Mastery - A 1000 word Iron Hands short story.

[Son of Carnelian]

Brother Augustus’ could see the distinctive green streaks of gauss energy in the space just ahead. Through the smoke, he could make out members of Squad Belfour attempting an advance on the Necrons’ position across the courtyard, but the meager cover provided by a few downed columns had not proved enough for many of their number. They had called over the vox for reinforcement and Augustus had immediately powered his way there as fast as the Centurion warsuit had carried him. He rounded the corner and began charging the building that the Necrons had made their firebase.

 

The alien machines instantly saw the threat that Augustus represented and directed their fire towards him. He grimaced as the first line of gauss fire scythed through his shoulder plate, utterly destroying the icon of a white cog that had been painted there. None of his organs extended to that corner of the Centurion warsuit, but the Necron’s defilement of a relic of the Mechanicum burned him as deep as any wound. As a member of the Iron Hands, Augustus had little patience for such things and he swore that he would make the aliens pay a thousand times over for the insult.

 

A few more shots cut through his plate, but none of them came anywhere close to inflicting critical harm. Augustus knew the Centurion had redundancies and backup systems that could keep the suit operating if needed. He powered through the concrete wall of the building the Necrons took shelter in and engaged his siege drills. As he did this, he heard the distinctive sound of metal grinding against metal begin its first notes. It seemed like music to him.

 

The closest Necron brought his gauss cannon up for a shot that would have gone square into Augustus’ chest, had he not then shoved his siege drill straight into the alien’s chest. The ancient metal crumpled and fractured as the Centurion’s drill did its work. The other four Necrons stepped back, as if they could avoid Augustus’ coming wrath by simply moving a pace away. Augustus brought up his other drill and let loose a blast from the attached meltagun at the bottom of his left drill. Two of the Necrons’ had their center masses completely melted and the other two flew from their feet.

 

Augustus withdrew his right drill from the first Necron and approached the two downed Necrons who still had not brought themselves upright. He slammed his two drills down in a perfect simultaneous motion and pinned both of the enemy warriors underneath his weapon’s bulk. Sparks flew from their chests as the drills sunk deeper and deeper towards the ground. The two metal faces jerked around in the closest approximation to pain that Augustus suspected they could feel. He heard them emitting some sort of screeching noise. Perhaps they screamed. It mattered not.

 

“You have no mastery of the machine.” 

 

Augustus punctuated his words by powering down his grinding weapons. Striding out from the hole he had created in the ruined structure, he saw Belfour and his squad slowly advancing towards him. The veteran sergeant had many of his limbs already replaced with bionic alternatives and even boosted a mechanical eye. Augustus longed for such honored enhancements himself. 

            

“Well met, Brother Augustus. I wish I had known you were coming. I would not have risked my squad in an advance.”

 

“I tried contacting you, but the aliens have somehow jammed vox communication. Some messages get through in pieces and others don’t get transmitted at all.” Augustus shifted his head down so he could better see Belfour. Standing a full two heads taller than the sergeant felt odd.

 

“Let us be thankful that they cannot disrupt your systems.” Belfour remarked, nodding towards the warsuit in front of him. Augustus’ chest swelled beneath the armor plate as he realized that the sergeant now envied him.

 

“We spotted a target who looked like one of their leaders. Iron-Captain Stronos gave us orders to pursue and confirm identification.’ The sergeant let the weight of that hang in the air for a moment before continuing. ‘It’s Trayzn.” Augustus clenched his teeth tighter at the thought of Clan Stronos’ old enemy stalking among the city. The glib Necron lord had mocked the Iron Hands time and time again by not only escaping the Space Marines, but also taking several of their sacred machines in his escape.

 

“Follow me,’ Augustus began. ‘We’ll resume pursuit and bring this blasphemous machine to his doom.”

 

“No,’ a voice echoed. ‘You will not.”

 

Augustus’ helmet began flashing warning signs as a legion of scarab-shaped machines burst from the shadows surrounding the Space Marines. They teemed from the buildings, underneath the pillars, and from the cracks in the plaza. The machines moved as fluid tentacles, swarming over the Iron Hands of Belfour’s squad and shredding them one bite at a time.

 

Augustus felt something worm at the back of his skull. He felt a tingle in his spine and tried engaging his siege drills, but the will would not come. His mind reeled as his body remained still, bound to the will of whatever blasphemous technology now inhabited him. He felt paralyzed, trapped within the same armor that he had only a moment ago taken such pride in inhabiting. Now he wanted nothing more than freedom, but the Centurion had become his prison.

 

“Interesting,’ muttered Trayzn as he stepped out of the shadows. He spoke in elegant Low Gothic with his every word perfectly enunciated. The Necron regarded Augustus for a long moment and then resumed speaking. ‘You wear armor that would have been outdated millennia ago. I did not know novelty appealed to Space Marines, but I will make a note of it. In the meantime, I will find an excellent spot for you in my collection. ‘The Space Marine Out of Time,’ yes! Your attempts at technology still baffle me after all these years. Wallowing in your ignorance.”

 

“You have no mastery of the machine.” 

[Lord Curze]

Sweet! 

[Son of Carnelian]

I'm glad you like it, Lord Curze! I'm trying to practice my short story skills every day so that I'm ready when Black Library puts out their next call for submissions!