Omega - Chapter 10

• Posted by Andrew Shepherd December 5, 2015 - 1,063 views

  Omega - Chapter 10

   

  TOC 

   

  Leaving the smoking ruin of the town of Winterhold behind, Maxim and Thorne set off across the ice-sheets that extended from the coast line and out into the Sea of Ghosts. The strain of having been irradiated and maintaining his aetherial form was showing on Maxim and he was becoming unsteady on his feet. Thorne was unable to support the ghostly warrior in this form and felt rather helpless.

  "Are you alright, Maxim?" he inquired. Maxim's distant voice sounded fatigued.

  "I am weary but I will be fine," he replied. "In this form I exist between the realms of the living and the dead. I see the faces of the ghosts of Winterhold. They all reach out to me and it is quite taxing." Thorne tried to change the subject to distract him.

  "Who is this archmage we are going to see out in this godforsaken place?" he asked. "Why is he imprisoned here and not at the college." Maxim stopped and turned to the soldier, staring.

  "I will say this only once, Thorne. The archmage was at the center of another great cataclysm that not only nearly destroyed Winterhold, but possibly almost the whole of creation." his voice was as hard as his glare. "Most think he was destroyed during this event, but he was not. In the aftermath I imprisoned him out here so he could do no more harm. But Tolfdir seemed to think he could turn the tide against our new enemy. Better the daedra you know. Perhaps Tolfdir was right."

  Maxim continued to walk. "Do not ask his name, nor anything more about or to him. I will keep him close and wield him like a weapon, for he is deadly to both friend and foe." Perplexed, Thorne simply nodded and walked beside his friend. He had not seen him so serious before and Maxim was a serious person. Suddenly the soldier noticed his geiger counter had ceased to crackle.

  "Maxim, the radiation has reached safe levels. You can come back to reality." Maxim materialized instantly and then dropped to his knees on the ice, sucking in the frigid air. Thorne watched for a minute as the warrior struggled to regain his feet.  "Here, this will help." said Thorne kindly and the syringe needle protruded from the index finger of his left power armor gauntlet. He jabbed Maxim in the shoulder with a combination of stimpak and anti radiation drugs. The warrior gasped as he felt a hot wave flash through his body and then the pain and nausea receded.

  "Thank you my friend." said Maxim gratefully.

  They continued for another hour through the freezing haze when Thorne made out a small iceberg made from rock and sea-ice. At its base was an iron-bound door fixed into the stone. Maxim lit a torch and in the other hand grabbed the rusted door handle, tugging the door open with a grinding creak and a shower of ice crystals.

  The inside of the iceberg was hollowed out with a spiraling path around the walls and down to the center of the cavern. On the floor in the center was a large brassy container, slightly cuboid with a round opalescent door in the middle near its base. The opal-like glow came from three large round jewels in the middle of the door. Between the jewels appeared to be a small receptacle. A lock.

  The light from Maxim's torch reflected from the metal and jewels, throwing multiple rainbows onto the glittering walls of the cavern. The pair stood before the door and Maxim turned to Thorne.

  "Remember, do not ask the mage anything or volunteer any information. Let me do the talking."

  "Affirmative." said Thorne. Maxim gave him a curious look and then took a small vial from a pouch on his belt and then inserted it into the receptacle lock. There came a grinding sound and the three jewels began to spin and enlarge. Suddenly they spun inwards, ever expanding, forming a long tunnel into the chamber, much longer than the container should have allowed. The two warriors cautiously walked into the tunnel as it gently sloped downwards and into a huge chamber, again much too large for its exterior. In the center of the chamber stood a pedestal. On it lay a golden book, pinned to the pedestal with a long, needle-like dagger. Both the dagger and the book were semi-translucent, looking much like Maxim in his aetherial form.

  Then Thorne noticed the huge motionless figure standing at the far end of the chamber. 

  It was a head taller than him in his power armor and clad head to toe in ornate armor of the same metal as the chamber. The helmet's eyes were dark and it was crowned with a golden circlet with a dully-glowing blue jewel in its center. A similar jewel was glowing in the chest plate. The torso and limbs were covered with pipes and pistons and to the bracers were affixed sharp retractable blades. On each pauldron were mounted long cylinders with more struts and pipes affixed to them.

  It looked for all the world like power armor.

  The blue jewels in crown and chest began to pulsate and now the helmet's eyes began to glow.

  "Hail champion," came a hollow voice from within the helm, sounding like it came from a deep well. The eyes were glowing brighter now, but were swirling and shifting. "At last you come to release us."

  "Be silent!" barked Maxim. "The power of the Thu'um compels you!" Thorne suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, as if ghostly fingertips were caressing his mind, drawing out its secrets. He felt his whole life flash before his eyes in an instant and he swayed on his feet. Maxim looked sharply at the soldier and then back at the figure, eyes flashing.

  "RII VAAZ!" he shouted. The metallic figure stepped backwards to steady itself as the shout hit and Thorne was suddenly released. "Touch him again and I will seal you in this lockbox for all eternity!" The mage stood motionless. "I will speak to the other." growled Maxim. The eyes flickered for a second and then the swirling stopped, the dim light in the chamber now reflecting off pupils and clear irises within the helm's eye pieces.

  "My apologies, Dovahkin." said a lighter voice now. "It can be hard to be control at times." Maxim continued his warning stare at the mage. It took a step forward and blasts of steam jetted from vents at the back of the suit. "However, I have seen what you face in Thorne's mind. I see now why you have released me."

  *   *   *

  Maxim, Thorne and the Archmage were obliged to bypass the ruins of Winterhold due to the radioactive fallout but made up for it with tremendous speed. The dragonborn rode Arvak, who galloped tirelessly and Thorne easily matched Arvak's speed with the great power of his armor. So too did the Archmage's own armor, belching steam with each great clanking stride. He ran in silence and there were no more intrusions on Maxim's thoughts. They chose lesser traveled stony paths through the mountains towards the ruins of Saarthal and the occasional wolf pack and frost troll gave them a wide berth.

   

  The trio were just reaching the top of a hill that would look into the valley where Saarthal lay when Thorne spotted a metallic sphere speeding towards them at high speed. It had long steel spines protruding from its back half and as it came within range it released a series of high-pitched squeals. Too late, Thorne drew his laser pistol and blew it apart.

   

  "An Enclave eye-bot!" he shouted. "We are about to have company!" Within minutes a distant hum in the distance became an angry buzzing as a dark cloud of Enclave flyers came scything through the sky towards their position, their sickle-like shapes leaving twin trails of cloud behind them.

   

  "Wards!" yelled Maxim as he raised Spellbreaker. Thorne's range finder zoomed in on the nearest flyer. They were not yet in range but were approaching fast, dozens of them. He looked down at his left wrist and activated a button attached to the bracer and Fawke's shoulder mounted quad launcher swiveled about as the the targeting computer came on. The reticule fixed on to the first closest flyer then the second, the third and then the fourth and began to track them.

   

  The Archmage simply stood motionless, watching the incoming flyers.

   

  "Target in range!" yelled Thorne and he depressed the wrist button again. Four blasts of flame erupted from the back of the launcher as the rockets fired. They left trails of white smoke in the air as they homed in on their targets. The four flyers attempted to manoeuvre out of the way of the unexpected attack. Three of the rockets found their targets and three flyers plummeted out of the sky and into a nearby mountain side in bright fireballs. The fourth flyer avoided the rocket but smashed into its close neighbor and both went spinning out of control into the valley to their ruin at the bottom.

   

  The other flyers spread out and now began to rain bolts of blue and green energy down on the three. The Archmage held up both hands and a large ward surrounded them as the blasts reflected off its surface. Thorne had unslung his gauss rifle and was attempting to shoot the flyers from the sky, but the electromagnetic rounds could not pierce their shields. They were at an impasse.

   

  The flyers now formed a wedge formation, and came about to aim at the Archmage. Their fire was focused on the ward now but it held firm as energy spanged off it in every direction. As the wedge passed overhead, the Mage stretched out with his hand and took hold of the foremost flyer with telekinetic energy. The flyer suddenly stopped in mid-air and then was flung back into the rest of the wedge causing a rippling explosion that dropped several flyers to the ground.

   

  The flyers regrouped and now formed several smaller wedges that came in from every direction and the beleaguered trio on the ground were blasted from every angle.

   

  "I cannot maintain the wards forever, Dovahkin." the Archmage said calmly. "Eventually they will break through." Maxim cursed.

   

  "I don't have the strength to summon Durnehviir. If we try and run we will be blown to pieces." the dragonborn was sweating at the effort to keep Spellbreaker raised for an extended time.

   

  "It's our only option!" yelled Thorne. "If we spread out we will divide their attention between the three of us!"

   

  "Alright, its now or never. Keep the ward up a few seconds longer, Archmage." Maxim slung the shield over his shoulder whilst keeping beneath the ward. Then he turned in the direction of Saarthal.

   

  "WULD NAH KEST!" In a blur Maxim shot forward hundreds of meters. Thorne was next. Re-routing all available power into the leg servos of his power armor he sprinted after Maxim, the snow spraying in a large wake behind him. Finally the Archmage dropped his ward and gathered his power through his armor and into his hands. Several energy bolts hammered into the armor but he stood his ground as the suit began to shake and his hands glowed with barely contained power. Then he released it. A huge freezing tempest erupted around him, throwing tree-like shards of ice into the air. Several of them penetrated the shields on the flyers and impaled them, sending them spinning down to the ground. Some of the flyers were flung off course but there were enough of them to keep on their targets.

   

  The Archmage sprinted away but was caught by more blasts of energy in the back, hurling him to the ground. He jumped immediately to his feet, his back plate showing multiple burn marks. He began to run again with the bolts sizzling down all around him. 

   

  Maxim had almost made it to the edge of the Saarthal excavation when he risked a look behind. Thorne was close behind but was being knocked over by the flyer's energy weapons. But worst off was the Archmage. He was being pummeled by by the blasts and was holding up a ward with one hand and stumbling along. The ward blocked some of the incoming bolts but many were making it through and pieces of his armor were being blown off.

   

  He's not going to make it! thought Maxim desperately. The flyers were forming another great wedge to swoop down on the mage and finish him when a barrage of laser fire spattered the shields of the flyer's western flank, forcing them to veer off target. Standing on a cliff above the excavations was Fawkes, training his gatling laser on the flyers.

   

  "RUN YOU FOOLS!" he bellowed as the flyers turned to meet the new threat. Thorne and Maxim rushed to the Archmage, dragging him to his feet and down the switch-back path to the entrance of Saarthal. Serana and the two companions came running from the door and with their supernatural strength helped to haul the Dwemer suited Archmage down into the ruins.

   

  A huge crash was heard outside the main door which suddenly flew open and Fawkes came barreling through, knocking the whole group down the stairs in a great heap of flailing limbs. As the pile of bodies tried to disengage from one another Thorne pulled off his helmet, allowing a cloud of steam to escape the depressurized suit. Pushing it to its full capacity had overloaded its heat sinks and Thorne was rapidly cooking inside of it.

   

  "Is there any way out of this place?" he gasped. The Archmage slowly pulled himself to his feet, steam gouting from several severed pipes. Broken pistons and struts were jutting from the armor at different angles and the armor was peppered with burn scars. He crossed his hands across his chest and with a metallic groaning the armor began to repair itself, the metal flowing like liquid and then solidifying again, showing no sign of the previous damage. The others stepped away in apprehension.

   

  "No," he said in a calm voice. "This is the only way in and the only way out."

   

  Serana looked at the Archmage and then back at Maxim.

   

  "Is this the..?"

   

  "Yes," he replied curtly, cutting her short. "He has unique skills and abilities that will help our cause, but he is under my supervision. No one is to speak with him but me." Several eyebrows raised and glances were exchanged but all were silent.

   

  "I know you are all enjoying this awkward moment," said Thorne sourly. "But its only a matter of minutes before we are either sealed in here with a nuke or an Enclave death squad storms this place and kills us all."

   

  "If we run, it will be right into the weapons of the Enclave flyers. There are too many for us to fight and we don't have to the right weapons for it," replied Maxim.

   

  "Stealth and speed." said Serana. "We will need some kind of cover and then make for Alftand as fast as we can."

   

  "They will see through any cover we create," Thorne interjected. "Even my sensors can detect cloaked enemies." Maxim cursed.

   

  "Then we're trapped."

   

  "No." All eyes turned towards the Archmage. "Dovahkin, though the weapons of these enemies are strong, their minds are weak. Observe." The Dwemer-suited mage held up a golden gauntlet which began to glow. There was a distortion in the air and suddenly seven figures, identical to themselves appeared in the chamber, standing still and staring blankly.

   

  "Of course," smiled Serana. "We can create some cover, say a heavy fog and have the illusions flee. The flyers will give chase and we can make our escape."

   

  "We move now," said Maxim. He took a map from a belt pouch and unfolded it. "This is where we are going." Alftand. Thorne looked closely at it then put his helmet back on. Its computer began calculating.

   

  "This is hard terrain. A lot of glaciers. At our top speed it will take us three hours to reach these ruins. We will be exposed most of the time."

   

  "Then let us hope these illusions buy us some time." said Maxim. He nodded to the Archmage who pointed up the stairwell. The illusions silently followed the dragonborn to the temple door. Serana followed behind and as Maxim threw the door open she raised both hands. Out in the gloom, a thick fog began to form in the clearing which quickly rose out of the valley. The angry buzzing of the fliers grew louder. 

   

  "Go!" commanded the Archmage and the seven mirror images of the companions fled out into the mist. Within seconds the fliers swooped and began blasting their energy weapons at the illusions. It continued for several minutes and then the noise slowly faded.

   

  "Let's move!" yelled Maxim as he stepped out into the clearing and summoned Arvak. He leaped upon the skeletal steed's back and ascended the walkway out of the excavations at full-gallop. Maxim and Fawkes followed close behind, then the Archmage and then the night-prowlers, all in their beast forms.

   

  Anyone observing this strange band running across the glaciers would have done well to stay well clear of them. They represented some of the greatest powers in Skyrim, even Tamriel. 

   

  They ran tirelessly across the ice, the leaden sky darkening by the minute. After a few hours, in near pitch-black darkness they reached the precarious ruins of Alftand, half buried in the glacier. With night vision, infrared and torches they made their way down the gangplanks and into the twisted dwemer ruins. Maxim led the way.

   

  Through dark corridors littered with rubble and creeping ice, the companions crept silently, alert for dangers. The air was freezing but close and there was the constant sound of dripping water interspersed with steam hissing from ruptured pipes and the sound of heavy machines working deep underground. The Archmage stepped up to walk beside Maxim.

   

  "You may need me here, Dovahkin." he said quietly to the dragonborn.

   

  "I've been here before, mage." he replied curtly.

   

  "I know, but you avoided many of the dormant autonomatons  the last time through stealth. That will not be possible this time."

   

  "Very well," grunted Maxim. "Lead on, but stay in my sight." The Archmage nodded and took the lead, casting a large ball of light which hovered above his helm and illuminated the dark path before them.

   

  "There goes our stealth," muttered Serana.

  *   *   *

   

  The group traveled in silence, uninterrupted for some time before they heard a metallic clicking sound, like dozens of sword points being tapped on the stone.

   

  "Get behind me," said the Archmage calmly as he stepped through a door into a large chamber lined with metal pipes. The others followed him into the room and saw a swarm of dwemer spiders clattering along the floor towards them, golden pincers and mandibles working frantically. Guns, swords, talons and claws came up at the ready but the mage simply held his hand out in a stop gesture and the spiders instantly came to a standstill. Then the mage strode on, armor hissing steam. The others followed, eyeing the motionless spiders cautiously. As they passed by the autonomatons the Archmage swept his hand upwards and the spiders began to clatter on behind them, following.

   

  Further along in the bowels of the ruins, several metallic spheres came hurtling out of the darkness, transforming into semi-humanoid machines wielding hammers and swords. Again, the mage held up his hand and the spheres stopped. Then followed, rolling behind them. 

   

  Eventually, the mage accrued a small army of spiders, spheres and dwemer ballistae as they traversed the ruins to the secret stairs into Blackreach. On a few occasions several Falmer approached to confront the group, took one sniff and fled gibbering in terror. 

   

  Finally, the large group reached the hidden stairwell that Maxim had opened many months ago, down into Blackreach. Suddenly the floor began to shudder with several large concussive blasts deep underground causing cracks to form in the walls and floor and dust to rain down from the ceiling. This was followed by a rapid staccato of smaller concussions.

   

  "Gunfire!" yelled Thorne.

   

  "Into Blackreach. Now!" bellowed Maxim.

   

  *   *   *

   

  The sounds of war greeted the large group as they stepped out onto the landing that looked out over Blackreach.

   

  In the dim distance Maxim could see the lift to the surface had been breached and the ground about it was littered with dead Imperial soldiers and smoking chunks of metallic wreckage. More gunfire and explosions rippled through the cavern in the distance and Maxim could see smoke rising from the direction of the city.

   

  "Go!" the warrior yelled. The companions and their automaton followers surged down the stairs and onto the road towards the city. Thorne ran beside the Archmage as they raced towards the battle. As they crested the underground hill, Thorne's targeting system locked on to an approaching object, flying at great speed. Spherical.

   

  "Incoming!" he screamed as he unslung his gauss rifle and dropped to one knee, aiming. The spherical object had three eyes on metallic stalks and three mechanical arms, weapons at the ends of each appendage. One shot laser bolts towards the group, another sprayed flames and the third held a spinning saw. Thorne blew it apart with an EM round before it closed.

   

  "What was that?" yelled Maxim over the din.

   

  "A Mister Gutsy soldier droid." rumbled Fawkes, bringing his gatling laser to bear. Thorne held up a hand.

   

  "Prepare for assault!" From the direction of the city more soldier droids came hurtling through the air, laser bolts sizzling into the ground all around them. Maxim, the Archmage and Serana all erected wards to block the blasts and Fawkes and Thorne countered with their weapons. Many of them were shot down before closing but there were dozens of them and within seconds they were among the companions, washing them with flame and slashing at them with their saws.

   

  The Archmage held up a hand and then brought it down in a chopping motion. The automatons that were milling behind the companions suddenly raced forward and the droids were suddenly swarmed under by the spiders. The mage then pointed towards the city and the automatons went rattling and clanking towards the greater battle. The companions followed after.

   

  They rounded a bend to see the city being assailed by an army of robots. Some were the spherical soldier droids, others were humanoid with dome shaped heads, shooting lasers from their arms. But the most deadly were the squat, tank-like robots that had rocket launchers for one arm and miniguns for the other. On their spherical heads were mounted high powered lasers. They pounded the city mercilessly, sending shards of stone flying from the ramparts whilst the embattled Imperial soldiers and guards attempted to return fire with their scavenged Enclave weapons.

   

  Thorne zoomed his range finder in toward the stairs to the city's entrance. One warrior was rallying the troops to hold back the tide of metal bodies attempting to breach the city. It was Lydia. Sword in one hand and laser pistol in the other she was hacking and shooting at the nearest humanoid robots coming within range. Lasers and bullets ricocheted from the stones around her but she stood her ground. She would be overwhelmed at any minute.

   

  "Take out the securatrons, the large robots!" Thorne roared over the gunfire. "They are suppressing the Imperials!" The dwemer autonomatons had now engaged the robots with  metallic mandibles, swords and axes smashing into the steel bodies of the droids. The droids responded with lasers, saws and guns, blowing the autonomatons apart. The securatrons continued to rain missiles and gunfire down on the city defenders. Maxim, Thorne and Fawkes rushed forwards with swords and hammers and began to take them apart from behind. The night brethren pounced on the robot's backs, ripping steel plates and wiring out, sparks buzzing around them. And the Archmage stomped forwards and ripped into the droids with wrist mounted blades, slicing the steel into ribbons.

   

  Between the companion's and automaton's assault and the Imperial counter attack the robots were smashed to smoking, sparking fragments.

   

  Several minutes later, the battle was over.

   

  *   *   *