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The Galaxy is Flood, Not Food by Throwaway1971

Books » Private Rated: M, English, Sci-Fi & Parody, Words: 283k+, Favs: 17, Follows: 14, Published: Nov 22

Chapter 51 - The Bullet That Awaits

Day 36, Continued

The woman who was called Sulla came to a stop. The ones following her were still there, matching her pace for far longer than ordinary humans should have been capable of. She would not be losing them, nor did they show any signs of being slowed by the genestealers that had passed her by.

She was near the base of the outermost hive spires she knew, though she couldn't see the towering structures from the level she was on, which was just one below the surface. The tunnel she was in emptied out into a small chamber lined with pillars made of rockcrete, carved with symbols and lettering denoting the grandeur of the God-Emperor. She checked her pocket to make sure the witch-compass was safe and secure, securing the clasp over it carefully. She exchanged the partially-depleted power pack in her lasgun for a fresh one, sliding it into place with a soft click, then set it to its highest power output.

She wasn't sure how they were tracking her. She'd left no signs of her passing beyond the occasional corpse and the hives were complicated enough that a team of four would have had no hopes of finding even those, let alone catching up to her. She was certain they hadn't planted a tracer on her. Perhaps psychic detection, but both she and her gear should have had warding to ensure such precise divinations would be impossible.

The purestrain genestealer and a few others had noticed her, but that creature had possessed advantages humans simply didn't, even with technology. What that implied to her was dangerous, hence why she'd taken the time to deal with them now, rather than later.

Like a shadow, she took her position behind one of the pillars, the clasp of her combat knife undone, her finger on the trigger of her lasgun.

Tide had made the correct move by surrounding the city, he decided. The genestealers had sent their forces out in mass waves and flanking attacks like against the Guard to try and distract from the pack of purestrains, led by the Patriarch, trying to slip out the back, so to speak. He was surprised by its decision to flee, as that hardly seemed in so strong a Tyranid's nature, but he supposed the infiltrators needed to be different to operate.

Unfortunately for the Patriarch, its escape routes had already been cut off. While the ring was thin, there was still a large enough swarm of Flood present that not only did it have no chance of escaping into the ashen sea, but also large enough that it knew as much.

Hence why Tide got to bear witness to what was possibly a unique moment in the whole of universal history: A Genestealer Patriarch, master of a cult that threatened to consume a whole world, took two steps outside of a secret tunnel in the walls of a hive city, then turned around and booked it back inside, sealing the way just before a swarm of Flood in the shape of insects could scramble inside.

Tide didn't manage to nab the Patriarch, but more than a few of the Patriarch's host had gotten trapped outside. These ones weren't equipped with the right weapons to deal with a swarm of creepy-crawlies and had stood no chance against his critters.

A few minutes later, he turned the generous gift from the genestealers into combat forms currently focused on cutting through the plasteel of the hidden door with their wickedly sharp claws. He doubted they'd get through in time to catch the Patriarch, but they'd help reduce the area it could flee to. If he were the Patriarch, he'd have already started moving towards the Underhive and try and hole up there.

Then again, the top of the hive spires would probably be better defended. Although… Tide had to admit, he'd been surprised by the odd layout of forces. They'd focused the vast majority of them in the tunnel leading south, to the now entirely Flood-controlled hives of Enyo and Limos. He'd suspected they'd set up some kind of hard defenses, but they'd over done it and placed the bulk of their forces there with only a few defenders in other sections. Genestealers weren't really known for last stands, at least as far as he knew, and having so many close together could easily work against them if Tide had attacked the way they were no doubt expecting, given the kinds of weapons they'd prepared for his attack, which focused on dealing with large numbers of tiny enemies like his insects.

Using a flamer, much less a plasma or melta gun, in close quarters was not ideal. If he'd been in control of them, he'd have had a few hard defenses in the tunnels, but focused more of them in the upper levels of the hive spires. Those were the most defended sections of any hive. Had the genestealers ruined those defenses when they took over? Or were they afraid of another aerial attack?

He couldn't really make sense of their actions, especially the decision to entirely abandon the spires from the looks of things. Based off the enhanced senses a certain unit of ODST's were borrowing from the Purestrain's genetics to aid in tracking a wayward guardswoman, there hadn't been any genestealers in the area around them in days, maybe even longer.

The other two cities had the bulk of their forces in the spires, so why was this one the opposite? Was it just a strategy to fight him or something more?

Regardless of the reasoning, a benefit of this was that it made it far easier to track Sulla through the mire of the hive city. She was moving fast, faster than a human should have been capable of, which told him quite a bit. He hoped he was wrong, for a number of reasons. He wouldn't know until he caught up with her, something she seemed disinclined to allow.

All the same, he made sure the face of one of his ODST's was properly prepared and double-checked the memories of the man he'd be playing the role of.

Sulla was consistently a few minutes ahead of them… until she wasn't. The ODST's came to a slow stop as they entered a small chamber with many pillars lining it. An excellent pick for an ambush and, based off the fact that Sulla's scent was heavy in it, she had thought the same.

One of the ODST's removed his helmet, revealing auburn hair, a pale face, and chestnut eyes. "Sulla!" The ODST called in a carefully prepared voice. "It's Orion!"

Without hesitation, the woman who was not Sulla emerged and fired her lasgun straight into the skull of the man who was not her brother. The puppet dropped to the ground, a smoking hole burned straight through one of its eyes.

And there was the confirmation. Orion and Sulla, brother and sister from Malum. The former was currently in the Malum's PDF, one of the few non-puppets left. The latter had been accepted into the Guard, an honor for her and something her brother had celebrated with her. They hadn't spoken since… and Tide was pretty sure he knew what had been done to her to keep her from showing up at an inopportune moment.

And he was more than a little angry about it.

The three ODST's raised their weapons in an instant, but not-Sulla had already taken aim and fired another shot, slicing through the gap between helmet and chestplate of another ODST and dropping it as well. Autogun rounds sliced through the air where not-Sulla had been a moment earlier as she ducked back behind the pillar, moving faster than humanly possible.

The ODST's rush to cover and the fake emerges again, opening fire on both puppets, every shot landing, slamming into them like crashing waves. Both keep their feet anyways, their armor absorbing the brunt of the damage, opening fire on her. One aims for her torso, the other for her weapon. Neither hit, as she spins back around her pillar again, their shots chipping away bits of rockrete from the pillars.

One of the ODST's rushes forward, careful to keep the pillars between it and the fake, while the other maintains a constant hail of fire, covering the sound of its comrade's footsteps. Or it would have, in the case of an ordinary person's ears.

The ODST rounds the pillar where the fake had hidden, only to find her gone. In an instant, Tide knows what she's done and points the trooper's weapon upwards, but its too late. The fake descends down like an avian diving down upon its prey, a combat knife burying itself into the ODST's neck, cutting through the throat, the trachea…

But not the spine.

The fake is not prepared for the ODST that should have collapsed dead to suddenly swing around with a backfist, taking her in the stomach with enough force to not only fold her around it like a piece of flimsy, but also to launch her, slamming her into another pillar with enough force to send cracks running through the rockrete, while her lasgun was ripped from her hands and sent spinning across the floor.

Tide pauses his attack for just a moment, believing the fight to be over. He makes the same mistake as she just had and realizes it too late.

She's up in an instant and he watches as Sulla's flesh seems to writhe and shift. Her armor detaches and falls away like shed skin. In one moment, a Guardswoman stood before him. In the next, a Callidus Assassin, her blade emerging like a glowing green crystal that grew from her gauntlet and shimmered with fell light.

At that moment, another pod, filled with another sixteen ODST's, slipped out of reality and then back into it, taking up the center of the chamber.

The Callidus ducked, the long braid of her red hair slicing through the air like a whip, just as a flurry of autogun rounds slashed through the space where she'd been moments earlier. Taking the opportunity to crouch, she bolted forwards, her blade cutting through the legs of the black-armored thing she'd thought she'd killed earlier. Whatever it was, it did not seem intent on hiding its true nature anymore. Gloved hands reached out for her, but she was already flipping out of reach as its companions turned to fire. They were fast, faster than humans, but she was faster by far.

With the grace of a predator fish, she darted through the chamber, no longer held back by the armor or the need to maintain her disguise. Her blade gleamed, passing through the air, flesh, and rockrete with not even a whisper and all with the same ease. Trooper after trooper fell, collapsing in pieces. They didn't scream or cry out in pain, as humans did when they died. That might have unsettled some and, in a way, even the Callidus felt something akin to concern. Not for herself, but for her mission.

Four of the troopers charged her, drawing combat knives, but clearly intent more on sacrificing themselves in an attempt to try and let at least one of them grab her. The attack that had landed on her, smashed her against the rockrete, had been luck and, as much as she hated to admit it, overconfidence on her end. That wouldn't happen again. Every strike she made was not just lethal, but would make sure they couldn't get up again.

She leapt over the charging soldiers, her blade arcing through the air like a scimitar, reaping their heads and lives with a single sweep of her arm. She landed, then darted to the side, coming behind a pillar just as more rounds of fire struck at where she had been not a moment earlier. Eight remained, seeming to have learned the follies of close quarters and instead favoring their ranged weapons.

The rockrete chipped and broke under their sustained volleys. They were coordinating, making sure they each had time to reload without letting up on the barrage, even as they began to spread out. If she did nothing, even she could be cut to ribbons by such weapons. There were ways she could get out of this, of course, but none would be expedient towards her mission. None except…

A part of her, a small part of her that still held some shred or semblance of pride, was annoyed at what she did next. However, it was for the sake of the mission and all else was meaningless before that.

"Assist," She said.

Like a prayer answered, there was the sound of rockrete shattering as the ceiling exploded apart and an adamantine-jacketed bullet punched down with the fury of a smiting inflicted by an angry god, passing with laughable ease through the helmet of one of the troopers, cracking carapace armor with the ease of a soap bubble.

By the time the second smiting came, the troopers had barely had the chance to tilt their heads upwards. By the third, the Callidus was among the rest of them, her phase-blade slicing them apart. With the fourth, the Callidus alone still stood in the chamber.

The Vindicare had noted the heat signature of the Callidus drop from his scope. Not surprising, given the circumstances. The layers of rockrete between him and her was of little issue to the augurs of his Exitus Rifle, but now that she had reverted to her true form, the suit of the Callidus' own methods of avoiding detection were now posing the largest issue. It was not helped that his own position was far from ideal, though that had hardly proven a problem for him.

The Vindicare Assassin hung off the wing of the Valkyrie, only a harness and boots magnetically sealed to the hull of the craft keeping him from falling kilometers to his death, his rifle pointed down unwaveringly. The craft was positioned carefully, hovering at the lowest possible point within the cloud banks that hung over Whiro, where the emissions of its twin vectored engines would not be noticed by any augurs, nor would the craft's signature be seen by auspexes either mechanical or flesh unless they were as exceptional as those in the rifle the Vindicare wielded.

At least, they wouldn't have had a chance if he hadn't just fired four shots down upon the Callidus' tails. Anyone with auspexes directed towards his location, which the Malum PDF's almost certainly would be by now since he'd just shot several of their special forces, assuming competence, would be able to make out the diminishing heat trails left in the wake of his rifle's spent ammo.

Fortunately, the pilot was as competent as the rest of them were, even if piloting wasn't their usual calling, moving the hovering aircraft into another section of the cloud cover. Meanwhile, the Vindicare scoped out the rest of the Malum forces and their location. While they had a strange kind of teleportation unknown to him, they seemed to be limited in the number of those pods they could deliver, or they would have sent more to attack the Callidus after their initial force was killed.

Probably.

The Vindicare didn't like 'probably'. None of them did, but this mission had been different from the usual kind for all sorts of reasons. Everything had been going according to plan until a little over a month ago, when the tarot seer had up and died, his brain frying in his skull as a psychic scream ripped through space and time like a rabid animal tearing into a carcass. Around the same time as that mysterious, distant tear in space had appeared and the warp storm exploded with its fury.

That was the first sign of things taking a turn for the worse. While the Chaos and Genestealer cults had been warned about, their uprisings had come too quickly. With extraction impossible for as long as the Warp Storm was present, they'd been forced to wait until the witch-compass became active to guide them to the target. Then there had been that situation with the Orks, something not prophesied at all.

But that didn't matter to the Vindicare at the moment. With a mind as sharp and disciplined as a monomolecular blade, he was entirely focused on what he was seeing in his scope.

The genestealers weren't a nonthreat, but the force from Malum seemed intent on eradicating them to the last, sweeping through the tunnels and corridors. Strangely, they didn't seem to leave any bodies behind them, as there were no diminishing heat signatures that he could trace. Instead, the genestealer signatures seemed to join the PDF in the assault, as though they were turning on their allies. Some kind of mind control?

It was clear the PDF was the larger threat to the mission. Already, it had redeployed itself with such speed that, had he been slower in checking on them, he might have thought their forces were already distributed in such a manner and hadn't changed at all. In one area that had been the spearpoint of their advance against the genestealers, he noted an odd build-up of heat, akin to a large number of people packing themselves together, though there was no clear reason to do so. Only a single heat signature remained apart, one that possessed a powerful energy source within it as well. Powered armor, the Vindicare suspected.

Elsewhere, and more pressingly, a large contingent of PDF, over a thousand based off his auspex scans, were now moving towards the hive spires with an inhuman swiftness. Those kind of numbers would probably be enough to neutralize the Callidus, if they caught her in the open.

Assuming they ever got that far. With a command to the craft's machine spirit sent via his mask, the Valkyrie's bay doors opened with a subdued hum, while a crane-like appendage extended outwards, dragging its cargo free and suspending it over the hive, much like the Vindicare himself was suspended. By the time it'd fully extended, he'd almost finished readying its occupant's orders.