another Brigade. His Career was Warrior, but he had chosen Poet as a Role, and that meant he had to leave.

She shook her head, pulling a luminescent holopad from a compartment in her suit. “Long time, no see.” She appraised the rest of them. “Tenet-Vier, Gana-Thol’s replacement. You have some big shoes to fill, old man. You’re off to a great start,” She mocked, keying his name. “Blah blah, random string of garbage. You’re here.” She gestured at the Sentry, pressed her holopad, and moved on. “And this must be Sinnat-Val.” She examined her. “Never heard of you. Judging by that flimsy engineering rig, you must be another data pusher. Just what I need on my station, more dead weight.” She keyed her name.

“She saved my life back there. I’d hardly call her dead weight.” Siil snapped, irritated.

Ket stopped and looked at him. “Well, well, Siil. You’re just full of surprises.”

She strode toward Val, examining her. Her massive suit dwarfed Val’s slight frame, and Val grew increasingly nervous- and increasingly irritated- as she drew closer. The heavy thunking of Ket’s boots reverberated through the large chamber. “I’m sensing some kind of sensitivity here. Siil, I never had you pegged for liking the techie types.” She stopped in front of Val and put one hand on her hip. She examined the fingers of the other. “In fact, from what I remember, you prefer a more rough and tumble type of lady.” She narrowed her eyes and grinned at him, chewing her lower lip.

Siil glared at her. “That was a long time ago.”

“Yeah. Yeah it was.” Ket offered one more scrutinizing glare to an embarrassed Val. She dropped her hand, the suit whirring to control the freefall of the weight, and she wheeled around back toward the doors. She pointed to one of the guardians. “You four. If you so much as take your eyes off that ship, I’ll pull them out. Anything else gets off, you have my order to shoot first and ask questions never.”

The Guardian she was pointing at shifted, hefting his large weapon. He nodded, chuckling malevolently, the red, skull-shaped facemask bobbing up and down. “Orders received, I assure you.”

She looked over her shoulder. “As for the rest of you, the courier court is still preparing to receive you. They want you tomorrow. That means you can go aboard and get some sleep. And if you don’t mind, I’ll be going. I have much more important matters to attend to than babysitting the lot of you. And, one more thing,” she said, raising her finger. “All of you, stay together. I’d hate to have to chase all of you all over the place. You’re only cleared to remain in this sector. Try to go anywhere else, guards at the sector checkpoints will stop you and turn you around. If you're lucky, you won't be aerodynamic when they do it.”

Val leaned closer to Siil and whispered, "Aerodynamic?"

"It means full of holes," Siil responded.

With that, she strode from the hangar into the station, rounded a corner, and vanished.

***

Shaula struggled to his feet and wheeled around to face the bars. His breath came shallow and ragged; With fear or anger, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter either way.

He searched the cell with his eyes, but saw nothing. He blinked, and continued to look around. He sighed. It must have been all in his head.

“I heard what you’re going to do.”

That time he had heard it for sure. Shaula instinctively reached over his shoulder for his weapon, but grasped only the air. He grit his teeth, remembering he no longer was armed.

Through the bars, Shaula watched as a nonchalant Hausha strode into view. Hausha turned to face him, his hands behind his back, and popped his lips a few times- A show of disappointment. “I can still read your thoughts, even if you can’t directly send them or receive them. I know what you plan to do, and I’m afraid I can’t allow it.” He drew his pistol, and fired it.

Shaula shielded his face, and waited a few moments. He was clamping his eyes shut, and he realized he was holding his breath. He opened his eyes and put down his arms, looking out through the bars in wonder. Then he laughed.

An infuriated Hausha stood outside the bars, with a burn mark behind him on the wall, pistol still leveled. He fired two more times, and the ionized plasma collided with an invisible web of electricity that leapt between the bars, intercepting the bolts, and deflecting them into the wall behind him, adding two more scorch marks to the surface.

Shaula grinned. Hausha returned the gesture, and pushed the pistol between the bars, careful not to touch them.

Shaula charged forward, gripped the pistol by the barrel, and slammed Hausha’s arm sideways. A numbing sensation came over him, followed by searing pain, as the electrified bars coursed their current through both of them. Shaula was tossed backwards, tearing the weapon from Hausha’s hand, while Hausha was still caught in the electric field.

Hausha bellowed shrieks of agony. The electrical arcs bounced between his arm and the surrounding metal, dousing the room in strobes of brilliant blue. Hausha gritted his teeth, and jerked his arm free, being hurled backwards by the force of the field.

Shaula panted, propping himself up on one elbow. His breaths came short and ragged, and each one sent spikes of pain through his chest. He looked down at the pistol in his hand, and dropped it, sighing in relief. It clattered to the floor at his side, and he locked his gaze on Hausha.

Hausha struggled to his feet. He was wobbly after the electrical shock, but ground his teeth and scowled at Shaula. He dusted himself off, thin wisps of smoke flowing from his clothing. The two remained, gazes locked, for several minutes. Hausha’s chest heaved with each breath, and he scrutinized Shaula, examining him.

“I’ve been trying to find you for some time, Shaula. I can’t let you destroy all we have worked to create.”

Shaula struggled to his feet, pushing himself up on one knee. He slowly regained his balance. “And just what is it we’ve created, Hausha? Looking back, it doesn’t seem so clear.”

Hausha put his hands behind his back. “We’ve created peace, order, prosperity.”

“For who? Ourselves? We’ve made new races, but all we’ve done with them is control them and use them to bring other races, races that were already here, under control.” Shaula said, balling his fists. He couldn’t believe he was saying it. Without the lies of the Council clouding his vision, the picture looked much more detailed.

Hausha shook his head. “These races NEED to be controlled,” he said, slamming is fist into his palm. “That’s the only way to make sure they prosper. Look around you, at these Necrontyr. Perfect examples. Petty and insecure, with thoughts of little except for themselves. If they had accepted our dominion, they would live longer, healthier lives, they would be happier, they wouldn’t suffer under their own stupidity. But instead they resisted us, so they had to be contained. Even now, they resist us.”

“That is because they fight for what they believe in. I see now all too clearly that the reason they fight is because it is their only choice- A choice we forced on them.” Shaula pointed Hausha. “I was there during first contact, and then I believed that they were simply hate-filled and arrogant, eager to refuse help even though they were in desperate need of it. Now I see it is because our aid was not worth their freedom.”

Hausha huffed. “Freedom. What use is freedom when you use it only to doom yourself?”

“Its use is to be able to make that decision for yourself. Had we not tried to force them to adhere to our beliefs in exchange for aid, and instead offered our hand to them freely, perhaps we would not be in this situation, with billions dead and more dying every day.” Shaula said. He was surprised and horrified at his own words; He had already put a great deal of thought into the matter over the last week, meditating in silence as he worked out the puzzle of what he had seen in the minds of the Council in that brief moment before he was exiled. It had been a rush of information, and he still understood only a fraction of what he had seen, but what he did comprehend was enough to give serious pause to his faith in the war. Thinking it was one thing, but hearing himself say it out loud filled him with dread at his own actions.

Hausha narrowed his eyes. “I see you have already spent too long amongst these…” He waved his hand, looking for the proper word. “Abominations. It is unfortunate there is no way to make you see the error in your ways. I will be watching you, Shaula. Watching and waiting. Oh, and… I hope your new friends aren’t aboard that station.”

With that, Hausha turned and nonchalantly strode down the corridor and disappeared around a corner.

Shaula watched after him, and swallowed. He had started down a road there was no turning back from. The point of no return was crossed, and if Hausha caught him alone, he was as good as dead. But what had he meant about the station?

Shaula picked up the pistol that lay next to him, and trudged to the cot on the side of the cell. He hoisted himself up on it, his short arms straining to lift him the few feet to the surface. He kicked his legs, and flopped down atop the mattress, rolling onto his back. He was safe, at least for now.

“Do we really have to bring this ting with us?” Vier asked, eyeing the sentry floating behind them lazily as they walked through the elevated walkways of the large internal city. 

“Ket said we had to move together. Nobody come to take it, so it has to stay with us. Do you really want to get her angry?” Siil asked, turning his gaze to him.

Vier nodded. “Good point.”

Siil sighed, glad to be back somewhere peaceful, somewhere he could breathe. The large metal walkway was ridged, and hung suspended over a deep expanse of water dotted by green islands, with buildings and walkways suspended above. The entire inside of the ring had been modeled as a residential area on a water world, with large, pyramidal and cuboid buildings held aloft by single, slender shafts that descended far into the depths below. Above them, the inside of the ring was covered in photocells, displaying a black, starry sky with wispy violet swirls barely visible behind the glimmering points of light. Two moons slowly eased by, one red crescent and a white sphere, bathing the area in pale luminescence. Lanterns dotted the walkways, yellow circles of light atop curved metallic shafts. A Necrontyr couple sat on a balcony on the side of one of the structures, simply looking upwards at the stars. Though they may not have been real, they felt close enough to home that it was enough. Shadows flitted across the sky intermittently, transport ships destined for other rings or other sectors. The altitude of the ships made the enormous size of the chamber that much more apparent.

Val was focusing on data on her holopad, which cast a greenish glow across her face. Her eyes darted beck and forth across it as she absently followed Siil and Vier.

“What are you doing?” Siil asked, slowing down to get to her side, and then attempting to peer at the surface.

Val glared at him, irritated that he had broken her concentration. “It’s a map. I honestly have no idea where we’re headed.”

“Whats wrong, never been on solid land before?” Vier asked. “Well, not technically solid land. We’re still hurtling through space, but it sure feels like home.”

“I’m sure,” Val said, ignoring his prod. Her home was among the stars. The open spaces and fresh air of this simulated world were getting on her nerves, and she couldn’t help but feel anxious and uneasy.

Siil looked at him. “Have you been here before?”

Vier nodded. “Of course, this was a big waypoinht during a defensive hold of Beta.”

“So then, you know where we’re going.” Siil said, nodding. He had no idea either.

“Yes, I do. We’re headed to a little place in the city center. Lots to drink, and we can finally relax.”

Val looked at him, not at all amused. “A pub. Seriously. Shouldn’t you be preparing your own reports?”

Vier shrugged. “Mine are already done. Besides. You get to my age, being worked up all the time about this damn war wears you out.”

They drew towards one of the islands, and the buildings suddenly became much tighter and larger, rectangular shapes and prisms stuffed close together atop the much more weight receptive surface. Vier led them through the small, dense cluster of structures until he stopped in front of an otherwise unremarkable building, shaped like a tall, crenelated cylinder. Sections of it were cut out, leaving the second floor open to the atmosphere.

“We’re here,” Vier said with a note of relief.

Val cringed. She hated these places; They were noisy and always filled with rambunctious sorts. “I’m not going in there,” She hissed.

Vier shrugged, and threw the violet cloak that covered his left arm backward over his shoulder. “Suit yourself. Feel free to stay out here, with all this open space, and air.” He turned around to the hexagonal door, and it slid apart ahead of him.

Siil leaned against the wall. “I’d like some peace, if you don’t mind. I’ll come in later.”

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready.” Vier said, and entered the building. He motioned to the sentry to stay outside, and it floated away to hover next to Siil.

Val glared at him, but he ignored her. He wanted to just sit and breathe fresh air for once. Val huffed, and followed Vier inside, the door sliding shut behind her.

Val covered her mouth; The place absolutely reeked of intoxicants. She considered going back outside, but at least here she felt secure in the smaller space. The large, circular room was bathed in violet light, and the noise of a multitude of conversations hummed around her, most centered around the gambling going on at several of the tables.

Vier surveyed the area speculatively, peering over the heads of the Necrontyr milling about. Val called his name, but he didn’t notice.

Val tugged on his sleeve. “Vier! Answer me!”

Vier’s eyebrows perked and he turned to her, ducking towards her to hear her better over the noise. “What is it?”

“Where are we going to sit?” she asked, eyeing the room with horror and disgust.

Vier shook his head. “You can sit wherever you’d like. I’m going to make myself a seat right over there.” He pointed to a circular table occupied by three female Necrontyr. “I’ll see you in about an hour. But,” he added, “Only if I’m unlucky.” He nodded once and slithered through the mass of bodies. Val watched him, and could faintly hear him talk to the three women as he sat down; “I’m sorry, I’m waiting for some other high officers to show up, and I didn’t want to take up a whole table by myself. Would you mind if I sat here for a moment?”

Val rolled her eyes and sighed. She awkwardly pushed her way through the seething swarm of bodies, all grouped together to watch games of chance at the larger tables. As she waded through them, she felt a sudden sting in her backside and heard a loud slap. She jumped, and whirled around to see where it had come from.

A young Necrontyr male flanked by several others grinned at her and raised his eyebrows. “You must be one of those techies from up on Ring 3. Some pretty nice equipment you got there,” he said, grinning. “And the suit doesn’t look too bad either.”

Val glared at him. “Shove off. That’s the only warning you get.”

He raised his eyebrows and looked at the others surrounding him, snickering. “Well, well, we have a fighter. I like it when they fight back.” He advanced on her, grabbing her by the shoulder.

Rage overwhelmed her, and she shook off his hand. Her eyes went wild and she grit her teeth, swinging her right fist at him. The hardened inertial enhancers in her glove jerked her arm taut as her fist collided with his jaw and continued moving, hurling him backwards with a sickening snap. The entire room went silent suddenly, and the young Necrontyr that she had hit lay on the ground, out cold, his jaw cocked to one side. She panted, and stood up straight, aware of every eye in the room being pointed in her direction. She turned and saw Vier, eyes wide with surprise, watching her.

She continued onward, finding an empty seat and dropping herself into it. She put her head in her hand, and sat in silence. She looked up again, wondering why nobody was going back to their business, and her heart sank.

Standing in the doorway of the facility was a massive combat suit. Ket folded her arms and stared at Val, her tongue in her cheek.

She slowly began to make her way across the room, the suit mechanically whirring as the large boots slowly kicked forward, then collided with the ground once more. “Well. I let you onto this station, and the first thing you do is punch a guy out. Is there some reason why I shouldn’t detain you?”

Siil walked in behind her, confused. He moved past Ket, and spotted the unconscious Necrontyr. He rubbed his temples. “What did you do, Val?”

Val huffed. “It was self defense. He slapped me, I warned him to go away, and then he grabbed me. I fought back, he ended up on the floor.”

Ket narrowed her eyes at Val, then plodded over to the dazed young Necrontyr. She examined him, and shook her head. “Yep. That’s Faal. He’s done this exact same thing about a dozen times now.” She stood straight again. “Of course, I still don’t believe you. Is there someone who saw it happen?” she asked, putting her fists on her hips.

Vier grit his teeth, and raised his hand. He put his chin down on the table. The three Necrontyr females quickly cleared out, and he narrowed his eyes, nodding. Of course. “I saw it. She’s telling the truth.”

Ket looked at him, and then looked at her. “I’ll buy it. This time. But only because we’re in a hurry. Next time you haul off and land a prize-winning right hook to some guy’s jaw, make sure you have some witnesses who aren’t afraid to speak up.”

Siil cleared his throat. “Which brings us to the next problem.”

Ket looked at him and put up her hand, cutting him off. “I’ll say it, thanks. I came all this way, I’ll be the one who gets to bear the bad news.” She turned back to Val and Vier, and beckoned for them both.

Vier and Val both followed her back outside, where a small spherical shuttle was waiting for them. The silvery surface folded apart, revealing two long benches. The four of them entered the shuttle and sat down.

“Its awfully big for just the four of us,” Val remarked.

Siil elbowed her, then raised his eyebrows and looked up.

Val followed his gaze, and dodged the Sentry’s descent into the car. She landed nearly in Siil’s lap as it came down to occupy the space between the two benches, and it looked her almost quizzically.

Siil looked at her and cleared his throat. She turned to face him, and was suddenly embarrassed. She slid off of his leg to sit beside him once more.

The top of the vehicle folded down once more, and lifted into the air. Once it had ascended high enough, it accelerated toward the dock entrance.

The floor of the shuttle was clear, and Val looked down through it at the spiraling dots of light that were the lanterns on the walkways below. The water reflected the light from the ceiling in glittering waves of white and crimson. Val felt herself falling forward, and caught herself before she tipped off the bench.

“If you’re done sightseeing, I’ll tell you whats going on,” Ket said irritably.

Val glared at her.

Ket ignored her. “There was some weapons fire on your ship. But your navigator didn’t know about it until after the fact. No discharge detection at all. She only figured it out because of trace ionization in the air consistent with the firing of an ion weapon.”

Val shook her head. “That’s not possible, sensors would have picked up any shots instantly. The heat, magnetism, radiation…”

“Which is why this is so important. If you’ll let me get to the point, its that whatever is aboard your ship can somehow hide energy signatures.”

Vier nodded. “That’s why Neri couldn’t find it then.”

Ket nodded. “And that’s why I’m getting all of you back on that ship. We don’t have any spare staff and a ship that important needs every hand it can get. I’ll be going aboard to lead a Guardian team to root that little nuisance out. Just stay out of our way.”


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## Saint7515

I'm catching up with all the fiction Ive missed over the last four months. Want MOAR. +rep anyway.


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## Serpion5

:biggrin::biggrin::biggrin:

Love it! Necrontyr fluff is so rare, you`ve done a sweet job! I`ll follow this to the finish.


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## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 9
CONSIGNED

"Keep firing!"

Ket screamed a blood-curdling shriek of rage as she hefted the enormous plasma cannon and squeezed the trigger mechanism. Her body shook with the immense force of the roaring discharges, but she continued screaming as the superheated blasts of energy hurtled down the corridor, their fury scorching anything they came near, eventually stopping in the chest of an enormous creature that barely fit inside the confined space. The creature roared in agony and rage as it was peppered by blasts from ion cannons and plasma, its rugged green skin smoldering and peeling to reveal its mottled black and green muscles. Thick blood jetted from its wounds, its scorched ceramic armor penetrated and blasted apart. It fell forward, its monstrous bolt cannon skidding forward as it attempted to continue fighting even in death. It was quickly replaced by two smaller ones, bellowing in bloodthirsty fury, oblivious to the killzone, their bolt cannons rattling as they spewed their metallic carnage.

Siil ducked behind a door frame, the metallic thunking of the heavy metal rods embedding themselves in the surrounding ship. He was unarmed and unarmored, and infuriating situation. He grit his teeth and watched a Guardian fall backwards as metal rods appeared protruding from his chest. He flailed, firing his weapon wildly, determined to kill his foe even as his body shut down. "How did they even get in!?" Siil screamed over the raging battle.

Ket's weapon stopped firing, its warning cries shrieking as it overheated. Ket snapped out of her frenzy and threw herself behind something solid again. She panted, trying to look around the wall as she discharged the overheated powersource and fit a new one in. "How the hell should I know!? I can bet it had something to do with your little friend!"

Siil ground his teeth. He didn't want to believe Shaula had done something like this; But how did Siil know his connection to the warp was severed? There was, after all, the dream. "We'll find out when we reach him!"

Ket managed to force the power coil into the weapon, and it fell silent again, replaced by a sharp, angry whine as the coil warmed up. Ket prematurely jerked the charging lever, intentionally overclocking the power source. It screamed an alert siren at her as the power coil nearly overloaded, but she ignored it. "If I let him live long enough to speak." She swung out from behind the doorjamb and resumed her furious assault.

Siil shook his head; She was dangerous, even to her allies. He let it go, and keyed his comm. "Val! How is that flank coming?"

Static was his response, until Val's voice came over the device. She was desperately trying to remain calm and collected, but the strain and barely controlled panic were obvious in her voice. "We're working on it. Your opening is on its way soon."

Siil crouched back further into the space as an explosion rocked the other side of the wall. Ket shielded her eyes, the front end of the weapon clattering to the floor as shrapnel bounced from her armored limb. She quickly reclaimed the front end of the weapon and ducked behind the other side of the doorframe again.

"They have some kind of mounted rocket system!" Ket screamed. "We don't have the kind of weapons needed to face down something like that! Tell that damn tech to hurry it up!"

Siil squeezed the comm as another explosion rocked the corridor, this time accompanied by a sharp scream. "Val! Lets go!"

The comm crackled. "Its on its way now. I hope this works."

"Me too," Siil whispered.

Guttural roars filled the end of the corridor, and the sound of gunfire slamming into Siil's scant cover halted suddenly. Siil poked his head around the corner to watch a wave of sentries swarm the attacking aliens, their massive forms clogging the hallway as they tore the green-skinned monsters apart at the limbs. They forced them down one side of the intersection, clearing the path to the jails. The remaining guardians continued firing anyway, locked in their frenzy, only stopping when they no longer could see the enemy. Val sprinted around the corner and threw herself to the ground as a particularly trigger happy guardian took aim. he stopped himself at the last moment, and Siil rushed out to help her.

"How did you control them all?" Siil asked, looking at the departing wave of frenzied Sentries.

Val climbed to her feet. "I didn't."

The sentry that had repaired Siil floated around the corner, barely audible beeping and chirping emanating from somewhere within its massive carapace. It turned to face them, its broad head tilting as it appraised him.

Ket watched them, eyes alert for any stragglers. "Alright, lets get going, boys and girls," she said as she stomped from behind the doorframe, stepping on the bodies of the dead, both friend and foe. The remaining handful of guardians revealed themselves, clambering out from behind makeshift barricades and piles of bodies they had been using for cover.

Val thumbed towards the sentry. "Its got a control module built into it. It just interfaced with the ship's repair systems and called a bunch of Sentries to it. Neri didn't even know we were equipped with them. They're all we've got though, and they wont be able to hold them off forever."

Siil nodded. "You're right. Lets get down to the brig and figure out whats going on."

Ket shook her head. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

They stormed down the halls, navigating their way across piles of bodies and limbs. Dead aliens littered the floor, as did some dead Necrontyr. Siil scooped up an ion rifle as he ran past, silently thanking his fallen comrade. It wasn't as much power as the Guardians carried, but it was something- And at least he could lift it without a suit.

He skidded to a halt outside the door of the brig. It was locked shut.

Ket narrowed her eyes. "I told you he was up to something."

Val pulled the cover off of the door's control panel and reached inside. She tore a ropey, black and red cable from the wall, the frayed end fizzling and sparking. A deep thud came from inside the door, and they jerked slightly as the lock disengaged. "Not a problem."

The sentry moved forward and gripped each side of the door. Its mechanical joints whined as it forced the heavy slabs of metal apart, and it moved aside for the others to enter.

Ket slammed her bulk through the opening, swinging her weapon left and right, expecting some kind of portal, but instead, found nothing. Siil stepped in behind her, and walked up and down the rows of cells, until he came to Shaula's. The bars were bent apart and destroyed... And Shaula was nowhere in sight.

Ket came up behind him. "What did I say. I said-"

She was cut short by a piercing whistle, and a blue flash on her right gauntlet caused her to recoil her hand, dropping her weapon. Siil reflexively aimed for where it had come from, but saw nothing. Ket screamed and cradled her hand, the armor warped and glowing red-hot. She tore the gauntlet from it, revealing a seared patch of flesh. She flexed her fingers and the skin cracked. She inhaled sharply, irritated at this stall.

Siil slowly advanced down the corridor. He focused; He could hear heavy breathing, short and choppy; it was afraid, more than anything. He stopped suddenly, and whirled to his right.

"Stop! I'll do it!" Shaula screamed, the pistol leveled at Siil. He was sweating, but his hand remained steady.

Siil glared down the length of the rifle. "What the hell is going on?"

"Why don't you tell me!? All I know is some big Krork rushed in, grabbed the bars, pulled them apart, and came in after me. I shot him twice, and he ran off again. I sealed myself in, and I now know nothing except that everything I trust is trying to kill me!" he shouted.

"So you had nothing to do with this?" Siil said, slightly lowering the rifle.

Shaula glared, lowering the pistol. "What? How? I can't communicate with the warp any more. More than likely, this is an attempt on my life to keep me from telling you anything."

Siil narrowed his eyes and brought the rifle back up. "How? We'd have picked up any warp anomalies. I think you're lying."

Shaula quickly brought the pistol back up. "Then how the hell did they get on this ship!? Somehow, Hausha opened up the warp under your noses and you never knew."

Siil was shocked. "Hausha did this?"

Shaula gulped. "I think so. I can't be sure but who else would have?"

"I thought he died. He was in that hangar when the Nightbringer slaughtered everything."

Shaula shook his head. "I don't know."

Siil thought for a moment. It made sense now. Hausha could somehow disguise his energies; Thats how he managed to launch the surprise attack on them in the hangar, its how he avoided detection, and how he got the aliens onto the ship. "What did you call them?"

Shaula was confused. "Call what?"

"The aliens. Big, green, angry."

"What, krork? We've been using them for decades and you don't know what they're called?"

Siil sneered. "They aren't very talkative. We dont get to exchange names or anything like that while we blow them apart or have our limbs torn off. At any rate, how do we get these krork off this ship?"

Shaula dropped his weapon and slumped against the wall. "You don't, I'm afraid. Once theres one, there will be more. Its how they were built. To be unstoppable warriors."

Siil shook his head and leaned on his weapon, realizing how exhausted he was. "What if we kill them all?"

"You haven't noticed it yet? That when someplace gets attacked by Krork, periodic attacks continue coming long after you've retaken the area? We aren't dropping any more in. More are growing."

Siil shook his head. "Growing? I don't follow."

Shaula sighed. "Look, we don't have time to talk about the complexities of Krork biological engineering. Suffice to say, this ship must be fully cleansed biologically, or more Krork will continue to attack this ship."

Val's voice pierced the hollow chamber. "We have company!"

Ket slapped the gauntlet back onter her hand and, wincing, picked up the heavy plasma cannon. "Shut the doors!"

Val looked at the cable hanging in the middle of the hall outside, still fizzling. "Thats not going to be possible!" She ducked behind the doors as gunfire erupted, sending metal rods through the opening.

Ket swore. The sentry wheeled to the doors and gripped them, slowly sliding them shut. Rods bounced from its hull, clattering into the surrounding walls. As they slid shut, a loud thump was heard as the wall of Krork collided with the door. A gun barrel made its way between the two doors, and sharp banging erupted as it fired upward into the exposed underbelly of the machine. It squealed and rolled sideways, its legs kicking as it tried to compensate, several metallic rods penetrating from its less armored underside. It righted itself, and furiously grabbed the gun barrel, twisting it sideways. The weapon went off once more, but the barrel flew forward through the door, a sharp roar coming from the other side as the weapon exploded. The sentry slammed the doors shut and collapsed on the floor.

Val rushed forward, inspecting the machine. Its smooth, emotionless face turned to face her, its head twitching as warning sirens hummed from inside of it. Val looked around. "Ket! Help me roll it over!"

Ket shook her head, her weapon leveled at the door. "Leave that pile of scrap, we need to get a way out of here!"

"This pile of scrap may BE our only way out of here!"

The thudding on the door and the raucous cries on the other side intensified. Ket bit her lip for a moment. "Ah, dammit. I hate when they're right." She dropped the weapon and strode to Val's side. "Move over."

She gripped the carapace of the machine, and lifted. The suit strained under the immense weight, the joints whining loudly as she rolled the gigantic spiderlike machine onto its back. Its legs scrambled and kicked, trying desperately to maintain its balance, but it eventually fell over with a heavy clang. Its legs swung around in circles as it attempted to right itself, and Ket leapt out of the way as one of its arms swung in a wide circle. "Get that thing calmed down!"

Val couldn't approach it; Its gravitic thrusters were obviously breached, and it was leaking fluid. "I don't know its serial number, I can't give it orders!"

The banging on the door intensified again, and they began to shake. "I don't care! Call it something! Hurry up before this big green bastards figure out how doors work!"

Shaula ran from behind a wall and readied his pistol, pressing himself against the inside wall of one of the cells, peering towards the doors.

"You!" Ket screamed. She pointed at him. "You shot me!"

"You were going to shoot me!"

Siil grit his teeth. "We have more important things to worry about right now!"

Val stammered. "Uh... Sentry! Cease!"

It continued flailing. Val could plainly see the metallic bolts digging in deeper as the joints around it whirled; They had completely destroyed its repair functions, so it was incapable of extricating the projectiles itself, or repairing its own wounds. If they got much deeper, they'd start hitting vital internal functions.

Val stepped forward. "I order you to stop moving at once, CM1!"

Its limbs suddenly stopped, and it rocked slowly back and forth on its round carapace.

"CM1?" ket said. "That's the best you could come up with?"

"I cant just call it anything, its not a pet. Its probably the only Control Module this ship has for its sentries, seeing as we're strapped for resources, so since CM is short for control model, and there's only one..." she said as she hurriedly inspected the damage.

Ket cocked her eyebrows and focused back on the door. "Good thinking, I guess." The doors slid apart a few inches as something large banged on them, and several more gun barrels popped through. "Incoming!"

Ket dove to one side as they blared, sending red-hot metal rods into the room. Siil jammed his own rifle through the slot and squeezed the trigger, the weapon screaming as it discharged. Roars were heard from the other side, and Siil felt the weapon jerk. It pulled, but he didn't remove his hand fast enough. It went through the slot between the doors, sliding from his grasp and breaking his fingers against the edge of the door.

Siil howled in agony as he recoiled his hand, and laughter could be heard from the other side. Ket charged up to the door and grabbed one of the gun barrels, attempting to bend it as the sentry had done, but the Krork learned quick, and pulled the gun barrel back through the slot instantly.

A single shriek ran out, and a yell from outside the door was briefly audible. Shaula ducked back behind the wall as a flurry of shots rained in his direction.

Val gripped one of the metal rods embedded in the living metal frame and jerked on it. The inertial enhancers on her gloves perpetuated the movement, and the rod slid free. She tossed it aside and continued with the other two. The living metal components would heal, and the fluid leaks would then stop; However, the electronics and the gravitic stabilizer would remain damaged. The frame slowly began to remold, now that the metal bar was no longer in the way, and the internal alarms began to turn off one by one. "Alright, looks like that's taken care of. You're going to be walking from here though." She grit her teeth and began sliding it towards a wall, the shell grinding against the floor.

The door wedged open further, and more weapons slid through. The angry roars from outside were much more plainly audible, and they had a much wider shot.

Val, satisfied with her work, stepped back. "CM1, right yourself."

The sentry paused, and swiveled its massive arms to grip the wall. Its massive bulk now braced, it flipped itself over and stood up on its eight stocky legs.

The loud banging suddenly stopped, and the gun barrels retreated through the hole. Except for a few excited grunts, it was silent outside.

Val broke the silence. "Did... Did we win?"

Shaula shook his head, his breath shaky. "We need to leave. Now."

Ket uneasily shifted her weapon, still crouched behind the door. "Why?"

A slow murmur built in the crowd outside, building into an almost deafening chant. Siil's heart began to beat faster, and Ket looked around nervously.

"SILENCE!"

The walls shook with the thunderous cry, a deep, guttural, primal voice propelling the single word through the abyss. The chanting stopped suddenly.

"Why do none of you know how a door works!?" the bellowing voice growled. Deep thudding was heard as the figure approached the door.

Shaula screamed once more, furiously. "I SAID RUN!"

Val snapped out of her fear. "Find us an exit!" she snapped. The sentry scurried across the room.

Ket shook her head and ran. "I'm not in any big hurry to find out what that was!"

Siil followed her, terrified.

The sentry located a panel in the wall, and jammed its massive claws through the metal. It pried the plate off, revealing an emergency egress hatch. Val clambered through the hole, followed by Shaula and Ket. The sentry gestured for Siil to enter next, but Siil was nearly toppled by the impact of the doors being torn from their slides.

Siil turned around, and his heart stopped.

Standing in the destroyed doorway was a towering green figure, easily ten feet tall. Its rippling muscles seemed barely contained by the white ceramic armor that encased its massive bulk, and its leering, hate-filled red eyes glared straight into his soul. Its massive, gleaming tusks glinted in the dim light of the brig, and it swung its massive, glowing blade over its shoulder effortlessly. Flashbacks came rushing to Siil. Heavy rain, monowheeled vehicles, and a battered black gate... He knew this Krork.

He could tell the massive creature recognized him as well.

The krork flung its massive blade from its shoulder, it tip colliding with the ground, leaving deep, smoldering scars where it struck. the beast trudged forward, dragging the blade, which made an eerie screech as its tip melted the metal beneath it. "Well, well. Its been a long time. Running again, are we? Go ahead. But I'll find you anyway." its deep, bellowing voice growled.

Siil stared at him with horror, and tripped backwards into the shaft. He scrambled away, followed by the sentry.

The massive Krork simply stood there, glaring at the shaft. One of the smaller Krork entered and stood beside him, confused. "You gonna jus' let 'em go, boss? Why we don' jus kell 'em now?"

The larger Krork sneered at the stupidity of the smaller one. They were all like that, mindless animals. "Because, we know where they're headed. They aren't a threat to us. Not right now. So we follow them, and wherever they go, we'll find more of them."

The smaller one nodded as it dawned on him. "Oh... So den we's usin' dem ta find more. Das downright cunnin' finkin', boss."

The larger Krork was beginning to be exasperated by the conversation. "Go tell my brother to make sure the ship is taken. We have a lead to follow."

The smaller Krork laughed evilly and hurried off, shouting at the others. The larger remained, simply glaring at the hole. Something here wasn't right, something the Slann were doing, but he couldn't tell what. They were hiding something.

He snorted, and turned around. He had a job to accomplish. Suspicion and doubt would have to wait.

Siil panted as he scrambled down the tunnel. It led directly to the emergency launch bays, fortunately. He toppled from the exit, landing on the floor. His hand exploded with pain as he landed on it, and he let out a sharp cry.

Val reached through the door of one of the ovoid pods, and jerked him through. Siil blinked away the tears clouding his vision, and saw Vier had already put in the codes.

"What took you so long?" Ket bellowed irritably.

Siil panted. "Just... Meeting up with an old acquaintance." he said, eyeing the exit. The doors slid shut.

He laid his head back, and frowned. He looked through the pod, and saw that everyone had made it safely. that was good news, at least. But something was still bothering him. "Does anyone know what those Krork were chanting before we ran?"

The shuttle hissed as it disengaged, and they all rocked backward as it launched. The ascendadnt was visible through the viewports, portions of it breached and flaming.

Val watched it with despair, then turned around. She shook her head. "I don't know. It sort of sounded like... 'Mork'."


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## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 10
PURSUIT

"Who does he think he is?" the massive figure growled, slamming his fist against the panel. It cracked and warped under the immense force.

"He sed he was gonna follow 'em," the smaller Krork stammered, intimidated. "I couldn't do much ta stop 'im, it wuz a good finkin' plan."

Gork snorted. "Thinking seems to be all my brother is capable of."

"You envy him." Neri chimed, her haunting, eerie voice flowing through the chamber like ice cold water.

Gork spun around to face the cylinder, eyeing the Navigator cruelly. "I envy nothing. I am the Great Ork, master of half the battle commanders in the Krork species. I know no rival in battle."

"What about out of battle?" Neri trilled. Her deep eyes traced over Gork, and he sneered at her gaze. He opened his large, tusked mouth to speak, but was cut off by a loud, shrill whine from somewhere in his suit. He smacked his chest.

"What do you want?" he growled malevolently, infuriated by the disruption.

"I want you in the central chamber. Now." a harsh, raspy voice replied irritably. It was Hausha.

Gork growled. He didn't like taking orders, but they did have a job to do- A job his brother had failed. He didn't care why the Mad Ork had let them go, it was going to be both of their skins when Hausha got a hold of them. He knew Hausha wouldn't care about any clever plans Mork had come up with this time; He had let his prey slip away once again.

The smaller Krork continued to eye Gork, fidgeting uneasily. Gork noticed he was still there, and simply swiveled his gaze slowly in his direction.

The smaller Krork gulped and backed slowly from the room.

"I can give you directions if you like." Neri interjected.

Gork wasn't offset by many things, but the cold, haunting chill that ran up his spine every time the navigator spoke was beginning to get to him. He faced the cylinder once more.

"If you think for even a second that I trust anything you say..." Gork replied, pressing himself up against the glass, his massive frame filling almost the entire view, "You take me for a fool." His breath washed over the casing, creating a translucent fog over his mouth.

Neri was unphased. "As our agreement states, you have now taken control of the ship in absence of its formal Keeper. I am bound to assist you in any way possible."

"I'm sure." Gork growled, narrowing his eyes. He turned and trudged out of the small room, the heavy thudding of his footsteps reverberating through the chamber.

Neri had to admit, she was intrigued. Rarely, in fact, never, had any krork shown such a high level of intelligence or perception. He was cunning, a trait not found in most krork, and very keen. She filed the data away and continued monitoring the ship. It was crawling with Krork, and to her piqued interest, they were performing a very efficient casualty cleanup method- Which is to say, they were eating the dead and stripping them of any technology they could use. More data to be filed away- Krork were generally never observed doing anything other than fighting. This could prove to be useful.

Gork stomped down the hallway, completely ignoring the busy krork around him hauling weapons and armor away, or fighting over a morsel of dead Necrontyr. They milled about him, disorganized and rambunctious, but he let them continue as any attempt to organize the situation would only confuse his stupider brethren, making the situation even worse.

He stepped into the large, circular dome in the center of the ship. The massive transmitter array filled the compartment, towering upward and running through the ship's hull above. All of this technology was far beyond his understanding, or his will to care. He wanted to get this finished with so he could go back to managing the Krork without the interference of the Slann.

He plodded forward, and suddenly realized he was not alone. He spun sideways to see his brother Mork propped against one of the pillars, simply watching him as he walked. His less bulky suit, colored white with black trim and designs, slid silently across the metal as he stood up to face his brother.

Gork narrowed his eyes. He set his knees and balled his fists, his much bulkier suit, white ceramic with red outlines and insignias, clacking and pinging under the force of his tensing muscles. "I see you have failed again, Mork."

Mork sneered. "I failed nothing. I simply thought of a better plan."

"lets hope Hausha agrees with you." Gork growled.

"He does not, I assure you." a rasping voice sounded. Hausha strode through the cords and arrays, tracing his fingers across the Necrontyr technology. Hes large feet clapped down on the floor with each step, Hausha refusing eye contact with either of them. "Do you know where we are?" He queried.

Mork narrowed his eyes. "Of course."

"So then, you know this equipment is extremely delicate, but was captured without any damage. I must say, excellent work, Mork."

Mork could feel a reprimand coming. he had indeed managed to take the area without damaging anything- As difficult as that was with a hundred trigger happy Krork rushing through the mass of spires.

"However, there is one problem. We have the ship. We have the transmitter. But where is Shaula?"

There it was. "I permitted him to flee so we could follow him."

"You LET him escape!?" Hausha finally exploded, the rage in his voice blasting through the chamber. "And here I was thinking you were incompetent and simply didn't reach him quickly enough. You intentionally sabotaged the mission instead."

Mork sneered. "If I had killed them, we'd have never been able to trace where the survivors were going. The Ascendant detonated its own memory core once we arrived, erasing the destinations of its ejected pods. This ship, however, still has-"

"And when did a damn Krork become an expert on computers!? Especially Necrontyr computers, which not even we understand!" Hausha bellowed. His rage was nearly uncontrollable, his antenna quivering as his face twitched in spastic fury.

"We've attacked these vessels before. We know how to hunt. Be predators. That's what we are born knowing. We know when a ship blows up its memory core, and how to get Navigators to reveal its hard data." Mork growled, his irritation reaching critical levels. "Perhaps these are talents the Slann should learn themselves."

Gork raised one eyebrow. His brother showed a surprising amount of spine.

Hausha flinched at Mork's insolence. "Why you... Listen to me, and listen well. I brought you onto this ship to kill one solitary individual consigned to a cell. You successfully captured the ship and assaulted the Ascendant, but the enemy has a vital information source that needs to die. I know I explained this already, but clearly this has not sunk in. I don't care about any Necrontyr survivors. Those insects can fall on some random planet and live in the dirt with the rest of the worms until their pathetic species is wiped out or brought under our reign- Either way, I don't give a damn. What I care about is them gathering some useful bit of information from the traitor and finding some way to make things difficult for us. Now, go find him. Go kill him."

Mork narrowed his eyes. "We already have teams following the shuttles."

"Your soldiers? I don't think so. You've already proven incompetent once. I'll be sending a regiment of Slann to oversee them. You will take all orders from Slann commanders. You will also be going. You made this mess. You'll both clean it up. Now get out of my sight, I have more important things to deal with." Hausha said, brushing them off. He turned and disappeared into the forest of equipment.

Gork watched him leave. "Another job well done. I keep telling you, brother. Don't think. It only makes them angry. Just do your job so we can be left alone."

Mork shook his head. "I don't tolerate jobs being done poorly, even if they are done to orders. There's always a better way." He narrowed his eyes. "I think the Slann are hiding something."

Gork rolled his eyes. "Again with this. There is no conspiracy. They created us to seed the galaxy with fresh, survivable life. Come off it, and stop acting like a crazy fool. You're going to get us both put to death." Gork stormed away, aggravated.

Mork was unconvinced. He looked at where Hausha had left. "I know you're hiding something. I don't know what. I don't know why. But the truth always reveals itself."

He turned and stomped back into the confines of the ship.


Siil opened his eyes once more, and found himself propped against the wall of the pod. He blinked, trying to see clearly in the near-pitch-blackness of the interior, which was illuminated only by a few small dots of light along the ceiling and Val's suit-mounted maintenance light. He cleared the sleep from his vision, and saw Val on her back, underneath the sentry, flashing lights and the sound of electric tools punctuating the darkness and silence. Ket was asleep sitting up, her eyes closed as her head sat straight up, her usual dissatisfied scowl covering her face. Shaula was sleeping as well, rolled over onto one side on the unoccupied bench he rested on. He peered into the small pilot's cabin and saw that the pod was on autopilot to a beacon; Where at, he wasn't sure. Vier was out cold, his headset still hooked on. He realized he and Val were the only ones awake.

He quietly slid down to the floor, and grabbed her by the boot. "Val."

She jumped, slamming her head into the underside of the sentry. It trilled and readjusted itself.

Ket stirred slightly, let out a groan, and fell back into her awkward slumber.

Val lifted her head slightly to see him, scowling. "What are you doing?" she whispered.

"I could ask you the same thing," he responded. "This can't wait?"

Val sighed and dropped her arms to her sides. She clambered out from under the machine to come face to face with Siil. "Do you not remember what just happened? We lost the Ascendant and the Necropolis in one shot. The enemy now has our only relay. Even if we make it back to the council, we can't communicate with the C'tan. Forgive me for trying to do something useful to take my mind off of all this."

Siil frowned. "Why not just build another?"

Val shook her head, frustrated. "The amount of power needed to broadcast and receive on the wavelength and dimensional flux that the C'tan operate in is immense and complicated. We don't have another Cairn ready to accept it- And even if we did, we certainly don't have the resources or time to build another array."

"So the Necropolis was our only shot?"

Val nodded. Her anger turned to despair once more, and she fell backward against the machine. She dropped her tools at her side, extricated her hands from her gloves, and cradled her temples. "Every time we're so close to victory, we get thrown back another step. This is hopeless." She curled her knees into a ball and sobbed silently.

Siil frowned; Before when he'd seen her like this, it was infuriating. Now, he understood. This was her life's work, and the fate of the entire Necrontyr race rested on her success or failure. Though she'd never admit it, she was tired.

He gripped her by one wrist. "Look. We haven't lost yet. They have the ship, but they don't have the resources or the know-how to summon a C'tan themselves."

She sighed. "Its only a matter of time. With as much as they've been sniffing out our smugglers and convoys, they'll eventually figure it out and find an adequate amount of unimprinted Living Metal."

he shook his head. "The Slann-"

"The what?"

Siil realized it was a new term. "Thats what the Krork know the Old Ones as. the Slann."

Val nodded. "Its likely they use different monikers to each species to try to impress them." She snorted. "An effective technique, considering their agenda."

Siil ignored her rambling. "The Slann don't know the first thing about operating that array. We'll figure something out."

Val laughed. "Siil, you are definitely one of the stupidest Necrontyr I've ever met. Theres no way we'll ever see the Necropolis again. All we can do now is hope that for once, fortune smiles at us and we find a way to get home before its too late."

Siil took a deep breath and looked outside. The dark, starry void stretched out before him. Millions of stars and planets spun through the void before him, a small glimpse into all that was out there. "Its never too late."

Val sighed, crestfallen. She reached out and gingerly stroked the side of Siil's face with her palm. "I hope you're right."

He grabbed her hand. "When am I not?"

She smirked slightly, amused. She slowly pulled her hand back and fell back against the edge of the bench. "So where are we going?"

Siil shook his head. "I don't know. I didn't recognize the coordinates. Looks like it can't be far though."

Val nodded. "Well, I should probably finish up then. I'm almost done fixing these gravitic boosters." She rolled over and slid beneath the waiting sentry once more, grabbing her small tool pouch and resuming her work. her engineering light clicked on once more, the ghastly green glow casting a luminescent aura over the floor of the shuttle.

He leaned back against the back of the pod and simply watched her work until sleep overtook him once more.


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## LostIsland

I'm loving the story so far man, keep up the good work!


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## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 11
SECRETS

Siil was awakened by a sudden jerk. Bright light spilled in through the windows of the shuttle, nearly blinding him, and he shielded his eyes. "Gaah! Shut the windows!" he cried.

Vier removed his headset and was suddenly jarred by the bright light as well. "Dammit," he swore, fumbling for the environmental controls. Thick black shutters descended over the windows in the cockpit and the passenger bay, and it was dark inside the capsule once more.

Ket blinked the blindness from her eyes, and Shaula stared wistfully at the windows. He had awoken to bright, beautiful light, and now he sat once more in darkness. He had almost forgotten what daylight looked like, considering the new company he kept. He gazed around at the handful of Necrontyr he shared the pod with and sighed. He would simply have to get used to it.

"Where are we?" Siil asked, still rubbing his eyes. The sudden burst of light had nearly given him a migraine.

Vier turned around and looked back at him. "We're at the rally point. Not many made it off the station, but what did landed here."

A loud growling sound pierced the conversation, and Siil realized Val was still under the Sentry, slumbering peacefully. She smacked her lips and unleashed another snore, and Siil grabbed her by the boot.

"Wake up," he said, exasperated, as he shook her by the leg. She opened her eyes, groaned, and looked back at him. She sighed and dropped her head again with a heavy thunk against the rubberized compartment floor.

She slowly clambered out from beneath the machine, and it chirped at her as she gripped it by the face to pull herself up. Her hair was tousled and scraggly, halfway pulled out of its tidy and organized bun. She had obviously gotten very little sleep, and it showed. "Are we there?" she queried, followed by a hearty yawn.

"Where exactly is 'here', Vier?" Ket asked, falling against the wall of the pod with a loud thump. "You haven't given us any details."

"We're on the only planet not controlled by the Old Ones-" He looked at Shaula. "Or Slann, as it were. We're on a little rock called Beta."

"A mining colony?" Ket snapped.

Shaula shook his head. "Beta is just a giant mineral ball floating through space. I thought the Necrontyr stripped it decades ago."

"We did." Ket responded dryly. "So now there's no food or water on the surface, and its pretty much hollowed out."

"And a perfect defensive position," Vier replied, setting his headset on the control panel. "The Krork will have a hard time rooting us out, or even finding us here."

Siil stood up. "So now what? We wait for night?"

Vier shook his head. "Not exactly. We're not far from the refugee camp. We need to set up there, which means going outside."

"What?" Ket cried. "You saw what it was like out there. We'll be totally blind in minutes."

"These pods are equipped with all the necessary tools to survive in the day," Vier responded. "Besides, its not that far." He reached under the panel and retrieved a metal box. He cracked it open to reveal rows of goggles with blackened lenses. "Put these on, and we'll get on our way."

"Why don't we just fly over there?" Siil asked, irritated.

"Because its underground." Vier replied. "Why all these questions? Just trust me." With that, he tossed the goggles backward and shut the craft down.

Ket eyed the devices irritably. They wouldn't be protected from skin burns. Lets hope it was as close as Vier said, she thought as she slipped them over her head. The elastic band pinched and pulled her hair, but she ignored the pain, determined to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible.

Vier swiveled around, stepped around the sentry, and accessed the hatch. "Everyone ready?" he called.

They all nodded. Val braced herself for another excursion planetside; This was becoming tiresome.

Vier pressed a button, and the rear of the craft slid open. Bright light spilled through, but they remained able to see. The occupants of the small craft filed out one by one, Shaula being the last.

Shaula inhaled deeply, finally in fresh air and daylight. It was rejuvenating, and he basked in it. He felt his spirits perk up a bit, and looked at his companions.

They were not so enthralled. They hunched over, angrily trudging through the heat. Shaula surveyed they dry, cracked landscape; Large, mountainous crags loomed in the distance, steppes and peaks ascending from the tan and yellow landscape miles away, standard fare for a desert world. The firm, arid ground was cracked and brittle under his feet. He became so enthralled in the scenery he was nearly left behind. It was only when the large sentry hovered from the back of the pod and squealed its distress at him that he snapped out of it. He whipped around and glared at the large machine, which hovered scant feet from him, eyeing him in a way that could have been construed as frustrated if the machine had been capable of displaying emotion.

"I'm going, I'm going," he snapped, moving forward, his large feet shuffling against the dry dirt. The heat was the only thing that bothered him, but he weathered it for the sake of the beautiful day he was about to have stripped from him once again.

He finally caught up with the others, nearly having to run to keep up with the great strides of their long legs. The four Necrontyr were clearly in no mood for conversation. Shaula looked up ahead to a large bluff that rose from the flat clay landscape, a hole neatly drilled into its base. That must be where they were headed.

Shaula said one final goodbye to the daylight as they stepped through the entrance. It got darker as they proceeded, and the cavern became illuminated only by sparsely placed luminous green rods hastily stabbed into the walls of the mine shaft. The four Necrontyr breathed a sight of relief and pulled the goggles from their faces.

Siil sighed, and turned to face val. His mouth opened to speak, but instead his eyes widened with horror. "Your face!"

Val's face was covered in violet scars, a hyper-reaction to the sunlight. She looked at him, and simply collapsed.

Ket caught her and rolled her over. She shook her head. "These are some pretty bad burns. I'm surprised she made it as far as she did being this photosensitive."

"I don't think she's ever even seen daylight before this," Vier said, perplexed. "Dehydrated too, it seems."

The sentry chirped, a few short, quick snaps, and pushed everyone aside as it answered its call. It cradled her in its eight legs like a spider holding its prey, and miniature mechanical arms descended from its underbelly, dabbing her face with a thick, viscous gel. It continued carrying her as it gingerly treated her wounds.

"I'm sure the refugee camp has plenty of wounded already. We're just fortunate to have our own medical staff." Vier said as he watched the immense machine. "We'd best be off; She'll need some proper rest, as I'm sure we all do."

With that, he continued walking, the deep veridian of the glowing rods casting a ghostly glow across the walls of the caverns like an ethereal catacomb. Siil thought it appropriate; It was entirely possible they would all die here.

The large white skiff circled over the hastily constructed base; Krork milled about carrying building supplies while Slann taskmasters watched them work. Mork eyed them with disgust. Gork sneered at them, a guttural growl unintentionally escaping his lips as he disdainfully watched the Slann stand around.

"They know we'd get this base up and running faster if they actually did some work," Mork spat as he observed them from the window of the tall command post.

Gork slammed a heavy piece of equipment down on the large polished desk. "They don't care how fast it gets done. They want us to do it. Now stop standing around yourself." he he growled.

Mork turned his gaze to his brother. The shoddy wooden planks of the command post were sealed together with a foul smelling glue that was making his nostrils sting, while the Slann quarters were tidy white domes that stuck out in the more basic Krork carpentry. He hardly felt obligated to make their jobs easier.

Gork looked at him. "None of the Krork want to be here. We wouldn't be if it weren't for you and your brilliance. But we are, so lets get this done with." Gork said, slamming more heavy objects down on the table.

A short, squat Slann wobbled into the room, stirred by the commotion. "Whats all that banging?" he demanded, glaring at them. "You're being gentle with that equipment, aren't you?"

Gork stood up, sneering at the creature. He was easily close to three times its height, and much more massive. "I'll handle my equipment as I see fit."

The Slann didn't budge. "You don't scare me you big ugly brute. Try something and the council will have both your heads. Keep it down in here, I have to monitor these workers. If I leave them alone, they'll break something. They probably already have in the few seconds I've been in here." With that, the stout, frog-like creature turned around and left the way he came, followed by a few sharp yells and the disdainful grunts of Krork workers.

"We're animals to them," Mork said, eyeing his brother. He waited to see what kind of response he would receive.

Gork shook his head. "It doesn't matter either way. They'll be out of our lives soon enough," he said, turning back around to unpack another crate.

Mork turned his gaze out to the window again, eyeing the Slann. They had agreed to work for the Slann, having been given existence by them, but it had been decades and the Slann we're still barking orders at them. Mork doubted they'd ever really go away, but there wasn't much he could do about it aside from hope they'd hold up their end of the bargain eventually.

In the mean time, there was one more task at hand; Track the survivors. That was a job given specifically to Gork and Mork, since it had been Mork's idea in the first place. "Are we ready to go yet?" Mork asked, casting a sidelong glance at Gork.

Gork set the final piece of heavy equipment onto the desk. "We'd have been ready hours ago had you helped carry any of this," he said irritably.

"Stop whining," Mork replied, heading for the door. He was suddenly jarred by a heavy weight, and pinned to the wall.

Gork gripped him by the chest plate, sneering at him. "Whining? Its your fault I'm here. Had our places been switched I'd have killed those Necrontyr where they stood, and I'd have pummeled that Slann into a pile of blue goo myself, not let them get away and given the Slann another opportunity to use us."

Mork grit his teeth and shoved back. Gork stumbled backwards, but caught his balance. "Why? Think about it. Why is this one Slann so important?"

"He could know battle plans, deployments, force organization, a whole slew of information. He was, after all, a captain."

"Or," Mork said, taking a few heavy steps toward his brother, raising one finger to point at him, "He could know whats really going on."

Gork narrowed his eyes. "This again!" Gork took another step forward and extended one massive arm to grip Mork about the collar. He pulled him closer, gritting his teeth. "There is nothing going on. The Slann are devious and every one of them is a nuisance. That is the extent of it." he pushed Mork back, letting him go.

Mork wasn't sure if that's what Gork really believed, or just what he wanted to believe; Either way, he couldn't convince him. Honestly, he couldn't convince himself. Aside from the obvious, which was that the Slann were cheating their contract every so often, nothing was really happening. But he could feel it, and it was offsetting.

"Lets do what we came to do, and get the Slann off our backs." Gork said, retrieving his weapon from the corner- A long, red, octagonal rod half his height and as big around as his wrist, covered with metal studs that glinted with white energy. A single blow from it had shattered enemy doors and even blown Necrontyr warriors apart with its concussive blasts. It was far less subtle than Mork's own leaf-shaped blade, but it did the job.

Mork followed him to the waiting transport. The rear hatch opened, revealing enough room for the both of them. In the front, a Krork with black-trimmed armor drove- One of Mork's boys. In the seat next to him, however, was a Slann who eyed the two nonchalantly and turned around. The hatch shut over the two massive Krork, the angular metal plates coming down squarely around their massive bulk, leaving them hardly any room to move- After all, the vehicle was designed to transport five or so smaller Krork, not two gigantic ones.

The six wheels of the vehicle dug into the dry dirt, and the vehicle sped through the camp, Slann overseers hurriedly ushering confused and disgruntled Krork workers out of the massive vehicle's way as it ground its way toward the gate.

The gates at the front of the large fortress swung upen at the command of a large Krork who sat perched atop a tower. Two krork, still assembling the gate when the order was called, were knocked off by the sudden motion. They collided heavily with the ground, and grunted as they hurried out of the way of the large, boat-shaped white vehicle. Its broad wheels churned the ground beneath it as it plowed across the wasteland.

The Slann in the front seat called back to them. "Where was this last pod that came down?"

Gork pointed.

The slann was not amused. "And what direction is that?"

The driver turned around and saw where Gork was pointing. "I got dis, boss. Das ova by da bluff in da middle of da Ded Waste, is lookin. Das all dats ova dere."

The slann, immensely irritated that a Krork had picked up on that detail before him, turned around and sat with his arms across his chest, huffing.

Gork dropped his finger and leaned back. The vehicle shook as it plowed over the rocky terrain, the dried mud and clay giving way beneath the large vehicle.

"The sun is going down," Mork pointed out.

Gork peered out the window in front of him. "They'll be awake soon."

Mork turned to the driver. "Get a move on."

The krork laughed evilly and the vehicle noticably accellerated. The Slann hung onto the edge of his seat and braced himself against the door, the speed of the vehicle reaching a blistering pace. "Slow down! You're going to get us all killed! Slow down I said!"

The krork ignored him, and the vehicle finally topped off, the engine screaming as the desert raced past. The flat, angular vehicle rolled across the wastes effortlessly, finally reaching the bluffs that dotted the enormous expanse of wasteland. Plainly visible was a large cylindrical craft, black and silver, abandoned in the middle of the arid badlands.

"Take us to that pod," Gork said, pointing.

"Das a big OK, boss," the krork said, spinning the steering mechanism and nearly throwing the Slann across the vehicle. It skidded to a halt a few hundred meters from the pod, and the Slann hurriedly yanked the doorhandle, threw the door backward, and hurled himself from the vehicle.

The rear door opened once again, and Gork and Mork climbed out, the rear end of the vehicle raising noticably without the strain of their weight. The smaller Krork also dropped from the driver's cab, interestedly following the two Krork rulers.

Gork slowly stuck his head into the empty pod, while Mork inspected a patch of ground. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scents of his prey- He could tell the scents apart clearly. One male Necrontyr, smelled like a warrior. A female as well, similar smell. He breathed in through his nostrils once more. Another male and another female, as well as the thick, oily smell of machine lubricants and coolants, and... a Slann. Their quarry had finally arrived.

Mork ran his hand over the rough patch of crushed dirt. The dry ground didn't give well to footprints, but he could tell something heavy had made these tracks, most likely a powered suit of armor. That meant that their prey was well armed. The tracks led off towards the bluffs not far from where they were standing.

Mork stood up, and looked in Gorks direction. Gork returned his gaze, and extricated his upper body from the hole in the back of the pod. The smaller krork hopped up and down slightly, anxious to hear what exciting new thing the bosses had found, while the Slann stood, arms folded, agitated that they were taking so long.

"Four necrontyr, some kind of machine, and a Slann." was Gork's only response to his brother.

"Heavily armed and armored, and headed in that direction." Mork replied, pointing to the bluffs.

Gork looked in that direction, and grunted. "Lets not keep them waiting."

"We'll go back and make preparations to find their camp. We'll smoke these rats out of their holes."

Gork grinned evilly, and the smaller krork pumped his arms in excitement. They were finally going to see some action. He sprinted back to the vehicle as fast as his stubby legs would carry him and clambered in.

"Stop right there," the Slann said, stepping between them and the vehicle. "I don't know where you think you're going. We haven't confirmed a thing. Those caves need to be explored to find out where they are."

"Feel free to explore them then," Gork said. "We already know."

The two stepped around him and climbed into the back of the transport, the suspension system creaking as the two heavy Krork boarded. The Slann threw his hands up into the air. "Why do I even bother?" he asked himself, and slowly trudged back toward the vehicle.


The large machine set Val down on the rolled up white sheets, makeshift bedding for the multitude of wounded that had made it to the caves.

"We could use your sentry," the elderly Necrontyr said. "We don't have much in the way of medical personnel. Most of them were still on the Ascendant tending to the wounded there when we left, and we haven't see them since." His brows arched, his mottled yellow skin wrinkling. He stroked his long white beard with one hand.

Vier nodded. This was the oldest and most experienced Necrontyr here, making him the temporary leader. "We understand. We only ask that we be allowed to look after our own wounded individual before turning it over to your service." he said to the elderly Afflicted.

He nodded. "Of course. Just turn it loose when it is finished. I'm sure it will find its way. There are plenty of wounded, it would be impossible not to stumble on them." With that, he turned and waded through the masses of makeshift shelters.

Ket shook her head. "I wonder if any of Crimson made it off the station?"

"Crimson brigade is full of tough bastards, from what I remember. Some of them had to have made it." Siil said, nodding. "Those who didn't, well, they took plenty of Krork with them."

Ket sighed, the first time Siil had seen her show any sort of emotion in a long time. "I suppose thats how it is."

Vier looked over a holopad. "Alright, we're registered as group 312. We're actually some of the last to arrive." He frowned. "And we have to do a patrol. That can't be right..." He flipped through a few more tabs, looking over data being sent out by a server set up somewhere inside the large chamber that once held a mineral drilling platform; Part of its colossal skeleton still remained, lights and shelters erected on it, with a command module perched atop it for a good view of the colony.

"Vier, they have a computer system, command module, and all manner of other equipment. Do they have an armory?" Siil asked.

Vier nodded. "They should. The Aschendant was built to eject all its vital bays just in case it ever did get overwhelmed."

"Ket, how well equipped is your armory?"

Ket nodded. "You want a suit and a rifle. Alright, I can get that for you. We don't have any of that new magnetic weaponry, if thats what you're after, but I can get you something."

"Hurry it up, theres a patrol scheduled in an hour, and both of you are on it." Vier said, glaring at the holopad.

Ket ignored him. "Follow."

She waded through the mass of shelters and power cables, navigating by the hastily erected green lights that stood suspended by slender shafts over the camp like eerie torches. Around them, Necrontyr sat, watching them as they passed, some simply staring, some sobbing uncontrollably- All of them desperate, confused, afraid, and most of all, sad.

Ket avoided their gazes. She glared, angry at herself for getting choked up. "Most of these Necrontyr are now homeless. Almost everyone here lived on that station, aside from a few star pilots who probably just bugged out once the assault began." She stopped, and swallowed the lump in her throat. "The Ascendant was built to withstand any attack. Its entire body was brimming with defensive weapons. The Slann could have thrown their entire fleet at it and not been able to so much as scratch its surface." She shook her head. "But we died from the inside. A single Slann did all this." She gestured around. "This probably isn't even one percent of the population of that station. My station. It was my job to protect it." She sighed. "And I failed."

Siil listened silently to her, the only sounds around him being the quiet mechanical thrumming of her suit and the small noises of the Necrontyr that silently watched them pass. Ket was silent for the rest of the trip.


"Tell me."

Hausha tapped on the glass with the end of his finger as though he were trying to jab it straight through the reinforced surface.

"I'm afraid that knowledge is beyond me. The array is not a standard part of me, or even hooked into my control net, so I am unable to provide you with any technical or operation data regarding the array," Neri lied.

Hausha grit his teeth. "Thats a lie, and I know it. Tell me what I want to know, or... or..." he stammered, trying desperately to think of some sort of incentive.

Neri silently waited, staring calmly at him, confident his impotent rage would fizzle out.

He looked back at her. "I'll do something unspeakable! I'll rip this ship apart!"

"I'm not sure that would be wise, since the hull is the array's antenna."

He shook his finger at her. "Ah ha! So you do know technical data regarding the array!"

"I'm afraid that, aside from the fact that my hull is used to broadcast its signal and that it directly accesses my power source, I know nothing regarding how the system works." she replied coolly. She fully intended to stall him as long as possible, if for no reason other than to infuriate him to the point where he simply went away.

"I know you know how this works. I know you monitor everything on this ship, and that you've seen them use it." Hausha spat.

"Watching an individual perform an act does not generally give you the ability to do so yourself." She responded.

His face writhed in anger. He knew these Navigators couldn't be trusted, and he knew they'd lie until you really pushed them. "I didn't want to have to do this. BUt you leave me no choice."

Neri began picking up readings of warp energy, which quickly squelched. She frowned. "What are you doing?"

Hausha shook his head, grinning. "That would be telling." He stepped backward and left the room.

She watched him go, and for the first time in a very long while, she was worried. She realized he could hide energy signatures now, and she didn't like being unsure of what was going on inside her.

Minutes passed, and suddenly, she began to feel very strange. The air inside the chamber shifted and wavered, and a small, black speck appeared in front of her. Her eyes widened with horror; She knew what he was trying to do now. He was going to bypass the navigator self-terminate by entering the chamber without breaking the barrier.

She immediattely locked down the bay, and activated the device in the bowels of the ship that blocked warp communication. It hadn't been used since their first encounter with Shaula to keep it secret, but there was now no alternative than to use the Obelisk.

The black speck vanished and the air resumed its previous, unadulterated state. Neri breathed a sight of relief; As long as they didn't find the Obelisk, she could snap it on whenever she needed to to protect herself from another attack of this sort. She composed herself once again, and waited for the inevitable return of an enraged Hausha.

Hausha did, in fact, return, but he was not enraged. He laughed, and narrowed his eyes. "I see. You do have a few tricks up your sleeve. Tell me, where is this device you use to block the Warp? I recall Shaula mentioning something of the sort but I disregarded it. Now I can see you are far more clever than I had given you credit for."

Neri remained emotionless. "Flattery will get you nowhere, general. The location of the device is unknown; It is simply in my control net, so I may turn it on and off."

Hausha shook his head. "Don't you know that I can tell when you're lying?" He smirked. "You won this one. But make no mistake. We will find this device, and we will destroy it." His face turned serious, and he drew up to the glass. "And then you will tell me what I want to know."

He turned and slowly left the bay, the doors sliding shut and locking behind him. The only light in the room was made by Neri's cylinder, illuminated blue at the floor level. She was genuinely worried; The device was well hidden, but eventually, it would be found and disconnected. When that happened, her last line of defense would be gone. She could only hope that someone was able to find her before then.


----------



## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 12
CAPTURE

"How's your hand?" Ket asked. She continued watching the faint remnants of the burgundy sunset that slowly retreated over the cliffs. She shifted against the large, rocky outcropping that jutted from the dunes, putting her hands behind her head as she watched the magenta horizon creep into a deep indigo.

Siil sat facing the other way, looking towards their base. He looked down and flexed his fingers, a dull, throbbing pain lingering from his injury. "Looks good." He set his hand back down on the stone surface and slowly kicked his legs, listening the the metallic clang of his armored suit against the rocks. It was a wonderful sound; He was glad to have his suit back. He hadn't had one since it got destroyed back on the Necropolis, at the entire start of the ordeal, but now he felt safe again. Unfortunately, the suit didn't protect him from the awkwardness of being in the middle of a desert alone with his long-ago lover.


Ket glanced at him out of the right corner of her eye, watching him sit on the rocks. He hadn't even looked at her. "Good. Can't have you out here if you can't even fight."

He glared, and looked at her. "Fighting is what I do." He couldn't help but let his gaze linger an extra moment on her, her long, rigid form draped across the rocks, the deep pink of the waning sunset casting its glow across her face. He traced the firm lines of her cheeks, her ice blue eyes, her fire red hair, and remembered what she looked like minus the suit.

He quickly jerked his gaze away, and continued looking back toward the bluffs over the arid expanse of badlands. He hefted a fist-sized chunk of rock and hurled it, his mouth sour.

"Are the memories really that stirring?" she asked, feeling a mixture of rejection and anger, but not giving up. She turned toward him, scrutinizing his reaction. There wasn't one. She brought her hands forward to rest on the rocks at her sides and sighed. "Seriously. I'd make a joke about how boring it is out here, but you don't even want to talk to me. We've been out here for an hour and you haven't even said two sentences in a row to me. Am I really that upsetting to you?"

He continued staring out at the empty expanse, and kicked his legs once more.

She scowled at him. "Be that way then. Jerk." She turned to watch the sunset once more, the deep magenta now nearly faded to a lush purple.

He glared, and turned to face her. "You know I can't."

"Can't what?" She asked irritably, not taking her focus from the retreating sun.

He glared at her.

She whipped her head to look at him, nearly sneering. "What, because of the damn techie, right?"

He stared at her, his own insides churning. "Look, what we had, it was fun. A lot of fun." he sighed, and turned away again. "But lets face it, that's all it was. We have other lives now."

She watched his face, narrowing her eyes and examining his response. "So who says the fun has to stop?"

He shook his head, rolling his eyes. She hadn't changed a bit- She saw something she wanted, and she wasn't going to let it get away. "Stop it."

"I know she can't do what I can. You still remember."

Siil opened his mouth to respond, but wasn't nearly sure how to. Here he was, alone on the rocks with his ex-lover, and he wasn't even sure why he was turning her down.

She could feel the awkwardness of the situation, and dropped her attempt at seduction, at least for the moment. "You say what we had was fun, yes?" she asked, dropping back onto the rocks, her legs now dangling as she stared upward at the starry sky. She folded her hands over her stomach.

He looked sideways at her, not sure how to answer.

She turned to face him, a dry look on her face. "Just answer me."

He cocked one eyebrow. "Yes."

She looked back up at the sky. "And this thing with you and Val. That's... Something else then?"

He pondered the question. He breathed in deeply and exhaled as he thought about it. He leaned back, looking up at the sky. "I don't know."

Ket nodded, sighing. "I suppose there are plenty of other eligible males. We may be stuck here a long time, after all."

He shook his head. A better friend and battle partner he'd never find, even if she was a bit single minded. Her question bothered him though; What was what he and Val had? Aside from a single spontaneous outburst on the Dirge and a tender moment on the escape pod, they hadn't even said a great deal to each other.

They sat in silence for what felt like forever, the landscape painted an amaranth violet by the fading light, eventually to a deep indigo, and near-black as the stars revealed themselves in the cloudless sky. Siil and Ket simply stared up at them, waiting for their shift to change.

No replacements came, however.

Ket checked the time again, and frowned. "The replacement guards are late. They probably fell asleep. Come on, lets go get them," she said, smacking Siil in the chest and nearly toppling him from the rock.

He caught his balance and glared at her as she clambered from the large formation, landing on the dry, cracked ground with a heavy thunk. 

She looked back up at him. "Are you coming or what?" she asked, waiting.

He turned and slid down the rocks, dropping next to her. "Who's going to stand watch?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. But I can't go back there alone. Its scary out here in the wilderness, and you wouldn't send me back all by my lonesome would you?" she asked, sticking out her lower lip and giving him her best sad face.

He stared at her, unamused. "I'm sure nothing is going to happen in the ten minutes you're gone."

She stopped. "Good. Then you won't mind coming along." she said dryly.

He opened his mouth, but she had tripped him up. He glared at her, and she glared right back.

"Fine, lets go," he said irritably.

"That's better." She turned and trudged off, back across the expanse of arid desert.

He shook his head and followed her.

The desert was completely silent- No native wildlife, not even any wind. But Siil could still feel something was amiss. He could hear a thick humming, a slight vibration in the ground. "Do you feel that?"

Ket shook her head. "Its probably just the camp setting up more equipment. I can't imagine what else it could be."

"Unless we've been found."

"By who? One of the guard patrols would have spotted anyone trying to get in, much less a huge army of Krork or Slann."

Siil frowned. "What if there's an entrance to the caves we don't know about?"

Ket looked back at him, now slightly worried. "But we looked through the caves."

Siil shook his head. "There are a lot of mining shafts. There's no way we checked every one."

Ket turned around again, her pace noticeably quickening. She wasn't losing what little was left.

They built into a run, approaching the entrance slowly. Ket unslung her plasma cannon, and Siil charged his ion rifle. They stepped through the entrance of the cave, where the thumping was plainly audible.

"Thats footsteps. Lots of footsteps." Siil whispered.

Ket glared, her eyes darting back and forth through the dimly lit cavern.

They proceeded no more than a hundred meters, when they heard, "Drop 'em."

Siil cursed at himself, and turned around, weapon still in hand. A large Krork with thick black goggles stood looking at them. His armor was painted a deep black with a grey moon painted crudely on the pauldron.

"How the hell did a Krork sneak up on us?" Ket whispered almost indignantly.

The Krork took a puff of a long brown strip of wrapped paper that hung from his mouth. The burning tip glowed an angry red, and he pulled it from his mouth with a thumb and forefinger, releasing a thick cloud of bluish gray smoke from his nostrils. He flicked the odd device, ashes falling from the burning tip. "We's Mork's speshul guardz. Da Nightboyz. We'z ded sneaky an' cunnin'." He leveled a huge bolt cannon at them, putting the brown paper back in his mouth. "An' we ded killy too, if we haz ta be. Now, I sed drop 'em once already. Yous lucky boss wants you lot alive, er you bofe would be nuffin but pincushions."

Ket stood fast. "You're one solitary Krork. I could fry you where you stand and keep going."

The krork let out an evil guffaw. "I coulda swored I sed 'we'."

The sound of a dozen more bolt rifles cocking was plainly audible from the crevices in the rocks.



Mork eyed the camp carefully. He had observed where all the guard posts were and had chosen an entrance that was not suitably watched. He and half a thousand of his boys had, somehow, managed to surround the camp silently and were now crouched in the rocks. Gork and half a thousand of his Boys waiting in the caves behind them, ready to move in when Mork gave the signal. They wove in as shock troops, screaming and shooting, while his boys picked off the stragglers trying to flee. It was a great plan, except for one thing- A thousand Krork were unmanageable, and he had quarry he wanted alive. To hell with what his brother said, to hell with what the Slann said. He was getting to the bottom of this.

One of his nobles sat crouched next to him, a larger, surlier Krork than his other boys. He was cunning, and took after his general's art of war quite well. His eyes flitted over the camp, eyeing his prey. "So yous wants us to stay out da way when all dis gets killy den?"

Mork nodded. "I want them alive, but I don't trust my brother's boys... or my own."

The noble laughed quietly. "Heh, me neiva. I'll make sure ta clear da way for ya boss, you jus get goin where you is goin."

Mork had deliberately moved into position to provide the fastest route to his quarry- He only saw the old man and the thin woman, however. He knew the Slann would be nearby, afraid to stray from those he felt comfortable around. He squinted his eyes to try to find him- He was likely inside their makeshift shelter, too afraid to show himself with a thousand angry Necrontyr filling the place. He snorted at the thought. He had also spotted that large spiderlike machine floating around. He intended to take that too. he looked downward at his belt at the custom weapon he had created from spare bits of Slann weaponry. He was proud of his own ingenuity, and some of his own boys had helped, those that possessed the same insight he was gifted with. He had observed how the Slann engine coolants worked- Instead of using a liquid that simply reduced the temperature of the engines, they used a viscous blue gel that actually absorbed the excess electrical energy, drawing all unneeded power away from the coils and preventing an overheat. He wasn't sure how the intricate technology worked, but he figured he could use the gel as a sort of energy drain to take the machine hostage without it tearing a dozen of his boys in half before he could subdue it. He had fashioned a metal tube loaded with a rubber ball filled with the fluid- It would launch the ball, which would breach and spray the liquid over the hull of the machine, draining its power and making it movable.

He hoped.

He looked for his opening, watching for the machine to cross his path. behind him a large hovering palette, normally used to transport crates, stood concealed by brown blankets. His noble would rush behind him as he charged, help him load it onto the palette, and then stash it to wait for his return with the Necrontyr. Then they would round up the surviving Necrontyr and take them all back as prisoners, if there were any left.

This, of course, is what bothered Mork. If there were any left.

The silver hull of the machine slid into view, and Mork spotted it instantly. It appraised the Necrontyr laying about, and it drew near him... Near his quarry. Their shelter was a scant hundred meters away from where he was, on the edge of their encampment. Almost...

Suddenly, a roar broke the silence, and a red-clad Krork sprinted into view, screaming as he blindly charged at the Necrontyr by himself. He could see some of his boys start to jump, but they contained themselves, either out of discipline or fear of what Mork would do to them.

An alarm blared, and the Krork burst into flames as a hundred blue flashes appeared over him, cooking him instantly. Mork frowned; he hadn't spotted any sort of defenses anywhere, but they clearly were present. He was even more agitated that they had lost the element of surprise- One of Gork's boys had broken the line in his anticipation and charged, and now the entire base was alerted. The deafening siren wailed over the camp, waking the sleeping Necrontyr. Some of them ran to the center, presumably for shelter or armaments. Mork sneered, angry at this potential wrench in the gears.

"ATTACK!" he bellowed, and the roars of a thousand bloodthirsty Krork issued forth. Sure enough, true to form, his own Boys forgot their purpose and hurled themselves from the rocks and crevices into the camp. Mork flung himself forward, snatching up his makeshift weapon.

The sentry bellowed its own siren, and crouched over the female Necrontyr, still unconscious. It snapped its claws defensively, eyeing Mork with its smooth metallic features. Mork leveled the weapon and fired.

The machine suddenly ducked, and for some inexplicable reason, once the ball flew near its back, it spontaneously altered course and catapulted skyward.

Mork looked back down at the angry machine, and narrowly dodged a hail of blue bolts as the elderly male opened fire on him from behind their shelter. A second pistol peeked from the entrance, hitting his weapon squarely, melting the firing mechanism. The device glowed red-hot and Mork flung it as he rolled to his feet. That was definitely the Slann.

"Boss! Catch!"

He turned and saw his Noble, ball in hand, who threw it across the intervening space. Mork gently caught it, and with a mighty roar, charged the machine.

it braced itself, claws spread wide, ready to intercept its massive challenger. It dug its feet into the ground in preparation of the collision, and resolutely prepared.

Mork was just a scant few meters from his destination. The machine's claws reeled back to snap at him, and he hurled the ball with all his might.

It landed squarely in the machine's face, blue gel splattering over its surface. it begain to seize up, convulsing erratically, the blue gel flashing and glowing as it absorbed the machine's energy.

The older male readied another volley, but the noble grabbed him from behind and tore the weapon from his hand. One quick knock to the head and the old man was out. Mork pulled the female from beneath the spasming machine and tossed her aside. He gripped the shelter wall and pulled it from the structure, roaring in anger.

The Slann fired twice, but surprise had made him inaccurate, and Mork simply reached inside and pulled him out. The slann continued to fight, swinging ineffectually at Mork as he simply squeezed the barrel of the weapon, crushing it.

The machine finally stopped convulsing, and stood motionless, rooted to to spot. Finally, it let out a single moan and collapsed in a heap.

As the commotion around them raged, he and his noble lifted the heavy machine and dropped its massive bulk down atop the palette.

"Dat was a close wun, eh boss?" the noble grunted.

Mork opened his mouth to speak, but the noble's eyes shot open and a wisp of thick smoke bellowed out from the beck of his head. He fell limp, the back of his head a charred hole.

Shaula readied to shoot Mork next with the pistol he had claimed from Vier's unconscious form, but Mork scooped up a large rock and hurled it at Shaula. He dodged the projectile, which gave Mork enough time to close the distance between the two. He reared back to crush the Slann, and with a mighty roar, thrust his fist forward.

Shaula finally broke, and let out a yell of terror as the massive green fist came hurtling toward him. He covered his eyes and waited, and was pushed sideways by shrapnel.

"You're lucky I need you!" Mork bellowed, extracting his fist form the large rock he had reduced to rubble. He whacked Shaula once across the head, knocking him out cold, and threw him and the two necrontyr in a heap atop the disabled sentry. He hurried backward through the oncoming tide of green-skinned Krork, watching their frenzy. Thats when he spotted his brother.

The massive Krork sprinted forward, his massive feet shaking the ground with each step. Two Necrontyr were in his path, and they rose their hands in surrender. Gork raised his club above his head, and swung it sideways.

It flashed as it collided, creating a visible shockwave that threw stones airborne. The furthest Necrontyr was hurled sideways, likely every bone broken. The first, the one who had actually recieved the impact, was not so lucky. The fragile creature blew apart, limbs and entrails flung sideways from the blast. Gork continued his furious charge, spotting Mork and hesitating a moment.

"Join the battle, brother!" Gork cried, spattered with bits of bone and blood. He stopped when he saw the cart. "Bringing home food, I see! Good thi-"

Thats when he recognized the Slann amongst the pile. His face twisted in rage. "What are you doing!? Are you saving him!?"

Mork sneered. "He's more useful to us alive than dead."

"Then why did they want him dead!?" Gork screamed. He lifted his club over his head and leaned back, then brought it forward with all his might. Mork leapt forward, tackling his brother, and pinned him to the ground. His mouth foamed with rage as he pinned Gork to the cavern floor.

Mork's breathing was deep and angry. Gork peered back at him, and bellowed furiously. He hurled his brother from him, and lunged at him, slamming his fist directly into Mork's jaw.

Mork felt one of his teeth break free as he landed on his back. He rolled and avoided his brother's boot, grabbing it as it crashed into the ground. He yanked, tripping his brother.

The Krork around them, seeing their fight, began to jeer at them, egging on their respective general, eventually beginning to fight each other as well.

Both of them got back to their feet. Mork spit out his tooth and wiped the bood from his mouth, not taking his eyes off his brother.

"Why?" Gork spat. "Why are you doing this? What mad scheme do you hope to uncover? Make me believe, brother!"

Mork curled his lip. "If I knew, I wouldn't have to do this at all! I want to get to the bottom of our REAL purpose to the Slann!"

Gork eyed his brother speculatively, his teeth bared. The two stood, staring at each other, barely even hearing the din of the battle over the silent war going on between them. The smaller krork watched them intently, ready to become involved again at any moment.

"Get out of here then. I hope you find what you're looking for. I hope you find out you're wrong, and this entire ordeal is all in your head!" Gork screamed. He reclaimed his weapon, and pushed his way though the circle of bewildered Krork. One of his nobles came up to him, covered int hick scars.

"Boss, deres a bunch a dem wif armor an big killy guns by da big machine," he pointed at the dilapidated skeleton of the mining platform. "We can't break 'em!"

Gork grunted. He cast one more look at Mork, and sprinted off in the direction indicated by his commander.

The circle disperesed, now more interested in the fight going on than Mork. Mork snatched the edge of the palette and headed for the edge of the caves, confident that there would be few, if any, survivors left.

"I hope thats all I find too, brother," he growled as he shoved the palette through the mass of bodies and screaming Krork.


----------



## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 13
BREAK

Val inhaled sharply, and immediattely started hacking.

"What is that smell?" she asked, sitting up. Her vision was blurry, and she couldn't see much aside from a flickering yellow glow across the room. She felt her face- Smooth, but hot. Her burns weren't severe enough to leave scars, thankfully. She had no idea sunlight was that bad. She blinked a few times, and realized she was inside some kind of wooden structure. One room, with a metal cage in the middle that took up half the space available.

A cage she was in.

She looked around, confused. Her heart sank when she spotted two Krork at a table outside her cell, playing some sort of game involving red and blue chips that they were flicking at each other's side of the table.

One of them, his armor trimmed black, lifted his arm and sniffed himself. "Ain't me." he growled, and returned to his game.

The other one, his armor dotted with red insignias, snarled as the first threw his chip. "Yes it iz, I can smell ya from ova 'ere!"

A smaller green-skinned creature wobbled into the room- A creature Val had never seen before. It had a massive nose and couldn't have been more than a foot tall.

"you lot keep it down! Dem slaan iz headed dis way, an' deys in a bad mood!" it barked, its high-pitched, nasal voice buzzing in Val's ear.

"We dun take no ordas from puny grets! Now git fore I turns ya inta lunch!" the red-clad Krork spat, turning around.

The smaller creature hobbled from the room, his key loop jingling as it dragged across the dusty floor.

"Is still yer go," the black-clad Krork said.

The other one turned to face him. "I know dat! Let me fink."

The two fell silent, the black-clad one wiping a bit of drool from his chestplate while the other leaned forward, scrutinizing the surface of the table. Val watched, confused and curious- There were no markings whatsoever on the crude circular table. She reached to lean on the bars.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and jumped. She whipped around to face a very surprised Vier.

"I didn't want to startle you, you're still under the effects of the sedatives. But, don't touch the bars."

The Krork both guffawed, but turned their attention back to their game.

"Why?" Val asked.

"Why doncha grab 'em an' find out?" one of the Krork laughed.

Vier showed her the palm of his hand- A scorch mark ran laterally across his palm, the charred and blistered flesh blackened. "I'd say theres a lot of current going through them."

They were both startled as the red-armored Krork slammed both fists down on the table, sending the red and blue chips everywhere, as well as knocking over the lantern that was lighting the room. It rolled onto the floor, still lit.

"Ya cheated!" he cried.

The other Krork looked indignant- As indignant as a Krork could look, anyway. "I ain't cheatin', yous jus stupid like all da uvva Gork boyz!"

"Das a lie! You Mork boyz is alwayz cheatin'! Das how Mork duzzit!"

"Mork dun cheat, hez jus' cunnin, not like Gork, jus runnin in an' gettin hisself shot in da face ova and ova cuz hez too stupid ter shoot firs'!"

The other krork let loose a cry of fury, swinging his fists in the air abve his head, and leapt over the table, wrapping his hands around the other Krork's throat. The other krork swung his fists over and over, the noise of them slamming into the other Krork's face echoing down the hall, but the other Krork simply weathered the volley of blows.

The smaller creature ran back in. "Ey! You lot get a hold a yerselves! Dey right down da hall!"

Sure enough, one of the squat Old Ones charged into the room, a look of frustration and anger on his face as he stood, fists balled, staring at the two Krork.

The Gork boy stopped and turned around, a look of shock and fear on his face. he released the other Krork and quckly rolled off him, stumbling to his feet. Thick blackish red blood dribbled from his lip and cheekbone.

The other Krork kicked his legs and hacked as he rolled over, gripping his own throat. He struggled to his feet, panting.

The Slann simply stared at them and blinked. His eye twitched.

"Why?" the Slann asked, throwing his hands out to his sides. "You're supposed to be guarding this cell. Why are you trying to kill each other?"

The two krork looked at each other. "He cheated," the Gork boy said, pointing.

"No, 'ez jus dumb. I won dat game fair an' square," the other Krork spat.

the slann sighed, then spotted the smaller creature. "Get that Gretchin out of here!" he barked.

The gretchin turned to run, but the Slann scooped him up. "And quit filching the keys! If I see you with these one more time, I'll stew you myself!" He jerked the keys from the Gretchin's stained gray pants and dropped it on the ground. It scurried out the door.

The Slann turned to face the two again. "I better not here another peep from this room."

"Who gets da teef?" the Mork boy asked. "Cuz I won."

"I don't care!" the Slann cried, and he stormed from the room.

The two Krork turned to each other, sneering. The Gork boy snapped his attention to the cell. "You lot! Nekkiez! Who gets da teef!" he cried. "You lots supposta be smart an da like. He wuz cheatin, rite?" he blared, pointing at the other Krork.

Even from this distance, the Krork's hot breath washed over Val, and she nearly gagged. His breath smelled like week old meat drenched in vomit.

The two Krork eyed the Necrontyr sternly, their beady red eyes darting back and forth betweent he two Necrontyr. They both began to tense up, their muscles bulging and rippling in anticipation.

Val was frozen with fear at what would happen; She knew whichever one she didn't pick would be furious, and probably kill her. "Uhh..."

The two remained locked, staring at the two.

She gulped. "I didn't really get to see the whole game. Uh, Vier?"

Vier looked shocked. "Well, I..." He stammered. He had no idea what game they were playing, much less the rules. "I don't really know the rules, so I can't-"

"Dassa LIE!" one of them cried. Val wasn't sure which, as she was overcome by terror at its roar.

"Everywunz herd a Chippa! Who gets da teef!"

The two were growing visibly agitated. Val knew if she didn't pick one, they'd blow up again.

"Maybe it was a tie," Vier said nervously.

"A wha?" the Mork boy said, scratching the top of his head.

Val looked at him, and caught on. "You know. A tie. Where both of you won. Don't you know the rules? I saw a tie."

Vier nodded. "I think she's right. You both won."

The two Krork looked at each other. "Well. Dat meenz we has ta give each ovva teef den?" the Gork boy asked, puzzled.

The other shrugged. "If whoeva winz gitz teef from da ovva wun, den only seemz propa."

The two krork reached into their own mouths, and much to the two Necrontyr's horror, jerked a tooth from their own jaws. They gingerly handed each other the still-bloody teeth, glaring. 

The two righted the table and chairs and set the lamp back up properly, then resumed their seats, crossing their arms. Both looked slightly agitated and very bored.

Val turned to Vier. "So how do we get out?" she whispered.

The two Krork immediattely turned their attention tot hem. "Ey! No talkin by priznas! You lot keep it shut ya 'ear?"

Val glared at them. They glared back. She sighed, and sat dow on the poor excuse for a bed that had been clumsily draped across one side of the cell. Vier sat in the dirt, rubbing his chin, lost in thought. Val looked up at the cieling, and wondered if anyone else made it. "Vier, did you see Siil?"

Vier shook his head. "No. They were still outside when we were attacked."

Val nodded. "Maybe they made it then."

The Krork guffawed. "Not wif da Nightboyz all ova da caves. Dey prolly neva even saw it comin'. Dem Nightboyz is ded quick an sneeky."

The other Krork shot him an angry glare.

"Oh. Uhh... I meen, shutcha moufs, you lot!"

Val looked back up at the cieling. Siil wasn't dead; He couldn't be. Her lip quivered, and she couldn't help but worry.



"Let us out!" Ket cried. She struggled against the restraints crudely wrapped around her suit. She kicked the side of the wooden box they were in, which rather than give way and break, caused her to simply push herself backward.

Siil looked back at her, glaring. The metal strips around their wrists were sealed with massive bolts. Even with the colossal strength their suits supplied, they wouldnt be able to simply bust them open. The restraints held their arms behind their backs as well, preventing them from using their hands at all.

The crate they were in slammed down on the ground, knocking them over. Ket grunted in anger, trying to use her feet to right her massive bulk again. unfortunately, her ankles were bolted together as well, making it nigh-impossible. Siil swiveled back up to sit again, his lighter suit much more agreeable with the maneuver. She looked at him disdainfully and simply laid there.

One end of the box split, and the side fell away. The Nightboy who had captured them peered inside. "Welcome to yer new 'ome, Nekkiez." He laughed, and the crate tipped, dumping both of them uncremoniously onto the ground. Siil looked around to see where they were- it appeared to be a crude wooden city, likely a forward base set up by the Krork. The wood was all dead and dried-out, likely from a nearby dead forest.

The Krork lifted them, standing them up awkwardly on their feet. Ket wobbled, not used to her feet being hooked together.

The large Krork pulled out another brown strip and lit the end. he ofered it to Siil.

Siil opened his mouth to expel a few expletives at the Krork, but it jerked its hand back and bellowed, "Hah, too bad! Nekkiez dun get no smoke stikz." and shoved the unlit end in his own mouth.

Siil stared dryly at the Krork.

The krork lifted the lenses on its thick black goggles, revealing its beady red eyes. "If it wuz up ter me, ya'd be dinna. But, Mork sez, all priznas go straight ta lockup. Only 'ad wun dat didn't go, da brainboyz took 'im, an, well..." He laughed. "E'z good az ded now. Dun end up like 'im."

Siil frowned. "Brainboys?"

The Krork around him fiddled with his restraints at his ankles.

The larger krork frowned. "No way you don' know what brainboyz iz. Dey da smart wunz, da little big eyed lot." He said, holding his hand down to the ground for emphasis.

"The Slann? What was so important about that one prisoner to the Slann?"

"Why you care?" it yelled. "I dunno, some kina traita'. Mork wuz fightin dem about it but dey wazn't listnin'. Dey neva do."

Siil's eyebrows perked. "Shaula?"

The Krork shook his head. "I dun care wut 'iz name wuz. Now quit ya yappin or I'ma lose ma patience wif ya!"

The restraints around his ankles popped off, as did Ket's. She screamed a bloodthirsty battlecry and immediattely kicked the nearest Krork, sending it flying backwards.

The larger Krork swung once, landing a right hook to her face. A loud crack resounded, and she fell over limp.

Her leg kicked feebly, and she tried to stand up, dazed.

"Git 'em locked up already!" the larger Krork barked. THe Krork around them lifted Ket back t her feet, and guided them inside. They were pushed into a cell, surrounded by armed guards. Their wrist restraints were removed, and the Krork in the cell quickly ducked back out and slammed the door.

Ket rubbed her wrists, and watched as all but two of the guards departed. The remaining two were also nightboys- Black armor with green moons crudely painted onto the surface. They sat with their backs to the wall, the only illumination in the room being the flame lantern on the table between them. They watched the two Necrontyr, alert, but unamused.

Ket glared at them. "You know I'm going to kill both of you. All I have to do is pry these bars open. I'd go ahead and start crying for help now, if I were you."

The two Krork looked at her, unphased.

She grabbed the bars, and jerked upright, spasming. Her eyes shot open, her teeth bared as she reamined locked to the bars. She glared, and fought the current, finally managing to jerk herself away from the bars.

She staggered backward, her breath shallow and ragged; Thin wisps of smoke rolled from her hair. She doubled over, still jerking slightly as the aftereffects of the electrocution worked its way through her.

Siil was amazed- Their suits were plenty insulated from electric shock. To have that much effect, the bars hd to be hooked to a colossal power source.

One of the Krork waved his hands mockingly. "Elp me!"

Both of them laughed for a moment, and continued watching them.

"Thats a lot of current," Ket said. Her nose was bleedng.

"I don't think we can-" Siil began.

Ket roared, and charged at the bars, flinging her entire weight against them. They bent and buckled, but unfortunately, did not give way.

The two krork scrambled for their weapons, and pointed them in her direction.

Ket was jammed in the bars, convusling as she was electrocuted, but she grit her teeth and simply stared at the two Krork. Siil braced himself, and jerked her backward.

A rush of numbness came over him, followed by searing pain as the massive current penetrated the suit's insulation. He tore Ket from the electrical field, and they both collapsed backwards, spasming. Siil looked at the damage she had caused- The bars definitely showed proof she had been there, but they were intact.

Siil tried to breathe, but his diaphragm jerked uncontrollably.

The two Krork stood up. "Dat wuz a nice try dere boyz, but it ain' gonna be dat easy."

Ket shakily stood up. "Boys? I'm not a boy," she sneered.

One of the krork looked shocked. "Den wut else iz you?"

The other Krork smacked him in the back of the head. "Quit talkin to 'em, ya idiot! Its tryin ta trick ya!"

They both fell silent, weapons leveled at them. They slowly backed up and sat down again, but kept their weapons ready.

A small green creature hobbled into the room.

One of the Krork sighed. "Dat grechin iz bak."

The other one turned to look at it, and groaned. "Git."

The gretchin put its tiny fists on its hips, its sagging, stained blue pants dragging the ground. "Da Brainboyz is headed dis way. Dey sayin its way too noisy down 'ere."

He fiddled with the ring of keys around his belt. The flat pieces of metal jingled loudly, and he looked toward the door, nervous. He gingerly set them down again.

The Krork groaned. One of them looked at Ket. "Fanks a lot, ya idiot."

Ket shrugged. "Not my problem."

The Krork glared, and cocked his weapon. "Is gonna be."

Sure enough, one of the short, squat Slann walked into the room, visibly irritated. "Keep these prisoners under control! I've already had to come down here once. Don't make me come down here ag-"

He spotted the Gretchin, trying to silently sneak from the room.

He pointed at it. "You! Give me those keys you little-"

The Gretchin quickly darted from the room and out of sight.

The Slann growled, shot the Krork one last angry look, and charged out of the room. The Krork rushed to the door and poked their heads out, laughing as the Slann undoubtedly failed to catch the tiny creature.

"Did you see that?" Siil asked, watching them go.

"See what?" ket asked.

"Our ticket out."



Vier leaned back against a large pile of blankets. He had used some of those in the cell- They smelled horrible and had dubious stains on them, but it was better than nothing.

He turned to face the Krork. The Mork boy was asleep, and the Gork boy leaned against the table, propped up by one elbow.

"What you lookin' at?" the Krork spat.

"Nothing. Just wondering, maybe that Krork was cheating after all."

The Krork perked up slightly, interested and agitated.

"Of course, I can't know. If you really are bad at the game, maybe he won for real."

Val was horrified. "Vier! What are you doing!?" She hissed. That monster could rip him in two with no effort applied.

The Krork stood up. "I'm da bes' Chippa playa 'ere. I chuck 'em betta dan any ovva boy!" he yelled.

Vier watched the other Krork nervously, but he didn't even stir. He sighed in relief; He hadn't intended to upset him that much.

"I don't know. I can't really be sure."

Val watched him, shocked. What was he thinking?

The Krork looked down, angry, and at the same time, confused. She could tell it was thinking. Suddenly, the Krork began to scurry around the room, scooping up the blue and red discs from the dusty floor, looking at them in his palm, scratching his head as he tried to count them. After a few minutes, he clenched his fist and flopped down at the edge of the cage. "Ere. I'll prove I'm da bes, I'll win agains' you."

Vier didn't budge. "I don't think you can."

The Krork frowned, its massive brows furrowing. "I knowz I can win! I'll even bet sumfin on it!"

Vier shrugged. "Well, what are you betting? You want my teeth?"

The krork looked around, thinking. "Naw, dem teef iz too puny."

"Hm." Vier shrugged, looking back up at the cieling.

The Krork looked angry and desperate. "Well... What you want!?" It cried. "An don' even say yous wants out, cuz I ain't lettin yous out. Us krork iz too smart ta fall fa dat."

Vier frowned, feigning thinking. Val thought she knew where he was going with this.

"I'll tell you what. If you win, you get my pistol. If I win, I get your rifle."

The Krork glared at him. "You ain got no pistol."

"Of course I do, its in the bag of stuff they claimed from me right down the hall. Problem is, the box its in is locked by my voice, so only I can get to it. Think about it, if you win, you get a flashy gun that all the other Krork only wish they could have. If I win, you can just go say yours broke and go get a new one." Everything he had said was a lie, but if he could pull it off, it might work.

Val knew he had no such thing down the hall, but the ruse seemed to have worked. The brilliance was, no matter what, they would get out of the cell. Of course, what they would do from there was a mystery.

The krork rubbed its chin, thinking. it nodded slightly. "Okay, das a good deal." He laughed evilly. "Ere we go!"

Vier pushed himself up, and scooted next to the bars.

"Ok, you gonna be da red or da blue?" the Krork asked, holding up the various colored chips as a reference.

"Blue," Vier said confidently.

The Krork laughed. "Blue wunz neva win."

He tossed the chips through the bars and began arranging his own chips. "Okay, dis line iz da borda. Don' forgit where das at!" he said, pointing to the line the bars crated across the floor.

Vier nodded, and began to follow the Krork's lead, placing his chips in random places on his side of the "board". Vier silently noticed that they didn't even have the same amount of tokens- Of course, he wasn't even sure they were supposed to.

They both just sat there for a few minutes. Finally the Krork glared at him. "Come on, ya git! Go!"

Vier was surprised. The Krork watched intently as Vier nervously reached down and grabbed a random chip. He picked it up, and haphazardly tossed it through the bars at his opponent's chips. It bounced once and came to rest atop his enemy's disks.

The Krork inhaled sharply, shocked, and clasped his hands around his head. "How you do dat!?" It exclaimed, suddenly furious.

Vier was completely confused. "I... Well, I just know what I'm doing."

The Krork grunted at him as it picked Vier's chip up, as well as a pair of seemingly random chips on his own side, and tossed them to one side.

Vier looked back at Val, who shook her head and shrugged.

The Krork reached down and deftly scooped up one of his own red chips, and made a few false throws to line his aim up. He forcefully hurled the chip down, and it came to rest on top of Vier's own chips.

the Krork exclaimed loudly and gripped its own head. "Let me redo dat wun!" he yelled, pointing.

Vier looked down at the chip, unsure. "I... Erm. I'm afraid I can't. Once you throw, its final."

The Krork put his face in his palms. "I didn't kill nuffing dat time!" he cried.

Vier shook his head sympathetically. "Thats too bad, you'll just have to make it up next turn." He scooped up the red chip, and the Krork watched disdainfully as Vier tossed it aside.

Vier repeated the exact same thing he had done last time, throwing his own blue chip onto a random location on his opponent's side, with a very similar reaction. The Krork was livid, and he scooped up Viers chip along with a trio of his own from another location completely.

He grabbed another one of his own and simply tossed it. He cheered and pumped his fist. "Ha! Das two!"

Vier looked down, blinking. The chip had landed in the exact same spot as last time. He shook his head and claimed it, then stopped. Which of his two did he take off the board? He gingerly reached for one, watching the Krork intently. It didn't react, so he grabbed it, as well as one next to it, and tossed them aside.

They went back and forth several more times, the Krork growing visibly more agitated as the game progressed- Similarly, Vier grew more and more bewildered by the seemingly random nature of the game.

Eventually, the Krork had no chips left on his side. Vier, however, had almost his entire complement.

The Krork began huffing, and eventually, went berserk. "You cheated too, ya slimy git!" it screamed.

The other krork woke up and snatched up his weapon, then spotted his counterpart, mid-tantrum.

"Quiet, ya moron! What you doin anyway!?"

The Krork spun around. "Dis wun cheetz too!"

The other Krork set his weapon down, and stomped over. He looked down at the board. "He ain' cheetin, you idgit! You just bad at Chippa!" He smacked his counterpart in the back of the head.

The Krork stood up, roaring in anger. He glared at Vier, his face twisting in rage.

Vier backed away from the bars, watching the Krork nervously. He had intended to lose on purpose simply because he didn't know how to play. He never expected to win.

"You figured out the rules that quick?" Val whispered.

He turned to face her, bewildered. "Val, I am convinced this game HAS no rules." he replied.

"He won, give im what ya bet 'im." the Mork boy said.

The other krork was still enraged. he grunted once, stomped over, and retrieved his rifle. He tossed it between the bars angrily. "Fine, 'ere ya go."

The other Krork frowned. "You bet 'im ya gun?"

Vier walked over and picked up the rifle. It was heavy, and he strained under its weight.

The krork scratched his head. "Wuz I not suposta?"

Vier pointed the weapon in the Krork's general direction, and squeezed the trigger.

The Krork erupted into a fountain of blood as the red-hot rods tore through it, the pointed rear ends protruding from its armor as the rounds embedded themselves in its flesh. The weapon nearly escaped from Vier as he fired it, but he managed to keep it pointed at his target. The Krork fell over, plainly dead, and he stopped firing.

The other Krork was shocked. He didn't have much time to replace that expression however as he too was soon filled with metal rods.

Val suddenly realized she was squuzing her eyes shut. She breathed again and opened her eyes. Vier dropped the rifle, exhausted, and doubled over.

"I'm too old for this type of thing," he said between breaths.

Val awkwardly hefted the heavy device and pointed the end at the lock on the door, and fired. The metal rod ripped into the lock mechanism, embedding itself inside the mechanism. The door slowly slid open, the shattered lock falling apart as it pulled out of the door.

She stumbled forward with the heavy rifle, struggling to keep it held up. Vier ran to the table and claimed the second rifle.

"I wonder why nobody's responded to the commotion?" Vier asked.

"I don't know, but it won't take long." Val asked.

"Whats goin' on in-" a small voice said. The Gretchin rushed into the room, skidding to a halt when he spotted the two dead Krork. Val dropped the rifle and scooped the small creature up.

The Slann rushed in after it, out of breath. "You two-" He looked up, and his eyes widened as he realized what had happened.

Vier quickly raised the rifle and squeezed the trigger, the Slann stumbling backwards screaming as the metal rods burned through its organs. It collapsed backward, thick, dark cyan blood dribbling from the corner of its mouth.

The gretchin watched with awe and horror, and suddenly hooted with glee. "Ya got 'im! Hah, serves da bastard right!"

Val squeezed it. "You!"

It squeaked, its massive nostrils flaring as she choked it. "Wat!?" it sputtered.

She slightly released it. "Have you seen two Necrontyr?"

"I seen lotsa Nekkies! Ya gonna hafta be a lil more dascriptive!" it said, trying to wriggle free from Val's grasp.

"One with short red hair, one with long black hair. Maybe wearing armor."

it stopped struggling and thought for a moment. "Aw, yeah, I know dem. Dey's right down da hall 'ere, same block an all. Now lemme go!" it resumed its futile insurrection.

Val shook her head. "So you can tell everyone where we are? I don't think so."

Vier looked nervous. "Val, lets go..."

The creature shook its head. "I got no love fa dese gits. Dey treat me like scum. Only reason I even gets ta walk around is cuz I knows how ta git out of da cages! If ya let me go, I'll take ya to ya friends!"

Val glared at it. "If you don't, I'll shoot you." She dropped the creature on the ground.

It coughed, rubbing its own neck. it stood back up, clearing its throat.

Val reclaimed her weapon. "Move it."

The gretchin pulled its pants back up around its waist and darted out of the room. The two Necrontyr followed it, passing by cells as they went- Most were empty but a few had survivors in it. Thankfully, just about every guard was asleep, and the ones that werent were to preoccupied with simple objects or their own toes to notice them.

The Gretchin suddenly stopped, and the Necrontyr skidded to a halt behind it, panting.

"OK, dis nex room is where dey is," it whispered. "But you gotta be quick. Nightboyz is guardin' dis wun, and dey wicked quick."

Val nodded. "Distract them."

The Gretchin thought a moment. "Yeah. yeah, I can do dat."

The Gretchin grinned, and tore off screaming into the room. It screamed something about being covered in insects.

Val peered into the room. Both Krork were up, watching the Gretchin as it rolled about, scratching and screaming, their backs to the door. Vier appeared behind her, and took aim.

The gretchin suddenly stopped and leapt to one side, out of the way of the inevitable hail of metal spikes. Both of the Necrontyr squeezed the triggers, unleashing a hail of metal rods into the two Krork. They turned around roaring as the rods peppered them, and their fronts were pierced as well. They fell over, attempting to draw pistols as they fell, drenched in their own blood.

They stopped, and Val dropped the rifle, rubbing her wrists. Vier ushered her into the room.

Siil was shocked. "Val?"

Ket put her face in her palm. "This is embarassing."

Val stood up. "Let them out."

The Gretchin grabbed its keyring, decked with rectangular keys. He stared at it. "Uh."

Vier snatched the keyring and began jabbing random keys into the lock. Finally, the lock clicked, and the door swung open.

"Its a good thing you guys came," Siil said, running to the desk. He scooped up a rifle.

Ket exited the cell after him. "Saved by a techie and a keeper." She shook her head, and walked over to the dead bodies. She claimed the pistols from the dead bodies and tossed them to Val and Vier, who caught them awkwardly. Even for pistols, they were huge.

She hefted one of the rifles herself. "So, what next?"

Vier and ket looked at each other.

Ket sighed. "Really?"

Siil looked down at the Gretchin, who was going through the pockets of the dead Krork. "Hey. You."

The Gretchin turned around, his tiny fist clutching a bullet and two large teeth, which he jabbed into the pocket of his grey-blue pants. "Names Gubbins. Whatcha need, Nekkie?"

"How many other Necrontyr survivors are there?"

The creature shook his head. "Dere aint many. Whassabout, say, uh..."

The creature scratched its head. It clearly was unable to count.

"Well, ya know how many dere is a you? About, dat, plus dat, plus dat, plus dat, plus dat, pus dat, maybe some more. But most a dem got big armor like da wuns you got."

Ket nodded. "A couple dozen other soldiers and guardians? Sounds good to me. Lets get started.

Suddenly, the comm on one of the dead Krork chirped.

"Thas bad." Val said.

It chirped again, and then stopped.

Suddenly, an alarm blared somewhere outside.

Ket sighed. "Nothing's ever easy."


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## Serpion5

Gork and Mork as well! 

This is awesome stuff, IA. More rep.


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## Farseer Darvaleth

Wow. Amazing. Keep it up, have some rep!


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## dragonkingofthestars

you feel bad for the Necrontyr on the one had you see what the old ones are doing and you are rooting for them, but you know what will be unleashed by there attempts at freedom. 
good stroy I don't think i every heard the Necrontyr as the good guys a new twist on a old tale. Keep going this is a great stroy.


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## Iron Angel

Serpion, you have inspired me to continue my writing of this. Expect another chapter out soon.


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## WarpSpawned

Just finished reading it, nicely done.

Question: With Old Ones, what is your version of them? What do you think they look like>


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## Iron Angel

They are colloquially referred to as "Old Slann". The Slann today are short, fat, toad-like creatures. Serpion anvisions them aither as A: Not the descendants of the Slann as many believe, or their state before they evolved into what they are "now".

I believe little has changed physiologically, so they are four feet tall, perhaps slightly taller. A good tip would be to look at my signature- Therein is Shaula, on the right, plainly identified by his distinctly froglike features.


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## WarpSpawned

Ah, thanks.

Shaula definetely looks a bit like a toad.

Again, great job with the story


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## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 14
UNCOVERED

The wall to the right of Siil splintered and sent shards of flaming wood hurtling down the hall past him, carried by the sheer force of the red-hot metal spikes pounding into the framework that Siil was attempting to take cover behind.

Siil clenched his eyes shut against the fiery fountain inches from his nose, grit his teeth and leaned out, unleashing a hail of red-hot metal at his Krork attackers. He heard a guttural scream, and one of the Krork fell backwards, riddled with smoldering metal spikes. He retreated behind his dwindling cover once more as a retaliatory burst was issued from his fallen foe’s comrades.

One of the Guardians, a man with long, snow colored hair, dark violet eyes, and a thick scar across his forehead, roared in defiance, threw down his now-spent stolen weapon, and hurled himself at the enemy force. Siil recognized the red accents on his armor and knew he was part of Crimson, one of Ket’s soldiers. The Necrontyr’s massive form collided with the Krork with satisfactory results, crushing two of them outright. He swung his fist and the sickening snap of breaking bones echoed down the hallway as the Krork’s jaw broke free of his skull and slung sideways across his head like a limp rag.

He was using his sacrifice as a means to give his brethren an opportunity to press forward.

Ket screamed in rage and charged down the hall after him. Her blood-boiling roar tore down the corridor like a force of nature, causing the converging Krork to break into a momentary panic and stumble as they watched her towering form descend upon them like a raging tide. She lifted her weapon and sprayed wildly at the seething mass of enemy bodies, striking them in their limbs and bodies, the ground shaking with each thundering footstep. Spurred by her bloodlust and defiance, the rest of the Necrontyr rushed forward, and the Krork broke and fled backwards at the oncoming tide of metal and flesh. Siil sprinted after them, but Ket stopped. The Necrontyr who had charged the Krork line lay dead, a defiant scowl still etched upon his face, barely visible through the mixed spatters of lavender and black blood, both his own and those of the foes he had torn apart. His armor was riddled with metal rods, and his neck was twisted awkwardly. Ket stared at the dead soldier, the world in a haze around her. He reminded her of…

Two sudden gunshots near her head snapped her back into reality, and she whipped around to find a Krork with a pair of red goggles and black armor- Adorned with the same crescent moon as those who abducted her- hurtling at her from a doorway in the wall. She blindly opened fire, but the krork slammed into her, already dead, two metallic spikes jutting from the front of its skull. She panted, her battle rhythm broken, to find Siil shaking her arm, and Vier with a smoking pistol in his hand pointing into the room.

Siil eyed her strangely, as though worried. Ket’s icy eyes stared back, unsure what to say. She regained her composure and scowled fiercely at him, angered he had seen her lapse. She tore her arm from his grasp and looked at Vier.

Vier raised one eyebrow, nodded curtly, and said smoothly, “You’re welcome.”

Ket looked down at the dead Krork body. “He was dead long before you shot him. He just didn’t know it.” She kicked the body, then realized that if she had indeed been staring at her fallen comrade long enough for the entire battle group to pass her and the civilian group, which Vier was in, to catch up, then Siil had also stopped to let them pass. Which meant she had been there several seconds- Long enough to drop her guard and remember…

It didn’t matter now. Her face twisted into a snarl and she tore down the hall to catch up with the rest of the group.

Vier looked at Siil. “What was that?”

Siil looked down the hall where Ket had fled the situation wordlessly. He looked down at the body of the dead Necrontyr. “Nothing.”

Vier shook his head. “We need to get moving. We’re already behind. This whole plan hinges on moving quickly.”

Siil nodded and the civilian group followed his lead after the advancing battle group.

-----

The miniscule Slann slammed his fist on the table. “How did this happen!?” he roared.

Gork glared down at the tiny creature. Even for a Slann he was small. His lip curled as he examined the diminutive Slann.

“The Necrontyr would appear to be far more clever than you gave them credit for. I wanted Slann guards but you, or your superiors, I care not which,” he sneered, “decided Krork guards would be adequate.”

The Slann popped his lips and his eyebrow tendrils vibrated. Agitated by Gork’s incessant ignorance, he spat angrily, “We decided nothing of the sort. We wanted Slann guards, but you, or your brother, I care not which,” he sneered mockingly, “assured us that the Krork could handle the task.”

Gork narrowed his eyes. His brother had lied to him- More than that, his brother had made sure to post inadequate guards. It all came together suddenly- Mork had known the Necrontyr would try to escape, and made sure they would succeed.

The Slann looked at Gork. He pressed his lips together and examined him closely. Gork knew something- He could feel the negative thoughts swirling within Gork’s brain.

Gork felt a disturbance in the swirl within his head, similar to someone sticking their finger into a stirring pot of stew- Not enough to be disruptive, but noticeable nonetheless. His eyes turned to the Slann, who immediately stopped probing the massive Krork and took in a small, apprehensive gasp. He would have thought a Krork to be much less aware.

Gork grabbed the tiny creature by its collar, hoisted it to eye level, and growled, “You will never attempt that again, or I will paint these walls with your insides, do you understand?” Mork may have been much more patient with the Slann’s probing, but Gork would have none of it. Slann generally knew that Gork and Mork were aware enough to sense the disturbance, but some ignored these notions, knowing that most Krork were barely aware enough to know when they were injured, much less being mentally investigated. Not that there was much information to be found inside a Krork’s head after all- Aside from a tendency towards violence and the need to follow the orders of their superiors, there was little else.

Gork dropped the creature unceremoniously.

Pulling himself upright, the Slann considered scolding the insubordinate Krork, but thought himself more lucky simply to be alive at the moment, so let it slide. “Where are they headed?” he spat, readjusting his uniform.

Gork looked at the map before him. The prison building was a simple flat, one story with a few parallel hallways lined with rooms that housed the prisoners and their guards. It was a simple and efficient structure to construct, so there was really only one thing they could be headed for- The northern exit, towards the hangars and engineering bay. But how had they known what direction to go to get to these destinations? Unless they had some sort of inside informant…

His mind spun to the Gretchin cages- The Gretchin, usually their ammo loaders, repair workhorses, and simple servants, were also horribly under-guarded, due to the amount of guards needed for the Necrontyr. There was always at least one Gretchin who would escape at any given point. Gork glared. A Gretchin would only be too eager to help someone he saw as potentially helpful to his own goals, most likely freedom to wreak havoc aboard a new ship with a new set of victims to terrorize.

He remembered the small Slann awaiting his answer. “They are going to the hangars and engineering facilities. They are looking to escape.”

“Then you will have to stop them.” The small Slann went silent for a moment, and Gork felt a pulse of mental energy, something he knew what was there but could not grasp or read. The Slann had sent some sort of communication to the rest of his kind.

Before he could ask what, the Slann told him, “We are evacuating. We will take the ships in the hangars, and you will capture the escapees, kill them, and return to us once you are finished.”

Gork frowned. “If you take all of the ships, how are we supposed to return to you?”

The Slann turned to walk out the door. “You will make your own ship to leave. You will head back to our world, Slann, once you are done here.” With that he walked out the door and rounded the corner.

Gork was furious. How were they supposed to build their own ship? Much less one that could make it all the way back to the Slann home world?

He put it from his mind. There was nothing he could do about it now. He had to find his brother Mork and figure out what was going on. He grabbed his mace from the corner and strode from the building, intent on finding answers.

-----

Hausha glared at Shaula. Shaula glared defiantly back through the shimmering blue field that separated them. The special prison was designed to contain Slann, nullifying their ability to simply teleport out or control the guards into releasing their captive. It was wholly unnecessary against Shaula, as he was incapacitated in that regard, but it was more symbolic than anything. Hausha wanted to remind him who he was- He was a disgraced Slann, not some sort of Necrontyr aberration. Thus, he would not share a prison with his collaborators, instead occupying a single cell designed to hold his kind.

“You have lucked out once again, my fallen friend,” Hausha spat. His aged, dark skin wrinkled around his narrowed eyes. “The Slann are evacuating. The Necrontyr have escaped, but the sheer number of Krork will overwhelm them. The Necrontyr will be killed, this futile insurrection will be squashed, and the Slann will once again restore order and balance to the galaxy.”

Shaula glared stoically back. “And what of me? Do you plan on handing me over to the council, taking me back to Slann and making an example of me?”

“And make you into a martyr?” Hausha laughed. “No, you will gain no such satisfaction. The Necrontyr sympathizers will have no such significant figure to rally behind. You will be left here, to starve or be killed by the enraged Krork. You will die with a whisper, a simple casualty of war. Oh, how I will sing praise to your attempts to ally with the Necrontyr, sacrificing yourself. You tried to befriend them but instead proved they will kill Slann, peaceful intentions or not. How sad was the day when I found your dead body on their ship after I tried to rescue you!” Hausha cackled malevolently.

Shaula slammed his fist into the field ineffectually, grinding his teeth. Hausha would make him out to be a tragic case of unrealistic idealism, an example of Necrontyr “savagery”. He would use Shaula as a weapon against the Necrontyr.

Hausha laughed once more, shaking his head, and gestured to the remainder of the Slann inside the clean, polished white structure to leave. They all walked from the structure, leaving Shaula alone in his prison. 

Shaula sighed. This is the second time he had been imprisoned in as many days. At least this would be the last one, he thought dryly. The sounds of screaming and grunting Krork, the distant sounds of gunfire- These things would have normally put him on edge, even frightened him, but at this point it was just background noise, as easy to ignore as the now-absent background noise of the universe.

He leaned backwards against the wall of the dome-shaped prison cell, but just as he was about to drift into sleep, the door burst open, and a huge green figure spilled through. Mork was far too large for the door, so instead of trying to squeeze through, he simply stretched and warped the door until he could fit through.

Shaula stood up. “Come to finish me yourself have you?” he spat defiantly. “Well do it then. I do not fear death. I have already died.”

Mork didn’t even look at him, instead reaching for the panel that sealed the force field. “Only a coward dies before his final breath.”

Shaula wished he could read Mork’s mind. Studying his movements, he was in a hurry- That meant he wanted Shaula for more than just a meal. “What is it you want from me, Mork? If it was simply a morsel to eat-“

Mork cut him off. “You are not to die. Not this day. You will tell me everything I want to know.”

Shaula thought he understood- The Slann were evacuating, and he needed Shaula to help them build a new ship to escape. It was standard procedure, though it occurred to him that they had never actually enacted this procedure until now.

Shaula was relieved for a moment, but his mind sprang back to Siil and the others who had saved him. He glared and looked at Mork. “I will not.”

Mork stopped, and rotated his scowling eyes towards Shaula. Shaula gulped as he stared into the center of those red spheres, the color of hate and rage. He appraised the Slann. “What do you want?”

Shaula blinked. He had expected threats of torture or death, but not compromise. “The… The Necrontyr you captured. They are not to be killed.”

Mork snorted. “I had no intention of killing them. My brother however has surely pieced together my plan by now and is on his way to execute them, you, and me, personally, as we speak.” His patience was at an end. “So do yourself and those Necrontyr a favor and come with me.” He tired of fiddling with the complicated controls, pulled his fist back, and smashed them with a single mighty blow that warped and shattered the ceramic metal alloy. The field flashed brightly then vanished with a loud cracking sound.

Shaula scurried forwards. “Aren’t I in danger out of the cell?” He began to get the notion that the force field was, under these circumstances, more of a sanctuary than a prison. He glanced at the shattered power conduit in the panel.

“If my brother finds you, he will kill you. The Krork will think you are just another Slann. And the Necrontyr will not open fire upon you with me being a much more prized target.”

Shaula nodded. It made sense, in a basic way, but he could not help but think this was a rather half-baked plan. He followed Mork as he pried himself from the building once more onto the balcony above the seething mass of Krork. Mork picked him up under one arm, and ignored Shaula’s protests as he bent the railing and stepped off, falling the twenty feet into the swarm.

-----

They had hit another roadblock. They had almost made it to the end of the hall, but directly in the doorway was a large stationary missile platform. Every time they attempted to rush the device, it would release a barrage of tiny rockets that spiraled down the hallway, striking the interior, blowing apart cover and collapsing walls. They could do little except hope it would run out of ammunition- But waiting here would be the death of them. More Krork would stream in from the sections behind them- Sections they had haphazardly sealed by collapsing the supporting frames and collapsing the roof. This prevented them from being attacked from behind, but also prevented retreat- And the Krork would eventually find a way through, or reinforce their defensive line so heavily they could not break through, something Siil feared had already happened. But then Siil remembered they had a secret weapon.

Siil turned to Ket, taking cover on the other side of the hallway, in a room across from him. “Where is Gubbins?” he roared over the din of gunfire. Red hot rods whipped between them in both directions, painting orange streaks through the air between them. The smell of smoke filled the air.

Ket shook her head- She had forgotten all about the tiny Gretchin. He had to be hiding somewhere in her suit’s storage compartment- That was the last place she remembered seeing him.

She reached behind her, fumbling with a latch she could not feel. She finally found it, and the compartment popped open. Gubbins clambered out, throwing himself to the floor panting. “How long was you gonna ignore me bangin’ in dere!? I couldn’ breav! And nearly freezin’ ta deaf too!” he spat, indignant. It was true- The compartments were airtight, and hoisted right over the antimatter generator to produce a refrigerating effect.

Ket grabbed the small creature and tossed him through the maelstrom to Siil.

The tiny creature shrieked. He looked around him, feeling as though he were suspended in midair, slugs hurtling through the air around him, angry orange spikes flitting past him in slow motion. It took him only a second to pass through the field of fire, but it felt like a lifetime. Siil deftly caught him with one hand, and the Gretchin continued to scream, flailing wildly.

“Gubbins!” Siil screamed, ineffectually. The Gretchin ignored him. “GUBBINS!”

The creature panted heavily, but stopped his attempt to escape, looking at Siil through its beady eyes. “Am I alive?” it squeaked.

Siil glared at it. “Gubbins, can you shut down that missile launcher?”

Gubbins pulled himself from Sii’ls grasp, dropped to the floor, poked his nose around the corner cautiously, and eyed the machine at the end of the hall. He yanked his head back through the door as gunfire erupted again, raking the underside of his long nose against the doorframe. He rubbed it gingerly. “Yes an’ no.”

Siil looked at him frustrated. “What do you mean yes and no?”

Gubbins continued to rub his nose, this time snaking one finger up a nostril in the process. Siil grimaced. “Yes, I can break it an’ move it. Maybe even shoot a couple a’ dem Krork wif it too.” Then he scowled. “But aint no way I’m gonna go out dere and risk gettin’ shot! Or stepped on! Or somefin!”

Siil leaned down. “Gubbins, you can go out there and turn that machine off, escape with us, and take the risk in the process…” he grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and lifted it to eye level. “Or I can throw you down the middle of the hall, where you’re almost certain to get shot.”

Gubbins looked at him worriedly and played with his fingers. “Dere uh, aint no uvva option?”

Siil glowered at him. “One other.” He raised his rifle and stuck the barrel squarely in the tiny creatures face, the tip in the exact spot in his nose the Gretchin’s finger had previously occupied.

Gubbins gulped. “Ok, ok, uh, I’ll try ta make my way down da hall. But you owes me! I wants a distraction! Uvvawise I ant gonna get nowheres!”

Siil nodded. He could do that. He dropped the creature. “On three.”

Gubbins looked at him. He wondered what three was, but Siil didn’t look like he was going to tell him. He simply backed against the doorjamb, clamped his eyes shut, and waited.

Siil sidled to the edge of the door. “One.”

Gubbins reminded himself to breathe.

“Two.”

He wondered how many there was to go to three.

“Three!”

Gubbins tore around the corner and sprinted as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. He could hear Siil roar and heard a burst of gunfire from behind him. He ran for what felt like an eternity, his eyes clamped shut and his lungs on fire as he hurtled down the corridor as fast his tiny legs could take him. He pounded harder and harder- He didn’t know what the plan was, but he wasn’t dead yet, so it must have been working. He realized he hadn’t opened his eyes yet as he collided with a large metal boot. It knocked the wind out of him and he stumbled sideways. He opened his eyes and looked forward into the mass of feet and legs in front of him, stomping back and forth, weaving to escape the bullets. It all came back to him now- This was something he could handle. He could weave through a mob of angry Boyz. He had done so to steal from them, to escape from them (Usually once he was caught stealing), and to simply survive. He dipped and ducked between the kicking legs, coming down around him like thunderous pillars. He deftly dodged left, ducked under a boot in mid-step, and hurled himself forward to avoid a foot. He lunged to one side to avoid the collapsing corpse of a Krork, and scrambled to avoid the mass of Krork moving to replace him. He sprinted to the back of the group, past the mass of crushing legs and smashing feet, clambered into the underside of the missile launcher, and began gripping handfuls of wire and tearing at them.

The machine emitted a violent gout of smoke, sparks shot from its innards, and it began beeping as it discharged a gout of missiles which sputtered and swerved, careening into the mass of Krork, who turned to the machine and opened fire upon it in a panic. They backed straight into the Necrontyr battle line, and Gubbins dropped from the insides of the ruined machine and took cover around the corner of the building. He looked around the corner, and watched as the machine emitted another burst of black smoke, whined loudly, and erupted in a brilliant fireball that enveloped the Krork attempting to fix the errant device. Shrapnel skidded to a halt near him, and he let out a cheer- He had done it. He had killed the Krork! He hooted and pumped his fist into the air.

His celebration was cut short as he felt his tiny fist grabbed and he was yanked into the air by his arm. He rotated to look at his captor, and his heart sank into his foot as he stared into a pair of dark red eyes, set amidst a colossal green face. Gubbins choked on his own terror, wishing he too had been killed by the explosion.

“What are we celebrating for, Gretchin?” Gork growled, his low, guttural voice seeming to shake the entire planet.

-----

Mork walked determinedly through the mass of Krork, all wandering aimlessly, looking for where the fight was- A couple had sprung up between the Krork themselves, so eager for battle and so unable to figure out where the real fight was that they had started their own scuffles just to fight something. 

An explosion rocked the ground, a brilliant orange fireball catapulting into the air around the northern side of the prison. The sound of engines added to the din, as the Slann transport ships lifted from the tops of the enclosed hangars, gleaming white wing shapes reflecting the light of the waning sunset before they sped away. The Krork paid little attention to the ships- They were more concerned with the explosion. But the ships were an unexpected turn. He had not expected the Slann to simply abandon them, though it occurred to him that it was both fortunate in the short term, and extremely problematic in the long term. It had allowed him to easily access Shaula’s prison, but how were they going to get off the planet?

For the moment, he had to deal with the Necrontyr. He needed them as much as he needed Shaula- More now that they had to figure a way off the planet. The mass began moving toward the explosion, making it easier for Mork to push his way through the mass, the smaller Krork making way for him.

The mass paused as a booming voice roared from the northern side of the building.

“KILL THEM ALL!” Mork heard, in an unmistakable, roaring voice.

Mork shook with rage. Gork had gone after the Necrontyr first, instead of the Slann. He should have predicted that, and kicked himself for not realizing Gork would see the Necrontyr as the bigger threat than the Slann.

Mork sprinted through the crowd, shoving the smaller Krork aside. “Ignore that order!” he roared, rounding the corner to see Gork, a Gretchin in his hand, attempting to escape.

Gork spotted Mork. “You traitor!” he spat, and swung his mace over his head. He forgot about the tiny Gretchin and dropped it. It scurried away, coughing, but Mork ignored it.

“I am no traitor! I have saved our people!” Mork spat.

The smaller Krork sensed danger, and moved away from the two massive warriors.

Gork continued to advance, ignoring his brother.

“Think! The Slann are gone, and here we have the truth!” he said, holding up Shaula, who froze in terror.

Gork saw the Slann and stopped a moment, his advance slowing.

Mork saw that his brother was slowing. “If you are right, if there is nothing going on, we will proceed with the destruction of this Slann and the Necrontyr. But what if it’s not that simple? The Slann are already gone. We are in no hurry. Let me ask my questions, and if the answers are not to be concerned with, then I will drop everything I have been on about. But I need to know. We need to know.”

Gork glared at Mork, his thoughts swimming. He dropped his weapon, realizing Mork was right, for once.


----------



## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 15
TRUTH

The Necrontyr listened. The gunfire had stopped once the explosion happened. Siil wondered if the Gretchin had been killed by the detonation, but put it out of his mind as he listened as the fabled Krork leaders spoke. He listened to every word- It seemed one wanted answers about something, but of what Siil did not know. Why he wanted to keep the Necrontyr alive was also a mystery, albeit a mystery he was glad of.

The silence carried on for what seemed like an eternity. Siil peered around the corner, and the Krork in the doorway were more concerned with the conversation outside. He contemplated attacking them in their moment of distraction, but restrained himself- By now, there would be so many Krork aware of their presence it would be a hopeless battle. They had already lost three soldiers just getting down this hallway. They would all be killed if they attempted anything so rash. He glanced over at Ket, who thankfully appeared to have come to the same conclusion, and if the expression on her face was any indication, she was thoroughly enraged by this fact.

Gork eyed his brother, and thought for a moment. “We ask all questions here. In front of us. The Necrontyr will be confined- Again- And they will be watched closely, with a lot of guns pointed at them.

Shaula shook his head. “No deal. I want my allies here.”

Mork shook him, irritated. Gork was not much for compromise.

Gork narrowed his eyes. He paused briefly. “Then you may have them. They will be disarmed and unarmored.”

Mork was confused. Gork didn’t ordinarily compromise. He had an angle.

“If you refuse to speak, they die in your stead.” Gork growled.

Mork nodded. He was using them as collateral. He wondered if Shaula had, instead of surrounding himself with those he was comfortable with, consigned his allies to death. Regardless, it was too late now.

Gork turned and strode back to the entrance.

Siil was not happy with the terms Gork had set forth. He would not be separated from his armor once again. The thought of being so defenseless was worse than death in his opinion, and if he knew his brethren well, they thought the same thing. Ket was absolutely furious with the idea. She flared her nostrils, but said nothing. Siil expected her to explode, but she maintained her composure, at least well enough not to tear apart the Krork that came to claim them.

They were unceremoniously dragged outside, facing down as many guns as could be pointed in their direction.

Gork looked at them, standing tall enough to simply look over his smaller brethren, the tallest of which barely came up to his stomach. Siil looked upwards at the giant- He had seen Mork twice, but this was not Mork. He figured them to be about equal height-wise, but at this distance of only a few meters, he looked significantly larger than he really was. “Take it off,” he growled menacingly. He looked among them. “Now.”

The civilians aided their military brethren, doing as they commanded and pressing the concealed emergency release keys. The armor fell about them in piles of metal pieces as they folded open and revealed their flesh-and-blood occupants. Gork tilted his head sharply and a couple Krork shambled forward, claimed the armor pieces from the dozen or so Warriors and Guardians, and retreated once more.

Gork turned to Shaula, pushing him into the circular no-man’s-land the Necrontyr occupied. “Pick them.”

Shaula was stunned. “W-what?”

Gork snorted. “Pick the ones you want to share your story with. The rest will be confined properly until this situation is resolved. They will be kept under surveillance- I will not have a seething mass of Necrontyr to watch at once in front of me so one can slip away unnoticed. Not that there is any place to go. The Slann took all the ships already.”

Siil’s heart sank. Their escape plan had tanked before they had even gotten out the door- Even had they succeeded, they would have been trapped here anyway. Though it didn’t matter now.

Shaula hesitated. All of the Necrontyr looked the same to him- Long, stretched faces, bone-white skin, lanky, slender bodies. The females were only barely discernible from the males, only because they possessed larger chests. He blinked, and decided to call them by name, something he wasn’t sure was wise. “I want Siil, Ket, Val, and Vier,” he said, hoping he had pronounced everything correctly.

Siil wasn’t sure if Shaula had done him any favors like this, but he stepped forward to stand near Shaula, as did the other three. “Where is Gubbins?” Siil asked resolutely.

Gork dismissed his question. “The Gretchin, if that is whom you speak of, is unimportant. Take the rest of them away. And disperse. There is nothing here to see.”

The mob looked at Gork as though he had spoken some indiscernible language to them.

Gork’s temper flared. His eyebrows arched and he bared his long, sharp teeth. “GIT!”

The Krork hurriedly scrambled into action, shoving the remainder of the Necrontyr into the building. Those that could not help simply hobbled away, eager to escape Gork’s wrath.

Mork gestured to the group. “Follow.”

Siil looked around him. Val and Vier walked behind them. Vier was calm and collected, but Siil saw a small quiver in his hands that suggested fear, though he was undoubtedly trying to formulate a plan to get out of this mess. He had come up with the plan on how to escape, and it had almost worked.

His eyes moved to Val, whose fear was much more visible. She bit her lip and walked stiffly, her eyes darting back and forth. Her eyes caught his, and lingered there for a moment, silently. She swallowed, tilted her head forward, and pursed her lips, staring straight ahead, determined not to let a tear slip.

Siil tried to stop himself, but his gaze moved to Ket. She was the tallest in the group, her short red hair disheveled, a furious scowl painting her face. She stomped along, her black neural interface suit gripping her body tightly, molding together at the creases as she walked. She glanced sideways at him, and her gaze spelled death, not appreciation. Siil looked forwards once more. Ket felt as defenseless as he did right now, and like him, perceived simply looking at her as an unavoidable attack.

Gork snarled from the back of the group. He never agreed to move the Necrontyr, though it made sense to get them away from where they felt familiar fighting.

As Siil was led through the slipshod Krork structures, several things stuck out at him. First and foremost was the pungent aroma, something he had managed to escape from during the fight through sheer endorphin rush. It was worse indoors, where the creeping sunlight cooked whatever horrendous paste kept these structures intact and encouraged it to fill the air with its vile fumes, trapped inside the structures and unable to escape. But outside was something else. Indoors, the paste may have overpowered this other smell, or it simply wasn’t there- But here, walking through the still air under the pink and violet sky, it was unmistakable.

It was a smell like rotting fruit- Sickly but sweet. Siil realized it wasn’t anything the buildings were made of, but the Krork themselves, their stocky bodies milling about, casting sidelong glances at the four not-so-lucky Necrontyr as they passed, some in confusion, some in awe, and some in malice. One large Krork they passed sneered at Siil, bearing a single gleaming golden fang. Siil glared back at it, but neither made a false move while flanked by the massive warlords.

The next thing Siil noted was the stark contrast some of the structures had. After passing a dozen or so ramshackle wooden boxes, gleaming white domes and spires sprang from the ground like unnatural mushrooms that had made their way to someplace they clearly did not belong. He had remembered seeing them not far from where the fight took place, but so much had happened that he had not had time to pay attention to them until now. These must have been where the Slann stayed, he thought. Typical. They would of course erect prefabricated structures for themselves and leave the Krork to figure out their own lodgings. There weren’t many of the awkward white constructions, maybe only half a dozen, but they were large, and most of them had their entrances one or two floors up, standard for the Slann whose home world was notoriously marsh-like. Slann oversight had been small, a force sent simply to manage the Krork.

The white buildings slipped from view, and the five were herded forwards into a clearing, at the center of which was a circular slab of stone surrounded by benches. The slab was cylindrical, flat on top, the brim of it about five feet in the air. There was enough space around the structure to fit what was likely every Krork in the base. Siil guessed that this was where the Slann deigned to issue their orders from, where they could round up all the Krork and feed the information to them all at once. He didn’t have much time to ponder on it however, as a sharp jab in his back urged him forward. He turned, expecting to see Gork glowering at him, issuing a silent warning to keep moving, but instead saw the studious glare of Vier, who had been urging him forward despite his preoccupation with his surroundings.

They stopped in the middle of the clearing at what Siil assumed was the center of the base. The sun had crept down over the horizon, painting the sky its familiar shade of magenta. Gork pointed to a bench, looked at the Necrontyr, and spat, “Sit, and do not move.”

Shaula remained standing, a couple meters away. Gork and Mork circled him, studying him.

Gork stopped in front of him. “What is our purpose?” he asked simply.

Shaula was confused. THIS is what they wanted to know? Surely they knew the answer. “You are created to fight. It is what you are made to do.”

Gork narrowed his eyes. “Fight? How so?”

Shaula gulped. “You were made to be the perfect warriors. You cannot be starved, you cannot be exterminated. You are meant to take over planets and control them.”

Gork threw his hands up. “There you go. We are designed to take planets for ourselves, and own them forever. Are you satisfied?” he said, looking at Mork.

“You are not asking the right question, brother. I do not want to know HOW we fight.” He turned to Shaula. “I want to know WHY we fight.”

Shaula understood now. Mork was dissenting. He doubted the Slann’s intentions. “You fight because the Slann want you to.”

Gork waved his hand. “This much is obvious. They call upon us to fight from time to time.”

Shaula shook his head. “You don’t understand.” He turned to Mork. “I order you to stomp your foot.”

Mork obligingly stomped his foot. He looked down at his leg, as though it were alien to him, something with a mind of its own that had latched onto him.

Shaula turned to Gork again. “You fight because the Slann want you to.”

Gork was dumbstruck. “How? How and why?”

Shaula shook his head. “You were designed to be the perfect warriors. When a race is to be stamped out, you are used to crush them. Your race is young but fills a role the Slann have had to do themselves- Subduing another race for the Slann. You are irresistible occupants on other worlds- No matter how hard a force defends themselves, more and more Krork will wear them down until they surrender or are exterminated. Your purpose is to be a pawn of the Slann. When a Slann orders you to do something, you are compelled to do it. Things you feel very strongly about can be resisted, even ignored, but subtle commands will generally prevail. The Slann can steer you how they see fit.”

Silence hung in the air like a sick fog, so thick that Siil was sure that even if he tried to stand, it would be so heavy it would simply prevent him from moving. The truth was there, for all to see- The Krork, mere puppets, and Necrontyr, consigned to being bludgeoned to submission or death by them. There was no tension- only heavy silence, the kind of silence that penetrates the world when something truly catastrophic comes to light, the sinking, morbid realization that things are not as good as they seemed only moments before.

Gork and Mork stared wordlessly, some would even venture to say shocked, at Shaula’s revelation. Shaula did not look afraid or fearful of what the two colossal Krork at his sides would do to him. If anything, he looked sad, even ashamed, of what his people were doing. Despite all their reason and pious rationalization of steering the races of the galaxy for their own good, the Slann boiled down to little more than slavers who lord their superior abilities over all they hold within their grasp, and were more than willing to sacrifice others for their own cause. The silence pervaded a moment longer, until Gork finally snapped.

“Lies!” he roared. “These are lies!”

Shaula backed away, but Gork made no gestures of violence. “Why are you trying to exterminate the Necrontyr?” Shaula forced himself to stand rigid and peer down his nose at the Krork, a feat which required him to tilt his head back quite a bit. He narrowed his eyes. “What reason do you have to destroy them?”

“Because that is part of our deal. If we destroy or subdue them, the Slann will release us, to be free once again.”

Shaula shook his head. “Once again? And how long will it be before the Slann come calling once more?”

Mork was lost in thought. It all made sense to him now. He looked up at Gork. “The Slann offer us freedom as a reward. What happens when we say no? Will they deign to create a new race to kill us, or will they simply do it themselves? We can’t even say no. Have you ever thought about it brother? Why have we never said no?” He shook his head, and his eyes glazed over as he started at some object seemingly on the other side of his brother, as though Gork wasn’t even there. “Why have we never said no?” he asked once more, lost in thought.

Gork’s mouth moved, but no words came out. “Because… They created us. We owe them.”

Mork scowled, and focused once more on his brother, his eyes darting back and forth across his face, as though he were attempting to read unseen words written in his brothers eyes. Mork now understood- Gork did not deny these things because he truly believed they were false. He denied them because he desperately wanted them to be false. “We owe them the right to steal our freedom and send us to our deaths, fighting enemies that are not ours, whenever they please?”

Gork continued to flounder, then his face twisted and he looked at Shaula. “Its him! He can control us! He is controlling us to reach this conclusion!”

Mork stepped between them. “Brother… Its all true. It all comes together. We are being used, willing pawns, being told we are free when we are little more than slaves.”

Shaula spoke slowly and solemnly. “None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who believe they are free.’ That is a common saying among my people, but it would apply here as well.”

Gork hung his head. It couldn’t be true. He could not have been leading his people along a lie this entire time. There had to be some sort of lie here, but it made too much sense. Could it really be that he had been deceived? That he really was little more than a slave? All of the lives he had taken, all of the lives he had lost- Were they all at the behest of a master who didn’t care? Was he simply a murderous puppet for a murderous master?

Gork’s face twisted in rage once again, but not at Shaula, or the Necrontyr. He looked at Shaula once more.

“They said we would make a ship and get back to them. Is this part of the plan as well?” he hissed, pushing Mork aside as he drew closer.

Shaula nodded. “When you are abandoned, either for the safety of the Slann or because Slann supervision is unnecessary, you will swell in numbers until your combined presence in the warp overwhelms you. At this point, you will be compelled to do anything in your power to return to the Slann. You will seek out the nearest Slann settlement, and only then will the need subside. Once this settlement becomes numerous enough, you will all feel an irresistible urge to seek out the Slann and willfully return yourselves to their service. It tethers you to us, requires you to serve us. Too long in our absence, in a group too large, will bring you back to us against your will. You will improvise, do anything you possibly can, to return to the Slann. You will need it, feel the need in every inch of your body.”

Gork shook his head. It was true. He was already feeling the absence of the Slann; it made him itchy and uneasy. Everything Shaula said was true.

“So we are safe from this feeling overwhelming us while you are here then?” Gork asked.

Shaula shook his head. “Under normal circumstances that would be true. My presence in the warp would quell it. Unfortunately…” He rubbed the burns on his lip. “…That presence has been severed.”

Gork narrowed his eyes. “How long do we have?”

Shaula shook his head. “I don’t know. I never worked on the project. Fleet commanders were simply warned that Krork would seek out fleets or stations, as they are centers of Slann population. But I can’t imagine it would overcome you quickly.”

Gork looked at Mork. “Then we have work to do.”

Mork looked at the Necrontyr. “And what of them? What do we do with the Necrontyr?”

Gork turned to them, and slowly strode over to them. “Do you have scientists? Ship workers? Engineers? Those who can build ships and weapons?”

Val nodded emphatically, eager to assure the Krork that they were more useful alive. She spoke quickly, nervously, her breath catching in her throat and her hands flitting about in front of her as she formed the words in her mind. “I am a scientist. Vier can fly any ship you can build, and there are others. We-“

Gork help up his hand. “Good. You will show us how.”

Mork strode over. “Do we free them?”

Gork looked at the four, each in turn. They had fought, and died, for their freedom. They were warriors. They did not fear death, or pain. They deserved as much of a chance to survive as the Krork did. “Free them. Let the Slann fight their own enemies.”

Shaula stepped up. “The rest of the Krork must know, otherwise the Slann can control them against you. But more than that, you must make them feel strongly about it. You must inspire them. You must engrave it in their hearts, so they can resist the commands of the Slann.”

Gork looked at Mork, and did something none of the five companions had ever seen a Krork do, something that looked strikingly unnatural. A twisted grin stretched over Gork’s face, baring a jaw filled with dozens of small, gnarled tusks. “Beer meet?”

Mork returned the grin. “Beer meet.”


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## Serpion5

It`s good to see this up and running again Iron. :good: 

And it`s shaping up quite well.


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## Dave T Hobbit

Serpion5 said:


> It`s good to see this up and running again Iron.


Indeed; two chapters in two days is excellent


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## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 16
GHOSTS

It had been a very long day. Spurred on by battle and desperation, Ket realized she had not slept since their brief trip aboard the escape pod.

The escape pod that carried her away from her station, the station should have died defending.

She cursed in her head, a low thrumming in the back of her mind, pulsing, dulling everything. She fought back a yawn as she stared up at the amaranth sky, the sun invisible over the horizon, its presence still echoing across the sky. It was left a deep violet stained with streaks of pink by the scattered dust clouds in the atmosphere, carried across the arid mass of desert and vanishing across each horizon, shifting lazily as the wind shifted them back and forth. The sky looked like the surface of the ocean, as if she were drowning, looking up at the surface of the water, the waves and ripples swinging lazily back and forth above her, tantalizing her with freedom.

She shook the thought free from her head. She was tired. This long without sleep would do all sorts of things to your mind. She pushed open the heavy metallic door, struggling against its weight, irritated that it was as cumbersome as it was. They had been freed, but the Krork still did not trust them all enough to arm them once more, instead insisting that they wait and remain watched. Mork had given them the pearl-colored domes the Slann had occupied. He relayed clearly to them that this was not a simple act of generosity- They were to evaluate these structures during their stay and attempt to understand, dismantle, reassemble, and operate any technology left behind, in the hopes of finding tools or parts that could be used in the construction of an engine capable of entering orbit and staying there. Gork kept the location of their stashed gear a secret, but assured them, firmly, that it was safe, and most importantly, very well guarded. Ket had not helped the situation when she, quite vocally, told the two large Krork exactly what they could do with the stashed gear. She rubbed her eyebrow, the large bruise still covering it, and thought to herself she was probably lucky- Had Gork really wanted to hit her as hard as he could, that single swing would have left very little above shoulder level.

The Slann sleeping quarters were uncomfortably roomy, the beds unnecessarily large and soft. She didn’t know if anyone else was in the room with her, and she didn’t much care. As she sank onto the bed, the softness seemed to draw the sleep from her. She collapsed sideways, her eyes fighting to stay open, her mind flitting back to the dead Guardian. The guardian with hair the color of snow and eyes the color of the sky outside…

Ket struggled to stand. Around her she could hear the whining of energy weapons, the rapid clacking sound of the ion pulses crackling from Necrontyr rifles, the heat piercing the frigid air with explosive force. But it was all hazy, as though she were trapped in a thick box, hearing the sounds from miles away.

She was vaguely aware she was on her back, her eyes looking at the orange sky. Through her blurred vision, she saw a trio of Scourge skiffs skirt across the battlefield, a hundred meters in the air. A crack reverberated through her skull and a white flicker, a burning scratch across the sky, like a jagged tear ripped through the universe for a brief instant, stretched from somewhere beyond her feet to the surface of the flyer, and it careened from the sky, trailing a greenish smoke as it plummeted from the sky. The remaining pair split up, avoiding the arc cannon that had struck the first.

She turned her head, her mind swimming in a haze, and saw to her left and right other Necrontyr, warriors, guardians, crashed pilots, anyone capable of holding a weapon, leaning over some sort of barricade, firing their weapons frantically, desperately. She squinted to see what they were hiding behind, and to her horror realized it was a mixture of wrecked vehicles, ruined machinery, and Necrontyr corpses. The sight brought a rush of sobriety to her head, and she felt a hand jerk her to her feet.

“Get up!” the massive Guardian yelled. Panicked, she looked at him- One white, dead eye focused on her from beneath a thick, ropy scar running across the Necrontyr’s face, over one brow, and down his neck. He was bald, and his face was wrinkled, his black and violet veins sticking out against his bone-colored skin like thick roots of some defiant vine that refused to die.

She was panting, the chaos around her swallowing her. She didn’t know what to do or where to go. She turned to her left, and watched as a flurry of arc bolts rained down across their cover, forcing them down. From behind her, she heard a sharp scream, and whipped around to see where it came from. A Necrontyr warrior lay on his back in the mud, a burn across his face, revealing charred bone where flesh should have been. Another Necrontyr was crouched over him, grasping him by the shoulders, screaming something indiscernible over the din of battle.

Gunfire roared around her, the sounds of skiff engines, ion bolts, and arc casters shrieking through the chaos. The world around her spun, and she knew nothing except she needed to get behind something. She scooped her weapon from the ground, the twin ion cannon covered in mud and grime. Her hands slipped across the slick surface of the grip, and she stumbled forward, her panic nearly overwhelming. It all came back to her at once- She had been riding on the back of a massive Necrontyr hover tank, a gigantic black block of living metal, pyramidal shaped with guns at each corner. The vehicle was the point of their offense, the tip of the spear.

But they had not anticipated the arc cannon.

The massive gun erupted into existence out of thin air. It was nearly as large as their vehicle, and it spat gouts of electricity that enveloped the vehicle in shaking energy.

Through her haze, she saw what remained of it- The top blown completely off, a smoldering wreck ensconced in a black crater. Gouts of smoke streamed from its bloated corpse, sparks shooting from its innards as it struggled vainly to spring back to life. She threw herself against it, and realized she was missing something.

Realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, and she screamed, as loud as she could, “HALA!”

She looked around her- Hala had rode in with them, she had been on the vehicle, was part of the team that was supposed to take and hold the forward position. She had been fortunate enough to be behind one of the vehicle’s vertical supports, but now she cared only for the life of her little sister.

Ket’s first taste of battle was more harrowing than she had ever imagined. The world around her was exploding, doused in flames. Necrontyr at her sides, taking cover, were slowly falling, one by one, victims of a thousand arcs of lightning, spilling from someplace on the other side of where she took cover. Her head whirled wildly, unable to accept all of it at once- The jets of smoke across the bright, fire-orange sky, the slick brown grime that sucked at her feet, seeming to want to drag her under, the very planet trying to kill her, the flashes of blue and white that blasted around her, the screams- the horrifying screams- of the dying, and the lifeless, almost peaceful corpses of those that had fallen, lines of pale indigo streaming from their mouths as their eyes gazed forward, glazed and unfocused.

She felt like she could scream, and cry, and run, but gripped her weapon tightly, her only hope of survival, the one thing she had been taught- Never let your weapon go. Her breathing accelerated and she could feel her heart in her throat, pounding like a hammer trying to escape from her chest.

A loud thunk to her left spun her back to reality, and the fog lifted slightly.

A long, ghostly face, framed by center parted hair the color of frost, stood panting before her. Inset were two wide, frantic violet eyes, that found Ket’s eyes for a moment.

Ket was panicked, but knew her sister was alive. Hala wore the lighter, slimmer armor of the Warriors, frontline assault troops, a stark contrast to the massive bulk of Ket’s guardian suit. Her face was clean and bare, just like Ket’s, save for the spattered grime and mud. Neither had received a combat insignia yet. Ket wanted to reach out, grab onto her, and will the death and the pain away, to make her sister safe again, but her body wouldn’t move, and the two looked at each other, panicked, but assured- As long as the two were together, it would all be fine. Ket had always looked out for her younger sister, and vice versa.

Hala swallowed, and controlled her breathing. Her entire body quaked as the battle raged around her and she attempted to heft her weapon. Dozens of hardened soldiers had been sent in with them, but only a handful remained. Her arms turned to gelatin and refused to hold the rifle up.

Ket was about to shout something to her, whether it was relief, or something to bolster their courage, she didn’t know yet, but was deafened by the sound of screaming engines. She quickly realized these weren’t skiff engines, careening from the sky, plummeting to splash heavily into the mud and explode, leaving yet another lifeless husk of machinery sticking from the ground like a jagged, broken bone breaking through the planet’s skin. These were different.

Ket looked up, and saw half a dozen orange streaks plummeting from the sky. But these were not broken engines, they were in formation, falling in straight lines, set to land atop the final holdout of the Necrontyr, to break their position before reinforcements could arrive.

Old One shock troopers.

They had heard the stories- Very young Old Ones with a thirst for battle became shock troopers, reckless and wild on the battlefield, zealous for their cause and thirsty for the destruction of their enemies. They dropped from the sky on jump jet drones, then hurled themselves into a deadly melee with their foes, brandishing wrist-mounted energy blades that sliced through even the thick hulls of vehicles, their lack of skill and experienced matched simply by the frenzied ferocity they wielded, a zealous fury, chaotic carnage whirling through anything brave or stupid enough to stand in front of them.

The others saw them, yelled in panic, and fired upwards, blue streaks ripping apart the orange sky, dancing wildly around the enemy jump troops as they flung themselves from the sky at their foes. Ket’s panic receded and instinct took over, and she pointed her ion cannon at the sky, the pulses shredding the air in front of her. One bright yellow target spun wildly, then detonated, but the remaining five continued their descent in spite of the desperate efforts of the forces below them, stubbornly refusing to die, their jump jets roaring defiance as they drew nearer and nearer.

The formation hit the ground with a thud, sending mud in violent splashes around them, clouds of smoke from their deceleration burns shrouding them. For a moment it was still, and Ket vainly hoped beyond hope they had somehow died on impact. But it wasn’t so.

The five figures, clad in bulky suits of black and gold armor, hurled themselves from the smoke, their young, light tan skin the color of rotting flesh, baring their teeth as their flaming golden eyes lit up with fury. Long, thin energy blades erupted from their wrists, knife-like blue beams that danced with energy, as if the weapons themselves anxiously awaited the taste of their victims’ flesh.

The Necrontyr backed from their cover, roaring in rage, spewing blue bolts at their attackers. Two were instantly overtaken, blades passing through the Necrontyr as though they weren’t there, leaving thick orange gashes in the armor that burned angrily, the unfortunate occupant screaming in agony as the blades shredded them, their frenzied attackers dicing them apart, then leaping from their still-screaming victims to give chase to the furiously backpedaling attackers.

Ket couldn’t breathe- All the panic, and the horror was back. One of the shock troopers spotted them, his eyes locking onto them like the steely eyes of a predator who had decided on its next victim. She could see Hala, as if in slow motion, shriek in defiance, and run towards the group, lifting her rifle and unleashing a hail of bolts at the relentless attackers. One was caught in the back of his head and plummeted forward, face-first into the grime, his energy blades boiling the muck around them as they sputtered in the wet mud. The one nearest didn’t even look towards his fallen comrade, his eyes still fixed on Hala, his eyes glowing with fury, and he lunged at her.

Ket watched, unable to move, as Hala toppled backward, the Slann colliding with her chest, pinning her down. Ket’s mind came back to her, but her arms felt like they were made of lead as she fumbled with her cumbersome weapon, screaming in her head, shrieking at her body to do what she was telling it to do, to bring the weapon up, to kill the enemy who was about to murder her sister.

Ket struggled, and watched as the Old One reared his arm back, the blade glowing energetically, bolts of plasma racing across its edges, eager to dice through flesh once more. The creature moved slowly, almost as if he was savoring the kill, letting his prey linger in terror one more moment.

Hala looked up into her sister’s eyes. Ket gazed back in horror, reading an unwritten message in Hala’s gaze. Hala had given her life to save her sister, and as their eyes locked, Hala was not afraid, or panicked- She knew she would die, but knew she had saved Ket.

Ket’s body screamed into action, sheer endorphins and rage and panic all swirling into one blaring mass inside her that exploded, roaring something indiscernible, something primal, replacing all her fear with rage, her panic with blind fury, and her hands gripped the front of her weapon. She swung the front end straight into the Old One’s face, its head jerking backwards with a snap, but it was too late. The long, flickering blade had plunged into Hala’s chest, and her lifeless form lay limp. Ket’s rage peaked, her fury and panic racing through her like a tidal wave as she roared her wrath at the remaining Old Ones, pouring round after round into the backs of the Shock Troops. They turned to face her, their armor scarring and blistering from the heat as they turned to her, but her blind fire caught them in their vulnerable faces, and Ket watched with a mixture of disgust and morbid satisfaction as the rounds ripped them apart, their eyes bursting from the heat, their skin peeling and charring as they plummeted, smoldering and shrieking to the mud, into the wet earth, where they belonged. Even after all five corpses lay sprawled in the dirt, she continued to roar in anger and spray ion bolts across their carcasses until her weapon screamed at her, overheated, and fell inert.

She realized everything around her was suddenly silent. No gunfire, no crackling energy arcs. In that brief moment, air support had wrecked the teleporting arc cannon and scattered the ground forces pinning them down. The battlefield was still, punctured only by the sounds of feebly sparking machinery and Ket’s own receding heartbeat. A slow, sinking feeling crept across her as she came to the realization she was the only one left. She turned to look at the battlefield around her. Dozens of corpses lay in the dirt, draped over barricades, or hung limply from the cockpits of wrecked Scourges. Dozens of lifeless, blank faces, eyes glazed, blood dripping from their mouths and eyes, their armor charred and pockmarked, their hair and faces covered mud and smoldering skin. The endless plain stretched out behind her, a flat expanse of mud that stretched into a never ending, bleak void of fog.

As her gaze turned across the battlefield once more, she looked down. A few feet from her lay the broken body of Hala, her only friend her whole life, the only family she had left. Ket collapsed to her knees, her suit thunking heavily into the mud, and Ket wished it really would just swallow her up. As she stared at her sister, something inside her died. Her insides seized up, and her heart stopped for a moment, then restarted, but it felt different, as if in that moment her heart had leapt from her body, and someone else’s had taken its place. But this new one was wrong somehow. It was her fault.

Hala had died because she had stood and done nothing.

They had all died because she had done nothing. She had stood, cowering, behind a hollowed-out wreck, while her kin fought and died bravely in her stead. She should be the one who died, not them. She should have an energy sword through her heart, not Hala, brave Hala, who had saved her life, thrown hers away for someone who was too inept to save her. The new heart in Ket’s chest began to feel m ore and more like it belonged, as her face twisted into a scowl, her lips pulling apart and her eyes stinging. She lifted her sister’s lifeless head to her lap and stared down at her body, alone in a graveyard of her kin, a graveyard she had helped make, and rocked back and forth slowly, slow, silent, powerful sobs shooting through her entire body, thick, globular tears splashing down onto her sister’s stoic face, her eyes looking through Ket into the skies above.

“Never again,” she quietly choked out, cradling her lifeless sister in her arms. Never again would she simply stand there while others died. Never again would anyone die in her stead. Never again would she cower, behind a wall and let those around her fall, one by one, while she cringes feebly and refuses to fight. “Never again.”

As Ket whispered these solemn promises, her tears falling to meet the empty face of her dead sister, she brought her hand down across Hala’s eyes, closing them forever, hiding the brilliant violet from the world. She slowly wiped the dirt and blood from her face, leaving it pure and white and perfect, without blemishes or marks- The way it would stay forever.


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## Iron Angel

Sorry about the long hiatus, but Matt Ward gutted the Necron fluff and I have been having to reeducate myself on the "new" Necrons in between tearing out chunks of my hair and screaming at the sky in despair.

I'll have some new stuff up soon.


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## Dave T Hobbit

I hope the changes have not damaged too much of your outline for the future.


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## Serpion5

I love the new fluff. But that discussion belongs elsewhere and has been repeated five times already. :wacko: 

IA, the lore changes what happens well after the timeline of your story, but I do understand your predicament. My own series on the necrontyr fall has suffered a lot from the changes.


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## Iron Angel

CHAPTER 17
UNSHACKLING

“One, two, three- Pull!”

The face of the Sentry came off with a ping and Val and Vier collapsed backwards. They had convinced Mork that they had to reactivate the device to help them analyze the Slann technology. This wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t fully necessary.

Vier simply wanted some insurance in case they all had to die fighting.

Val peered at the innards of the machine’s head. Four major components comprised its brain. Val knew the hardware, but hadn’t done any work with AI or complicated simulated personalities- That was something Vier, however, had a great deal of experience with.

She shook her head immediately after spotting a blackened, charred component. She brushed her hand across it, and a thin patina of ash and char wiped from its surface. Physically, the device was ruined.

“What happened there?” Vier asked, puzzled. He had not anticipated anything so severe. He tapped his finger on the component.

Val sighed. “That’s where the absorption gel made contact. It sucked out all the power in the sentry through this part, and fried it in the process. Its completely ruined. You know what that is right?”

Vier nodded, not taking his eyes off the part. The massive husk of the inactive sentry sat lifeless in front of them, propped up on a ruined engine block by a couple of the Krork. Gork had insisted that the machine have its arms removed, but Vier managed to convince him the machine needed its arms, and that there were a thousand of them to the one machine. If it acted up, they could destroy it with ease. Vier was actually right- The sentry was nowhere near enough to stage a successful escape, and even if they did escape, where would they go except out into the desert to starve?

“That’s the judgement box,” Vier said, tapping his finger on the burnt, spherical piece of metal. Another chunk of char fell from its marred surface, and the shell cracked apart at the impact, made brittle by the heat.

“The behavioral threshold moderator,” Val said dryly.

Vier shrugged. “I believe it’s official name now is junk.”

“And I would have to agree with that conclusion,” Val sighed. She pulled a prybar from her suit’s toolbox and dug it into the framework around the spheroid. With a twist, it tumbled out, hit the floor, bounced, then shattered on the second impact. The delicate innards were completely reduced to ash.

“Well, that’s it then,” Vier spat, annoyed. This whole boondoggle had been useless.

“Not necessarily,” Val said. “Look.”

She pointed to a large crystalline cube, a faintly glowing green with white veins etched through its volume. “This is the crystal data matrix. This is where all the hard data is stored…” she moved her finger to a ribbed coil, wrapped around a complex system of wires. “Which this, the adaptive environment response system processes to make decisions…” She then moved her finger past the empty space the removed part once occupied, to a long bar that held tubed wires, coils, and other electronic assemblies. “And the output system carries those decisions to the rest of the body. “

Vier laughed, then stopped when he saw the look on her face, gazing intently as she did at machinery. “Are you kidding?”

Val glared at him. “Of course not, you old fool. May I ask what is so funny?”

Vier raised one eyebrow. He looked at her for a moment, then sat back. “Well, we have three courses of action.

“First, we can scrap the entire machine. Its damaged, and we can simply get a new one.

“Second, we can reactivate the machine in data-only mode, with its decision making processes disabled. It will be damn near useless in this state, but can carry out basic commands.

“Third, we can bypass the judgment box.”

Val looked at him perplexed. Perhaps he didn’t understand that the third option was already what she wanted to do. “Its called a behavioral threshold moderator. Why don’t we do number three?” Val asked, annoyed by his lack of directness, and lack of official usage in the terms. That level of mechanical organization was the last shred of sanity that remained on this mined out rock, and she wasn’t about to let it go.

Vier shook his head, placing one palm on his forehead. “Look- Alright, do you even know why the judgment box-“

“Behavioral threshold modifier.”

“Piece of ruined junk!” Vier shouted, breathing heavy. Val looked at him, surprised. She had never seen him get upset before, but his violet eyes glared intently at her, his lips clamped together.

He cleared his throat and regained his composure. “The… ‘behavioral threshold moderator’. Do you know its function? Why it was put there?”

Val shook her head. “I assume it’s to layer decisions and execute one of them based on priority or efficiency?”

Vier shook his head. “Know what the things are called but not how they work… No, that’s not it. That occurs inside the decision box-“

Val opened her mouth to speak, but Vier overrode her, knowing she was going to correct him.

“-AND THAT is then passed to the judgment box. Once there, it decides if the decision would harm its masters more than help them, and rejects the option if it does not meet the criteria. Then the second most feasible option is cycled to the front and weighed. This keeps happening until the best option that does not harm its masters comes up, and that order is then passed to the outbox to get executed. Now, I ask you again, why is the judgment box there?”

Val didn’t understand the question. “You aren’t implying that these things kill their masters are you?”

Vier nodded. “Not just that, but they can go on psychotic killing sprees if that is deemed the ‘best approach’ to a situation. You’d be surprised how often an unshackled sentry will kill its masters in the name of self-preservation. Machines don’t think like us. They make decisions based on logic. If logic dictates that a commander’s suicidal last stand is unfeasible, and that the sentry can preserve itself and a handful of others by killing the majority of the soldiers it is with and escaping into the wilderness to wait for backup or rescue, it will slaughter all non-essential personnel, and the commander, then do exactly that- Escape into the wilderness. If it determines the best way to kill a dozen enemy soldiers is to tear open the door to an airlock, which will also kill four friendly soldiers, it will do it, even if there is a good chance the enemy will be defeated. It’s governed by a least harm principle- Thought to be a good idea at first, but ultimately proving to be disastrous to combat. It was already hard coded into the AI, so it couldn’t simply be removed, so the judgment box was added.”

Val looked at the machine, laying limp across a broken engine. It had saved her life, and the lives of everyone. She refused to believe that it would have killed them to save itself. Its metal husk hung from the block, its metallic legs bent awkwardly. She looked at its removed faceplate, and thought it looked kind of sad, almost.

She shook herself out of it. She was getting too personally involved with the machine, adding organic qualities to it.

Vier shook his head. “It’s just equipment. A machine meant to simulate a living creature.”

Val glared at him. “Is Neri just equipment?”

Vier was taken aback. “Neri is not a machine. She is an organic-synthetic fusion, with a Necrontyr brain.”

“So she’s a more complex piece of equipment. Are her thoughts filtered too?”

“Val, listen to me. This is dangerous, this thing you want to do. Neri thinks like a Necrontyr. This… This machine, it thinks like, well, it thinks like a machine.” He said, grasping her by the shoulders.

“I’m going to do it,” she said, resolutely. She wasn’t going to let something that had risked itself to save her sit on this carcass of a planet to decay and fall into ruin with time, alone and forgotten on a barren rock. Even if it was a machine. Even if it was equipment.

“I was afraid you would say that.” Vier said, clenching his eyes shut. “Well, I’ve lived a good, long life. Do it then. If this thing murders us, I’m going to strangle you in whatever afterlife there is.”

Val ignored him, and unhooked the long, coiled white fiber cable from the now-empty housing of the judgment box. She ran it straight to the outbox, hooked the cable in, checked the connections, and, with Vier’s help, replaced the faceplate of the machine. With a mighty shove, they crammed the large metallic plate back onto the broad face of the machine.

Val wiped her hands. “Now we just need to restart the power coils. Get ready.” She was sure she wanted to do this, but was having second thoughts about whether or not it was a good idea.

Vier backed away.

“Three…” Val said, her hands on the master fuse.

“Two…”

Vier cringed slightly.

“One!” she yelled as she pushed the new fuse into place. She hurriedly backed away as the thrumming quickly reached a crescendo. The eyes of the machine illuminated and it jerked its head slightly, its eyes pointing towards them.

Systems are online. All motor functions are operational. Acceptable parameters are met. Resume situation until update.

The machine leapt forward with a startling amount of agility for something so large, knocking over the engine, and crouched on the floor, its claws extended, snapping angrily. It jerked its head back and forth, trying to find the Krork assailants. It slowly realized it was inside a large wooden structure.

Brain functions operational. Error: Inhibition modifiers not present.

Unacceptable parameters. Ping diagnostic system again.

Error: Inhibition modifiers not present.

Val had backed up to Vier, and both stood dumbfounded and terrified at the colossal machine that glared at them, motionless and menacing.

Hardware check.

Behavioral threshold moderator module not present. Inhibition modifiers not present.

The sentry cocked its head to one side, almost quizzically, and its eyes flashed as it scanned them.

Friendlies. Necrontyr. Sinat-Val. Tenet-Vier. Assigned crew.

Nothing else listed. Error confirmed. Inhibition parameters not present. Tenet-vier not assigned master status.

Input:

Do not re-establish parameters. Dismiss error.

The machine slowly lifted into the air, leering down at them as its massive form slowly drifted closer. Its claws reared back and opened, ready to pounce.

Vier, through shallow breaths, managed to squeeze out a single sentence: “I told you so.”

The sentry lunged forward, bringing its right claw in front of it, ready to clamp down on its victim. Val shut her eyes and waited for death, and heard a scream next to her. But it wasn’t Vier who was screaming. She had the sudden sensation of being shoved aside forcefully and collapsed to the ground.

She was overcome by panic, and opened her eyes, struggling to crawl away. Then she realized what had happened.

The sentry had a single Krork gripped by its leg, and was bringing it up into the air, and then slamming it back into the ground, over and over again. The Krork wailed in terror and pain, and his partner stood shrieking, unsure what to do. Eventually, the Sentry’s victim stopped screaming, and with one final, wet thud, the sentry angrily hurled it into the wall and lunged for the second Krork.

Eliminate hostiles. Assigned crew in danger.

Eliminate hostiles. Assigned crew in danger.

Eliminate hostiles. Assigned crew in danger.

Vier leapt between the Sentry and the Krork. His heart beat in his chest so hard his eyes were watering. If the sentry didn’t kill him, a heart attack would.

Disengage. Assigned crew imperiled by actions.

The second Krork stared wide-eyed at the machine, both awestruck and horrified. “Is uh… Is dat yer kill-bot den? Right smashy dat one, heh?” the Krork stuttered nervously, slowly shuffling backwards.

Vier slowly leered at the Krork over his shoulder, and looked at the Krork as though the alien were insane. “Shut. Up. Moron.”

Assigned crew: Tenet-vier. FOF status changed to undetermined.

The Sentry snapped its claws menacingly, a sure sign it wanted Vier to move. It attempted to circle him, but Vier continued to block it, sweating in fear.

“Look, a lot has happened since we left. The krork are our allies now. I order you to stand down.”

Order acknowledged.

Odd. No compulsion to follow.

The sentry continued to single-mindedly eye the two.

Vier swallowed. “Val, back me up here.””

Val snapped out of her stupor . “CM-1, the Krork have disengaged as hostiles and allied with the Necrontyr.” She slowly said, her heart pounding. She wasn’t sure if it would believe her.

Its head swiveled back and forth, looking between Val and the Krork. It sat motionless for several seconds.

Assigned crew: Tenet vier. FOF status changed to friendly.

Force designation: Krork life form. General FOF status changed to undetermined.

WARNING: hostage situation possible. Eliminate hostile and monitor crew reaction.

The sentry dropped out of a combat stance and backed away slightly. Vier exhaled a sigh of relief, hung his head in his hands, and moved to help Val up.

The Krork, still dumbstruck, guffawed loudly. “Dat sure was a close wun, eh Nekkies? I right owe ya fer-“

The Sentry, its joints whining, hurled itself forward. It snatched the Krork by the waist with one claw, its torso by the other, and ripped it in half, all in under a second. It swiveled to face the two Necrontyr, letting the ruined Krork corpse slap to the ground, dark blood pooling around its dead form.

Vier glared at it. “Why did you do that!? Dammit! Now we have to explain this mess to Gork and Mork.” He put one hand on his hip. “How are we supposed to explain this?”

Val brushed herself off. “They came in behind us when they heard the loud crash it made. I assume they were meant to protect us. Clearly Gork either underestimates our sentries or overestimates his troops.”

Force designation: Krork life form. General FOF status temporarily locked to undetermined.

It quickly advanced on them and began to inspect them for damage. Aside from the slight ruffling caused by their transit, however, they were mostly unscathed, and satisfied the two Necrontyr were not deathly ill or mortally wounded, it backed away from them and simply peered at them, its head moving back and forth between them.

Their moment of quiet was disturbed, however, by the door crashing open, and a colossal figure forcing its way through. Val and Vier turned to face it, wide eyed.

“And what is the meaning of this?” Gork growled angrily, his power pole glinting with energy. His eyes slid over each of them, and briefly found the two corpses.

Gork slowly walked forward, his heavy footfalls stirring the dust around his feet. His towering form slowly advanced towards them, sneering. “I let you turn this monstrosity back on because I thought it would help you break down that damn Slann tech. Instead, it murders two of my boys.”

Val felt the sentry’s claws close around her waist, and saw Vier hoisted into the air by the sentry. It threw both of them behind itself, and it spread its arms menacingly, facing the massive Krork. It snapped its claws at him, its eyes glowing malevolently as it squared off against the massive Krork.

Vier coughed feebly. “Stop! It… It thought they were attacking us!”

Gork ignored him, and fixed his gaze on the large machine.

Force commander: Krork. FOF status changed to hostile.

The machine lunged forward, one massive claw reaching for the great Krork warrior. Gork quickly spun to one side and brought his pole over his head, preparing to sever the arm. As he lashed forwards however, his weapon stopped. The sentry tore it from his hands and pinched it in two, the sparking remnants clattering to the floor. Gork roared in rage and launched himself at the sentry, pounding it with his fists. The two spun through the air as the sentry attempted to shake him out of its dead zone, all the while Gork pummeling it. Finally the sentry found grip and ripped the colossal Krork from itself, flinging him unceremoniously across the room. Gork landed on his back, but quickly found his way back to his feet. The two circled each other, arms outstretched.

Val was sweating. Whoever won, they lost. If Gork won, he wouldn’t listen to their explanation, and have all the Necrontyr in the camp killed. If the sentry won, then Mork would surely have their heads, if the rest of the Krork didn’t lynch them all first. 

Gork suddenly leapt forward but was swatted to one side by the sentry. He rolled to his feet, and caught the sentry off guard before it could turn to face him. They continued their brutal melee, and so intense was it that no one noticed Mork coming up behind the two Necrontyr.

Val felt a large hand wrap around her throat, and heard Vier yelling as they were both lifted into the air. Val kicked feebly, grasping at the large hand in a futile attempt to loosen the grip.

The sentry stopped fighting and whirled to face Mork. Gork, still grasping the machine, looked at his brother.

Mork stood motionless, the writhing Necrontyr in his hands. He surveyed the situation. Two dead Krork, his brother and the machine entangled in a melee, and two terrified Necrontyr watching.

The machine twitched in his direction, and Mork gripped a little tighter. Val choked for breath, and Vier panted as he struggled against Mork’s iron grip. The sentry stopped.

“I want an explanation for this.” Mork growled malevolently, his red eyes sliding across them.

Gork dropped from the machine and distanced himself from it, breathing heavily. “Explanataion?” He pointed to the dead Krork. “Right here.”

Mork eyed him. “That may satisfy you, brother, but I do not believe these two would attempt to engineer an escape using a single sentry. Their odds of survival would…” he squeezed a little tighter.

“…Diminish.”

Val tried to choke out the word ‘air’, but couldn’t find any breath. Spots swam in her vision, and she felt light headed. Just before she had the opportunity to pass out, Mork dropped them both. Val fell to the floor, sputtering and coughing as she gulped down as much air as she could. Her neck felt like it had been caught in a vice, but she was happy just to breathe. Before she could do much else, however, she felt herself jerked to her feet by her collar.

“Explain.” Was the only work Mork formed.

Vier, rubbing his neck, still coughing, managed to sputter a few words. “It’s simple, really-“

Mork glared at him, and he fell silent. “Not you. Her.” He narrowed his eyes. “I have seen you. Charismatic. I’m not looking for an embellished tale.”

Val cleared her throat, and after catching her breath, told Mork exactly what had happened, including Vier’s attempt to save the second Krork. She finished her story, her heart hammering in her chest, sure Mork wouldn’t believe such a ridiculous story.

Mork looked at each of them in turn. Then he simply walked over to the two dead Krork, hoisted the corpses onto his shoulders, and moved for the door. “Come, brother. We have preparations to make for tonight. And the aliens need their sleep.”

Gork stared at him in disbelief. His face contorted in rage, and he roared, “They tried to kill me moments ago, and now you’re going to simply walk away!?”

Mork stopped. “It was defending them. Would you not do the same for your boys? You acted before you knew the situation, assuming an escape attempt.”

Gork sneered. “What am I supposed to believe brother? The word of two Necrontyr?”

“How many times do you have to be wrong in one day before you begin to preface your actions with thought, brother?” Mork said over his shoulder and strode from the room.

Gork stared out the doorway, seething, then moved his gaze to the two Necrontyr. The sentry snapped its claws a few more times menacingly. Gork looked at it, enraged, and stomped over to his ruined weapon. He snatched it from the ground, stormed over to the two Necrontyr, and thrust the ruined weapon at them.

“I expect this repaired by tomorrow morning,” he growled.

Val looked at it as though it were an infected wound. “I don’t even know what this is,” she said, irritated. She wrapped her hands around the object; It was huge, and she couldn’t even get her hands all the way around it.

“Then figure it out,” he said, releasing it. It clattered to the floor, taking Val with it, its massive weight far too much for her to carry. Gork shook his head, turning to the exit. He strode towards the door, his feet thudding across the dusty floor. A few final rays of sunlight streamed in through the windows, golden beams projecting to the far wall. Night was approaching, and they had been up all day.

Val sighed, and turned to the sentry. Aside from a few dents and blood stains, it was none the worse for wear. It peered at her, head cocked to one side as it examined her. 


Mork tossed the bodies over the wall, and climbed back down. His brother sneered at him, but Mork ignored him and attempted to walk around him. Gork sidestepped and blocked his path once more.

“I don’t care what you say, or what that traitorous Slann says. I don’t trust them.” He growled. “And neither should you,” he finished, jabbing one finger into Mork’s chest.

Mork looked back at him. “I don’t trust them either. But we have no choice but to believe them for now. We need them as much as they need us. Without us, they starve. Without them, we’re stuck here. So keep your weapon sheathed.”

Gork spat. “let them die. We can find our own way off this rock.”

Mork glared back at him. “Is that so, brother? Are you a ship engineer? Can you make an airtight ship from scrap metal, wood, and glue? Can you make an engine?”

“The Slann wouldn’t have built this ability to get back to them into use without us being able to do it, now would they?” Gork sneered. Mork didn’t even have to say anything- Gork immediately realized Mork had tied him up with his own words, as he did on an irritatingly constant basis.

“So then you do actually believe what the Slann says. Why pick and choose what to believe?” Mork asked, knowing his brother had been tripped up once again.

Gork found himself angry once more with his brother’s smug cleverness. He grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him against the wall. His rage slowly died as he admitted to himself why. “Because I am not fond of us all dying on this blasted rock.”

He released Mork. And backed up slightly, angry at himself.

Mork grabbed him by one shoulder. “I understand, brother. And that is why we must trust them. We will watch them for a time to determine if they are a liability. I believe they would have at least made an attempt to resist by now if their intent was escape. Of course, I am sure they realize that without us they will never get off this ball of dust.”

Gork nodded, and the two stood silent for a moment. Gork inhaled sharply and looked up at the receding color in the sky. “Come, we have preparations to do for tonight.”


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## Iron Angel

The more new fluff I read, the more screwed I realize I am. I already wrote the Krork into my book, even though, according to the new fluff, they don't come into existence until _after_ the Necrons defeat the Old Ones.

Three years of writing invalidated. FML.


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## Serpion5

Keep going. Given the circumstances, why not just ignore the new fluff? You've already stated you aren't fond of it, so you might as well finish what you have here.


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## Dave T Hobbit

I agree; the Krork are very well realised.


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## Iron Angel

I suppose I could do that...

Alright, I suppose I could try to fit some of the new things that can be reasonably added. I know I've been a big baby over the last few days but I'll get over it.


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## Serpion5

There's a good lad. I want this to continue. :so_happy:


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## Serpion5

Because it is the Featured Fiction for March of 2012. :biggrin:


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## Iron Angel

Oh serp. You know just what to say.

I've been taking a break as I rewrite my timeline a bit, getting a feel for it with my other short story series.


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