II Test

                                    

                                          
He regained consciousness. Titus looked around: he was naked in an empty room with blank metallic walls and door. Laying on the cold floor he had no shackles or chains on him. No surprise, obviously his capturer had better means to keep him controlled. He was surrounded with humming and couldn't get was he on the surface or on the ship. This compartment was definitely in reality. He would recognize the warp. Titus stood up and started to wait in the middle of the room.
 - Is that loud enough? – the voice came again. It was loud but not deafening, - I need you to be able to answer me.
 - I'm listening, - Titus answered to the emptiness. The voice was too damn clear. The psyker wasn't just somewhere near but was stronger than he thought. Something else was strange.
 - You have no more that blocker, Titus Livius, - that's the reason! He reached to the nape; the finger found fresh tiny scar. – Now you have psy-conductor instead.
 Pain squeezed him, muscles strained, hearts started to beat furiously, was he a man he would die. Being Astartes he only sat on one knee gritting teeth. Pain ceased. 
 - That's how it works. I can kill you. – Titus stood up. No argue here, – what are you doing here, Titus Livius?
 - Live, - he wasn't mocking the psyker. It was an answer for the question.
 - You work for someone called Jack. 
 - Occasionally. I serve no one.
 - Whom did you serve to?
 - I guess you are not interested in names of all my gone superiors, psyker? – Titus got angry with this talk. The capturer either was testing his honesty or didn't know much himself. He will not waste the time. Let him be killed or told what was he needed for. – I'm Titus Livius, legionary of the 16th Legion Astartes, warrior of the Luna Wolves, waged war under command of Horus Lupercal.
 The silent solitude was his answer and has lasted for several hours. Titus has been waiting motionlessly.
 - I serve the God-Emperor, - declared voice in his head, – and you will serve me. Or you will die. 
 - I'll serve you, - Titus wanted to live. Now he had one more reason for – to kill that psyker.
 - Follow the servitor, – after few minutes the door clanged and opened. A servitor stood in the doorway. It had a size of a man, his whole body from the top was covered with simple floor-length folded grey robe.
 - Let me lead you, master, - the creature said in a hoarse voice and turned around. Titus followed it. He was inside an aircraft, currently grounded. It wasn't an army transport, but not exactly civilian too. Some sort arbiters or personal guard would use. The passage was low and tight for him and ended in a wider compartment with rows of empty sits. The servitor turned to him and produced a tiny manipulator from his robe and pointed with it at sits, - your belongings are there, master. We are departing in eight minutes, master.
 Titus didn't answer to the servitor and came to look at the things. It wasn't his belongings. A folded grey robe, an exact copy of one the servitor wears, laid lonely on a hard chair. No boots, no pants, no his pouch and no trace of the most important thing - his blade.
 - Where is my knife?! – the servitor didn't answer, it wasn't even in this compartment. But Titus asked the psyker. He didn't answer, and the vessel took off exactly after eight minutes. The flight was short, they didn't leave the atmosphere.
 - Kill everybody in the building I'll show you, - as soon as the engine shut down, the voice gave him command. The door opened and Titus saw another tiny corridor which must lead to the cockpit. The servitor stood there holding a lasgun with three subtle manipulators coming from his chest.
 - Your weapon is ready, master, - Titus took the tiny rifle and the serf pushed few buttons on the wall – the hatched opened with quiet pneumatic noise.
 - That servitor is intricate and expensive, maybe it belongs to the capturer, - with that thought Titus left the aircraft. It was night outside and he found himself in the unknown territory, looking like lower-hive. Which Olynthum:  didn't matter. He took a step forward.
 - To your right, - psyker told him. Titus obeyed and turned right. He's already tossed out the trigger guard: the new lasgun was too tiny for his palm. The voice has steered him for an hour among empty streets and blocks. Finally, Titus stood in front of a low dark building without trace of life. – Here it is. Kill everyone inside. I permit to take prisoners and make noise.
 He suppressed the questions about the enemy and disposition – things he would answer his sergeant or captain about. Old habit he couldn't shake off. Titus silently came to the building – not a sound. He walked it around and found no sigh of security surveillance. Titus could easily climb to the top, but the psyker said to kill everyone, so he started with ground floor. He crushed down one door looked most subtle and pointed the lasgun inside ready to shoot. Not very discreet tactic, but the psyker let him loose. He definitely needs him alive for some purpose and wouldn't let him die or be caught in ambush by some thugs. This was probably a test. And this was definitely better than standing still inside the locked compartment. Titus found himself in a corridor which surrounded the middle of the building, running across the whole perimeter. He cautiously walked it around, looking for mines or other tricks. His intrusion so far was unnoticed. Titus heard something and came to the nearest door. It was closed but not Astartes-proof. Once again, his action summoned no reaction. The inner space of the building was filled with corridors and apartments. All looked abandoned, but his nose found a trace of fresh smell. Titus followed the lead, leaving giant footprints in the dust. His nose guided him to the ladder upstairs. Still no alert or any precautions against intruders. He went up guardedly and stopped before the heavy door. His senses screamed that someone was behind it. 
 - The door is not that heavy, - the bloody voice mocked him. The forgotten and suppressed bitterness of loss showed its head. His armour. He got used to live without it. And he will live on. He took a step back and rammed the door with his shoulder. Metal bent, noises came from within and he hit it one more time. Wall around the door cracked, the door itself twisted and he heard alarmed screams. Titus kicked the door down, hurting the bare leg but it would be healed and not slow him down. Nothing will. He fired the lasgun, shooting at frightened voices and came in the lighted room. It was big and took approximately a quarter of the floor. People, mostly men, were running in panic, stumbling and colliding with each other. Plenty of weapons lies on tables filled with food, spirits and some playing cards, but no one tried to defend himself. Titus fired as fast as the rifle could observing his prey. Couple thugs noticed that he was alone reached for their pistol and got shot before drew it. Titus was in the corner of the hall in the very center of the building, to his left was a door filled with fleeting enemies, to the right another one, but that was closed and humans were not trying to escape through it. He jumped on the last thugs in the room, crushing their skulls with his lasgun butt. The next room was dark, even larger and filled with bunks, close to the door was shower zone separated with plastic curtain. People were running left in the darkness of far corner. Titus shot them in backs, not running to the unknown. It couldn't be that simple. 
 - Arbiters! Enforces! – screaming last survivors of his attack.
 - Fight back, cowards! Shoot them! – new voices joined the choir and las-charges burned the doorway where he stood. But Titus was already inside. His standard army rifle was better that the thugs' weapons and he stuck to it. No grenades were founded and he didn't soil his throat with dirty homemade liquors of killed humans. New enemies stopped shooting and coming for him, while they were away, he checked the other door – it wasn't much heavier than the one he broke down, but he had no time to deal with it. Looked like no new targets would emerge from here and that was enough. Titus picked up the broken door as a shield and took his rifle as a club, hoping that the lasgun will bear his blows. He heard enemies warily getting closer to the doorway, some of them for sure were praying for him being disappeared. He sensed their fear and he would show them more. Pursuing fleeting thugs, he had time to check the thin wall separating two zones and now crushed trough it appearing before unexpected enemies in dust and rockcrete chips. It brought a moment of pain and time enough to crush humans. Titus whirled around breaking heads and necks with the door and his rifle. Thugs fled again. He dropped the door and grabbed one of them breaking his neck and carrying him as a cover for possible ambush ahead. Titus tossed the rifle up, caught it normal way and shot two last men in the back of their heads. He run forward softly. Laser beams hit the body in his arm, he shot back and jumped sideways. New shots came to him – they must see his thermal radiation. Titus tossed the corpse forward and charged leaping from side to side, crushing bunks and rare furniture. He roared, letting them know what was going to them. Giving them the false hope to save their lives in running. His scream or a loud explosion above pushed the last shooters to fleeing. Titus descended on them struggling with elevator platform control panel, franticly pushing buttons and runes. 
 He gently pushed the blood-stained buttons bringing the old engine to work. While the small platform descending Titus checked one more door – it was closed and should lead to the same compartment as the other one he left intact. Stepping in the elevator he was ready to duck from the fire from above, but the platform went up and no one were trying to kill him. Though enemies were there, he knew it. Titus wasn't going to be a moving target from the firing range. He tossed the rifle and jumped after it, grabbed the floor of the next level and leaped forward at the unexpected thugs, sitting in ambush. His lasgun didn't hit the ground as he teared unprotected bodies of mortals, tossing them like weightless dolls. Two he killed on the charge, two he hit with their dead comrades. The fifth thug was shocked. A man, who in other circumstances would show boldness and eagerness if not honor and bravery, in front of the giant, jumped out of darkness, could do nothing. The human shivered and goggled with fear, dropped his gun. That was a reaction he recognized. That's how it should be. The psyker wants prisoners, this one will be the first. Titus broke man's legs and hands and picked up the lasgun. This floor was lighted brightly: yellow lams hang on the walls without windows, blank rockcrete looked cleaner. That counts for rich in lower-hive. Two doors were before him. He checked the one – it was absolutely empty. The second lead to the long corridor with rows of doors on every side. Looked like living apartments. It could take some time.
 - They are all in the end, - Psyker urged him, - hurry up, something going on there.
 Titus ran, looking after every door he passed. He slowed down in the end of the corridor before a wide double door. Voices were arguing behind it. He pushed one door leaf wide open and shot the closest men. His arriving caused panic, the room was wide and full of stuff: furniture, crates and boxes, lot of light. Titus smelled true food and water – something unexpected in this area of Olynthum T. Thugs didn't fight back and just ran – strange, what did they hope for? 
 - Give it to me! You've killed us all! 
 - No, idiots! – somebody got hurt to his left. He saw no enemies on the right, so moved to the scream. He ran by a lying man, he held his wounded chest and wept.
 - I just wanted to live like a man, I'm tired of running like a rat picking some garbage, - cried the aged man worn by fatigues and fear, - just wanted to feel the true life.
 - Let him be! – the psyker screamed in his mind just before Titus were going to crush the thug's head, his leg stomped the rockcrete and he moved on.
 - Why isn't it working?! Push it harder, he is coming! – his shot silenced the speaker. A thug next to him was holding some small device, unknown to Titus – it didn't look like weapon, rather some kind of vox or may be detonator. He had to deal with others first, running at him with pistols.
 - They are coming! You are dead, freak! – Titus turned to the man hysterically shaking the device. Next moment thug's hand and upper half of the body disappeared in a flash. Legs stayed where they were, no sigh of that thing whatever it was. Titus barely escaped the same fate from more common source. Plasma charge flew by and blew a hole in the wall. He was looking for the shooter but noticed that it was silent outside – no sirens of arbiters or servitor-firefighters. The psyker kept local authorities in control, he or his master had power. Not many possible answers on question who was his abductor. Titus ran backwards, if this gang had one plasma weapon, he would kill the shooter before it would be ready for the second shot. If more – his charge should fill them with fear and obstruct the aiming. The spared prisoner kept whining, couple las-beams passed him by and he shot back hearing dying scream afterwards. He saw two men aiming big guns at him. 
 - Stop where you are! – nervously cried one, - or I swear to the Emperor we'll kill you! 
 - Let us go! – screamed the second, the weapon in his shaking hands glowing blue highlighting wet face shrunk with horror. – Drop your lasgun!   
 Titus shot him in the face, the head of the second exploded by other reason. His bet it was a sniper's shot.
 - That's all, - the Psyker told him immediately.
 - I've been watched! – snapped Titus, - I needed no cover from such scums. Do you hear me, psyker?
 - Don't raise your voice, - short flash of pain came with that answer. Like a teaching strike to a dog. – Your obedience was tested here. Not your martial prowess. Take the prisoners to the roof, I'll tell you why you're still alive, Titus Livius of 16th legion.    
 Through the hole he heard approaching aircraft. Titus checked plasma weapons first – crude models, he wouldn't risk using it. He opened flasks with water and drunk few of them. It's been few days since he sipped some liquid, and his first swallow of pure water on Olynthum. Now the prisoners.
 - How to get to the roof? – he picked up wounded man. The survivor was shaking with fear and mumbled petty excuses, - shut up and show the way! Damn you, coward, - Titus stepped in the corridor, - he heard the whining of another wounded thug and came to him, - you will show me the way up the roof and get helped, - "for a brief time".
 The sniveling broken man showed the way to another hidden elevator in the big room. He was swearing that he had nothing to do with anything and just did what was told to. The pettiest excuse, Titus would break something else in the thug had he had more limbs. The platform took them to the roof. A burned flyer smoked there, it was the explosion he heard earlier. Another aircraft stood on the edge of the roof. The one he woke up in. The hatched opened showing the familiar servitor.
 - Bring them in, master, - the serf disappeared inside. Titus brought prisoners in the compartment with sits and got them seated. 
 - They are not very talkative right now, - he told servitor and checked his lasgun proved to be a nice weapon in this fight.  
 - They will be spoke to later, master, - servitor produced a multi-fingered hand, one limb ended with injector. It shot both men in necks and they slumbered. He must have many limbs this one, may be the whole body under that robe consisted from such hands made for different purposes. Did it cut out his psy-blocker? Servitor turned the hooded head to him, - may I look to your leg, master?
 - No! - his leg was alright. Servitor turned away and froze, like a turned off machine. A machine it was.
 - Those disobeying men are slavers, - psyker came back to his mind and simultaneously the servitor came to life and moved to the exit, - follow him and bring freedom to their last victims.
 Titus accompanied the servitor to the door. The serf stretched out another limb and cut a big hole in the metal, melted drops glowed in the dark. He sensed the smell of people, human excreta, antiseptic chemicals and bad food.
 - You'll be my voice, Titus. 
 - Get out, it's safe here! – he barked and tried to call the prisoners gentler, - you are safe, they are gone. Come out, the help is here. Praise the Emperor, - he added in the end.
 They came out warily and looked with horror at him as at the dead capturers. Some spat and kicked dead bodies, but most of them wiped with relief. They are all were people from lower-hive: of all ages and genders; healthy and sick; well-built and deformed from hard life; pure human and augmented. Whoever were buying them, they didn't show a peculiar taste or requirements. 
 - Take them to the craft, - he told the servitor and warned the saved crowd, - do not kill two thugs aboard.
 - Yes, my master, - servitor took a lead. 
 Titus came in the prison room. It was dark, couple dimmed lamps lighted the lavatory and feeding areas. He found two corpses and one man too weak to move. Titus took all three of them to the flyer. 
 - We are departing in couple minutes, master, - the servitor greeted him, closed the hatch and turned to the cockpit. 
 - Wait! – called him Titus, dropped dead bodies and showed a still breathing man to the serf, - ease his suffer.
 - I obey, master, - servitor gave the human a shot and disappeared.
 Titus came to the passenger compartment filled with released people. Some were softly crying, sitting alone. Others gathered in small companies seeking for comfort in sharing the pain. Few strong enough to keep alert looked at him suspiciously, was the giant a true savior or just another torturer. 
 - Get away of him, - he commanded to one who stared angry at knocked out prisoner with shot breast. The one with broken limbs sat dead, - fasten belts, we are flying soon.  
 - We have been tested! God-Emperor has tested our faith, - preached one woman with both hands below elbows replaced with crude manipulators, - the ones who believe in Him truly are saved now!
 - Shut up, you fool! – barked a man from another side of compartment.
 - The Emperor protected his loyal servants, - she stretched scratched limbs to him, - He sent his warrior to save us from the perils.
 - You are His hand! – another man fell to the knees before him and raised wet face, - you are His warrior!
 - Go and faster the damn belt! – growled the Titus.