Mechanicum

The ashen deserts were desolate and uninhabitable, a landscape of tortured grandeur rendered barren and toxic by rapacious over-mining and unthinking plundering of the resources buried beneath the Martian soil. Pollutants blown in from the equatorial refinery belt carpeted the barren, scarred rock, making it a treacherous landscape of sand-covered crevasses and sinkholes.

Nothing lived in the pallidus, yet Maven found himself unaccountably drawn to grip the controls of his mount and ride south into the wasteland. His power cells were fully charged and he had more than enough reserves of nutrients and water to last him for weeks if need be.

His hands twitched at the controls and he felt the heart of his mount respond to his desire. It goaded him with warlike whispers and an insistent pressure at the back of his mind. His lip curled into a snarl as he thought of hunting the monstrous, dead thing that had almost killed him.

It was out there, and Equitos Bellum knew it. He could feel the certainty of that fact in every molecule of his being. The ghost image had been a reminder of his duty to his mount.

'There's nothing here,' said Cronus, breaking into his thoughts. 'Auspex track is clean.'

'I know,' said Maven, with calm, cold certainty. 'There's nothing nearby.'

'Then why have we stopped?'

'Because Equitos Bellum is telling me where I need to go—'

'Go?' asked Cronus. 'What are you talking about? The only place we need to go is across the Median Bridge and back to the chapter house.'

'No,' insisted Maven. 'It's out there. The thing that tried to kill us. It's in the south, I know it.'

'How can you know it?' demanded Cronus. 'There's nothing on the auspex. You said so yourself.'

'I know that, Leo, but I saw what I saw. Equitos Bellum can feel it and I trust its instincts.'

'And what? You're going to go after it on your own?'

'If I have to,' said Maven.

'Don't be foolish,' warned Cronus. 'Caturix will have your spurs if you do this.'

'He can have them,' said Maven, powering up and raising the Knight to its full height once more. 'I need to do this. Equitos Bellum needs this if it's ever going to be whole again.'

'You're willing to risk your spurs by going off-mission on what, a hunch?'

'It's more than that, Leo,' said Maven. 'I know it's out there and I'm going after it whether you like it or not.'

Once again, Maven heard Cronus sigh, and though he hated to abandon his friend he knew he had no choice. Equitos Bellum would give him no peace until they had been avenged.

'Very well,' said Cronus. 'Where is it? Give me a heading.'

'Leo? You're coming with me?' asked Maven.

'This thing, whatever it is, already got the better of you once before,' said Cronus. 'So, logically, you're going to need my help if you're going to take it on again.'

'You're a true friend,' said Maven, so very proud of his brother.

'Shut up and let's go before I see sense and change my mind.'

Maven smiled. 'Follow me,' he said, turning his mount and riding into the pallidus.

The hunt was on and Equitos Bellum surged with wounded pride.

Maven welcomed it.

Dalia awoke with a scream, her hand clutching her chest, hyperventilating as the fragments of the darkness within her skull threatened to spill out and consume her. Serpentine shapes lurked in the shadows, and Dalia hugged the sheets close to her body as she heard the hiss of a draconic breath drawn at the beginning of the universe and saw the gleam of teeth in ever-widening jaws.

A voice in the darkness spoke her name.

Even with her eyes shut, she could see him, the hooded man with the wild eyes and the mark of the dragon burning beneath his skin. Its silver fire was a web of light within his flesh.

She forced her eyes open as the light levels in the hab grew from nightlight to full illumination. Beside her, Caxton stirred, half asleep as he fumbled with the lumen controls.

'What… what's the matter?' he asked groggily.

Dalia's eyes flickered to the corners of the hab, where of course there were no serpentine predators lurking in the shadows to devour her and no hooded man with glittering mercury for blood. She saw a gunmetal grey footlocker overflowing with clothing, the small table strewn with machine parts, and oil-stained walls hung with thin sheets of paper covered in scrawled diagrams. A dripping tap echoed in the ablutions cubicle and an uneaten meal lay in its foil wrapper next to an empty water bottle.

She focused on those simple, domestic items, their familiarity an anchor to the real world and not the realm of dreams and nightmares, the world of dragons and hooded men.

'Are you allright?' asked Caxton, sitting up in bed and putting his arm around her. The haptic implants in his fingertips were cold against her bare skin and she shivered. He mistook it for fear and pulled her close. 'I'm here, Dalia. There's nothing to worry about. You just had a nightmare.'