Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 47
Sedaxus hit the deck with a cry of pain. He felt like a Baneblade had driven over him, every part of his innards aching in protest. He couldn't see a thing, for his autosenses were a frizzling mess of hash, the Machine Spirit so baldy damaged as to render it blind. His internal organs were barely any better, each and every bone in his body throbbing bitterly as the hot flush of Transhuman implants went to work.
With arms like water he reached up and yanked his helm free, revealing the snarling thunder of battle. His ears were battered by the barking of bolters and fierce cries, matched by an animalistic howl of aggression that threatened to drown out all else. He gritted his teeth and rolled over, forcing eyes to focus as bright sparks made him ache. What he beheld was carnage, a swirling mass of Astartes hacking and shooting at a single target in their midst. They dove and weaved, dancing in close to stab and shoot then darting back out of range with all their speed. Many of them weren't real, images conjured by Xavaar to confuse and distract, allowing others to close unmolested and strike hard. It was a dazzling display of skill but mattered nothing, for Hed'breka Irongutz was a primal force of nature.
In the middle of the fray the gigantic Ork warboss fought like a madman, roaring in fury as he laid into his attackers. He was alone, one being against a score of Space Marines, yet he was not outmatched. His feet shook the deck with every tread and his roar made the ears spike with pain, so loud did he bellow. His left arm was wrapped in tongues of fire as he let loose a torrent of burning rounds and his right thundered as he lashed out with the drill head, trying to mince his foes. One deliverance-born was a hair too slow in withdrawing, caught in the blurring heads and snatched from his feet. A screaming whine of metal tearing Ceramite filled the air, then the warrior exploded into a shower of gore, spraying blood everywhere.
A decapitated helm, head still inside spun on the deck before Sedaxus and the sight goaded him into action. He forced his protesting muscles to move, driving to his feet then throwing himself at Hed'breka. The warboss was busy pouring bullets into the dying forms of two sons of Nostramo and didn't see him coming. Sedaxus lashed low with his claws, tearing across the back of a knee, trying to sever hamstrings, but his points merely gouged deep grooves into thick metal, leaving the warboss unharmed.
Hed'breka ignored the pinprick as he drove his drill into one of Gorth's squad, punching the spinning head through the hearts and pulling back to reveal a chest that was more hole than anything else. Sedaxus snarled in fury and drove his right hand into the spine of the warboss, trusting Transonic claws to carry the day. The tiny tips vibrated wildly as they sought the perfect frequency but the plate was not perfect. Crudely welded, poorly forged and riddled with impurities, but so very, very thick, the armour confounded arcane science, its inconsistent density a better defence than any other. Sedaxus' hand barely made an impression and he was left standing helplessly as the warboss shot the head off another Deliverance-born.
Suddenly that great drill head swung about and Sedaxus was forced to duck low, only to find a boot rising to catch him in the chest. The force sent him flying as Hed'breka cried, "Hold on ladz, can't all die at once!"
Sedaxus slammed into a wall, only to find Damolos stumbling back. He'd lost his helm somewhere too and one eye was gummed shut with blood dripping from a cut to his forehead yet he gasped, "This could be going better!"
"Time to get creative," Sedaxus spat, "Hey, you! You there, fugly! You fight like a pissing grot!"
The Warboss turned about mid-fight and roared, "Nobody calls Hed'breka a grot!"
"Tell that to Damolos here, he called you a girly Eldar."
"I did what?!" Damolos started, "Why are you bringing me into this?!"
"Hed'breka no snivelling knife-ear" the Ork roared, "Hed'breka dead 'ard!"
With that the Warboss put his head down and charged, rampaging across the deck like an oncoming freight train. Sedaxus stood his ground as the warboss closed, feeling the bridge shudder under that mighty tread. Closer and closer the warboss came, about to squish them to paste, but at the last instant the pair flung themselves aside. Hed'breka missed by a hairsbreadth and smashed his exposed head right into the wall, impacting with all the inertia his mass had gathered. The wall deformed under the blow, caving inwards as Ork skull smashed it to bits and broke nearby girders and hanging lights free.
Sedaxus saw a moment to strike as the Warboss struggled to back up, but then something large and dark fell upon him. In a tangle of broken girders Engar plummeted, thrown from his concealed perch by the impact. Sedaxus hadn't known where he had been hiding but such mischance spoiling his opening as the pair of them went down in a pile of debris.
"My rifle!" Engar gasped as he held up a twisted length of contorted metal.
"Never mind that, get off me!" Sedaxus howled as he struggled to stand.
"Too late," came a gruff snarl as Hed'breka pulled his head free.
Sedaxus gasped as the Ork loomed over them, drill blurring as it sped up but then Damolos charged in from the side crying, "Try me first!" His axe was held high and it shone with sonic power, Giant's Roar earning its name as it made the air sing. Hed'breka was not impressed, he didn't bother to look about as he swung wide, catching Damolos with a glancing blow. His shield was torn from his arm and the drill tore across his midriff, chewing Ceramite to bits as it did the flesh below. Everything from his sternum to his groin was ripped apart, leaving him to collapse to his knees as his guts were opened to the air.
"Damolos!" Sedaxus cried as he surged to his feet. He launched himself at Hed'breka's throat, claws leading the way. He nearly made contact but then a backhanded blow from the red-hot shoota caught him midleap, bashing him from the air. More ribs broke as Sedaxus hit the ground, but that was nothing compared to Hed'breka's boot slamming into his left leg, snapping the thigh in five places.
"Gargh!" the cry escaped his lips without volition. A moment later the boot struck again, shattering his other leg, leaving him helpless upon the ground before the warboss.
Hed'breka loomed over him and snarled, "Weak, slow and stoopid. You mayha killed Bloody Red-hands, but you no match fa me!"
"If you're going to kill me, stop yakking and do it already!" Sedaxus spat as he glared up defiantly.
"I likes ya style," Hed'breka snorted, "I putz ya 'ead on me bosspole, so ya can see me kill all ur mates one by one."
"Try finishing your kills properly then!" came a bold cry from behind the warboss. Sedaxus' head came about like a flash as he beheld a wonder, Damolos, flying high in an almighty leap at the Ork. It shouldn't be possible, he should be rolling about in agony, not standing, let alone leaping into the fray, yet he did so anyway. His left arm was stuffed into his guts, holding innards inside but his right was swinging downwards, bringing Giant's Roar like a divine lightning bolt sent to punish the wicked.
Hed'breka snarled as he swung about and his drill came up, but too slow. Damolos' arm struck first, sure and true, bringing the edge of his axe down upon the warboss' skull with a crack of thunder. Skin and bone parted, where metal had not, the Transonic blade ploughing through a skull that had bent metal walls on impact. Skin parted, bone broke and brains were pulped to mush as Damolos' strike bore down, slicing all the way through the jaw and beyond. He lost his grip as he bounced off the front of the Warboss, leaving the axe buried in the gory ruin of the head, all the way down to the jugular notch.
Everybody froze at the sight, the Warboss's undoing displayed for all to see, like a vandalised statue in a silent square at midnight. Hed'breka stood for a moment then slowly toppled over, his corpse hitting the floor with a resonant clang that bounced off the walls like pealing bells. He lay there, blood gushing from the stump of his neck, with Giant's Roar haft sticking straight up from the body.
Silence at last fell over the bridge and all was still, but Sedaxus had no time to consider the implications, his eyes fixed only on Damolos' fallen form. Though his leg bones were vicious splinters and his ribs were free-floating shards he dragged himself over, pulling along the floor hand over hand to reach his friend.
Damolos lay curled up on his side, blood pooling around his form, flowing far too fast and long for a Space Marine's genhanced physiology. Sedaxus reached over and grabbed Damolos' pauldron, heaving him over to lie upon his back. Revealed to the room the wound to his gut was exposed in all its horrific glory. Entrails were falling out, intestines ruptured and tied around each other. Wet glistening things wobbled feebly in the mass, broken implants oozed slowly and the awful smell of a sliced bowel told toxic faeces were leaking into Damolos' insides. Space Marines could recover from almost anything, but not this, the damage was too extensive and widespread even if they had an Apothecary nearby, which they didn't. Damolos' life was nearly over, anyone with eyes could tell that, but Sedaxus refused to admit it.
"Damolos," Sedaxus urged shaking him, "Speak to me!"
"Sedax..." Damolos breathed through lips as white as parchment.
"Damolos, stay with me!" Sedaxus pressed desperately as he clutched at his friend's arm.
"He was..." Damolos gargled.
"Don't die here, not like this," Sedaxus pleaded, "Don't leave us, not now."
"Strong..." Damolos sighed as his hand wrapped around the Smoke Jaguar's wrist, "So strong..."
"Focus on me, just stay with my voice," Sedaxus begged, gulping back the wet sob of tears.
"He was... strong..." Damolos wheezed, "But I... had an axe..."
"Did you?!" Sedaxus gasped in rank disbelief, "Did you... ha... just make a joke?!" There was no answer coming and there never would be. Damolos' head fell back and his hand went limp as the final breath wheezed out. Sedaxus knew he was gone, yet did not let go of the arm, he lowered his head and pressed his skull into Damolos' shoulder, letting the grief well up within him. Never before in his life had he wept over the passing of another, not the few friends he had, not strangers and certainly not enemies, but just this once he let tears roll off the end of his nose without shame. Silently he mourned Damolos' passing, knowing he would never again see the laughing brave wade into the fray.
Soft treads crept up behind him and he knew Engar was here. The sly warrior knelt and slowly closed Damolos' staring eyes without comment. Sedaxus wanted only to lay and grieve but duty called and he shook his head to clear his eyes. Engar looked as battered and bruised as any of them but offered his hand to help Sedaxus up. Sedaxus gripped the arm, pride be damned, and was hoisted to his feet, swaying on his shattered legs as Engar held him upright. He looked about and counted the dead, and they were many, Deliverance-born and sons of Nostramo, laying together in tangled heaps, united in death as they had been in battle. Of survivors they were few, Juru had only two Brothers left of his claw, Cantus' four and of Gorth's only Meske remained. Casualties this day were grievous indeed.
Xavaar limped over, his gait unsteady and sighed, "Damolos died in glory, this victory will long be remembered."
"Doesn't feel so glorious right now," Sedaxus spat.
"Generations to come will sing of Damolos the Bold," Juru affirmed, "His name will resound forevermore."
Sedaxus bit off a snide retort and said, "We still have the matter of an Ork Waaagh circling this ship. Engar, can you rig the communication systems to broadcast the Warboss' death?"
"Allow me," Xavaar said, stepping past to place one hand on Hed'breka's corpse.
Eldritch power glimmered around the head of his staff as his breathing became shallow and measured. Sedaxus didn't know what he was doing but he could guess the result. Images of Hed'breka's cooling body would be appearing on every frigate, Rok, shuttle and barge the Orks owned. Even now word would be spreading that the one who had united them was dead, defeated in battle and so leaving them leaderless, which knowing Greenskins would provoke only one response.
"Get an Oculus open!" Sedaxus barked.
"Got it!" Cantus replied hammering an intact console.
Across the bridge a circular aperture wheezed open, revealing the tainted heaven beyond. In those depths silhouettes floated, black against the red velvet beyond. Ork craft, in numbers beyond counting. They hung in space, seemingly content to circle, until they weren't. The first to fire was a bulbous frigate with a bull's head on its flank, targeting a barge with a grinning moon on its prow to blast it with a thunderous volley of heavy shells. The attack was inevitable as it was brutal, the instinctive racial battles for dominance taking hold as soon as a power vacuum was perceived. Any thought of unity was instantly forgotten as the Orks resumed their eternal fight for supremacy, ignoring anything else as they contested who was the strongest.
As if a starting bell had been sounded every craft in the void opened fire, letting rip with shell, rokket, zapp gun and mass drivers. Tiny fighta-bomberz spilled from hangers, blowing up rival planes from other tribes, sometimes crashing into them, so thickly contested was space. Frigates battered each other, assault-barges tussled as grappling harpoons bound them together, allowing boarding bridges to extend back and forth, while Roks smashed through the fray without care for who they killed. Explosions filled the void, leaving the Space Marines to watch the Waaagh tear itself apart, forgotten in this self-inflicted slaughter.
Sedaxus watched in awe as their enemies killed themselves and he breathed, "It worked, we did it."
"Damolos did it," Engar asserted firmly.
"You're right," Sedaxus agreed, "If there is an afterlife then I trust Damolos is laughing loud right now. May his laughter echo in eternity."