Warhammer: Adventures Of The Two

986.M41 Cellos VI

Things were bad. Very bad. It had started with the first major assault onto the tomb, which had failed miserably. Jarod still couldn't read the future, and as such, he was left with his wit and raw skill. As a result, they were making no progress. The Necrons were too numerous to deal with, and their regenerative capabilities meant that while the numbers of the Imperial Guard always went down, the number of Necrons almost never changed.

It was this reason why Jarod, the Inquisitor, and General Gaz all stood around a holotable in the command tent.

"We have two options…" Jarod started, "We either lead a strike team into the tomb and kill the warlord, or we get the help of the closest Adeptus Astartes. I think all of us knows which is more likely to happen."

"I happen to know a few space marines not far from here, a few systems away in fact," the Inquisitor offered, "If we could enlist their help, that would be ideal."

"Ideal, yes, but not likely to happen. Space Marines may be devastating to our enemies and they may be dedicated to the salvation of humanity, but I seriously doubt that they would stop everything just to help out some guardsmen in over their heads." Jarod explained, "Combine that with the fact that your space marines are probably on a mission of their own, I don't see us getting any support from them for at least a month, if ever."

The Inquisitor grumbled but didn't argue. Early in their discussions, he had learned how stubborn and unyielding Jarod could be, and that he rarely took any of the Inquisitors threats seriously. The fact that two of the Emperor's angels of death had his back didn't help much either.

"Well, then how are we supposed to get a strike team down into the tomb? We don't exactly have a map of the place and even if we did, I don't think it would point us to where the warlord is." The Inquisitor asked in an irate tone.

"I may actually have something on that," General Gaz interjected, "We've been taking sub-surface scans of the tomb entrance and the area surrounding it," He explained, pulling up a 3d image on the holotable, "It's incomplete, but we do have several of the tunnels mapped out, with a few rooms as well."

Jarod laughed, "Well, now we have a way to get this done!" He remarked.

The three commanders went on to discuss the plan of action. Jarod would lead a strike team into the tunnels, using seismic scans taken by the troops above ground, and from what gear he could take with him, to navigate the tunnels. Using some basic stealth techniques, they would sneak into the tomb via a side entrance that was less heavily guarded than the rest of the tomb. The reason the Inquisitor hadn't targeted this entrance for the main assault rather than the rest of the tomb was due to its small size, making the use of large numbers of infantry and armor virtually impossible. A strike team, however, was something that could slip in rather easily.

"Who will you take with you?" Gaz asked.

Jarod hummed, "The space marines most definitely, along with a squadron of my veteran guardsmen and a techpriest, the latter to help us navigate the xeno-tech down there." He explained.

The Inquisitor nodded, "Do you have someone in mind? A techpriest would help yes, but it would be better if they had some experience with Necron technology."

"I will admit I was mostly thinking of just requesting an adept from the head techpriest, but if you have someone that would be better, I'm all ears."

Karev nodded, pulling up a file of the holo-table, "This is Adept 90870, or Alek. He has assisted me when dealing with Necron technology in the past, and has gained a knack for it." he explained.

The picture of the techpriest showed a man made almost completely out of metal. Only his left eye and scalp were visibly still made of flesh, the rest of his face covered in metal, and most of his body covered in a red robe. A servo arm sprung from his back, with a three-pronged steal clamp as the main method of operation.

Jarod nodded, "Alright then, if that's everything, then we'd better get going."

[-----]

The team checked their weapons, everything ready to go. The two Astartes stood on the outskirts of the group, not really interacting with the guardsmen. At the head of the group, Jarod stood facing techpriest Alek, who was there to help them on their journey into the depths of the Necron tomb.

"Explanation: It is virtually impossible to know where the Necron warlord will be located, however, we can make an educated guess by how many defenses are set up. That, and they will likely be in the largest section of the tomb." He explained.

Jarod grunted in affirmation, "What kind of defenses should we expect? I don't think they would leave themselves unprotected."

"Speculation: Heavy defensive units, few offensive units. It is good you thought to bring the Astartes."

Jarod chuckled, glancing over to the two space Marines, "That it is."

After a few more minutes of preparation, they went in. The frontline started their assault, drawing the attention of the Necrons away, and giving the strike team a cover of stealth that was desperately needed. Though doubtless hundreds of lives would be lost, it was a small price to pay for the eventual end to the campaign.

The strike team moved silently, running through the dark tunnels only lit by the dull green glow of Necron technology and the flashlights held by the Guardsmen and the techpriest. The Astartes were well enough without the lights, their augmentations, and helmets allowing them to see just fine in the darkness. Jarod simply relied on the light of his comrades and the strength of his own senses.

Every few minutes they would stop to allow Alek to make a scan of the geological terrain, so as to extend the map, allowing for them to move further in. Several times the group had narrowly avoided slow-moving patrols of Necron warriors, their insistence on stealth making it easy to slip be undetected.

While the Guardsmen, the techpriest, and Calivar went on unabated, Alaric and Jarod noticed a gradual change as they went deeper in. Their connection to the Warp was waning. Whatever was down there had some way of dampening the Warp's influence, making it difficult for Alaric to even see through the warp. It was as if one of his senses had been dulled, and he did not like it at all.

"You're feeling it too?" Jarod asked the space marine quietly.

Alaric nodded silently, knowingly.

"I knew the Necrons were capable of dampening the warp, but this… it feels like there's a piece of glass between me and the warp. I can still feel it, and I can still sense it, but it's getting harder to manipulate," He said, raising up his hand and summoning a small ember of warp-fire, "It's not exactly a nice feeling."

Alaric hummed silently to himself, thinking on this, "Theoretical: The Necrons likely have some kind of warp inhibiting technology and wish to limit the Influence of the Immaterium. Practical: We cannot use our powers when fighting the warlord."

Jarod nodded in agreement, "That much is true. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

The group continued on in silence until the footsteps of the space marines suddenly stopped.

"Someone is missing," Calivar said neutrally, causing the guardsmen to do an emergency headcount. The space marine was right, one of them had gone missing, and no one had noticed.

"Everyone stays close together," Jarod ordered warily, "If I were to bet on it, I'd say the warlord knows we're here."

They continued on, working their way towards a large chamber, one with only one entrance and one exit. That was when they noticed another guardsman missing. Then another. The guardsmen started to panic, deciding to wrap their arms around one another in order to avoid meeting the same fate as those around them. That was when they heard the scream.

One of the guardsmen was being dragged into the wall, mechanical tendrils reaching out and wrapping themselves around the Guardsman. The only reason his screams were heard was due to the fact that several other guardsmen were currently struggling to pull him away from the mechanical construct.

Moving quickly, Alaric brought his power-sword to b.a.r.e, hacking at the tentacles and severing them, allowing the guardsman to be pulled free. The men collapsed onto one another, shoving the heavy metal tendrils off. What came next was even more worrying. The wall opened, and several more tendrils came out of the openings.

"Get to the chamber!" Alek called, his robotic voice unnaturally level considering the situation, but still filled with a tone of artificial urgency.

Calivar started shooting the tendrils with his bolter, blowing them apart with each shot, but for each one destroyed, another three were soon in its place. Alaric started hacking away as he made his way to the chamber ahead, the energy field surrounding his weapon shearing through the xeno-tech tendrils. The guardsmen began running for their lives, shooting the tendrils, their lasguns leaving scorch marks on the silver-grey metal. Jarod worked with his own power sword and laspistol, working to clear a path alongside the space marines.

One by one the Guardsmen were pulled into the walls by the tendrils, not a drop of blood hitting the floors as they were dragged into the wall, the panels closing them inside. They soon reached the door to the chamber, only Jarod, Alek, and the two space marines being the only ones who hadn't been dragged off by the cursed Xenos machines.

When the door opened and they backed inside, however, the tendrils stopped.

It took less than half a second for the Astartes to realize this, and only a second longer for Jarod and Alek. Bewildered, Jarod jumped as he heard the idle 'hmm' of a woman's voice behind him. Turning around, all present pointed their weapons in the direction of the voice, being startled at the sight of a Necron.

Its body was different from the Necron warriors slaughtering the Imperial Guard outside the tomb, that much was obvious, but if it wasn't for the coloration and clearly metal appearance, Jarod might not have realized that the creature standing before him was a Necron at all.

Standing much thinner -- all though just as tall as -- the Necron warriors, this one wore an ornate grey and yellow coat of Necrodermis, its body was made up of several silver plates of metal, each overlapping and blending into one another. It wore a tall headdress made up of the same coloration as the coat, along with holding a staff with a glowing green rod towards the end, and a pair of blades extending out to the side. Its slim figure and jutted out c.h.e.s.t made it very clear that this was a female of the Necrons, something Jarod had not been expecting.

For what felt like several minutes, neither party said anything, fully intent on simply staring each other down. That was until the warlord -- warlady? -- decided to break said silence.

"You are quite an interesting group," She said in an accented low-gothic as if she knew the language well, but it clearly wasn't her first language, "I suppose that you have come to kill me?" she asked.

The Astartes and Techpriest said nothing, leaving Jarod to do the only sensible thing, "If you would be so kind, could you please release my guardsmen? I'm sure they don't like being kept in the tight spaces between the panels and walls."

Alaric did a double-take, or the Astartes equivalent, and glanced over to Jarod. Hadn't the guardsmen just been killed by the tendrils? Or did the Rogue Trader know something that he did not?

If the Necron could raise an eyebrow, she very well would, "And how did you know they are not already dead?" She asked.

Jarod chuckled, "Well, while whatever warp-dampening device you've got turned on might stop me from altering the material realm in any real way, that doesn't mean I can sense the souls of my men." he said with a grin.

Alaric was taken aback slightly, though he recovered quicker than he would have a year ago before Jarod had shown that he had a habit of doing the impossible. He really shouldn't have been surprised, Jarod was an extremely powerful psyker after all, far more powerful than the space marine, and it was likely that Jarod could see well into the warp, even if his vision was somewhat hampered.

What happened next felt very odd to the space marine, as the Necron lady laughed, and Jarod laughed alongside her. Albeit cautiously.

"You truly are a powerful psyker indeed! I knew from the moment your species attacked this tomb that I was not dealing with my races ancient enemy." She explained. Waving her hand to the side, the walls opened up and all the guardsmen that had been captured fell out, groaning as they hit the floor, "I do apologize, but I could not be certain that I could convince you to use diplomacy if you had your small army at your back."

"I'll be honest, I'm probably the closest thing you'll ever see to the diplomat willing to talk. I'm pretty sure the space marines are gritting their teeth and the Techpriest is about ready to shoot you and then turn and shoot me." He explained, nodding to the Astartes and Alek respectively.

He wasn't wrong either. While Alaric had put a great deal of trust into Jarod and his actions, the same could not be said for the black-shield. Calivar wasn't gritting his teeth per-say, but there was a distinct frown underneath his helmet. He was totally right about Alek though, the techpriest was using every ounce of will power not to shoot the Necron and then blast Jarods head off.

The Necron chuckled, "Well, that much is obvious. If I may, could we begin negotiations? I would rather not have to lose any more of my warriors, and I severely doubt that you can replace yours with any sort of ease." She said.

Jarod nodded, lowering his laspistol and sheathing his power sword, "I agree. If you would be so kind as to call off your troops, I will do the same for mine."

The Necron hesitates for a moment before answering, the green glow of her eyes dimming slightly, "I do apologize, but I am unable to make them passive at all. I can drag them further into the tomb and order them not to actively assault your troops, but that is the most I can do." She explains.

Jarod grimaces, before turning to Alek, "Alek, would you please return to the surface and tell Inquisitor Karev and General Gaz to pull the guardsmen back to friendly lines?" He asked, before turning to Alaric, "And Alaric, would you please accompany him and the guardsmen back up to the surface? I would hate for his bias against the Necrons to affect the negotiations."

Alaric chuckled, nodding his head, "With p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e." he replied.

[-----]

"So, where do we start?" Jarod asked as he sat down at a table the Necron had brought into the room. Calivar stood menacingly behind him, the space marines bolter ready to fire at anything resembling a threat.

"I suppose introductions are in order first. I am Nevha Cleo, Lady of the Necrontyr, or as you have so fondly called them as they are now, the Necrons." She said introducing herself.

"And I am Jarod Carolinus, Rogue Trader, psyker, and generally the closest thing to a good guy this universe has." he said, "And the space marine glaring at you is Calivar, a black-shield."

"Blackshield?" Nevha asked.

"Long story short, he did something unforgivable and is looking to atone for it. He does not belong to a chapter or any creed but his own. I won't go into detail as it isn't my story to tell, but I can say that I trust him to have my back." Jarod explained.

Nevha nodded, "I must ask, what is your species? how advanced are you? You use such simple weapons to combat my people, though they are effective I must admit."

"We are Humans, or Terrans if you want to use our planet-given name. We are currently the dominant species in the galaxy, though if things continue as they are that may not be the case in the next few thousand years. We are brutal, inefficient, destructive, creative… you could probably just blurt out an adjective and you would be describing some subsection of humanity." He explained, "If you want to ask how such a species came to rise to power… well, I'm afraid to say that it was due to us being the only ones able to do so."

Nevha leaned forward, her elbows on the table and her chin resting on her folded hands, "How long has it been since the Necrons sold their souls to the C'tan?" she asked.

Jarod sighed, "It has been well over sixty million years."

The Necron lady remained silent for a good long while, her hands coming off the table to rest at her side, and her eyes turning downwards.

"Sixty million years...?" She asked weakly, her voice sounding like something inside her had broken.

Jarod nodded solemnly, "Am I to assume that you do not know how your war ended?" he asked.

Nevha shook her head silently, still looking at the surface of the table.

Jarod nodded, before going on to explain everything he knew about the war in heaven. How the Necrons sold their souls to the C'tan, and how their gods devoured them and used the husks left behind to fight a war that they had no hope of winning. How the Old Ones created the Orks, and possibly the Tyranids, how the C'tan were shattered, how the Necrons locked themselves away in their tombs, how the Eldar fell into their sick, twisted debauchery, how they birthed a new Chaos god, and finally, how the Emperor of mankind made his debut, creating a new Empire, one that had been the dominant force in the galaxy for over ten thousand years.

She remained silent throughout his entire speech. Even the tomb was deathly silent as if the ancient walls seemed to weep in silence at the state of the galaxy and its people. When his speech finished, he looked at the Necron Lady, waiting for her response.

"You say that my people reside in tombs such as these?" She asked, her voice unstable, after minutes of silence, "Without their souls? Devoid of all life and personality?"

"They do. While there is a handful that still remains somewhat sane, such as yourself, they are far and few between."

She remained silent for another moment, before asking "Tell me about your people, Jarod Carolinus. Tell me about humanity."

Jarod obliged.

[-----]

Calivar simply stared at the mortal human before him. A man that knew such knowledge that he rivaled even the most ancient librarians and recordkeepers. The space marine all but forgot the fact that they were in the process of negotiating with a Necron of all things, and instead focused on Jarod's tale. Jarod spoke of the Emperor, the Primarchs, the chaos gods, the Horus Heresy, the deaths of almost every Primarch, and the aftermath.

He found himself enraptured in the tales and found himself feeling a range of emotions that he never thought he would feel. Rage at the truth that Horus had manipulated his gene-father into destroying the homeworld of Magnus the red, despair at the tale of the Emperor's final fight with his favored son, and melancholy at the conclusion of the tale.

"And now, it is the forty-first Millenium, and there is only war."

Calivar was not a simple man. Few Astartes were, but when Jarod finished his tale… he felt so utterly small in the grand scale of the universe.

He promised himself, then, that no matter what happened, no matter what enemy he faced, he would be there to face it. He would not stand idly by as the sons and daughters of the Imperium spent their lives to protect a dying Empire.

No, Jarod had a plan, and the black-shield would stand by his side.

[-----]

Nevha sat there, unmoving, unflinching as the Human told his tale. The war fought between her race and the Old Ones. She had read the reports, of course, many of them multiple times over, but the way Jarod had described it… the brutality of it, the amount a staggering loss, was any of it worth it?

She listened as he told of the Eldar, the sworn enemies of her people, how they had conquered the galaxy, but then fallen into perpetual arrogance and hedonism. How they had come so close to reaching the heights that the Old Ones had, before falling to their own temptations. Was it worth the debauchery and hedonism? Were they truly satisfied with their lot in life?

The rise of an arrogant dictator, and the fall caused by his neglect of his sons. How he had tried to make the perfect empire, attempting to learn from their mistakes, but at the same time, falling into the same pit that all those before him had fallen into.

Arrogance.

'And now,' she wondered, 'What is my role in all of this?'

She could not be sure, gods know she may never be sure, but one thing she did know. Jarod would not be telling all of this, any of this, without some kind of goal in mind for her.

He had a plan, and she wanted to be at his side every step of the way.