Lukas the Trickster

by Josh Reynolds

  ‘And no sign of the Harlequins,’ he murmured. ‘How odd.’ Presumably, whatever scheme they had concocted had either succeeded or failed. He doubted he would ever find out which. That was the trouble with the clowns – they never let you in on the joke until it was too late to appreciate it.

  As the Raider rose, he saw flashes of light streaking across the ice fields in the distance. He smiled and waved to the approaching Space Wolves. Midwinter had passed, and now the hunters left the wilderness to return to their entertainments. ‘Ah well, it was fun while it lasted.’

  His Raider shuddered slightly as it passed through the aperture and then through the striated convolutions of the webway beyond. Seconds later, his Raider was sliding into the labyrinthine assault bay of the Incessant Agony. Alarm klaxons were sounding, Raiders were docking at their berths all around him, and plunder was already being unloaded. It was a pleasing sort of madhouse. Cheers went up at the sight of him.

  He accepted their adulation with quiet restraint. A few dignified waves would serve as acknowledgement. Most of them ignored him, too busy seeing to preparations for imminent departure. They would leave the system as soon as he reached the command deck.

  The Raider slid into an open berth, and Sliscus waited impatiently at the rail as a boarding plank extended from the dock. A slave was waiting on him. ‘Report,’ he said as the plank locked into place.

  ‘Ah, the… ah… the system defence fleet is en route. Ribald Blade is running interference with the rest of the fleet. But they seem… ah… very intent on getting back here.’

  Sliscus laughed. With the fading of the storm, the planet’s isolation had been broken. Reports must be filtering back to the Space Marines about what was occurring. They had seen his stratagem for what it was and ordered their fleet back to cut off his escape. But there wasn’t a mon-keigh ship built that could outrun Incessant Agony.

  ‘Let them come. I cannot think of a better way to end this celebration than by humiliating them in the void as I humiliated them on the ground.’

  ‘I wouldn’t call it humiliation, exactly. Does a flea humiliate a wolf?’

  Sliscus spun. A familiar face surrounded by a mane of red hair grinned at him over the barrel of the Raider’s disintegrator cannon, now aimed at the deck. ‘My name is Lukas, by the way,’ the Space Wolf said. ‘If you were wondering.’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ Sliscus said. Warriors swarmed towards the gunner’s dais. The barrel of the cannon rose, and Sliscus flung out his hands. ‘Back. Back!’ If the cannon fired, it would punch a hole right through the deck and into the anti-gravity engines. ‘Might I inquire how you came to be here?’

  ‘I sneaked aboard,’ Lukas said. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. ‘Nice ship. Lots of room. Too many xenos, though. Might have to air it out a bit.’

  Intrigued despite himself, Sliscus said, ‘Tell me, how did you know which was mine?’

  ‘Oh, that was easy,’ Lukas said, leaning over the cannon. ‘I looked for the nicest one.’ His grin was wide and feral. ‘You didn’t really think I was going to let you slither away that easily, eh?’ His thumbs twitched over the activation glyphs, and Sliscus tensed, ready to duck aside. Lukas licked his teeth as if in anticipation. ‘Tell me, does your kind have the story of the boy who swallowed a kraken?’

  ‘No, I can’t say that we do.’

  ‘Pity. As you said, familiarity adds spice.’ Lukas turned the cannon on its plinth until it was aimed at a Raider docked in a nearby berth. He fired, and the skiff vanished in flames. Lukas spun the cannon, holding down the triggers. Particles of unstable matter burst over the docking ring, and delicate equipment exploded obligingly.

  The Space Wolf howled with laughter as he raked the cavernous interior of the bay and much of what it contained with destructive energies. The Incessant Agony shook as the wolf it had inadvertently swallowed tore at its guts. Sliscus stumbled into the rail, the docking platform shuddering wildly. ‘Someone kill him!’ he shrieked.

  Corsairs raced towards the dais, only to meet their deaths as the Space Wolf swung the cannon around and targeted them. Beams of energy punched through the ethersail and swept across the rail. Sliscus was flung to the deck, narrowly avoiding the beam as it passed overhead. He scrambled back to his feet, gripping the smouldering rail for support. Alarms wailed. The bay was an inferno. Skiffs burned, as did the docking ring. Fires roared out of control, despite desperate slaves and crew fighting to contain them. If they weren’t quick, the fires might well compromise the ship’s ability to escape the system.

  ‘Vent the bay,’ Sliscus shouted, trying to be heard over the klaxons. He gestured sharply to the nearby crew stations. ‘Do it now, before it causes a chain reaction!’ Long moments later, the bottom of the bay swung open with a torturous roar of metal and escaping atmosphere. The broken gantries and berths tore loose of the framework as the void reached out to claim what it could. Burning Raiders and those unlucky enough to still be on them tumbled downwards, caught in the sudden decompression.

  Lukas swung the disintegrator cannon around and fired at the crew stations, preventing them from closing the bay. Sliscus cursed and ­scrambled towards him. He fired his pistol, but Lukas leapt over the prow rail and out of sight. Sliscus hit the rail and peered over. Lukas grinned up at him from where he clung to the curve of the prow. The plasma pistol in his hand spat, forcing Sliscus to duck back.

  He was over the rail a moment later, sword in hand. Lukas tackled him, and they rolled across the sweep of the prow. Sliscus struck him in the face with the pommel of a sword and sprang to a nearby gantry. He extended a blade in invitation. ‘Come on then, Wolf. You have come all this way. Don’t be shy now. Duke Traevelliath Sliscus awaits you.’

  Lukas leapt from the wounded skiff to the gantry, landing heavily. Sliscus retreated as he rose to his feet. ‘Is that what they call you, then?’ Lukas twitched a finger in a come-hither gesture. ‘Come then, Duke. You and I must have words.’

  Sliscus smiled and stepped back. ‘I can hear you from here, Wolf.’

  Lukas shrugged and, quick as his namesake, bounded towards his foe. ‘I think not,’ he said with a laugh, bringing his claw down. Sliscus twitched aside and the claw carved long gouges in the hull plate behind him. Lukas caught a handful of the corsair’s hair and yanked him back. Their foreheads connected, and Sliscus staggered with a grunt. Lukas swiped at him again, driving him back a step.

  Sliscus bent away from the blow. He spun, blade slashing up and down. One of Lukas’ braids fell to the deck, sliced neatly from his head. ‘You are cunning, Wolf. Slippery. More so than I expected.’ Sliscus took a firmer grip on the hilt of his blade. ‘But cunning has its limits.’

  ‘Even yours,’ Lukas growled. He flexed his claw. Energy crawled along the talons, casting weird shadows across the cramped confines of the bay.

  ‘I have no limits,’ Sliscus said. ‘At least, none that I am aware of. But by all means, come and see if you can teach me.’

  Lukas leapt. Sliscus ducked aside, a graceful shadow. The Strifeson’s claw slammed down, tearing through conduits and cables in an explosion of sparks. Lukas tore his talons free and spun, but too late. The dark eldar’s blade danced across his ribs, slicing through ceramite as easily as if it were paper. Sliscus laughed and sprang back as Lukas lashed out at him. ‘Close, Wolf. Close. But my fangs are deadlier than yours, by far.’

  Lukas growled low in his throat and glanced down at the wound. He could feel something burning within him. He laughed even as he staggered. ‘Poison?’

  ‘Ah, the Wolf has a palate.’ Sliscus extended his blade. ‘But no, not poison. Psycho-vampiric circuitry. I look forward to seeing what it does to an augmented freak of nature like you.’

  ‘I’ll give you a closer look.’ Lukas lurched as if falling, and then sprang, laughing. Unprepared, Sliscus ducked back, but not quickly enough. Lukas clipped him with the edge of his cla
w, and the corsair yelped in pain. Sliscus rolled away and came up swiftly, his blade singing out. Lukas ducked and drew his plasma pistol. Before he could fire, Sliscus’ blade chopped through the barrel. Lukas tossed the useless weapon aside and fell back.

  ‘An amusing diversion, Wolf. But that is all you are. Just another animal for the arena. And there can be only one ending for your sort, long overdue though it may be.’ Sliscus slid forward as Lukas scrambled away.

  ‘What is everyone’s fascination with my death?’ he asked, rolling aside as Sliscus’ blade sliced through the gantry. He lashed out with his feet, hoping to smash his opponent’s legs out from under him. Sliscus leapt upwards, avoiding the blow. He landed in a crouch, his sword slicing through Lukas’ thigh.

  Lukas staggered against the rail, his vision blurring. Something burned at the back of his throat, and he was having trouble drawing breath. His enhanced biology was struggling against whatever the blade had done to him. Before he could push himself away from the rail, Sliscus was behind him. The sword pierced his back-plate, tore through his flesh and skidded off his hardened ribcage. It emerged from his chest-plate and pierced the metal of the rail, pinning him there.

  Sliscus cursed and set his foot against Lukas’ back, trying to lever the blade free. Lukas, choking on his own blood, raised his wolf claw and split the rail. It burst away from the gantry and he toppled forward, dragging an unprepared Sliscus with him.

  They tumbled to the next gantry below, landing in a painful heap. The sword was jostled free of Lukas’ abdomen. Still on his knees, his free hand clapped to the wound, Lukas swiped out with his claw, tearing Sliscus’ cloak to ragged tatters.

  The ship shuddered. Sparks cascaded down accompanied by loosened debris, momentarily separating them. Breathing heavily, Lukas hauled himself up. He could see more eldar racing along the nearby gantries. Hurt as he was, he wasn’t going to be able to fight his way out. ‘Grimblood was right. That’s disappointing.’

  Sliscus emerged from the smoke, a blade in either hand. ‘Your mistake was in thinking that you could ever beat me in my own ship. This is my hunting ground, and I am master here.’

  ‘Wolves don’t have masters,’ Lukas said. His hand fell to his combat harness. He only had a few grenades left. Pulling them all loose, he activated them with a sweep of his thumb. He flung them out, and they rattled along the gantries before exploding. The gantry they were standing on creaked as the explosions weakened its support struts.

  Seeing Sliscus stagger as the gantry swayed, Lukas leapt. His claw closed on one of Sliscus’ blades and he snapped it off at the hilt. He tried to backhand the corsair, but Sliscus ducked away. The eldar drew his pistol and fired. Lukas interposed his wolf claw at the last moment, and the blast washed across the gauntlet. He felt a prickling heat and smelled liquefying metal. Instinctively, he disengaged the clamps and seals that kept the claw in place, discarding it. What was left of it splashed to the gantry. Off balance, he turned back towards Sliscus, only to see the corsair readying another shot.

  ‘Skítja,’ Lukas yelped, lunging forward. Sliscus didn’t hesitate. His second shot struck Lukas in the chest. The Trickster stumbled back, the gantry rail digging into his waist. Toxic fumes enveloped him as he swatted ineffectually at the bubbling mass eating its way through his chest-plate. He snarled as the first flickers of pain reached him.

  ‘Do you like it?’ Sliscus held up the pistol. ‘Liquifier pistol. Discharges an incredibly potent acid derived from the caustic blood of some beast or other. It will eat right through that armour of yours, and the flesh beneath as well.’

  Lukas groaned and slumped. An acrid smoke billowed up from the concave ruin of his chest-plate, and he could feel the acid eating away at his body. He sank down, his nerve endings screaming. The fingers of his gauntlets blackened as he tried to scrape the acid away. Moments later it began to dry out and flake, leaving a gaping hole in its wake.

  ‘It evaporates quickly, however. The pain alone is enough to kill most prey. But you are not most prey, are you? No. You are clever meat. And clever meat deserves a reward.’ Sliscus stepped towards Lukas and tossed the pistol aside. He drew a cruelly barbed knife from his belt. He sank down beside Lukas and wrenched the sections of his weakened armour apart, exposing his chest.

  ‘I’ll carve out that cunning heart and keep it by my bedside,’ Sliscus hissed, raising the blade. Lukas struggled to rise, but the eldar’s grip was strong. The knife sank into his chest, cutting through carapace and reinforced bone with ease. Lukas caught at Sliscus’ forearm, fighting against the pain that threatened to overwhelm him. But it was no use.

  With a dreadful, wet sound, his secondary heart came free of his chest. Lukas gasped in agony and sagged back, choking on his own blood. Sliscus held the heart up, admiring it. ‘Smaller than I imagined,’ he murmured.

  Darkness crept in at the edges of Lukas’ consciousness. Even a Space Wolf had limits, and Lukas had reached his. Grimblood had been right, damn him. But he couldn’t leave without one last laugh. The guttural sound slipped from his blistered lips, gaining strength even as his body lost it.

  ‘What are you laughing about?’ Sliscus demanded, glancing away from his gory trophy. He leaned close, grabbing a handful of Lukas’ scalp. ‘Answer me.’

  Lukas grinned, saliva bubbling in his mouth. ‘You aren’t the only one who can play with acid,’ he said thickly. He hawked and spat. Sliscus reeled, screaming shrilly. The corsair staggered back, his hands clasped to his smoking features. The world spinning about him, Lukas caught the edge of the gantry and dragged himself over the edge. The stars beckoned, and he joined the tide of wreckage still being vented from the ship.

  He fell slowly, striking the edge of the lower bay and spinning out into the welcoming black, Sliscus’ screams echoing in his ears.

  The Incessant Agony shuddered as it left Fenris’ orbit, alarm klaxons sounding. Sliscus slumped back against the broken rail, cradling his burnt face. He needed to get to the command deck, to take charge. But for the moment, he could do nothing but sit and wait for the pain to recede.

  Slaves surrounded him in helpless panic, and he thrust them away, conscious of his warriors’ gazes. ‘Get away. Get away!’ He dragged himself to his feet, blinking back stinging tears. There was no telling what the Wolf’s spittle had done to his face, but he had survived worse. It could be repaired.

  Or maybe he wouldn’t. He might well decide to keep the scars, as a reminder to go with his trophy. Through blurring vision, he examined his prize. ‘The Wolf’s heart,’ he murmured, remembering the Harlequin’s prophecy. He smiled, but it twisted into a wince as pain flared through his ravaged features. ‘Nearly undone by a metaphor. What a ridiculous way to die.’

  ‘Silly Serpent. Death is for secondary characters.’

  Sliscus looked up through blurring vision. The Shadowseer crouched on a shattered strut nearby, watching him. Given the situation, he wasn’t surprised to see her. He attempted a crooked smile, and new wounds opened on his ravaged face. ‘And am I a main character, then, in whatever little drama you have concocted?’

  ‘You served your purpose well, Duke. Done as the part demanded, and with such style.’ The Harlequin leaned towards him, her movements unnaturally smooth even for an eldar. She reached out as if to touch his injured face. He flinched back.

  ‘I do everything with style,’ he growled. ‘And I need no instruction from you.’ He pulled himself to his feet. Below, through the open bay, he could see Fenris turning. A blue, hateful blotch on the stars. The Harlequin watched him, head tilted. He held out the heart. ‘Do you want this?’

  The Harlequin rose to her full height. ‘We merely wanted the absence of it. Do with it as you see fit.’

  Sliscus smiled. ‘I’ll hold on to it, then. A keepsake to remember this little affair by.’ He watched the world below dwindle as the Incessant Agony departed for the safety of deep space. He could
already feel the faintest edge of boredom sliding against his nerves. He would have to find new entertainments with which to occupy himself, once he had healed.

  Perhaps Aurelia was right. Perhaps it was time to return to Commorragh and remind himself why he had left in the first place. And wouldn’t Vect be surprised to see him? And Aurelia, too, if she had managed to get off Fenris. There was much fun to be had, if you knew where to look.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ll ever tell me what this was all about, will you?’ he said finally. There was no answer. When he looked around, the Harlequin was gone.

  He snorted. Typical. He looked down at the heart. ‘Lukas,’ he murmured. ‘I will remember that.’

  Epilogue

  TRICKSTER’S HEART

  641.M41

  ‘You did what?’ Grimblood roared. His bellow echoed throughout the Aett’s apothecarium. Trays rattled against stone as thralls scattered.

  Lukas winced and stuck a finger in his ear. ‘Not so loud, jarl. I’m still feeling delicate.’ He had been in the apothecarium for days, since the system fleet found him floating in the upper atmosphere like a piece of space junk. That he had survived at all was a miracle. His chest felt as if it had been cored out and scraped raw. An expanse of newly made scar tissue covered his bare chest. He touched it gingerly. The flesh around it was puffy and tender.

  ‘Quiet,’ Grimblood snarled. He pointed at Thymr, who stood at the foot of the examination slab. ‘I asked you a question, brother.’

  ‘He made a very convincing argument,’ Thymr said, somewhat sheepishly. The Iron Priest’s cybernetic eye whirred as he looked back and forth between them, and the trio of medical servitors standing nearby copied the gesture. The thin automatons hunched within multi-limbed medicae harnesses, their withered organic hands bound tight to their sunken chests. A variety of sensory apparatuses hid their features from view. The harnesses’ twitching limbs were still stained with Lukas’ blood from their excavation of his wounded chest to make the necessary modifications.