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Da Portal of Darkness Chapta 4 | |
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Da Portal Of Darkness Chapta 4 |
Hazug looked again at the growing group of humans standing further along the road. There were about a dozen of them now, the human Jaris had met the first of them to arrive, and each new arrival in turn then made their way to join them. As far as Hazug could tell, most of the humans were what they termed ‘male’, being larger and more muscular, and all of them were armed with a pistol holstered at their waist or shoulder. Hazug guessed that these were the survivors of the group led by the man Thayne, who had still not returned. Hazug then turned his attention back to the police station that was still alight. He was beginning to wonder if there would be anything left of the burning building when he finally heard the deep rumble of a engine that powered a large vehicle and he looked around to see Ratish waving at him from an open topped wheeled vehicle being driven towards him by mek Batrug. Towards the rear of the vehicle, Hazug could see numerous other gretchin clinging on. Mek Batrug had worked for Hazug on several occasions, providing him with technical advice and supplying him with the best ork technology that Hazug could afford to pay for up front, and it looked like the mekboy as going to come through for him again. “Ratish got da mekboy master!” Ratish shouted gleefully as he jumped down from the vehicle when mek Batrug parked it beside Hazug’s own truck. Unfortunately, had the gretchin paid more attention to his jumping than his boasting he probably wouldn’t have landed on his face. “Aw!” he cried as he bit down on his tongue. Hazug ignored Ratish picking himself up, rubbing his tongue as he did so, while Rhia and Sophie both smirked at his misfortune. Drazzok, on the other hand, laughed out loud. “Stupid grot,” the weirdboy added, always happy to get entertainment from the misfortune of others, especially if it looked painful. “What can ya do about dis?” Hazug asked mek Batrug as the mekboy disembarked. “Ya grot filled me in,” Batrug replied, “so I borrowed some special kit for putting out fires,” then he walked towards the back of his vehicle, “Right ya grots!” he shouted at his staff, “unload dis stuff and get it set up!” The gretchin, hurried along by swings of mek Batrug’s fists when they got too close to him or weren’t fats enough to move away from him, immediately began to unload the vehicle. Though Hazug was not a mechaniak himself, he had seen enough force field emitters in his time to know one when he saw one, and the gretchin were unloading four of them. “Wot d’ya need a force field generator for?” Hazug asked. “Force field?” scoffed Drazzok, “I always knew ya was a wazzok Batrug, we want’s da fire puttin’ out, not protectin’ from getting’ shot at.” “Dis is a special force field,” mek Batrug explained as his gretchin set up the four emitters to form a square around the burning police headquarters, “It ain’t strong enough to keep out bullets, it just keeps out da air. Without da air da fire gets put out. Dis is goin’ to be put at da landin’ strip to stop all da fuel fires dare. Now get out me way while I plug dem emitters into da wagon for power. When I tells ya to, ‘ave ya grot throw dat switch over dare,” and mek Batrug indicated a massive lever that was mounted on the dashboard of the vehicle he had driven here before grabbing the ends of some cables attached further back on the vehicle and dragging them towards the equipment being set up by his servants. Hazug watched while Batrug connected all of the force field generators to the cables he carried, and then saw him turn and wave. “Ratish,” Hazug said, “throw da switch.” “Gotta adjust da size of da force field,” he said, “its too big as it is,” then he reached towards a dial on the dashboard and began to turn it slowly. The plume of smoke that had been rising over the burning building was suddenly cut off as the particles of ash were trapped within the force field, and as mek Batrug carefully reduced the size of the bubble of energy, it could be seen that it was rapidly filling up with the smoke. “Look at the flames!” Sophie shouted, pointing towards the windows of the building where the fire had been clearly visible. Now, cut off from the outside air and choked by the smoke that the fire itself had created, the flames were reducing in size. Then, in less than a minute, they disappeared entirely. “See! Job’s a good ‘un!” mek Batrug yelled. Hazug had to admit that the machinery brought by mek Batrug had done the job he said that it would. The fire was out. “Nice one Batrug,” Hazug told the mekboy as he walked back towards the Blood Axe. “Pah!” Drazzok exclaimed, “Puttin’ out fires is grot’s work.” “Grot’s with water can put a fire out for ya,” Batrug said in response to Drazzok’s insult, “but dey can’t do it without an ‘ole bunch of ‘em chuckin’ water and sand over everythin’ in sight, and let’s see ya figure out wot started it after dat.” Drazzok just grunted in response, knowing that the mekboy was right but unwilling to admit it. “So wot ‘appened den Batrug?” Hazug asked. ”Ow should I know?” Batrug replied, “I aint been in dare yet, I gotta figure out where da fire started first, den I’ll figure out wot started it.” Standing in the street behind the ruined police station, Nomgrim had taken his job of guarding the burning building seriously and was now trying to figure out what to do about the fact that the flames had disappeared. The best he could come up with so far was that if anyone asked where the flames had gone, he would simply tell them that they hadn’t gone past him. Suddenly he became aware that he was being watched and he spun around to face whoever it was. At first he saw no one, but then he glanced downwards and saw a very short human staring at him in silence. This particular human had a rounder face than the other Nomgrim had seen today, and was sucking on something that was on the end of a short stick. Nomgrim guessed that this must be whatever humans had instead of gretchin; perhaps it had come to try and put out the fire. Of course, the fire was out now so there was no clear reason why the human was still here. “Wot d’ya want?” Nomgrim asked, but the human remained silent and just stared Nomgrim in the eyes. “I don’t want nothin’,” came a cry from beside Nomgrim. “I wasn’t talkin’ to ya Wakgrak,” Nomgrim shouted back without breaking eye contact from the human, “I was talkin’ to dis git ‘ere.” “Wot git?” Wakgrak asked as he walked over to stand beside Nomgrim, “Oh. Wot’s ‘e lookin’ at?” and Wakgrak now joined his fellow madboy staring the human in the eyes. “I dunno,” Nomgrim replied, “I tried askin’ ‘im but ‘e didn’t say anythin’.” The two madboys and the human child now just stood there in silence staring at one another. “Nomgrim! Wakgrak! Wotcha doin’?” Thuggrim’s voice bellowed from behind them. “Nothin’ boss,” Nomgrim responded, still not taking his eyes off the child. “Well ya both look like ya is up to somethin’ standin’ like dat,” Thuggrim said, striding up to the pair and standing directly between them. “Wot’s goin’ on ‘ere den?” he added when he saw the child. “Dunno boss,” Wakgrak answered. “I reckon it’s a git grot boss,” Nomgrim added, all the while staring the child in the eyes as it looked back at him. “Wot’s it doin’ ‘ere?” Thuggrim asked, his speech slower than before, as he too began to stare at the child. “Dunno, ‘e wouldn’t say,” Nomgrim answered, “I tried askin’.” “Wotcha want?” Thuggrim shouted at the child, but he didn’t flinched. As with the two smaller madboys, it did not occur to Thuggrim that the child did not understand the ork language. “Waaargh!” Thuggrim bellowed, leaning towards the child. Again the child just stared at the orks. “Wot do we do now boss?” Wakgrak asked. “Stay calm lads,” Thuggrim said calmly, “We is bigger dan ‘im, we
can ‘andle dis.” “I know dat lad, but ‘e’s starin’ real ‘ard and I intend to show dat I is ‘arder.” Thuggrim now just stared at the child just as the two smaller orks had been doing when he approached them, and the child continued to stare back. The, for just a moment it removed what it was sucking from his mouth, revealing a brightly coloured ball fixed to the end of the stick, glanced at that and then put it back in mouth and stared at the orks once more. “Soddit. I though we ‘ad ‘im dare lads,” Thuggrim said, then a thought hit him and he added, “Nomgrim, go get da rest of da lads. We’ll show dis git grot who stares best around ‘ere.” Accompanied by the last of his constables that had been away from the police headquarters when it was destroyed, Dariel Thayne ran towards the clustered group of survivors. “That’s everyone,” Thayne said, bending over and gasping for breath when he reached the group. “Is it true about Edris? And Pace and Kove too?” Jaris asked him, “Dale said you found him…” “Their families too,” Thayne replied, nodding his head, “I don’t know if it was the same man killed them all, but I ran into him at Edris’s place.” “You saw him?” enquired Jaris, sounding surprised. Still somewhat out of breath, Thayne nodded again. “He’s a freak. A fething giant that doesn’t seem to notice when someone shoots him. I only escaped because he’s too big to get through a door properly and he fell down three flights of stairs.” “So he’s dead then,” another constable said. Thayne shook his head. “I don’t know how, but the bastard managed to walk away. I don’t have a clue where he’s got to now.” “Out of my way,” the massive cloaked figure said as he pushed aside the guard and limped past him into the building. “Caradian,” another giant humanoid said to the newcomer as he lowered the hood from his cloak to reveal his shaven head, “your target is dead.” Unlike Caradian who wore a simple non-descript cloak, the man already in the chamber was almost entirely covered in thick plates of armour that left only his shaven head exposed. The plates of his armour were clearly designed to be used as a single suit, with flexible joints connecting the various pieces together to allow the wearer to move about. Though the man’s head was uncovered by the armoured suit, there was provision for a helmet to be attached using the same style of connection as was implemented at the other flexible joints. The armoured suit lacked any form of markings, but were all painted a uniform dull red colour. “He is my lord chaplain,” Caradian answered, bowing his head in the presence of his superior. “You are injured,” the chaplain noted when he saw the damage to
Caradian’s cloak. “This other man is dead also, yes?” “I regret not lord chaplain. I was hampered by the close confines
of the building interior and he was able to…” “Fool,” the chaplain snapped at Caradian, “You left a witness, and if he had a weapon then he was probably another member of the constabulary. The plan was for them all to die this morning.” “What is this? Have some of the traitors survived?” came a voice from behind Caradian as Venris Highbalt, former Imperial governor of the planet entered the room flanked by a pair of his bodyguards and trailed by an assistant. “It seems that one of them is alive.” Highbalt sat down. “Well that’s not too bad,” he said, “hopefully my man Jaris will find him and finish him off for us. Then without anyone else to maintain order that damned trader’s association will be begging my men to do it for them. Then we’ll be able to strike at the greenskins more easily.” “Be careful Highbalt,” the chaplain began. “That’s Governor Highbalt chaplain Krixus,” interrupted Highbalt. “Be careful, Highbalt,” chaplain Krixus repeated, emphasising the former governor’s name, “you have still not recovered the arms you need to fight the orks of this city.” “Bah!” Highbalt snorted, waving his hand in a dismissive manner, “I wouldn’t wager on the orks around here besting your men in battle in this environment, even with their armoured forces.” “Remember Highbalt, my men will not be available to you for the battle you are planning. We are here to do what is needed to complete your ascendancy to power on this world. It is your men’s job to keep the orks distracted while we do that. For that you will need those missiles.” “I have an agent in place now Krixus.” “I know all about your agent. I met her remember? How long has she been in place now? A month? I would start looking for another way to get your weapons back if I were you, and I’d start right now as well.” Highbalt’s face fell, as an Imperial governor it was rare for him to meet anyone who had any authority over him, and after his fall from power anyone who had spoken to him in the way the chaplain just had would have been put to death immediately. But Highbalt knew that the marines were his only hope of gaining even more power than he had ever possessed, and they were beyond his authority. For now at least, but he considered how he could make the marine pay for his insolence later. It was at this point that more massive cloaked figures began to file into the room, and one by one they lowered the hoods of their cloaks to reveal their shaven heads. “Ah,” Highbalt said, “I take it that the rest of the constabulary have met their ends?” The row of figures remained silent, not even looking at the former Imperial governor, instead facing chaplain Krixus. “Well sergeant Idrim?” Krixus said, “Are your targets dead?” “Xerxan and Los succeeded lord chaplain,” the sergeant said, “but the other targets were not at the locations we had been given. It appears that they had been warned and fled before we got there.” “Warned? Not possible,” Highbalt yelled, slamming his fist down on the table in front of him. “How many escaped?” Krixus asked, ignoring the outburst from Highbalt. “Fourteen my lord,” Idrim replied. “So if we assume that the man who injured Caradian was also one of the constables, then there could be fifteen of them left,” Krixus said before turning towards Highbalt, “Can your man handle that many?” “I very much doubt it,” Highbalt replied, “and anyway its your men’s failure, they should finish the job you gave them.” “Our targets were warned Highbalt,” chaplain Krixus responded angrily, “how exactly can that have happened if your man hadn’t failed to kill everyone in the headquarters with his explosives like you tasked him to?” Highbalt knew that the chaplain was right, someone had to have escaped the bomb in order to warn the remaining members for the constabulary that they were under attack. The failure had begun with Jaris. “You are an exception, however,” Krixus said, staring at Caradian, “You fled when you should have killed the man that discovered you. If you had then perhaps fewer would have been warned in time to escape us,” and with that Krixus drew his sidearm and placed the muzzle beneath Caradian’s chin before pulling the trigger. The bolt pistol let out a mighty boom as first the bolt round was accelerated down the barrel by the cartridge’s propellant charge, and then as its own rocket motor ignited as it reached the muzzle. Almost immediately the round punched its ways through Caradian’s flesh and then through his skull at the roof of his mouth before entering his brain. It was then that the mass reactive fuse was triggered and the round detonated, sending ting fragments of metal slicing through Caradian’s brain and cracking his head wide open. Not one of the assembled squad uttered a sound as their former companion was decapitated for his failure, but the combination of the loud noise and the rather messy way in which Krixus had chosen to execute Caradian made Venris Highbalt and his staff flinch and gasp. “Reclaim your armour,” Krixus said to the remainder of the squad, “you are dismissed.” |
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