Dark Disciple(科幻战争)-第58章

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the　eldar　warriors；　the　alluring　smell　of　death；　and　the　feel　of　the　xenos　weapon　beneath　his　hands。
He　saw　the　guards　of　the　eldar　lord　fall　one　by　one；　dragged　down　into　the　mist；　until　the　blackarmoured
figure　stood　alone；　defiant　and　savage；　yet　hopelessly　overwhelmed。　This　one　moved　well；
and　Marduk　longed　to　test　his　strength　against　him；　but　it　was　not　to　be。
The　daemonettes　circled　in　around　the　eldar　lord；　snarling　and　hissing；　closing　off　any　chance　of
escape；　and　Marduk　had　no　wish　to　come　between　the　daemons　and　their　prey。
Another　series　of　detonations　rocked　the　eldar　ship；　and　Marduk　swung　away　from　the　doomed
eldar　lord；　leaving　him　to　his　fate。
“That　one　is　mine；”　said　a　voice；　and　Baranov　looked　up　to　see　the　Space　Marine　that　had　released
him　from　his　imprisonment　striding　towards　him　through　the　pink　mist；　eyes　blazing　with
dominating　power　as　he　glared　at　the　daemonette　that　held　Baranov　in　its　thrall。
The　daemonette　hissed　in　anger；　but　obediently　spun　away　from　Baranov；　who　cried　out　in
desire　and　pain　as　it　relinquished　its　hold　on　him。　Bloody；　stinging　welts　covered　Baranov’s　body；
and　his　eyes　lingered　on　the　fey　creature　as　it　spun　away　on　one　clawed　foot　and　slashed　its　arm
across　the　neck　of　a　slave；　who　was　standing　nearby；　mouth　agape。　Blood　fountained　from　the
mortal　wound；　yet　the　man　moaned　in　pleasure；　and　the　daemonette　bore　it　to　the　ground　in　its
embrace；　the　pair　disappearing　into　the　knee…high　mist。
Baranov　was　insensible；　shaking　and　gibbering　from　the　horrors　he　had　witnessed　as　the　Space
Marine　hauled　him　brutally　to　his　feet。
“Take　me　to　your　ship；”　growled　the　immense　figure；　eyes　blazing　with　fury　and　power。
“My　ship；”　muttered　Baranov；　his　sanity　in　tatters；　but　he　was　brought　back　into　reality　as　the
Space　Marine　slapped　him　across　the　side　of　the　head。　His　brain　was　rattled　inside　his　skull　by　the
force　of　the　blow。　The　immense　figure　grabbed　Baranov　by　the　front　of　his　shirt　and　pulled　him
towards　his　snarling；　bloody　face。
“Take　me　to　you　ship；　or　I’ll　gut　you　here；”　he　growled。
Dracon　Alith　Drazjaer　turned　on　the　spot；　his　eyes　darting　between　the　encircling　daemonettes。　All
his　long　centuries　of　decadent　life；　avoiding　the　claim　that　She　Who　Thirsts　had　over　his　soul；　and　it
had　come　to　this。　Anger；　bitterness；　desperation　and　fathomless　terror　flowed　through　him　in　equal
measure；　but　his　body　had　been　well　trained　in　the　death…cult　temples　of　Commoragh；　and　he　reacted
instinctively　as　the　daemonettes　closed　in　on　him。
He　spun　towards　one　of　them；　catching　the　daemonette’s　blow　in　one　hand　and　slashing　his
bladed　forearm　across　its　neck　with　his　other　arm。　He　spun　the　daemonette　into　the　path　of　one　of　its
companions；　and　ducked　beneath　the　slashing　claws　of　the　third　daemonette；　coming　up　inside　its
guard　and　ripping　its　abhorrent　body　apart　with　twin　swipes　of　his　arms。
Turning　swiftly；　he　swayed　beneath　a　swinging　claw　that　would　have　ripped　his　head　from　his
shoulders；　and　slammed　a　kick　into　the　daemonette’s　perverted；　backwards　jointed　knee；　shattering
it。　As　it　fell；　he　rammed　his　elbow　into　its　face；　spitting　it　on　the　blade　that　jutted　from　his　armoured
plates。
165
He　caught　a　blade　on　one　forearm；　and　then　another　on　his　other　arm；　and　snapped　a　kick　into
the　daemonette’s　leering　face。　Blades　snapped　forwards　from　his　knuckles　and　he　stepped　in　close
and　punched　the　bitch　daemon　in　me　throat　twice；　hissing　fluid　spraying　from　the　wound　even　as　the
infernal　lesser　daemon　returned　to　smoke。
Drazjaer　felt　the　presence　of　the　mandrake；　Ja’harael；　materialise　at　his　side。
“Save　me；　half…breed；　and　all　that　is　mine　will　be　yours；”　Drazjaer　hissed　in　desperation。
The　mandrake　stepped　in　close　behind　him　and　rammed　blades　into　the　dracon’s　unprotected
back。
“You　have　failed　Lord　Vect；　dracon；”　hissed　the　mandrake　in　his　ear。　“Your　path　is　your　own。”
The　daemonettes　closed　in　once　more；　licking　their　lips　seductively。
“Goodbye；　lord　dracon；”　said　Ja’harael；　and　his　form　turned　to　shadow；　even　as　the　graceful
claws　of　a　daemonette　slashed　towards　him。　The　daemonic　blade…limbs　sliced　harmlessly　through
his　insubstantial　body；　and　he　disappeared；　retreating　into　the　refuge　of　the　webway。
Drazjaer　screamed；　his　earthly　voice　and　that　of　his　damned　soul　joined　together　in　union。
Delicate　claws　snapped　closed；　and　Drazjaer’s　body　was　shorn　into　a　dozen　pieces。　His　soul　was
sent　screaming　to　feed　the　insatiable　hunger　of　the　daemonettes’　master。
Screams　and　screeching　inhuman　cries　echoed　in　the　distance；　and　Baranov　was　pulled　sharply　into
the　darkness　of　a　side…passage　as　yet　another　troop　of　eldar　soldiers　ran　past；　heading　towards　the
escalating　mayhem　of　the　battle　underway　within　the　heart　of　the　eldar　vessel。
“There；”　whispered　Baranov；　unable　to　stop　his　body　shaking。　He　pointed　across　the　open　dock
towards　his　ship；　the　Rapture；　which　was；　thankfully；　still　where　he　had　left　it。　The　yawning　expanse
of　space　could　be　seen　beyond；　held　at　bay　by　an　invisible　integrity　field。
Another　explosion　rocked　the　ship；　and　Baranov　fell　to　his　knees；　though　his　companion　yanked
him　back　to　his　feet　instantly。
“Keep　behind　me；”　boomed　his　immense；　bloodied　benefactor；　who　broke　into　a　run　towards　the
Rapture。　Baranov　had　no　time　to　think；　and　he　bolted　from　cover　after　the　towering；　terrifying　Space
Marine。
There　was　a　shout；　and　Baranov　saw　a　pair　of　eldar　move　to　intercept　the　hulking　Space　Marine。
Pistols　spat　shards　of　death　towards　the　immense　figure；　but　they　barely　slowed　him；　and　he
thundered　into　the　pair；　his　halberd　swinging　in　lethal　arcs。　Two　slices　and　the　fight　was　over；　and
two　eldar　bodies　fell　to　the　floor　with　mortal　wounds。
The　Space　Marine　reached　the　Rapture　some　ten　paces　ahead　of　Baranov；　and　swung　around；　his
hellish　eyes　scanning　for　the　enemy。　Baranov　ran　underneath　the　landing　gear　of　his　prized　shuttle
and　keyed　the　entrance　code。　The　gangway　ramp　lowered　towards　the　floor　with　a　satisfying　hiss。
He　ran　up　the　ramp　and　bolted　towards　the　control　cabin；　throwing　himself　into　the　pilot’s　seat。
Flicking　levers　and　turning　dials；　the　Rapture’s　engines　roared　as　they　made　ready　for　flight；　and
Baranov　ran　through　a　hasty　diagnostics　check。　“Are　you　in？”　he　called　out　over　his　shoulder。　“Go；”
came　the　roared　reply；　and　Baranov　heard　the　sound　of　weapons　fire。　“Hold　on；”　he　shouted；　and　he
gunned　the　engines。　The　Rapture　lifted　from　the　deck；　and　her　landing　gear　folded　up　beneath　her　as
she　turned　on　the　spot；　aiming　towards　the　gaping　docking　bay　doors　and　the　refuge　of　space
beyond。　Weapon　fire　struck　the　hull；　and　Baranov　swore　as　he　saw　a　flashing　damage　report　register
on　one　of　his　pict　screens。　Then　he　slammed　the　two　propulsion　levers　flat　to　the　console；　and　the
Rapture　filled　the　dock　with　the　flames　of　her　engines。　The　rogue　trader　vessel　speared　out　through
the　gaping　bay　doors；　shooting　free　of　the　eldar　vessel　that　had　so　nearly　claimed　his　life　and　soul。
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CHAPTER　TWENTY…ONE
Solon　pushed　through　the　bustling　crowds　with　growing　desperation　and　fierceness；　shoving　people
brutally　out　his　way；　ignoring　their　curses　and　cries　of　anger　as　he　fought　his　way　towards　gate　D5；
one　of　more　than　fifty　that　was　still　taking　passengers。　He　dragged　Dios　through　the　press；
determined　not　to　release　his　grip　on　the　boy　now　that　they　were　so　close。
They　had　seen　the　mass　transport　from　some　two　kilometres　distance　as　it　descended　through　the
atmosphere；　hundreds　of　massive　retro　engines　roaring　to　slow　its　vertical　descent。　The　storms　that
had　raged　over　the　moon　had　been　rolling　away　to　the　south　for　the　past　six　hours；　and　for　the　first
time　in　almost　three　months　Solon　had　seen　the　stars　overhead　from　horizon　to　horizon。
The　angry　red　glow　of　the　Eye　of　Terror　dominated　the　sky；　a　circular　corona　of　hellish　light　that
peered　down　on　Perdus　Skylla　with　evil　intent；　gloating　over　its　fate。
Flashes　of　light　sparked　in　the　heavens；　like　a　hundred　stars　being　born　and　dying　again
instantly；　and　it　took　Solon　some　time　to　realise　what　the　flashes　were。
“An　Imperial　armada　is　fighting　for　us；　Dios；”　he　had　said　in　awe　when　realisation　had　finally
come　to　him；　and　he　marvelled　at　the　spectacle；　trying　to　imagine　the　colossal　battle　raging
overhead。
It　had　taken　them　almost　four　days　to　close　towards　the　Phorcys　starport；　and　they　had　met
thousands　of　refugees；　joining　their　convoys　as　they　gravitated　towards　their　last　hope　of　salvation。
Burning　streaks　of　fire　could　be　seen　in　the　distance　as　hundreds　of　alien　spores　descended　on　the
ice　world；　each　one　filled　with　xenos　warriors　intent　on　slaughter；　and　Solon　knew　that　the　final
death　of　the　world　drew　near。
With　grim　determination　he　pushed　on　through　the　crowd；　elbowing　his　way　forward；　struggling
along　with　more　than　a　hundred　thousand　other　desperate　souls　to　pass　through　gate　D5　and　secure　a
berth　upon　the　last　of　the　mass　transports。
It　was　like　a　form　of　hell；　with　so　many　thousands　of　people　straining　to　push　into　the　narrow
defile　leading　to　the　boarding　gate；　and　the　stink　of　humanity　was　heavy。　People　screamed　as　the
breath　was　crushed　from　their　lungs　by　the　press；　and　others　cried　out　as　they　fell；　to　be　trampled　to
death　underfoot。
Women　wailed　as　children　were　swept　away　from　them　in　the　surging　crowd；　and　thousands　of
voices　rose；　yelling　out　in　desperation　to　loved　ones　lost　in　the　press。　Other　voices　lifted　desperate
pleas　to　the　Emperor；　crying　out　for　aid；　for　salvation；　for　forgiveness。
Wild…eyed　priests　had　climbed　up　radial　spires　along　with　gaggles　of　frenzied　supporters；　and
they　raved　and　screamed　their　sermons　over　the　heads　of　the　crowds　that　rippled　like　a　living　sea
beneath　them。
A　form　of　mass　hysteria　and　mania　gripped　the　flood　of　humanity；　and　fights　broke　out　in
isolated　pockets　of　madness　within　the　sea　of　bodies；　with　men　clubbing　each　other　to　the　ground；
their　faces　twisted　in　rage　and　fear；　only　to　be　trampled　en　masse　as　the　crowds　surged　back　and
forth。
A　woman　that　had　scratched　a　bloody　aquila　into　her　forehead　screamed　that　the　time　of
repentance　had　come；　calling　out　for　others　to　join　her　in　joyous　suicide；　so　that　their　sou