[Necromunda 10] - Lasgun Wedding

by Will McDermott - (ebook by Undead)

  “Helmawr’s rump!” screamed Feg.

  Wotan landed next to Kal, a long line of tubing hanging out of his mouth. He dropped the tube and licked Kal in the ears, eyes and down into his open mouth. Kal pushed Wotan’s face away and looked up at Feg.

  Liquid spewed out the top of his mechanical arm. Hydraulic fluid released like a fountain when Wotan ripped the hose out of Feg’s shoulder. As the big man vainly tried to stem the tide of fluid from the housing of his mechanical arm, Vandal’s weight shifted just enough for Kal to push him off and sit up.

  Kal wasted no time. He reared back and punched Vandal right where he knew it would hurt the most. Vandal Feg might be a monstrously large, armoured man with a mechanical arm and attached chainsword, but he was a man nonetheless. A quick jab to the groin was all Kal really needed to bring him to his knees. Literally.

  Feg doubled over and fell to the ground. Kal stood up, grabbed his weapons and stood over the groaning man. He bolstered his guns and then slipped his sabre into the tangle of remaining hoses snaking around Vandal’s head. With a quick flip of his wrist, Kal slit the hoses. The hoses hissed and gushed as they flopped around like live snakes spewing gas and liquid all over the ground.

  “Kal!” yelled Scabbs, running up beside him finally. “The satchel!”

  Then Kal saw it. The hydraulic fluid and compressed gas jetting out of the hoses had pushed the satchel to the brink of the chasm.

  Before Kal could react, the satchel tipped over the lip and fell away. Scabbs dived forward, sliding over the edge as well. Kal dropped his sword again and fell to his knees. His hands shot out and he grabbed Scabbs by the ankles just before he slid into the darkness.

  Scabbs’ weight pulled Kal towards the edge. He fell onto his chest and slid towards the chasm as well. As his chest went over the edge, Kal felt a sharp pain in his rear. He heard Wotan growl as he held onto Kal by his trousers.

  “Back, Wotan,” called Kal. “Pull back, boy!”

  Wotan dug his claws into the stone floor of the tunnel and began inching his way back. Kal’s biceps screamed at him and his forearms ached from the strain. After what seemed an eternity, he dragged his arms back up over the edge. Once he got purchase again, Kal slipped his legs under him and pulled Scabbs out of the chasm.

  His half-ratskin companion flopped to the ground next to him. When he rolled over, Kal saw the satchel hugged against his chest.

  “We’ve got to stop doing that,” said Scabbs. Kal sat down next to Scabbs. “I agree,” he said. “That really wasn’t as much fun as it looked.”

  “Just how much fun was it?” asked a familiar voice. Wotan growled.

  “Aw scav,” said Kal, looking up. “Nemo’s here.”

  Nemo stood behind the still foetal Vandal Feg with at least a half-dozen of his goons. All of them, Nemo included, held weapons pointing at Kal and Scabbs. The light from Feg’s beam glinted off Nemo’s pitch black helmet and the goon’s weapons, but the rest of Nemo’s black-clad body was cast in shadow. “You didn’t really think you could win against me, did you, Kal?”

  “You do have history on your side, Nemo, but I figured I was due,” said Kal. He grabbed the satchel from off Scabbs’ chest.

  “You know the odds never change,” said Nemo. “No matter how many times you lose.”

  “Perhaps,” said Kal, “But we’re not in your house today.” He flung the satchel down the tunnel and called out, “Wotan, fetch!”

  Before Nemo or his men could react, the metal mastiff bolted into the dark after the satchel. Kal rolled over Scabbs, and whispered, “run!” He got to his knees and pulled out his laspistols. Firing several shots at Nemo and his men, Kal jumped to his feet and ran down the tunnel after Wotan. He heard Scabbs scrambling to his feet behind him.

  Las blasts hit the walls and floor all around Kal. He dodged back and forth in the tunnel. As he came upon Wotan holding the satchel in his mouth. Kal yelled, “Wotan! Follow!” The mastiff skidded to a halt, jumped, and pivoted in mid air, coming down beside Kal in full gallop. “Good dog!”

  Kal glanced back and saw Scabbs a few metres behind him. “Duck!” he called. Scabbs crouched down as he ran and Kal let loose several blind shots, which he hoped would at least slow down their pursuers.

  “Where are we going?” yelled Scabbs in between wheezing breaths.

  “Away from Nemo!” called Kal back.

  “But, Kal…” said Scabbs. His breathing was getting laboured and he could barely talk. “This tunnel comes out in the Ash Wastes.”

  “I know,” said Kal. “You told me about it already, remember?”

  “But… muties… and heat… and… toxic… air,” said Scabbs. “We can’t last out there.”

  “Fine,” said Kal. “You stop here and fight off Nemo.”

  “Never mind,” said Scabbs.

  For a time there was only silence, broken every few moments by the sound of las blasts behind them. Kal turned and returned fire, but in the dark nobody had much chance of hitting anyone, which was fine because Kal didn’t really care if he hit anything, but he did care if he got hit.

  Luckily they were past all the chasms, so Kal only had to worry about hitting the walls. After the first couple of collisions, he holstered one gun and kept his fingers running along the wall as he ran. Wotan and Scabbs didn’t seem to have any trouble, though.

  “Can you see?” asked Kal.

  “Yeah,” said Scabbs. “Pretty well.”

  “Then shoot at the bad guys!”

  “Oh, right,” said Scabbs.

  Kal heard Scabbs fire off several blasts behind him and thought he heard at least one body fall back up the tunnel.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Kal. He turned to shoot again just in time to see the tell-tale flash of fire from a grenade launcher. “Aw, scav. Dive for cover!”

  The tunnel exploded around Kal. He flew forward, rolling down the incline and smacking into the wall. Wotan stopped next to him, the satchel still hanging out of his mouth. Kal pointed down the tunnel. He could just see the opening into the Ash Wastes below. “Wotan!” he said. “Deliver!”

  The mastiff ran off towards the tunnel mouth as Kal dragged himself back to his feet. He looked around for his laspistols but couldn’t see them. He scanned the nibble behind him for Scabbs but didn’t see him either.

  What he did see was a beam of light bobbing along the tunnel just past the pile of debris. Kal tried to run, but a sharp pain shot up his leg as his knee gave out beneath him. He fell to the ground and screamed.

  Kal tried to pull himself down the tunnel, but then gave up. As Feg, Nemo and the goons crawled over and around the pile towards him, Kal said, “Well, at least now I won’t have to get married tomorrow.”

  “Perhaps,” said Nemo. He pointed his gun at Kal with one hand while holding Feg back with the other. “But your precious father won’t live to see his empire crumble, either.”

  “Wrong on both points,” said another voice.

  Kal turned to see the silhouette of either a monster or a large man in power armour. He opted for the second. “Captain!” he called. “Good of you to join us.”

  “I’d have been here sooner,” said Katerin, “But I had to take a slight detour.”

  The tunnel opening behind Katerin darkened as an entire platoon of royal soldiers filed inside. Someone behind them all called out, “Lights!” and the tunnel flared to near daylight as a dozen beams came to life.

  Kal leaned against the wall and pushed himself up to one foot. “Looks like I win after all,” said Kal. But when he turned back to gloat at Nemo, the master spy and his men were already gone.

  Vandal Feg, however, remained behind just at the far edge of the debris. “Next time, Jerico,” he said, before vanishing into the darkness. “Watch your back,” he called from up the tunnel. “I’ll be waiting for you. And you won’t have daddy’s men to fight your battles for you.”

  Kal ignored him. Vandal wasn’t the problem. He could handle that big, dumb ox…
always had. Nemo, however, did not take kindly to losing. That would definitely cost Kal in the future.

  “Want me to send my men up after them?” asked Katerin.

  “No,” said Kal. “We need to dig my guns out of this pile. Oh, and Scabbs is under there somewhere, too.”

  “Where’s the package?” asked Katerin.

  “Oh scav!” said Kal. “You didn’t see…” He hobbled down the tunnel, pushing Katerin’s men out of the way. “Wotan!” he called. “Wotan. Return, Wotan!”

  Some time later, Kal sat aboard Katerin’s transport as a med tech tended to the gash in his leg. He patted his holsters and sword sheath, happy to have his weapons back where they belonged. Wotan had curled up at his feet, while Scabbs scowled at him from across the aisle.

  The little half-ratskin was covered from head to toe in dust, which did nothing to help his looks. “I heard what you said back there, Jerico,” said Scabbs. “You were more worried about your guns than me.”

  “Oh, come on, Scabbs,” said Kal. “If I’d been really worried about you, I would have dug you out myself. But you’re a survivor. How many times have you been blown up since we’ve been together?”

  Scabbs thought for a minute. “I dunno. A lot I guess.”

  “There you go,” said Kal, smiling. “Being with me is downright lucky, isn’t it. You get blown up all the time and yet here you are!”

  “I guess so,” said Scabbs. He picked at a large piece of dead skin hanging off his elbow as dust cascaded from his body onto the floor. “You did save my life back there.”

  “That I did,” said Kal. “Looks like you owe me one, huh?”

  “Um, sure Kal,” said Scabbs. “Thanks, I guess.”

  Kal looked back at Katerin. “We should be going, Captain. My father is a sick man, you know.”

  Katerin closed the hatch. A moment later, a huge explosion rocked the transport. “Just closing that tunnel for good before we leave,” he said.

  “Good idea,” said Kal. “You can just drop us back at the docks on your way up to the Spire.”

  Katerin shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “You’re along for the whole ride. Only a few more hours until your wedding.”

  Kal sputtered. “B-b-but… you’ve got the medicine. That was the deal. I get the medicine back, and in exchange I get to skip the whole getting married part of this stupid plan.”

  “Only problem with that,” said Katerin, “is that there’s still an assassin loose in the Spire who wants you and Lord Helmawr dead.”

  “So,” said Kal, “everyone thinks better me than Helmawr in the crosshairs, huh? Well I don’t think so.”

  Just then the transport took off.

  “You don’t understand, Jerico,” said Katerin. He wiped the sweat from his bald head. “You don’t have a choice.”

  Kal looked around the transport. The entire platoon of royal guards had their lasguns drawn and pointing at Kal. “Ah, I see,” said Kal. “It’s to be a lasgun wedding, then? Fine. I damn well better get paid hazard duty for this.”

  He looked over at Scabbs again, who had a huge white smile on his ash-grey face. “What are you so happy about?” asked Kal.

  “I get to go to your wedding,” said Scabbs. “In the Spire no less. This will be great. We should send someone to find Yolanda. She wouldn’t want to miss this.”

  Yolanda stood in the middle of the sunlit room, grumbling. “Stupid Jerico,” she said. “This is all his fault… again!” She screamed as a pin stuck her in the leg.

  “Watch that!” she called down at the seamstress. “Helmawr’s rump. There’s no way I am going through with this.”

  Her father walked around from behind her and said, “But you look beautiful, Yolanda. That wedding dress has been in the family for generations. It’s worth a fortune.”

  “Besides,” said another voice in the back of the room. “This union will be good for both families.”

  Yolanda turned around, kicking the seamstress as she tried to scoot around with her.

  “Valtin,” she said. “I liked you much better when you were huddled on the ground in the vampire’s lair than now that you’re lord muckety muck of House Helmawr.”

  “Lord Chamberlain,” said Valtin. “And don’t you forget it. I can make or break you and your father, and I will for the good of House Helmawr and Hive Primus. Go through with the wedding and your house will reap the benefits. Fail me and there won’t be a hole deep enough for you to crawl down to escape my wrath, you or your Wildcats!”

  Her father clasped his hands together. “Please, darling?” he pleaded. “For me? Do this and I will never again ask you for anything. You can go do whatever you want with your life.”

  Yolanda scowled at them both, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. She was trapped again in the Spire with no way to even warn the Wildcats of what was hanging over their heads. She had to see this through to the end.

  “Can you at least attach a sword sheath to this dress?” she asked. “Or a holster? I feel naked without my weapons.”

  CHAPTER TEN:

  LASGUN WEDDING

  Bobo crawled through the ductwork, grumbling. “Everyone else gets a plush seat for the wedding except me,” he said as he pushed the sniper rifle ahead of him through the cramped pipe. “No, I get to watch everything from the comfort of a metal box.”

  He’d switched back to his old Hive City clothes. He didn’t want to get his Jackal Bristol silks filthy crawling through the air vents. As it was, he wished he’d picked up some filter plugs for his nostrils. He’d kicked up so much dust he was afraid he’d sneeze right in the middle of the ceremony.

  He stopped to wipe his face again with his sleeve. At least it wasn’t much farther to the spot indicated on the map by Mr. Smythe. Bobo turned a corner in the duct and moved down a short way to a dead-end. He peered through the vent grate and sighed. Just as the map indicated, he was at the rear of the chapel. “Best seat in the house,” he said, and tried to get comfortable, which was impossible in the cramped quarters.

  He gave up and just lay down with his head propped up over the rifle so he could see down into the chapel. It was an enormous, triangular room with huge banks of windows on the two walls opposite Bobo. A white marble dais stood just in front of the sunlit corner in front of row upon row of velvet-lined chairs. Massive gold and silver candles — each emblazoned with a foot-tall image of the Helmawr crest in red wax — lined the rows of chairs.

  Behind the dais rose a giant archway sculpted from ice with heads of at least twenty animals sculpted up and down both sides of the arch. Bobo had no idea what most of them were, but he’d seen pictures of some. He recognized the lion, the bear, the elephant and the unicorn. The rest were more fantastical with double heads or long snouts and intricately carved horns and tusks. The archway sculpture, itself had been designed with multiple facets that reflected the light from the windows into hundreds of rainbows throughout the chapel.

  Below him, Bobo could hear the sound of running water. He looked down as far as he could and saw six fountains set in a geometric design. They sprayed water from one to another around the perimeter and even across through the streams in a hypnotic dance. The water itself somehow changed colours through a wide spectrum as it jumped around its beautiful circuit.

  In the back left corner of the room sat a massive brass and iron automata with tubes ranging from a few centimetres to more than a metre in diameter, flaring out in all directions from a central bronze ball measuring at least five metres across. A servitor stood beside the ball, waiting; for what, Bobo didn’t know.

  The rest of the chapel was bedecked in all manner of flowers. Some Bobo recognized from Ran Lo’s garden, which made him worry about the fate of the guests. The rest added to the rainbow of colours throughout the hall with both flowers and leaves of every imaginable hue. Some even seemed to radiate their own light, glowing purple or yellow or red and almost pulsing in the bright room.

  Above it all hung giant crystals roughly a
metre in length. At first Bobo thought they were simply there to catch the light rays from the ice arch and continue reflecting them, but as he looked at them, he could see they were generating their own illumination. He began to realize that he could even feel their power as they thrummed with some inner energy. Those worried him almost more than the carnivorous plants from the Ran Lo gardens.

  Bobo let out a low whistle as he took in the spectacle. “They sure know how to throw away money up here,” he said. He shushed himself as the crystals flared to life with light and a melodious, humming music that seemed to have a life of its own. Shortly afterwards, the ushers began showing the guests to their seats.

  “This is ridiculous,” said Kal. “I look like a general from the pansy brigade.” He pulled the military dress coat off and, before anyone could stop him, ripped it from hem to collar. “The trousers are okay,” he said, “but I think I’ll need a different coat. Something more befitting Kal Jerico, Lord of the Underhive.”

  “I think you mean Lord of the Hive,” said Scabbs. He looked equally ludicrous in his suit jacket and cummerbund. He kept reaching inside his ruffled shirt to scratch at his stomach and chest. He must have seen Kal staring, because he said, “This thing itches.”

  “What?” said Kal. “Your body?”

  “Luckily,” said Kauderer. “We do have one other jacket you can use. Interestingly, it was fashioned for your half-brother, Armand, before he went crazy and turned into a mass murderer.”

  “Sounds promising,” said Kal.

  Katerin came running in with the new coat. It was still obviously a military dress coat, but it was definitely more in the Kal Jerico style than the bright purple thing they’d tried to foist on him. Kal slipped it on and it felt like he’d been wearing it all his life.

  “Perfect,” he said. He reached for his weapons belt.