Sweet Venom Arc 03

"Holy shit, Ink... Are you okay?" Leech asked with widening eyes as blood and goo dripped from the other Controller's back. "Did he do that?"

"No. Some giant lizard beast did. I killed it. And I'm fine." Ink hissed back, a quiet growl escaping her lips with every breath she took.

"Giant beast...? Was there a warshee here? Did you... kill a warshee?" Leech asked softly.

Ink shrugged and mumbled a response under her breath.

"Why was there a warshee here? This isn't anywhere near the DA's border. Unless it was in training, or maybe retired? Oh fucking hell, did we kill a retired warshee? Naw, that isn't right..." Leech's voice trailed off, and for a few moments, her expression appeared solemn, almost sad, the colour visibly draining from her cheeks. But then the moment passed, and she turned to face Ink with her usual eccentric energy. "You fucking idiot. You massive twat. Why - WHY did you insist on going in alone?! You made the Nodes wait outside the perimeter! And you fucking took off before everyone else too! You disobeyed my direct orders to launch from the dreadnought together!" Leech scolded, flapping her arms at Ink as she stepped off the dropship ramp, a squad of heavily armed Nodes in her stead. "Now we're killing retired warshees, balls deep in DA territory and the stupid lizard has a head start! All because you wouldn't wait five minutes!"

"I had him." Ink muttered, her eye twitching. "He got lucky."

"Oh, he got lucky, did he? Did he?! Ugh. Whatever. I'm here now. I'll clean this mess up. We do not want to go back to Moltezz empty handed after all of... this." She gestured to the carnage unfolding in front of them as yet another Baron ship crashed to the ground, just on the outskirts of the village.

Leech opened her mouth to address her Nodes, when suddenly, she froze. She stopped short of the first syllable, with only a half-questioning croak vibrating from her throat. She spun around and stared at Ink intensely as she gently rolled her shoulder - the one now missing a tentacle.

"Wait a minute... Look at me." Leech's voice was almost a whisper.

Ink turned her scathing gaze towards Leech, unsure of what she was trying to gauge but pissed off about it nevertheless.

"No..."

"What?!" Ink protested.

"You fucking like him, don't you?"

"I.. Who? Diego?" Ink asked, unconvincingly, her remaining tentacles flittering out around her as she dropped her gaze away from Leech's.

"Who the fuck else would I be asking about?" Leech's stare intensified. "Seriously? He's got you too?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Are you for real? You've met the fucker once and you're already lost in his dreamy eyes and fabulous hair?! I thought you had better taste than that! What is it about that lizard? I mean, look at us! We're prodding the prostate of DA territory on a ramshack dreadnought, breaking fuck knows how many laws, all in the pursuit of one guy? This shit is insane, even for me."

"I don't know! He seems different! Stop winding me up!" Ink scowled back defensively.

"Uh-huh. Different." Leech replied lowly. "Psh. I am the only one that isn't positively obsessed with this prick?"

"You are the odd one here, Leech. Maybe you're the one with bad taste." Ink grinned briefly, before falling back into her more solemn mood.

I have bad taste? Leech smiled back, her usual shit-eating grin now plastered firmly across her face, happy to watch Ink's self-own fly straight over her head. I'm sorry, who do I spend the most time with in my lab these days? Oh, that's right. Your giant ebony ass.

As they spoke, a dedicated team of Nodes finished hauling over a massive weapons crate towards Leech. It was heavy, even by Node standards, and the team was only too happy to drop it onto the trampled grass with a sigh of relief. The top was covered in a slightly stained red tarp, and someone had crudely painted the words 'Hair Straighteners' on the side. Leech whipped off the tarp and handed it to one of the Nodes to dispose of. There was a proud twinkle in her eye as she looked over her latest creation.

She glanced up then and scanned across the horizon, her gaze landing on the dragoons striding the countryside with lethal intent. They continued to fire their scale-steel volleys into the air. Approaching the village with the horde whilst the dragoons were active was nothing but suicide. Their macro-needles could puncture through hundreds of Slaves and would make short work of them, no matter their numbers. These mechanical beasts would need to be felled if they had any hope of taking off as the Vora Baron distractions in the air waned.

Speaking of Vora Barons, where in the flying fuck did they even come from?! Despite never physically encountering their kind, the tales of the Barons more than adequately described their hideousness. There was no mistaking them for anybody else; both DA tales of monsters beyond the border, and direct nomad accounts of their brutality were true to their word. Did they warp in with us? How did we not notice?! Psh, just can't get the staff these days!

"We'd better get a move on. You know what you're doing?" Leech asked, fumbling through a bag strapped across her hip.

"Yes." Ink muttered.

"And are you actually going to do it this time?"

"Yes." Ink replied sharply, her tongue flickering between her lips angrily.

"Good!" Leech pulled out a thick syringe from her bag and jabbed it into Ink's back, who winced briefly at its sting. "A stim shot to keep you going and help the pain with that missin' tentacle situation. Also -" She rummaged through the bag again and produced two slim metallic bracers, with bright blue panels on the top. "We know... Seeth... is here. I imagine she is very likely going to open fire on us on sight. I like your holes as they are, you don't need new ones. These bracers are the best kinetic shields we've got, should be enough to stop a few shells from her, but for fuck's sake don't doddle, she's lugging some sort of personal artillery around. They won't last indefinitely."

She slapped the bracers onto Ink's forearms and they hummed to life immediately, projecting a hazy blue bubble around Ink's body.

"Thanks." Ink replied bluntly again.

"You're welcome..." Leech frowned, rolling her eyes. Honestly, she's like a fucking teenager sometimes. "This time, use the horde, babes. They're an asset. I've mixed in a few special Slaves in the crowd, we have some squads already quite close to the village but they're being intercepted by Barons. Kross and the other Imprinted are focusing on keeping the Barons out - we can't have Diego getting offed by some blubbery fucker, you know? Just... don't get yourself killed. Please?"

Ink grunted back and strode off towards the crashed barge, her rapidly assembled army following in tow.

"Eh. I'll take that." Leech mimicked Ink's grunt and snickered to herself before turning her attention back to the ongoing conflict.

More and more Rewritten dropships were descending from the sky, taking care to avoid the dragoon's firing lines. Some descending were obviously looted nomad transports, but others were dropped off by stolen Darkpaw dropships, limited in number but noticeably more nimble than their rag-tag counterparts. It would matter little however, the Baron ships in the atmosphere began to deplete as the dragoon's metal gaze would find its way to them and would shred both nomad and Darkpaw vessels alike. Megacorp tech was not able to contest the might of the DA, no matter how flashy it looked.

Eight handpicked squads broke away from the main force to join Leech as she hauled her invention free from its container. A handful of Slaves helped haul the back-pack out of the crate, straining together to lift and loop it over Leech's shoulders, tightening the straps so it sat securely against her back.

Fuck me, this thing weighs a ton... this better work or I'm going to be a sitting duck. Time to get moving, they're not gonna melt themselves. Three dragoons... piece of cake.

They approached on foot, the squads staying deliberately segregated and travelling by foot to not alert the closest dragoon, on the foothill ahead of them. It stood proud and fierce, shouldering its oversized rifle and firing into the sky with a nauseating BRRRRRRR that rumbled through the ground and deep into their chests. Each squad had a nervous-looking Node at the head, and an unusual ensemble of Slaves. Some had explosives physically attached to their body, while others had a seemingly random configuration of cables and antennae poking out of them instead, with metal prongs stapled through their forearms.

Although anything Leech did was seldom random.

"~You know the plan. Move!~"

They approached the foothill in loose formation, each squad side-by-side, perpendicular to the dragoon still firing into the air. They stormed over the grass with tight knots in their stomachs, which only clenched and squeezed further with every step they took. Their advance did not go unnoticed. The squads still had half a mile to go when the dragoon turned its attention on them, pausing for a brief moment before turning the barrel of its gun to face them. The farthest squad from Leech was the furthest up the hill, and the machine's beady optics honed in on them first.

BRRRRRRRRR

Leech felt its impact through the hierclasty. In less than a second the squad was gone, the super-sized needles punched through armour, flesh and bone alike with the expected, disgusting efficacy. These were weapons of war, designed to shred through terra-corp tanks and rival empire armies; their use on infantry-sized targets was practically a war crime. The flak vests thrown over the Node did precisely nothing to prevent her fate, her body reduced to partially burning chunks along with all the Slaves. Nothing in the Rewritten's entire looted arsenal would protect them from this... However, forward was the only way through.

BRRRRRRRRR

The second squad, gone. One burst was all it took and it was raining limbs and speckles of hot dirt.

BRRRRRRRR

The third volley detonated one of the explosive Slaves, catapulting bodily viscera in all directions.

They still weren't anywhere near close enough to detonate, and the dragoon had already killed one third of the approaching squads.

This isn't going to work... we're not fast enough!

The squads threw themselves up the hill as fast as they could and the Nodes opened fire, but their bullets merely pinged off the dragoon as though they were wielding little more than toys.

"~I need a distraction on this dragoon! Now!~"

A looted quill-belly gunship swooped down from above, deploying its dual auto-cannons from the front of its chassis and unloaded an alternating, thudding barrage into the dragoon, raining empty brass casings onto the ground. However even the higher calibre cannons failed to crack its armour. Leech could hear the rounds shattering against the dragoon, leaving blackened scorch marks all over its frame, but nothing in the way of actual damage.

BRRRRRRRR

The quill-belly was practically sheared in half, raining down onto the assaulted estate in several shredded chunks, clattering through the roof and into the pool. Somehow, the Node pilot managed to escape almost certain death, pulling herself free of the wreckage and stumbling into the remains of the manor, and out of sight.

The ground squads rolled in closer. They were only moments away. The metal beast was in lunging range when they heard its servos whirr to life. It began to strafe backwards, walking away from the approaching forces but very much keeping its huge rifle pointed forwards.

No! Fuck! Don't walk away!

BRRRRRRRR

The closest squad was torn apart, the marco-needles over-penetrating and cutting deep into the ground in the same gruesome manner as before.

There were only two squads left between her and the business end of the dragoon's firepower. Panic flushed through her chest as her plan started to fall apart before her. She'd felt the power of vulcan weapons first hand; she didn't fancy her chances of surviving their big brother.

More quill-bellies rolled in, taking multiple angles on the dragoon. The increasing air-traffic around it caused an ally dragoon perched on a separate hill to take note and pitched in to help clear the sky, punching through the gunships in a series of precise volleys.

BRRRRRRRR

Another squad was turned into mulch as scraps of gunship and empty brass casings rained down around them, splattering into the frost clogged mud.

Ah fuck it! I'll take a page from Seeth's book!

The dragoon turned its gun on the last squad before Leech, the Controller could see the neon-blue optics within its head focusing on the node. It steadied its aim, in spite of the auto-cannon shells peppering its chassis.

Leech dropped her weapon to the ground and snatched an antenna Slave into her hands, pulled her arm back and launched the poor thing into the air, over the hill with all the force she could muster. The Slave hurtled through the air straight towards the mech, flailing wildly when Leech confirmed its activation through the hierclasty with a single, desperate thought. It screeched mid-flight like a wailing banshee and began to convulse wildly as its body surged with energy, blue crackles of energy arcing between its antennae. The dragoon lowered its rifle with one arm and went to swat it out of the air with its other hand when suddenly, the mech seized and stopped in its tracks. Its arm refused to move.

The optics on the dragoon blinked on and off, its once clean movement now halted as its joints locked up, and the Slave ploughed into the mud unceremoniously, still spasming violently as the smell of burning flesh began to permeate the air.

Oh my fuck! I can't believe that actually worked! Yes! I just disabled a dragoon! A fucking dragoon!

The closest squad made it within distance of the dragoon but Leech ordered the explosive slaves back and lifted her weapon back up. It was an unwieldy construct, with several massive black cables and two different coloured tubes, connecting to her oversized metallic backpack that was flicked on with a threatening hum. Its 'barrel' was a thick pair of parallel metal plates, similar to a tuning fork, or a giant pair of hair straighteners. A bright orange light emitted from between the prongs as she aimed the massive construct at the locked dragoon, now at the mercy of the multiple seizing slaves, violenting shaking around its feet to keep it pinned down.

A bright orange beam discharged from Leech's weapon and bore into the dragoon's chassis in a blinding eruption of sparks and heat. The dragoon's armour held for a few tense seconds, clinking gently under the sustained heat before finally giving way catastrophically. A cascade of molten metal poured down its frame like a candle under a blow torch, followed by the brief scream of its pilot within who was hammering at its non-responsive controls, but their struggle was short lived under the laser's sheer heat, as the cockpit liquified and poured out over the grass.

Leech pulled on the handle of her weapon and it silenced with a loud hiss, the prongs closing together to cease the beam in tandem with a blast of steam from its outer side.

The dragoon now stood hollow, arms and legs locked in place but its torso now a vacuous mess of dripping wires and slurried metal. A smog of plastic smoke and belching ichor billowed out from its once proud frame.

Fuck yes! Part two bitch, let's r-roll! Leech grinned, but her hands were shaking, and her heart was still firmly lodged in her throat.

Across the fields below, the Rewritten dived into furious combat with the crashed Barons, still lumbering out of their barges in a fury of confusion, but whilst the other two dragoons were up, they risked heavy losses. They needed to be eliminated.

Her eyes landed on the destroyed dragoon's rifle, intentionally left intact...

*

A single DA garrison soldier skulked between the wreckages of two crashed barges, navigating the narrow corridor of burnt grass between the two brass-coloured vessels. He clasped his vulcan rifle tightly in his young, shaking hands, his scale armour completely bare of any accolades or recognition. His ears could hear nothing but the cracking of distance fires and the occasional buzz of macro-vulcan fire, which seemed to be dropping in frequency.

He pressed his fingers to his communicator again, but the line remained jammed.

I need to get to the village. They'll need my help.

He pushed on, stepping over crushed mud and around burning wreckages, until something caught his eye. Someone's shadow was being cast over the walls of a barge, flickering in the firelight.

He kept his rifle poised and ready as he approached, winding through the burning wreckage's snake-like path, ducking under crumbling panels and crushed wings, when suddenly, he caught sight of a lone, shuddering figure, hunched over in a small clearing between the vessels. A Rager. He stood, alone, wavering on his feet oddly gently considering his size, almost like a flag caught in the breeze. Blood dripped down his neck and chest. His hands creaked around a crimson-soaked club. He was surrounded by dead Famished, panting loudly as the rage engine stapled on his back whirred quietly away.

The soldier's eyes found the Rager's. First he saw the madness with them, wide and bloodshot, pupils darting to and fro. Then he saw the blades, puncturing through his ribs, and the teeth marks on his arms. The rage engine on his back shuddered and roared to life, the sound punctuated by a visible gush of blood from his neck. The rager broke into a furious sprint, charging straight for the soldier, the whir of the engine getting louder and louder.

The soldier took aim, his shaking finger hovering over the trigger... but the rager only made it a few steps before suddenly collapsing to the floor, his body desaturating as his remaining blood spilled out over the grass, forcibly ejected by the engine as it spluttered to an anticlimactic end. The quiver in the soldier's bones intensified. Were these the savages beyond the border he'd heard about?

He couldn't stay here. He could hear more of the creatures, clambering around inside their oversized metal coffins. Every crumpled door concealed more of them, every puncture in the ship's carcass, another way to ambush him. So he continued on, treading across the blood-soaked ground and stepping carefully over battered Famished bodies, as he made his way closer towards the distant sound of friendly vulcan gunfire. Rounding the corner of the crashed vessels, finally he was nearing the edge of the village. A lumbering Baron clutched his side in pain, blood dribbling from between his fingers. He limped away from a scattering of corpses where the invading forces had clashed.

Without warning, a fresh attacker sprinted in and leapt onto the Baron's back, clutching his grey arms around the lumbering giant's neck. He roared in frustration and reached around shoulders, snatching the monochrome individual from his back and lining him up with his leering jaws. The Baron wasted no time and sink his teeth straight into the skull of the attacker, with an audible crunch -

The soldier squeezed his rifle tightly as a loud bang echoed in his ears, and the Baron collapsed to the floor in a blinding blue flash. Massive arcs of plasma welded the two intruders' bodies together, arcing from the smaller attacker and melting the Baron into nothing but a smouldering, half-liquid pile, strewn messily over the carefully placed paving slabs that surrounded the once pristine village.

The soldier's shuddering breaths were drowned out by the sound of more footsteps, more gunshots, more death, when a shiver suddenly ran uncomfortably down his spine. Someone was close. He heard the clatter of metal and the whirr of another rage engine - no, several more rage engines. He spun around as a battered group of Ragers emerged from the crashed vessels he'd navigated between, their gaze locked onto the soldier as they spread out over the crushed soil, surrounding him.