The confines of the holding bay was filled with dark shadows splayed about the surrounding area. Dim light arced from the lighting panels above not strong enough to erase the inky darkness. Slowly stepping over the random littered floor the Iron Warriors watched with sole intent upon the eerie silence. Subcommander Mortaggè energized his servo arm lifting a fallen column from their immediate path. Just ahead they spied silvery cocooned canisters glowing with a low steady pulsation. "From where did these come? I do not remember this loot as being registered."
"More ill gotten sir." replied Anders. "This vessel is ours now and it's more for the taking." The Techmarine flashed his strobe beam across the bounty revealing a hidden insignia baring a crude black armored fist stenciled over a harsh yellow background.
"Take care." said Mortaggè. "There could still be a few survivors left."
A dull buzzing drone began to fill the vicinity then a shimmering wrinkled space several meters ahead. One by one large hulking Amber shapes materialized. The drone quickly grew to a shrill. "Take cover!" commanded Mortaggè. A thin gaseous vapor leeched from the top of the canisters filling the air with an oily mist. "Phosphex." said the Subcommander in a hushed voice over the vox channel. Those not wearing their helmets keeled over immediately as the radioactive isotope contaminated their lungs turning internal organs into thick soupy sludge. The rest of the remaining Iron Warriors immediately backed away keeping their ranged weapons trained straight ahead.
The Joy Division hung between the immaterial and corporeal states carefully controlled by the unseen operator of the remote teleporter station. They watched in silence as the deadly gas slowly dissolved their enemies' silvered armor. Mortaggè fired his bolter into them but the miniature rockets passed harmlessly through their intermediate state. Warning klaxons screamed inside his helmet as he watched one bright red rune after another light up.
To his right and left more of his brothers fell succumbing to the toxic gas. His armor held though due to perfection of its hermetic seals and the innate stubbornness of his finely tuned refractor field. One of his brothers screamed in abject pain exposed to the raw toxins eating away their exposed nerves. Mortaggè fired a single round through Anders' skull plate to silence him. Only he was left now with his pair of Castellex thralls.
"We were waiting for you." said Androcles, first sergeant of the Imperial Fists terminator command squad. Grimly he smiled from within his bright yellow helmet baring his teeth. "Attack!" Like a lightning bolt cast down from the heavens above the terminators charged through the deadly mist bringing their hammers and fists to bare.
Mortaggè tossed aside his bolter in exchange for his oversized power axe. His robotic thralls covered either side in immediate defense. A plasma blaster barked blowing two big holes through the torso of the thrall to his left. It toppled over and lay flat squirming in its final death throes. The Imperial Fists then engaged them striking quickly. Mortaggè reeled back as the blunt face of a Thunderhammer clipped his helmet smashing one of its ruby eye lenses. Immediately the Phosphex vapor leeched inside through the rent burning his exposed face. Androcles stepped up to his right catching him in a vise grip of bear hug.
The rest of the Joy Division quickly dispatched the remaining thrall raining down one blow after another. Mortaggè fought the urge to cry out then his throat collapsed as he bit through his swollen tongue spitting out the bloody tip.
"Die traitor! I want to watch you die in unbearable pain." Mortaggè's skull began to fold upon itself as his vision grew pitch black.
No comments:
Post a Comment