Getting Warhammered - [ 137 ] (Patreon)

“Will that be enough to sustain you?” asked Trazyn, his perceptive green gaze roaming over my new form.

“For a while,” I said. “It’s still a paltry amount, Astartes genetics are rotting and coming apart at the seams after all these centuries. Hardly that much bio-energy in these, but I should be able to function at full capacity — in my previous form — for … about half a minute.”

“How powerful would that form be?” he asked, musing aloud. “And would that be the most powerful form you could take?”

“The previous form could probably rival a weakened, unarmed Custodes,” I said, remembering the capabilities of that prototype Psyker Form. “And no, that one is far from my most powerful one. Though you’ll have to cough up about five thousand more Marines like this one for me to build that body. I don’t suppose you have that lying around?”

“No,” he said, tapping his fingertips on his metallic chin. “You said Tyranid biomass works best, how many Termagants would that form cost?”

[Answer: 984]

“Around a thousand,” I said. “Tenth that in Hive Tyrants, approximately. OR a single Norn Queen. Those are extremely nutritious, surprisingly enough.”

“I believe I do have something that could work,” he said evenly. “Alas, I’d be loathe to waste it should we be able to accomplish my goals here without it. Let it be a last resort, and emergency measure, if you will.”

“You do you,” I shrugged. “But I’m not letting this avatar fall into the hands of the Imperium. If I believe it is going to get captured or destroyed, I’ll self-destruct.”

“I understand,” he nodded. “Though I believe it won’t come down to it. It’s doubtful anything tougher than a Space Marine is going to stand in our way. This should be a quick, easy in-and-out.”

Not if my bad luck has anything to say about it. I mused. Or that bitch Fate. She seems to have something against me lately … or more like my whole life. 

I cracked my neck and rolled my shoulders, a superficial gesture, but it put me into the right mindspace. 

“Lead the way then.”

*****

“This might prove to be a problem,” Trazyn whispered, hiding under some cloaking tech of his own while I stood patiently at the back of a hundred strong, fully armoured Salamander crowd. “Perhaps bringing you was the problem, I wasn’t aware you were so …  popular.”

“Eh,” I shrugged inwardly, responding in a whisper made by vibrating the air with my soul energy. “He won’t be much of a problem. Look at him, he doesn’t even know I’m right here, though I wonder how exactly he knew to track me here … worrying. Still, it could be fun to see how close I could get to him without him knowing.”

“Please,” Trazyn said with what I assumed was a roll of his eyes. “We have an objective here, do not jeopardise my quest with your whims.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” I answered with a smile in my voice. “Just slipping under his notice will be fun enough. What’s your plan anyway?”

“Follow them,” said Trazyn. “There is supposed to be a crypt under this base, and our target should be hidden away behind a round of riddles and whatever else, but only these Astartes of Vulcan’s progeny know how to open up the crypt itself.”

“And you need me for this?” I asked, actually curious about why he pulled me out of stasis if he had that fancy cloaking tech of his. 

“Take this as both a precaution and a preliminary experiment of seeing how effective you are on a search and retrieve mission,” he said. Which is to say, he was just testing me out like I was some new toy he just got. Oh well, whatever. I got myself some hand-delivered fun side adventure into some ancient crypt. I couldn’t really find it in myself to feel put off, quite the opposite. 

“Sounds good,” I said. As we spoke, I watched the golden giant stand next to the Salamander Captain, arguing about something inane. The Custodian was telling the Captain that he should assist him in finding a ‘strange alien woman with white hair’ — I wonder who that could be? — while the Captain was retorting that he couldn’t give less of a shit about some exotic Xeno with Vulcan’s Artefact being within arm’s reach.

“I am telling you, Custodian, that if there were any such aliens present in this very base, my men would have caught wind of it.”

Right. I rolled my eyes. I basically just walked in and these bunch of idiots didn’t even notice. I barely had to use some telepathic suggestions even to ward off suspicion.

“I am not putting doubt into the capabilities of your men,” said the Custodian. “I am merely pointing out the fact that the xeno I am pursuing is capable enough to evade them. It has managed to evade capture by my battle-brothers for months now, after all.”

Have I really? 

“I very much doubt it would have any reason to come here. This world is dead as can be, it has nothing besides rock, magma and metal. And we have a mission here, if accompanying us on it helps in your own mission, then you are of course welcome, but our objective takes precedence for my men. I cannot spare any resources to assist you in your hunt.”

“That is agreeable,” said the Custodian. “If it is here, I have no doubt it’s after the same thing you are.”

Spot on you are, my golden friend.

“That would be the last mistake it makes.” The Captain said gravely, giving a nod to the Custodian before turning back to the crowd.

Doubtful.

“We will not let this derail our mission,” the Captain raised his voice. “Today is the day, the only day of this century on which we have a chance at opening the ancient crypts below this fortress. This is the finish line, we have hunted across the stars for the ‘key’ and today we will finally put it into its lock and claim the legacy of our Primarch. Onwards.”

There was a roar from the crowd as the Captain strode through it with conviction, then we all fell in step behind him in formation and followed as he led us down into twisting circular stairways leading into the depths of the mountain. 

I glanced at the Custodian trailing behind us, dressed in full battle regalia and grasping his guardian spear in hand. No nasty surprises apparent, I should be able to handle a Custodian without Shadowkeeper toys. Well, if I can get some more bio-energy, this avatar is still running on fumes.

I could have pulled out some from my ‘emergency reserves’ stashed away in my Realm, but this didn’t quite feel like enough of an emergency to warrant that. Plus, I was sure half the planet would feel me opening a warp gate to pull the bio-energy through. Which was a huge yikes, especially if the golden boyscout was followed by his more dangerous, broody brothers.

Stealth will be the key here. I can do stealth. Yep. Totally won’t mess this up.

*****

Octavian

“Honoured Custodian,” one of the Marines breaks away from the back of their formation and slows to fall into step next to Octavian. “Might I bother you for a question?”

Might as well. Octavian thought. “What is it?”

“Why are you so certain this Xeno is here?” The Salamander asked.

Octavian turned his head, gazing at the Salamander impassively for a moment. The man was entirely unbothered by his gaze, which the Custodian found half-way worthy of respect. 

“Some of us dream of the Emperor’s will,” Octavian said. “His orders come as symbolic visions, or clear instructions usually, but at times they are more nuanced … I myself have what is a compass, pointing me at what my Lord wants and that compass is aimed at this fortress.”

“I see,” the Marine said. “I’m honoured that you shared this knowledge with me, even if on a whim.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Where could she be? Octavian wondered, barely paying attention to the lazily strutting Space Marine next to him. I’m sure she is in this building. I circled around and my inner compass points here. 

Unfortunately, it went almost entirely silent a while back and was merely giving him a vague feeling that he was in the right place. 

She’ll show herself sooner or later. That woman doesn’t have a single subtle bone in her body.

*****

“I believe this is what humans call ‘tempting fate’.”

“So they do,” I whispered. “But now I know his Emperor is somehow tracking me and giving my vague location to him. That’s just poor sportsmanship.”

“True omniscience is impossible,” said Trazyn with conviction. “No gods, dead or alive, had ever seen everything. A human won’t be the one to accomplish what they could not. However he is tracking you, must have a way to defend against.”

“Probably,” I said, squinting in thought. Perhaps indeed. Would a Shadow keep him from seeing me? Hmmm. I could probably build some Tyranids into my eventual base to have a Shadow covering it, couldn’t I? It would also allow me to tap into the Warp to recharge with some level of safety.

[‘Attempt the creation of an artificial Shadow in the Warp’ has been added to the To-Do list.]

Thanks. That would have to do for now, I didn’t have time or even the space to experiment at the moment with one of my avatars being on this mission and the other currently streaking through space faster than light.

“So it is time,” I caught the Captain whispering as he stepped up to a gigantic monument shaped into the aged iron-looking wall. The space we stood in was cavernous, the entire base the Salamanders used here having been carved into a titanic mountain and we’d been descending on the gently sloping hallways for an hour at this point. “Bring the key.”

I watched with rapt attention, probably being only slightly less enthused about being here than Trazyn next to me who I could tell was engraving every minute detail of this historic moment into his memory. A squad of marines in fancier armour than the rest stepped forth, surrounded by a pair of Librarians wielding staffs that could have doubled for lamp-posts with how large they were. They held up a large, metallic chest, heaving even as four marines grasped its four corners to hold it up and brought it before the Captain.

“Put it down,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper and I could hear the emotion tinting every syllable even as he spoke through his helmet. 

Every single soul hung in suspense, waiting for the grand … something to happen. Alas, reality was not always a perfect factory for dramatics and we had to watch on as the captain struggled to extract his hand from his gauntlet for a good minute before he finally managed to place it upon some biometric verifier atop the box.

“Do you think that thing takes his palm-print too, or is it just genetic data like their dataslates?” I asked Trazyn, leaning over to him to whisper controversially. 

“There could be,” he said, distracted. “Whatever artefact this ‘Key’ is, it should be ancient for them. Palm-print recognition is far too primitive and easy to circumvent in this day and age, even for the Imperium.”

“Hmm, then he could have just spit on it,” I whispered. “If all the thing needed was a genetic sample.”

“That would have been crass,” he said. “Ruining the moment … though I suppose this ruined it plenty either way.”

“Guilliman does it that way,” I hummed. 

“Does he?” Trazyn asked with interest clear in his voice. “I didn’t have the pleasure of laying my eyes on the Primarch as of now. Is he truly back as the rumours suggest? Or do you reckon it’s a clone?”

“You’ve caught this avatar on Baal,” I glanced at him in bemusement. “He was on Baal, at the exact same time as I was. Not even that far away from where you threw me into your Labyrinth.”

“Ah,” he froze. “Unfortunate. What a missed opportunity … adding the Lord of Ultramar to my Macragge exhibit would have been the catch of the millennium.”

“That it would have been,” I said. “If you could actually catch him, he is quite strong, especially with the Emperor’s sword he carries around all day and the Armour of Fate he can’t live without.”

“TODAY MY BROTHERS, WE RECLAIM AN ARTEFACT OF VULKAN! TODAY, WE ARE TAKING A STEP TOWARDS FULFILLING THE PROPHECY, TOWARDS REVIVING OUR GENESIRE!”

Thunderous shouts echoed in the darkness, making the very ground beneath our feet tremble. The captain held up a large metallic key that looked oversized even in his gigantic hand and as he finished his speech, pushed it up against a lock carving on the wall.

I dismissed the sound-dampening field I had up around myself and Trazyn and squinted, watching on as the wall shifted and moved before it swallowed up the key, ripping it out of the captain’s grasp. Waves flowed over the thousands of carvings, sculptures and motifs on the wall, and then it moved, splitting in the middle before peeling back.

A dim red glow illuminated the dark caverns revealed behind it as a warm, steaming gust of air surged out from the opening.

Vulkan, Vulcanis System, Artefacts of Vulkan, should have expected the crypt to be built into an active volcano. 

“FOLLOW ME BROTHERS! FOR VULKAN!”

“””“FOR VULCAN!””””