A Light Not Extinguished

Chapter 9: Old Soldiers

"We can save him!" A female biomancer shouted back, her palms on the boy's forehead channeling psychic energy in an attempt to stabilize the mutation. "We just need more time!"

The body stilled briefly, then lurched upwards as the flesh began to tear apart. The eyeballs started to wiggle out of their sockets, splitting apart into new ones as the boy let out a long, chilling scream.

"Empyrean incursion imminent. This is your final warning- disengage now!"

Reluctantly, the medics leapt backwards, just as the turrets above them opened fire, phase-iron bullets turning the once-human thing into bloody mush. One of the doctors turned his head to the side and vomited.

"Beginning decontamination process." Two robots marched over, one of them producing a phosphex sprayer which would release a weakened form of the flaming acid, enough to make sure that no trace of the body remained. "Please proceed to the next patient."

It had already been the third death in two days, the Iron Mind reflected, while watching the medical team trudge to the next holding cell. He dd not envy them; it was a demanding job, with considerable risk to oneself. The death toll was slowly but surely rising, with the symptoms of Warp sickness becoming more violent. If this continued to escalate, then perhaps it was time to request heavier armaments...

***

M24, 200

Baal Prime

The small landing craft gently touched down, having com all the way from orbit. As Ollanius stepped out, he was greeted by the faint scent of orchids, the vibrant green grass crunching underneath his feet. On Baal Prime the air scent differed in each region, all possible because of the genetically engineered plants that covered the planet.

In the west was a pristine white mountain covered in snow, the top surrounded by smoky mists. The sky was an azure blue, with hardly a single cloud in sight. A flock of doves flew serenely across the sky, so lifelike that one would be forgiven for not thinking that they were machines. In front of him was a still, mirrorlike lake, with a wooden bridge leading to the centre. Fitting for a nature-themed Resort World- the people who had terraformed Baal Prime had aimed to strike a balance between technology and nature, and they had succeeded. Its sister moon Baal Secundus was of a different type, an arctic paradise instead of a temperate climate.

Slowly, Ollanius walked across the bridge. His Adrathic Pistol hung heavy on his belt, but it would be useless anyway, if a fight was to break out. The bridge led to a small grassy island with a table and two chairs, with a man sitting in one of them.

Adam raised a hand. "It has been a long time, friend." He was garbed in a relic of a bygone age; a three-piece suit in black and white, threaded through with gold. He had changed his form again to one his fellow Perpetuals were most familiar with; an angular bronze face framed by long black wavy hair, along with a normal-sized human body and golden irises.

Ollanius slowly sat down in the remaining chair. "I've been out of everything for a while. Where are the others?"

Adam waved a hand. "Alivia is doing her adventuring thing in the Halo Stars. Shinji is on guard duty at you-know-where. Erda is still running her Luna genelab as far as I know." He smiled. "You are a hard man to find, you know that? It took me almost two years to find you."

The skies are burning with rad-weaponry and toxin clouds, three humans standing back-to-back as the Rangdans descended in all of their horrid glory, jaws, tentacles and fangs salivating. "I almost have it." One of them speaks, his voice strained and eyes closed, golden armor cracked and battered. "Give me a few minutes and their leader will be dead."

The First Perpetual drove his bayonet into a Megacarcass, the fused corpses screeching as Ollanius wrenched it out. "We don't have that time!"

Alivia snarled, eyes glowing with psychic power as winds began to billow around her. "Then let's buy the big guy some time, Persson. If we fail here then the refugee fleet is doomed." She raised her hands, a wave of fire cascading outwards and incinerating everything in its way. A sizable piece of stray shrapnel flew by, taking his right arm clean off. Grimacing, the old soldier didn't let go of his rifle, shooting a bloated Wormguard in the face as the stump quickly regenerated into an arm. "Just like Verdun all over again..."

Ollanius raised his head. "I told you I wanted to be left alone, Gilgamesh." It was one of his oldest names, and it was the one given to Ollanius when they had first met in the ancient city of Uruk. "What changed?"

Adam raised his eyebrows. "I think you and I both know the answer to that, Enkidu." The name brought back old memories; a shattered tower, betrayal and knowledge lost.

He remembered his lower jaw exploding into shards of crystallized flesh as the word of power left his mouth, every brick that made up the Tower of Babel disintegrating as impossibly large thunderbolts started to fall from the sky. His friend's eyes were wide with disbelief, the flaming crown on his head shattered as the two of them began to fall, the wound on his chest trailing scarlet blood that crackled with power.

But they both survived that. They always do.

"Let's say that I don't know." Ollanius retorted. "Enlighten me." He watched the being in front of him. Was he friend, foe, nemesis, ally or comrade? None of these words seemed adequate when it came to describing their millennia-old history.

"The pieces of the game have been rearranged, old friend. You are not an ignorant man- you have felt the song of the Warp changing, do not deny it. I know that we may have our... differences, but I think we can both agree that humanity's future will be in ruins if we do nothing."

"You've hardly been idle." Ollanius scoffed. "If I'm not wrong, you've roused the Federation to war, haven't you? Still operating from the shadows, I see."

"I did what was necessary to ensure mankind's survival." The age-old argument between the both of them was bubbling to the forefront again; it seemed inevitable in all of their meetings. "As much as I would enjoy another philosophical debate with you, I did not come here for that; I need your help, Enkidu."

Ollanius shook his head. "I told you, I'm tired. Tired of wars and struggling. Just let me have my peace- can't you give me that much?"

Wordlessly, the psyker slid over a small dataslate, Ollanius picking it up and slowly reading its contents. "Oh, for God's sake." He groaned, looking up at the sky. "Did that fool get himself captured again?"

"You know how it is. Are you going to rescue him or not?"

Ollanius mulled it over. "...You know I wouldn't say no, you bastard."

Adam flashed a gleaming smile. "Good." He pulled out a large coffin-sized box from thin air. Within the glass casing, one could see a sleek, streamlined suit of Power Armor, colored a muddy green. "Your old suit- I took the liberty to make a few adjustments after Ullanor." Then he produced another object from nowhere- a longsword in a scabbard with a golden hilt, and handed it to Ollanius. "Oh, and this too."

The First Perpetual slowly unsheathed it, un-light reflecting off the flintlike blade. "Christ. Do I even want to know where you got a fucking anathame?"

"Do you really want to?"

Ollanius considered it. "No, I suppose not." He grabbed the container with the power armor in it by the handle, and with a series of well-practiced motions, slashed apart a rift in the air that pulsated an inky blue. "...thanks, I suppose."

Then he stepped through the rift, and was gone.