Chapter 96: Field Triage
The battle for the northern warren had reached its bloody conclusion. The Secessionists had held the line and repelled the PDF strike force, but their victory was hollow. The scent of woodsmoke and victory was choked by the copper tang of fresh blood and the stench of burnt ozone.
The rebels began the grim work of the aftermath. Some dug mass graves in the fallow fields—a monumental task given the sheer volume of the dead. For those still breathing, the agony was only beginning. Over thirty wounded were packed into the makeshift med-shacks, their screams echoing through the clearing as their bodies succumbed to trauma.
Kian hopped into the lead PDF truck and looked at Parson. "Move out. We're heading to the vent. I have the medical tithe ready."
Parson nodded, but before he took the wheel, he sprinted over to the three surviving cell leaders. They huddled in a frantic whisper, their eyes occasionally darting toward Kian. Finally, they gave a solemn nod.
To Kian's surprise, the rebels began hauling the crate of captured Lasguns and their associated power cells into the back of his truck.
"Master Voss," Parson said as he climbed into the passenger seat. "We cannot use these. The gene-locks make them nothing more than clubs in our hands. You are a man of the Spire and the Sump; perhaps your 'Machine Spirits' can tame them. Take them as a down-payment for the lives of our brothers."
Kian ignited the engine, a predatory smirk tugging at his lips. Twenty-two Las-weapons. In the PDF, these were reserved for officers and elite scions. If he could find a way to crack the biometric seals, he wouldn't just have a syndicate; he'd have a strike team capable of taking on Enforcer squads.
"You're making a wise investment, Parson," Kian said, steering the heavy truck through the crushed trees. "I'll remember the gesture."
They reached the Great Ventilator. Kian left Parson to guard the truck and the "Sun-guns," then stepped onto the hardened floor for extraction.
[Extraction Successful: Legendary Haul]
Back in the Sanctum, Kian moved with industrial haste. He grabbed a heavy-duty tactical pack and went straight to his medical stockpile. He cleared his shelves of refined powders, stimms, and kits. He paused at his injector case, then pulled out ten Regen-Bolts.
A steep price, he thought, but twenty-two Lasguns are worth a few drops of liquid miracle.
He cycled the Sanctum door and stepped out into the brewery. The crew looked at him in bewilderment. He had vanished behind a pillar ten minutes ago and was now emerging from his private vault with a bulging medical pack.
Kian ignored the stares and surveyed the progress. The expansion was moving fast. With the credits from the last amasec haul, Shiv had hired a permanent crew of masons. They were pouring Plastocrete and reinforcing the conduit with high-tensile steel ribs.
The "Voss Safe-Sector" now stretched for three hundred meters. Shiv had separated the space into modular hab-blocks, a mess hall, and a sanitation wing. The brewery had become a small town in the dark.
Kian walked to the forward bulkhead where Shiv was overseeing the new wall.
"I want tactical adjustments," Kian commanded. "Bore two horizontal firing slits at waist-height on either side of the gate. And at the top, I want a square port, 40 by 40 centimeters."
"For an Auspex, Boss?" Shiv asked.
"For a high-lumen searchlight," Kian corrected. "I've seen the PDF units. If anyone tries to storm this pipe, I want them blinded before the first shot is fired. Anyone who can't see can't aim. And if they keep coming? They meet the Lumberers."
He ordered Shiv to prep the cargo-trolley and summoned Big Joel and Kael. They traveled to the surface, reached the PDF truck, and began the transfer.
The crew was struck dumb by the sight of the hardware. They watched as Kian heaved the 20mm Heavy Stubbers onto the trolley.
"By the God-Emperor," Big Joel whispered, touching the cold barrel of the autocannon. "Where did you get these, Lord? This is regimental-grade ordinance."
"I took them from a man who didn't deserve them," Kian said. "Now move. We've got lives to save and an army to build."
Kian and Parson roared back into the rebel camp an hour later. The sound of the engine was immediately met by a crowd of desperate fighters.
"The medicine! Did the Scavenger bring the Mercy?!"
Kian didn't wait. He sprinted into the primary med-shack and dumped his pack onto the floor. The rebels stared at the colorful vials and strange injectors, paralyzed by the sight of tech they didn't understand.
"Stop staring and start dosing!" Kian roared.
He grabbed a bottle of Pain-Suppressants and began handing them out. "One pill for every man screaming! If they can't feel the pain, they won't fight the treatment!"
The screams began to subside into a drug-induced lull. Kian opened a Master-pattern Med-kit, pulling out haemostatic powder and high-tensile bandages. He moved like a whirlwind, performing the "Sump-Surgery" he'd practiced on himself.
He reached a rebel lying in the corner. The man's chest was a ruin of shrapnel wounds, his breathing a wet, rattling gasp. He was drowning in his own blood.
Kian reached for a Regen-Bolt, ready to trigger the Void-Blood Pump.
A hand clamped onto Kian's wrist. It was one of the cell leaders.
"Save the needle, Scavenger," the leader whispered, his eyes hollow. "This one's soul already belongs to the Throne. Move to the next. Waste not the Emperor's gifts on a ghost."
☆☆☆
-> 20 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Inkshaper
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you