Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 21
The Traitor stood aghast, frozen by the sight of Sedaxus emerging from the flames. He had thought to escape but his flight had been cut short, leaving him speechless. Sedaxus was hardly less stunned, he'd seen the Sorcerer fleeing, the unexpected presence of a Psyker shattering the Raven's trap, but he'd not got a good look at him until now. The sight of lightning etched plate and grizzly staff were hardly out of character but the flayed skull was extreme, even by Night Lord standards. His face was an expressionless mask, stapled to the bone. The Heresy war had exposed Sedaxus to twisted and hideous deformities among Traitor Legions but this was unsettling. Still, that wouldn't stop Sedaxus killing him.
Suddenly the Sorcerer leapt into action, raising a bolt pistol to blast away. In close confines a bolt round could be as deadly as a plasma bolt and Sedaxus hurled himself aside, sensing rounds whistling millimetres from his flank. In return his plasma pistol disgorged a shining bolt at his foe's hearts. The Sorcerer threw himself aside to avoid being incinerated. Sedaxus expected him to recover and fire again but to his surprise the Chaos Marine didn't redress, instead doubling down on his evasion, smashing bodily into the wall. Frail Ork construction met Ceramite and tore like tissue paper, bursting apart as the Sorcerer broke into the building.
"That's my trick!" Sedaxus spat as he turned to pursue. He didn't follow through the hole, knowing it was death, instead gathering himself to fling his bulk at an unbroken section of wall. The flimsy barrier proved no obstacle, letting him into the dark space. The building turned out to be some form of Factorum, filled with grinding machinery and half-built vehicles, bright sparks and metallic fumes. Greenskins had downed tools and fled, leaving tracks hanging off Battlewagons and swinging chains of ammunition dangling from rickety gantries. Sedaxus took it all in at a glance but more important was the Sorcerer, preparing an ambush at the first hole, meaning Sedaxus emerged right behind him.
At the noise the Sorcerer spun about and brought up his pistol but Sedaxus' claws flashed upwards and the gun came apart, neatly sliced into three sections. He drew back for another slash but the Traitor jumped away, grasping his staff laterally and holding it across his chest. There was something wrong with his eyes, a sucking maw of darkness but Sedaxus wasn't looking for he instantly hurled himself forwards, leading with his claws.
A series of lightning-quick attacks he made, crackling claws whipping about to rend and tear, yet the Sorcerer matched him for speed and spun his staff about, blocking at every turn. Sedaxus redoubled his efforts, striking twice as fast and from unexpected angles but the Traitor matched his every move. Claws whipped by dark plate but failed to make contact, not once marring that perfect sheen. Sedaxus grimaced in frustration and heaved forward, trying to throw his opponent off-balance, but the filth made the exact same move and they slammed together, grappling for advantage. Sedaxus' claws were locked tight against the haft of the staff, searing its surface black but failing to break through. He bent all his strength towards bringing his weapons to bear but the Sorcerer held him at bay, evenly matched in strength as well as speed.
"You fight for the throne, but is that Vongareth's style I detect?" he hissed, "You studied under the Twilight Talon, didn't you?"
"Shut your crap-eating mouth, Traitor filth!" Sedaxus grunted.
"Typical Nostramean bravado," the cur sneered, "But I also studied with Vongareth, I know all your moves."
"Bet you don't know this one!" Sedaxus roared as he retracted his claws back over his wrist. Their stalemate broke and the Sorcerer stumbled, overbalancing and left exposed. Sedaxus spun to follow, snapping his energised claws back into place to rip out the spine, but in the second it took his weapons to ignite the Sorcerer threw his boot out, catching Sedaxus in the hip and forcing him to stumble away.
He regrouped instantly and came back with a diagonal slice but the staff rose laterally and blocked, then twisted to bring the end upwards and smash him in the helm. Sedaxus lurched to one side and found the pointed end driving for his hearts, sharp enough to penetrate Ceramite and tear his hearts out. His hand flashed up and gripped the length of metal a fraction of an inch from his plate but the Sorcerer pressed harder, forcing him to backpedal to avoid being run through.
Sedaxus sensed a looming mass rear behind him, some Ork machine blocking his retreat. If he hit it the staff's point would not stop, driving straight through him and out the other side. Sedaxus faced death in that moment, knowing this cur would take great pleasure in ending him. He had no angle to dodge, no way to break out, yet he refused to die like this. He had not fought through the fires of Heresy and broken with his own bloodline to die impaled on this scum's weapon. Burning defiance caused him to lift his pistol and fire off to one side, sending a burning bolt to slam into a wagon piled high with junk.
Suddenly a rainstorm of broken machinery and junked parts fell upon them, metal slamming into the pair like hail. Sedaxus felt impacts ringing off his helm, making him see stars but vitally the pressure of the staff driving for his hearts vanished. Both warriors were forced to break off and evade, to avoid being buried in debris, ducking away and darting for safety lest they be pinned.
Sedaxus stumbled into clear space and spun about, expecting a fresh attack, but the Traitor had vanished. Sedaxus knew the cur hadn't fled the building, he could feel those cold eyes crawling over his back, but the foe had disappeared into the tangled mess of exposed metal and hanging engines, lurking in the shadows. Sedaxus wasn't about to give up the chase and ducked into the lee of an engine block as big as he was, drawing on his experience with the Ravens to make himself invisible. His eyes scoured the factorum, seeking his prey but there was no trace of where the Traitor lurked.
Silently Sedaxus slipped sideways, senses straining for the slightest hint of motion, but was surprised when a mocking voice echoed, "You fight well, killer in black."
Sedaxus' eyes darted about but could not pinpoint the noise, too many angles create jarring echoes that even he could not discern. With nothing to lose he called back, "Good enough to kill you."
"Tell me," the voice uttered, "What is your name?"
"Death," Sedaxus spat as he ducked under a warbuggy set upon a rack.
"Come now, Nostramo maybe dead but our traditions live on, one should always know the name of one's killer. I'll tell you my name first, I am Xavaar, the Skinned Man."
Sedaxus vaguely recognised the name but sneered, "Skinned Man, bit on the nose, isn't it? Oh, I'm sorry, you don't have a nose, do you? If you must know, I am Sedaxus, the Smoke Jaguar."
"Sedaxus," mocked the echoes, "You must have quite a tale to tell, a Night Lord fighting for Ravens, but tell me, do you believe in prophecy?"
"I believe you'll only shut up when I finally gut you," Sedaxus snarled as he darted into the shadow of a bubbling cauldron of molten iron.
"So uncouth," Xavaar laughed, "But do answer me this, do you believe the future can change, or does our gene-father speak truly when he proclaims the future is immutable?"
"Curze doesn't speak anything anymore, not without a head," Sedaxus growled.
Silence suddenly fell, leaving the factorum empty. Sedaxus paused then as he sensed shock and disbelief in the air and he grinned to himself as he uttered, "You didn't know, did you not hear the news that Konrad Curze is dead?"
"You lie!" a harsh bark issued from the right.
Sedaxus grin widened as he inched in that direction, holding his pistol ready as he called, "I speak only truth and you know it. Night Haunter is dead, an Imperial Assassin took his head off its shoulders. Our Legion is broken, scattered to the nine vectors. You are alone."
"No!" growled a heavy voice from just behind a chugging generator, "It can't be, this is impossible!"
Eagerly Sedaxus pounced, darting around the corner and bringing his pistol to bear. The Sorcerer stood before him, looking the other way and exposed for a death blow. Sedaxus squeezed the trigger and watched a shining bolt fly away, crackling with ionisation as it torched oxygen molecules. It moved so slowly in his sight, drawing upon the foe's flank with glacial sloth. He watched as it closed the distance, he watched as it struck home and he watched as it pass through the enemy without touching anything, moving through the image with no more trouble than a hand through smoke.
The illusion wavered then shattered, dissolving into nothingness. Meanwhile his plasma pistol wailed in distress, charging coils overheating from excessive use, one more squeeze of the trigger would see it explode in his hand. Too late Sedaxus realised he'd been tricked, wasting his last shot via the most basic of traps. He spun about, expecting a knife in the back, only to find himself staring straight into the coldest and most pitiless eyes he'd ever seen.
Infinite depths of chill horror swept over him, draining his vitality in an instant. The hopelessness of existence was made known, utter nihilism unmanning his spirit. The universe was vast and timeless, making living beings insignificant in all measures. He lived in one small galaxy, in a cluster barely old enough to be noted in cosmic eyes, in a vast swirl of trillions of galaxies that themselves barely filled one tiny corner of creation. Humans were microscopic plankton in an endless ocean of midnight black. Even the universe itself was without hope, a finite span doomed to end in the atomic stillness of heat death. Nothing had any meaning, there was no point to anything and the harsh revelation of his own insignificance in the scope of the universe sent him crashing to the floor, unable to move or speak.
Blackness arose and he strayed into dark dreams, only to be awoken by a rough hand shaking his shoulder. He blearily blinked under his helm and looked up to see Damolos looming overhead, shouting, "Wake up! Wake up damn it, we have got to go!"
"Whaaaa," Sedaxus groaned as he waved his arm drunkenly.
"He hit you with the same thing he hit me with, but it wears off quick," Damolos explained, "Get on your feet, we can't stay!"
Sedaxus' memories ran like water as the revelation faded into a bad dream. He forced his head up and saw the Factorum lit by firelight, flickering reds leaking through gaps in the walls. Woozily he forced his feet under him and clung to Damolos as he lurched upright. He swayed for a moment then shoved the Raven away, ashamed to need help to stand.
"Where'd the Sorcerer go?" he spat.
"Probably to grab a Stormbird," Damolos spat as he set off at a jog, "They swept in and unloaded missiles everywhere, before grabbing the Traitors from the inferno they made."
"But he should have killed me," Sedaxus spat as he wobbled after, "Why didn't he kill me?"
"You can ask him next time," Damolos barked as he made for the door, "For now concentrate on running!"
His strength came back as they darted into the firelight, finding the Ork camp in flames. Everywhere towering infernos roared, casting brilliant light into the sky as choking fumes poured out of burning buildings. Structures were imploding left and right, falling into themselves and explosions rang loud. In the distance a Stompa was lit up like a mannikin on a bonfire, a burning effigy that slowly toppled over and disappeared into a sea of fire. Sedaxus couldn't see anyone else but ducked as large shapes shot overhead, mere smudges in the ashen sky but ringing with the unmistakable noise of multiple Stormbird engines pushed to their limits.
Damolos turned and ran down the dirty alley, returning to the square where they had first engaged. Sedaxus noted a couple of midnight-clad bodies laid out in the street, bolter craters oozing blood, but alongside them were three scout-novices and a Raven Guard, they had not gone down easy. Sedaxus put them from his mind as they dashed into the square, where Nolaro was shouting through the vox, "They're getting away call in our gunships so we can pursue!"
Damolos skidded to a halt and yelled, "I found Sedaxus, told you he wouldn't be dead!"
Nolaro barely glanced at them as he spat, "I'm calling in the Shadowhawks, so we can run those traitors to ground."
"Flimsy Shadowhawks against genuine Stormbirds?!" Sedaxus snorted, "There's only one way that ends, with us dying."
"Who's side are you on?!" Nolaro hissed, "We can't let them get away!"
"Wake up!" Sedaxus shouted, "We had our shot and we missed. Now we have to get out of here before we all die."
"Coward, I should have killed you and left your body in the dust of Istvaan!"
"Blame me all you want, but it won't change the fact that you know you screwed up! We blundered in half-cocked and got our arses handed to us. You can throw away the rest of our lives on a lost battle, or withdraw while you can. Make a damned choice!"
Damolos stepped in to say, "Remember the Axioms of Corax: attack, withdraw, attack again."
Nolaro glared at them angrily then spat, "Damn you all. Very well: all squads withdraw at once, make for the Shadowhawks and regroup onboard Implacable Judgement."
"Good choice," Sedaxus called as the rest turned and began to run for the perimeter.
"Just for once be quiet," Nolaro growled vehemently.
Engar ran past, sniper rifle swaying madly as he called, "Better double-time it, the Orks are coming back. Looks like they found their courage when the base went up in flames."
"You heard him!" Damolos shouted at the running Raven Guard, "Anyone who doesn't fancy dying in this inglorious cesspit better pick up their damned feet!"
With that the loyalists fled, the bitter sting of defeat gnawing at their souls. They had failed to stop the Traitors escaping, failed to close the trap properly. That another battle would come was undoubted, but all knew it was a fight they never should have been needed. Sedaxus for his part knew this war was far from over, but deep down all he could wonder was why the Sorcerer had left him alive at all.