《Dark Disciple(科幻战争)》

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Dark Disciple(科幻战争)- 第32部分


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warriors to charge up the middle; with Marduk at their forefront roaring catechisms of vengeance
and hate。
Every carefully targeted burst of fire from the Anointed had ripped another of the enemy
soldiers apart; but it was Marduk’s charge that signalled the commencement of the real slaughter。
Up close; the enemy had no hope of survival。 Hastily fired point blank lasgun shots had seared
burning furrows across power armour plates as Marduk and Khalaxis entered the fray; chainsword
and axe cutting and ripping。 Bolt pistols created gory craters of flesh in chests; and limbs were
ripped from their sockets as Khalaxis’s warriors tore through the heart of the enemy defence。
Those cowards that had turned to run were hacked down without mercy; chainswords and heavy
axes severing spines and cutting arms away at the shoulder。 Kol Badar and his Anointed moved
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through the mayhem; ripping apart the remnants of the Imperial defenders; gunning them down with
combi…bolters and heavy reaper autocannon fire。 The Coryphaus smashed the scorpion…legged rapier
sentry…guns aside with backhand blows of his power talons; sending them crashing into cowering
defenders; crushing limbs and breaking bones。
As the last enemies were brutally butchered; and as Sabtec’s squad moved forward to secure the
area; Darioq…Grendh’al stamped mechanically forward; each heavy step accompanied by a whine of
servos。
The magos; Marduk noted with a smile of satisfaction; was now truly a being of Chaos。 The four
powerful arms of his servo…harness were as much organic as metal; and bony protuberances; serrated
thorns and hooked spines ridged the once pristine metal limbs。 Fleshy lumps of muscle had grown
around the servo…bundles and coupling links that joined the servo…limbs to his body; and a large
curving horn emerged from the left side of the magos’s head; bursting through the blood…stained
fabric of the low cowl that hid his face in shadow。
Waving mechadendrite tentacles sprouted from his spine; and where before they were tipped
with mechanical claws; sensory apparatus and data…spikes; now several of them ended in gaping
lamprey mouths; filled with rings of barbed teeth; from which ropes of oily saliva dripped。 The
surface of many of the tentacles too had changed; their metal bands morphing into smooth; black
skin; wet and slick like the body of an eel。
The insignia of the Adeptus Mechanicus had been altered and corrupted; for such a reminder of
the false machine faith was offensive to the fundamentalist Word Bearers。 The cogged wheel of the
Mechanicus had been overlaid with the holy eight…pointed star of Chaos; and the black and white
skull motif of the machine cult had been corrupted; now bearing daemonic horns and wreathed in
flames so that it mirrored the sacred Latros Sacrum borne upon the left shoulder of every warrior
brother of the XVII Legion。
As if to emphasise the corrupted nature of the magos; Darioq…Grendh’al paused besides a dying
Imperial soldier; who stared up at him in horror; face awash in blood。 The magos peered down at the
man; his unfathomable red glowing right eye boring into the soldier。 Four of the lamprey mouths of
the semi…organic mechadendrites waved towards the fallen man; who recoiled away from them in
horror。 The tentacles were drawn to him as if they tasted his blood in the air; and latched onto him;
attaching to his neck; his chest and his face。
The man screamed in horror and pain as the tentacles twisted back and forth; burrowing into his
flesh and began sucking away his vital fluids。 The man died in torment; and as the feeder mouths
pulled away from the corpse with a wet sucking sound; blood dripping from their gaping apertures;
the magos tilted his head to one side and; with an almost tender; tentative movement; lifted one of
the man’s limp arms with one of his own mechanical power lifters。 Releasing the man’s arm; it
flopped back to the ground; and Darioq…Grendh’al stared down at it in incomprehension。
Amused; Marduk watched as the magos tried to raise the man to his feet; lifting him up gently in
his mechanical claws; careful not to crush him in his powerful grip; but the body collapsed to the
ground as soon as it was released。
“The life…systems of this flesh…unit have failed;” said the magos。 “Already its body temperature
has dropped 1。045 degrees; and its cellular make…up is entering corporal decay。”
“He’s dead; magos;” said Marduk softly。 “You killed him。”
The magos looked at Marduk; and then back down at the corpse。 Then; slowly; he raised his
head once more to meet Marduk’s gaze。
“Feels good; doesn’t it?” said Marduk。
The magos paused; looking down at the corpse at its feet in incomprehension。 Then the
corrupted once…priest of the Machine…God straightened。
“I wish to do that again;” he said。
“Oh you ised Marduk。
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Having breached the defences of the guild hab…city; the Word Bearers made swift progress through
the tunnelled streets and boulevards; encountering no resistance and sighting few living beings。 The
citizens that still remained in the city fled before the advance of the enclave; scurrying like vermin
into the darkness of side…tunnels and alleys。
Marduk gave them no mind。 He cared not for the fate that awaited them once the tyranids had
descended on the planet。 They would all be slaughtered; their bodies consumed to feed the growth of
the hive fleet。
They descended deeper into the guild city; guided inexorably onward by schematic maps that
flickered across auspex screens; uploaded from the data banks of the guild bastion。 They marched
through what must have been the mercantile district of the sub…surface city; which was rife with
detritus and evidence of looting。 Doors were smashed from hinges; and goods and foodstuffs lay
scattered across the tunnel floor; along with the occasional corpse。
“Trampled to death in the exodus;” said Sabtec evenly as he knelt by one of the bodies。
“The cowards won’t even stand to fight for their own world;” said Khalaxis; a fresh array of
scalps and death…skulls hanging from his belt; “and they kill each other in their panic to escape。
These are not worthy foes。”
“Rejoice at the weakness of the Imperium;” said Marduk。 “Namar…sin; which direction?”
“East; two kilometres;” said the champion of the Havoc squad; consulting the throbbing blister
display of his auspex。 “There; we must rise four levels towards the surface; and proceed a further
kilometre to the north…east before we get to the ore docks。 That is where the lift rises from the ocean
floor。”
“Burias; take point;” rumbled Kol Badar。 “Khalaxis; move in support of the icon bearer。 Let’s
move。”
Dracon Alith Drazjaer raised one thin eyebrow a fraction; his almond…shaped eyes glinting
dangerously。 That one small movement would have been all but unseen by a human; but to the keen
eyes of the eldar; the subtle nuance spoke volumes。
The dracon reclined languidly on his command throne; his thin chin supported by the slender
fingers of one hand as he stared down at the supplicant kneeling before him。 He was bedecked from
neck to toe in tight fitting segmented armour; like the scaled skin of a serpent; glossy and black。 A
mask covered the left half of his face; its barbed blades; like the legs of spiders; pressing against his
flesh。 A pair of blood…red tattoos extended down his pale cheeks from his eyelids; like bloody tears。
“How many?” Dracon Alith Drazjaer said; his voice a soft purr。
The sybarite supplicant; Keelan; paled and licked his thin lips。 Unable to hold his master’s gaze;
his eyes moved to the figures behind the throne。 A pair of the dracon’s incubi guards stood there; but
there was no hope of support from them。 They were as still as statues; their faces hidden beneath tall
helmets; and they held curving halberds in their gauntleted hands。 Keelan’s eyes flicked to the other
two figures standing by the dracon’s side。
On the left stood the firebrand; Atherak; her tautly muscled body covered in swirling tattoos and
wych cult markings。 The sides of her head were shaved to the scalp and tattooed; and a ridge of
back…swept hair ran along her crown like a crest; falling down her back past her slim waist。 A
myriad of weapons were strapped to her limbs; and she sneered at Keelan。
On the right was the haemonculus; Rhakaeth; unnaturally tall and thin even by eldar standards;
his cheeks sunken。 He looked like nothing more than a walking corpse; and his eyes burnt feverishly
hot with the soul…hunger。 Keelan quickly averted his gaze; looking at the floor。
“How many?” Drazjaer asked again; a subtle change in his inflection registering his displeasure;
and the sybarite knew that he would not escape without punishment。 Dracon Alith Drazjaer of the
Black Heart Kabal was not a forgiving master。 Doubtless he would experience torment beyond
imagining at the hands of the haemonculus; Rhakaeth; but not death。 No; he would not be allowed
death。
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“We lost twelve of our number; my lord;” Keelan said finally。
“Twelve;” repeated his master; his voice expressionless。
“It was not the regular mon…keigh forces that we faced; my lord;” said the sybarite; desperation
in his voice。 “The… augmented ones wer
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