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17.64% Guardians Bane / Chapter 3: Firefight

章節 3: Firefight

With a deep breath, Talassar centred himself, falling back on the oldest calming exercises from his training as a Neophyte. The reports from the vid screen faded away and the threatening presence of M filled his mind with a burst of pain for a moment before he was able to remove the distraction. Gently probing the strange field around him, Talassar tried to draw energy from his essence, weaving strands of psychic energy to slide through the cracks of the binding. Sweat beaded on his head, the strain at keeping the energy in place despite the restriction taking its toll. His fingers flashed to weave a focus, claws of energy gripping the cracks and he pushed with all his might, struggling to widen them.

He could almost hear the field groaning under the pressure of his weave. It was a figment of his imagination of course, the energy fields interacting in some untraceable higher dimension where no sound could be produced. He drew deeper of his essence and strengthened his weave, frustration building at the paltry streams he was able to pull through the binding. The pressure built, and he cursed in his mind, hurling insults at the Guardians as he worked at the cracks. Minutes passed, agonising, terrifying minutes.

Nothing worked. The binding refused to weaken further.

Talassar slumped on the couch, clutching his head and taking deep breaths to ease the pounding in his skull. He reached up to touch the cracked device, marvelling at how it melded with his skin. The binding was now a thin silver band around his head, almost insignificant in weight. If it wasn't for the constricting field over his essence, he might have been able to ignore it. Only when he tried to deal with the binding or sensed someone's emotions would his head hurt. His other abilities were only diminished by the speed with which he drew essence.

"Do your injuries trouble you Favoured?" G offered him a canteen of water and a towel no doubt appropriated from somewhere in the apartment. Not even rebels would walk around with embroidered pink bunnies.

"Call me Talassar." He said, sighing and wiping his sweat away. "No longer am I a Favoured."

G pointed silently at Talassar's makeshift robe rippling as it fought against the planet's gravity, remnants of his weave leaking into his surroundings. Talassar shook his head at the sight. [Amateurish. I did better during my first year in the Seminary. If Arch-Favoured Dionus saw me now, I would end up cleaning the latrines for a week.]

"My abilities aside, I doubt the Synod or Legates would be happy to see me now." He returned the towel and drank from the canteen, grateful for the cool water. Dust, ash and he had no idea what, coated his mouth and throat, grating as the liquid settled in his stomach.

G reached out, hand pausing inches from Talassar when he raised an eyebrow at the motion. After a moment of hesitation, G patted him on the shoulder, murmuring a few comforting words before returning to his post. Confused by the action Talassar brought his abilities to bear on him. G was feeling indebted of all things! A strange emotion for a rebel.

Without a purpose in this group, Talassar studied the news reports, trying to piece together the extent of the uprising. Dozens of systems were at war, rebel armies bursting from hidden bunkers and overrunning the Guard's garrisons with lightning spe. While the news lacked the depth of an intelligence report, the list of sectors going off the FTL-comm network was terrifying. Talassar opened a comm interface and sat in silence as nodes went dark. [Epsilon-Tauri's gone and took Arcadia with it. It's difficult to tell, but I'd place my bet on the third fleet defecting and moving through the Solanki gate to the hub station at Loquace, which would effectively sever the Synod's ability to retake the shipyards. Truly a major coup, but irrational. Without the supplies from the Rim there's no way to maintain production.]

"A major effort isn't it?" The Ironian dropped into a chair beside him, brushing dirt from his iridescent hair. "I don't think anyone believed your rebels had this much strength."

"You seem unimpressed by this… uprising." Talassar said, drawing away from the man. An Ironian agent this deep in the Empire would be one of their best.

"Rebellion is rebellion, and no official is happy to see it. It spreads in odd ways, giving citizens ideas they really shouldn't have."

"Bad for business." Talassar muttered, wincing as the node at Calassi flickered and went dark, taking with it half the comm nodes across the Ezani front. The Ironian chuckled at his words, waving his finger in figure eights, a symbol for making money if he remembered correctly.

"You know our people well Favoured."

"Bad though it may be, it's not enough to keep you from helping them. As long as it suits your purpose."

The Ironian nodded. "Not much point in lying in front of someone with your gifts."

Talassar waved his hand in agreement, pleased when the agent flinched at the movement. It was good to be feared. At least the rebels would tread lightly, afraid he could delve through their innermost thoughts, even if he could barely move a ball across the room. "Why all this trouble for Invincible?"

"You could probably pull it from my mind if I gave you the chance, but I urge you to be patient and control your… abilities until we make it out. I will explain everything later."

"So mysterious Ironian, but I acquiesce." He couldn't dig through the man's mind even if he wanted to. "I have little reason to protect the Synod's secrets."

"Good!" The Ironian's eyes flickered with relief so strong Talassar could feel it through the cracks of the binding. It was rare for an emotion to be so strong it projected directly onto his essence. "Will you be alright with that thing on your head? It looks like it's melting into your skin."

"It's not an issue." Talassar lied, tapping his temple. "They thought it could hold me but we Favoured have ways around something like this." A burst of fear from the agent was quickly suppressed and Talassar resisted the urge to menace the man. They were ostensible allies now. He waved at the lounging soldiers and spoke. "Since we are agreed, what are we waiting for? I see little purpose in waiting longer. The more time you give the Guard to respond the harder it will be to break through."

"We have no reason to explain anything. You wait until we're ready." M rasped, striding into the room with her helmet back on, running through her systems with practised ease. Her voice rose with each word, anger bleeding into each syllable, the volume magnified by the armour's speakers.

"I think we can treat the Favoured as an ally M." The Ironian interrupted the woman before she launched into a tirade. "Our forces are coordinating a number of strikes." He said, leading Talassar to his helmet where he projected a layout of their surroundings. Red symbols marked the Holy Guard and their allies, popping in and out of existence from every direction. HLA forces were tagged in green, striking from hidden positions as they retreated. "This is what we're waiting for." The Ironian breathed, his suave voice trembling in excitement as he pointed at a swarm of green moving to pincer the largest Guard battalion.

"I didn't realise the HLA had such a strong presence on Delphi." [These people might have an actual chance to get out now.]

The projection blinked out and the Ironian donned his helmet, calling the group to attention. He issued orders quickly, assigning G to protect Talassar while M led the rest of the group. In short order, the scouts were rushing through the building to find an exit along their planned escape route.

"I need a gun." Talassar called to M before she left. Her helmet swivelled eerily, the blackened visor casting his own reflection back at him. "I am not insignificant when it comes to combat." G chuckled beside him, his armour's speakers crackling with mirth. [Laughing at a Favoured would have earned him a lashing at the least. This G is far too easy going.]

"Give him what he wants M." The Ironian ordered as he placed a strange hexagonal device across his chest plate. It flashed with crimson light when it was attached, pulsing with strange ripples of energy he could sense from across the room.

M gestured to one of her soldiers, communicating over the radio so Talassar couldn't hear and in short order he was decked out in combat fatigues with an M24 all purpose energy pistol at his waist and a 'Devout Blade' sniper rifle across his shoulders. [The M24 is a little light but should be able to withstand what little ability I can bring to bear.] He caressed the rifle, marvelling at how well maintained the aged weapon was. Aged it might be, but Talassar knew it could pack a serious punch. Which was why it had been the mainstay of the Hall of Seers for decades.

Its light weight and high precision was a blessing for psychers and doom on their enemies.

Comforted by the familiar weight, Talassar drew some essence to weave a series of probes, testing the limits of his senses. Weak ripples of energy covered the entire building, identifying every being still within. Confidence surged through him at the response. With his basic skills weakened but usable, not much would be able to threaten him.

Walking out of the room, Talassar strapped a headset on, muttering at the odd static he felt when it touched the binding. He tapped the side of the headset once and it crackled to life, already keyed into the group's frequency.

"Alright, R's found us a route. Let's go." M's voice overrode the chatter and G led the way, his armoured bulk casting its shadow over Talassar. They moved through the dimly lit building; only emergency lights would be working in this sort of situation and Talassar flexed his fingers, stroking the handle of his pistol. Soon they reached a rooftop and soldiers jumped off into the street.

"I wonder why we didn't go through the door?" He muttered. The clouds of debris as armoured figures slammed into the ground were a sure sign of their passage.

"The building's got too many sensors at the exits." G explained, peering over the ledge to make sure the others were out of the way. "Whoever owns this place is truly paranoid. Do you need me to assist you Favoured?"

Talassar hopped over the ledge without a word, a small weave slowing his descent. He couldn't afford to show weakness. [Looks like I'm about as strong as a fifth stage Acolyte. Should be enough unless another Favoured shows up, and most of them should be off fighting the main force.]

The streets were quiet. The faint sound of battle pulling further from them as they trotted through the city. Broken stone and plascrete littered their path, forcing Talassar to draw on his essence to keep up with the soldiers. The heat from recently fired plasma warmed his boots and Talassar swerved around the glowing stone before him, carefully scanning the ground for other hotspots. The soldiers in their armour wouldn't be bothered and if he scorched his legs M would just make sure he didn't die.

"Stop." A whispered voice over the comm sent the group scrambling for cover. Talassar crawled to a broken vehicle and drew his pistol, sighting down the street they'd turned into.

"Sitrep?" M hissed.

"Not sure Captain. I'm getting tremors on my seismic sensors, but I can't lock down the direction…" The voice froze and Talassar blinked as a mech rounded the corner, rangefinders lighting up the street. The beast of metal was almost three storeys tall, its deadly array of weapons swivelling to cover them. The threatening gleam of synthsteel barrels swung down on them, the cruel hum of charging weapons causing Talassar to hold his breath.

"Lay down your weapons civilian!" The mech was aiming at him, the only person on the street whose heat signature was visible. The armoured soldiers would be protected by the camouflage settings of their suits, instantly turned on when they went prone.

"Well this is bad." Talassar muttered. Before he could move, a hail of fire from the scouts sent the mech reeling, an arm overheating and exploding under a cascade of plasma. A cloud of smoke obscured his vision, and he scrambled back down the street, cursing as another mech thundered onto a roof to their left, flares from its jets selling it into place. [It must have jumped from somewhere else.]

He reached G and huddled behind the man's armour, peering at the first mech coming apart under the surprise assault. M was carrying a heavy weapon he couldn't recognise, gouts of energy tearing from its glowing barrel to slice the first mech apart. Before they could celebrate its destruction, the second mech activated its shield, a shimmering dome going up before it let loose with horrifying beams, walking the destructive lights down the street to send soldiers flying. The Ironian dashed to cover M, slamming the patch on his chest to raise a cloudy wall. [A phase shield! That's impossible.] The beams crashed against the shield, warping and vanishing as they were pulled into another dimension.

G pulled him back, taking the chance while the mech was focused on M to lead him into a nearby building.

"Can you do something about the mech Favoured?" Even through the headset his voice was muffled, the screams of missiles and explosions drowning out all sound.

"If we can get around it." Yesterday if he pointed the war machine would have turned to scrap under his power. "I need to be able to see clearly." G led the way as they dashed through the corridors, trying to work their way behind the mech. Shops flashed by, an assortment of groceries and specialised stores placing them in one of the city's district markets.

"Guardsmen coming from the west!" someone reported and G came to a stop, his visor flashing with a map of their surroundings. He pointed, and they ran into a butchers, pushing the furniture against the door and smashing the glass shopfront to clear lines of fire. The enemy must be close.

"G look out! Hostiles coming from above." The scout barely finished his call before the ceiling across the promenade disintegrated, a squad of guardsmen arriving in a burst of plasma fire. They broke for cover even as G opened fire with his rifle, short controlled bursts ripping through the enemy. Talassar hunched behind the counter, weaving a simple probe. With a flick of his wrist waves of energy rippled across the market and he fired three quick shots without looking up. Three guardsmen popped out from behind cover only to run into his plasma.

He wove another probe as G kept shooting, targeting the few guardsmen who managed to break past his suppression. In less than a minute the squad was forced to retreat under a barrage of fire. G broke from cover and with Talassar they circled the market to arrive behind the mech.

Talassar leaned against a broken wall for support and pulled the Devout Blade from his back, sighting down the scope at the mech. He weaved another probe, this one focused on the mech, surprised at the ease with which he was able to identify its parts. Normally mechs were protected by powerful interdiction fields which made it difficult to use psychic energy around them. He grimaced as another barrage from the mech poured into the street, turning one of the armoured soldiers into a twisted piece of molten slag.

"We need to hurry." G urged, keeping an eye out for more squads of guardsmen. The destruction of a mech was sure to draw a strong response.

Talassar grinned as he found what he was looking for and stood up, weaving a simple telekinetic surge, ignoring G's hissed demands for him to hide. Palm wide open, he pushed and felt the weave snap onto the reactor stabiliser. He pulled with all his might, tearing the stabiliser away. The tightly packed energy bottle of the reactor quickly unravelled, energy tearing through the containment unit. A series of cracks spider-webbed across the mech, its weapons sputtering out as gouts of molten synthsteel erupted in every direction, a pillar of fire rising where the mech used to be.

"What did you do?" G's voice cracked as he stared at the puddle that used to be a mech.

"Broke it." Talassar declared triumphantly, wiping the sweat from his brow. The attack took a lot out of him and he needed to conserve his strength. "Call your companions, we need to move." As if to punctuate his words a tank rumbled across a nearby street with a group of guardsmen leading the way. Talassar snapped off a few shots, grabbed G and hurled himself through a nearby window, plasma fire splattering the spot where they stood. He broke into a mad sprint as G coordinated their movements, requesting M to summon HLA reinforcements. The buildings exploded around them, HLA squads and guardsmen becoming entangled throughout the district, blood and ash following their every footstep.


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