The ancient cargo lift ground inexorably down into the depths of Manufactorum Sector 11-A, just another fifty cubic kilometers of silently rusting machinery and poorly stored caustic chemicals. Well, fifty cubic kilometers of silently rusting machinery and poorly stored caustic chemicals and potentially thousands of varieties of other hazards, many of which had teeth. There was also a fire somewhere in one of the sub blocks, if Helix’s HUD was to be believed, which it generally wasn’t. 500 years ago the sensors screaming about a fire would have been outmoded but maintained, now they were just as likely to have a rodent nesting in their wiring.
Helix stood in between two other identically dressed men in the dim glow of the lift’s backup lighting. Lars, to the left, was a 4 year tunnel rat, solid and dependable; Helix had seen him take wounds that would have killed other men from sheer shock and keep on going. To Helix’s right stood Bengt, the rookie. This was his first trip down and Helix was about 68.24% sure that this would be his last trip, if the statistics held up anyways. All three were clad in near identical Cadian patterned shock trooper gear. Helix and Lars’ gear was battered if well maintained. Bengt’s armor was in deplorable shape, rookies generally were issued kit that no other Rat would take given that it would probably never come back.
It took twenty minutes for the lift to grind to a halt at their assigned sub sector, Helix didn’t care, it was better than humping it down two hundred flights of stairs in full kit then doing it again on the way up. Lars and Helix both shouldered their carbines while Bengt slapped the engraved “open” button. The door split into quarters and slid apart. Entering and leaving a sub-sector were two of the most dangerous times on a shift, in Helix’s opinion. Lots of things learned where prey was likely to come out on a regular basis and stake out a claim. Sure enough there was a desiccated husk clad in clamshell armor and a rotted pair of fatigues.
“Keep me covered,” Helix’s rough voice rasped even harsher over the helmet comms as he slung his carbine over his shoulder and unholstered his hand-flamer and snapped on the primary. He moved into the corridor slowly. A quick spurt of fire ashed all of the cobwebs and shriveled what was left of the poor Rat on the floor. The HID light on Helix’s shoulder illuminated the dark pipelines above his head and he didn’t see any venom drooling arachnids waiting to pounce.
“It’s clear, Bengt you take point,” There was a probably a good reason why new Tunnel Rats often ended up dead.
“Aye sir,” Bengt squeaked over the comm, he was probably only 17 years old or so, and was as gangly a Rat as Helix had ever seen.
“What’s it like in this sector, I heard there are thing’ll put an egg in yer stomach, an’ rip out yer chest!” Bengt seemed excited to the point of fear at the prospect.
“That’s shit right there, nothing that fancy down here, just spiders the size of a ground cars and megalopedes that’ll bite through your helmet,” Lars tapped unconsciously at the welded patch where that exact thing had happened. “Focus on the shadows and don’t wander off.”
The trio walked cautiously down the corridor, in places auto-lights flicked on for the first time in centuries, some panels flickered on and off while others remained entirely dark. Lars had been in sectors that were black as the darkest bowels of the Warp and was grateful for the light, even if it did cast a few more shadows than he would like. According to the ancient map glowing a mellow green on his helmet’s primitive HUD the team was right near a hab-complex. This should be great fun, Lars thought cynically. If anywhere was going to have ferals it would be there.
“Go left at the juncture,” Helix punctuated his words with a jab to the left, then peeked around the corner. He was catapulted back into Lars and Bengt.
“’s blood!” Bengt squeaked.
Wordlessly Helix let loose a two second burst of flaming promethium around the corner. Over the roar of the flames a faint clicking noise came from around the bend.
“Bengt, see if it’s dead,” Helix grunted.
“Bu-,” Before Bengt could respond Helix shoved him towards the now dimming flames.
Bengt let out a surprised yelp and brought his carbine up like a club, his voice grated through his helmet’s vox “Ain’t nuffin’ there, uh, sir”
“The hell are you doing with that rifle? It works better when you aim it!” Lars barked at the new recruit. “Take point again and try not to get eaten”
The corridor was narrow and encrusted with some kind of organic resin. Whatever had attacked Helix had scuttled into a corroded ventilation duct.
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