Village Life
A darkness so unnaturally deep it seems to pull in any light that tries to seep from the window edges and under the doors of the sleepy village in the valley below. All is quiet, peaceful. But gradually shapes peel themselves from the blackness, bulky shapes that have no right to move so stealthily.
“Safeties off, 2nd Squad to the defilade by that track to the East, 3rd Squad a ring to the North West, don’t want anyone making those trees ! First, on me.
T-5 and counting, and use the knives first, no shooting until or unless imperative. Understood ?”
“2nd A OK !”
“3rd, ditto “
The shapes fan out, their blackened steel blades as satin in the blackness. Armour servo’s are re-dampened as they move further within the artificial Grav Field, their joints smoothed to perfection with an entire half-cycles duty spent buffing them with lapping powder. Those helmet less have their faces smeared with camolene to blend with the dark, only the whites of their eyes seemingly peer out of nothingness.
“T-4 !”
They spread out further, a gun line to the North West and a fire trap to the East where a solitary track leaves the village. All freeze, as the heavy clouds briefly skirt the blood-moon before the blackness floods back. Eyes blink open, night vision retained at 100%, the 1st Squad creep ever closer,
“T-3 and..”
There is a metallic click, and all eyes look at Doran, 1st Squad’s rookie and so probable cause. The others know one another and their grisly trade to well to be the source of the sound.
“Doran, shut the F%$k-up !”, Sergeant Karman hisses through his vox”
“Not me Sergeant”, Doran hisses back.
Suddenly, a single Cylinder rises from the earth some 20 meters in front of them and they are bathed in a sickly Green light.
“Fire pattern 02-Delta“, cries Karman, at which half of 1st bring their Bolters to bear on the Cylinder in a fury of mass-reactive rounds that should have torn the thing to shreds. But none of then hit, they appeared to detonate whilst still 4 or 5 foot short of their intended target, seemingly bursting in mid air ?
All around, every House is plunged into darkness and heavy Ceramite Security Shutters drop into place on more affluent properties.
“Sergeant”, calls Harman, the Company Communications Operative, “Just intercepted a call to the PDF, jammed it so no worries.”
“A-1, now switch to hi-ex mags, re-call 02-Delta, call 07- Alpha from prone.”
The whole of 1st Squad drop to the ground as one, slamming fresh magazines into their Bolters, before all members now target the Cylinder with storm of high-explosive Bolts.
For a brief moment the smoke and exploding rounds completely obscure the Cylinder from view, but when they disperse, the improbable is their reality, the Cylinder still stands with not so much as a scratch.
“Cease fire, 2nd give me the Las, 3 bursts, on full.”
No sooner said than a beam of green light pierces the darkness and contacts the Cylinder. The greens meld, the Cylinder briefly glows more vividly, then, nothing, nor for the 2nd or 3rd shots,
“What the hell is that thing, we didn’t bring “Betty” did we ?”
“No Sergeant. “ Voxes Lorimar, 1st Squads Heavy Weapons Specialist, “WE didn’t expect any Armour, so no need for the Melta, we agreed it would just be a hindrance, we….”
“Alright Lorimar I know, I was there right !”
“Yes Sergeant, sorry Sergeant, but I did take the liberty of bringing this,” at which Lorimar tossed Sergeant Karman a Melta-Bomb,
“Sweet, I’ll remember that initiative Lorimar, right, suppressing fire on me, then heads down,” And with that, Sergeant Karman was on his feet, zigzagging forwards before dropping behind a low stone wall as he flipped the arming leaver and sent the Melta-Bomb spiralling off on a graceful arc towards the Cylinder.
“Fire in the Hold”, he yelled, before pressing himself flat against the wall and covering his face and eyes with his arms.
There was a dull thump, followed by what felt like a great inhalation of air. Then there was the flash, like the birth of a sun, so bright, Sergeant Karman swore he could see it through his armoured arms and the stones of the wall. This was then followed by a keening noise like the Hydraulic hiss of a hundred Landraider Assault Ramps deploying, accompanied by a wave of heat, so intense it set light to any combustible material within a 15 foot radius, scorching and melting all that did not burn.
“Try that on for si…” the words failed in Karman’s throat as he saw the cylinder, steaming, but otherwise seemingly un-marked.
“This is beyond funny, no reports of extra-tech in this shite-hole berg was there Harman ?”
“No Sergeant, just a few side-arms, possibly one or two reasonable hunting Rifles, is all.”
“Then what in the Emperors’ name is that thing that’s screwed up my mission ? Tell you one thing, I’ll make damn sure we get paid in full, not counting this as a failure, I’ll make damn sure we ….”
A noise from the Cylinder cut him dead, All eyes swivelled, as a door in the side opened.
“My turn now Gentlemen I believe,” rasped a strange hollow voice as a figure stepped out into the Green-glow.
“Fire pattern 00-Alp….aargh”, Sergeant Karman clutched his head as an inscrutiating Pain ripped though his skull whilst all around him, his consciousness’ straining, he watched 1st Squad drop like scythed wheat.“What do you waaa..”
“Want, what do I WANT ? You, who would sneak into MY village, like a thief, to STEAL the lives of MY people as they SLEPT ? What, pray, do you think I’d WANT ?”Sergeant Karman, or what was left of the man they remembered, walked into the Town of Faith some four days later. Pale and drawn, he had visibly aged and grey hairs now covered his head. He had no knowledge of what had happened, nor who he was. No longer a mercenary, just one of Zalthar’s hundreds of down and outs.
No comments:
Post a Comment