Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 26

Sedaxus thought the drink tasted of engine grease and paint thinner, with the added caveat that it had been fermented under a radiator. The odour was vinegary and colour weak as piss, but that didn't stop him slugging it back. The caustic brew hit the back of his throat with an acid burn, scouring the tissues of his throat all the way down to his stomach, where it sat like a brick. If anything the aftertaste was worse, sitting on the tongue like a wet dishcloth, dank and cloying.

"I wouldn't have thought it possible, but it tastes worse the second time," Sedaxus grimaced.

"More?" asked Damolos offering a bottle.

"Go on," Sedaxus grunted as he offered a dirty glass.

The pair of them sat back in a pair of reinforced chairs, sharing the vile bottle between them. They were back on the Implacable Judgement, lurking under the cover of Reflex Shields as their force regrouped. This was Sedaxus' private quarters, a badly-lit hole deep in the ship's bowels, somewhere near the recycling bilges, as evidenced by the dripping pipes covering the roof. The chamber had the usual workbench, armour stand, desk and cot typical to all Astartes' billets but also a few personal touches. There was a pile of human bones in one corner, decorations Sedaxus had tried and rejected to adorn his plate. A line of notches gouged into the wall, counting the number of Traitor Marines he'd slain and a book cabinet piled high with tatty tomes, of the sort pumped out by any street hawker for a credit. The most notable feature was a full-sized pict-print of Konrad Curze, taken by a remembrancer when such things were still extant, hung upon the wall with several throwing knives embedded into it so deeply they penetrated the metal behind. One of them had hit his printed face, right in the forehead, Sedaxus was particularly proud of that cast.

Sedaxus rocked back and slugged down another glass then gagged, "Blergh! Where do you get this swill?"

"Brew it myself," Damolos chortled, "Proper prison rotgut, made to an ancient formula I picked up on Deliverance."

"Tastes like it's brewed under a radiator."

"Have you been peeking into my recipes books?" Damolos laughed.

Sedaxus rolled his eyes as he poured another measure and slugged it back sighing, "Sometimes I wish we could get drunk properly."

Damolos wasn't listening, looking about the place and remarking, "All these years and I've never been in your quarters. Bit dark isn't it?"

"Nostramo eyes don't do so well in light, even Transhuman augmentation never corrected that."

Damolos picked up a worn book off the desk and flicked the pages with a Ceramite digit as he sniffed, "What's this then?"

Sedaxus sighed, "A little trifle I found in the Librariums, never seen the like before. The archivist claimed it was a reprint of a priceless relic from Old Earth, by the Dramatuge Agata Crishie, M2."

"Phew, that's old," Damolos whistled, "What it's about?"

"Somebody commits a murder and then a little man with a moustache tries to figure out who did it."

Damolos lifted an eyebrow and remarked, "And that's how you pass your free time?"

"I like its novelty," Sedaxus sniffed, "On Nostramo there was crime and there was punishment, but the idea the two should be related was a shocking concept to me."

"I thought the Night Lords were all about justice, in a twisted insane way."

"On Nostramo the assumption was everybody was guilty of something or other. Justice was a joke."

Damolos' face grew cold as he sighed, "Nolaro once believed in justice, but when he saw the Night Lords in the field all he could think of was vengeance."

Sedaxus grimaced in agreement, "It certainly was a clusterfrak. We could have pinned the Traitors in place and cut them apart at range, instead he goes off and charges in without a care."

"If only we'd brought a Librarian with us," Damolos muttered, "That Sorcerer was a nasty surprise."

"If wishes were credits I'd be the Paternova of all Navigators," Sedaxus snorted, "But the part that worries me is what happens next time we engage."

Damolos groaned, "Nolaro isn't going to let up, as soon as we find the Traitors he'll throw everything we've got at them."

Suddenly the vox squawked with Nolaro's voice, "Damolos, Sedaxus, Engar: report to strategium immediately!" The pair reacted instantly, jumping from their seats and heading for the door. Sedaxus paused only to jamb his helm on then dashed into the brightly lit corridor. The pair made their way swiftly up the ship's corridors, sprinting past serfs tending the systems and Servitors lugging supplies. They trod the familiar route with utmost alacrity, then burst into the Strategium to find Nolaro and Engar standing at the central Hololith.

Their commander was frowning at the image, one Sedaxus recognised, the supposedly abandoned starfort. Nolaro waved them over and said, "Look at this."

They made to step forward and Sedaxus commented, "You found it."

Nolaro explained, "Servitor probes scoured its projected orbital path, it's drifted a long way in the years but its orbit hasn't changed. Assuming this is the only Starfort in the system."

"That's the one," Sedaxus affirmed, "Ugly cesspit hasn't changed a bit."

Nolaro stated, "This is bit has. I was scouring the defences, planning a stealth infiltration via Shadowhawk, when we picked up an odd vox-message. Its low-frequency, but embedded in the message is an old cypher key, pre-heresy, one used for when feuding Legions wanted to parley."

"The Night Lords want to talk?!" Damolos yelped.

Engar explained, "Someone does, there's a personal ident embedded in the sub-channels: Xavaar."

"Xavaar?" Sedaxus mused, "I know that name, it's the Sorcerer we ran into on the planet."

Nolaro rubbed his jaw and mused, "Anything else you can tell me?"

Sedaxus elaborated, "Xavaar was a big deal in the Legion before Istvaan V. Made a feared name for himself when he depopulated Herdian Med-orbit, single-handed. By all accounts a major player in the Librarius, even had the ear of Night Haunter. Don't recall anyone saying anything about him missing all his skin, that bit must be new."

"Perverted Chaos filth," Damolos spat.

"Indeed," Nolaro agreed, "Question is: how do we respond?"

"You can't be thinking of talking to him?!" Engar yelped, "This has to be a trick."

"Of course it is," Nolaro scoffed, "But he may slip up and reveal strategic information we can use. The arrogant always do."

Sedaxus frowned under his helm and pointed out, "If we send a vox-message it will comprise the Reflex shields, you will give away our position."

"Please," Damolos snorted, "You do know who you're talking to. We can send a tight-beam vox to a Servitor probe, then use it as a relay. They'll never find us."

"It's decided," Nolaro stated, "I'm sending a counter-hail."

Sedaxus scowled under his helm but Nolaro was already fiddling with the runes, making vox-messages fly back and forth. The rotating image dissolved to be replaced by a tall Astartes, standing in midnight-clad. Sedaxus recognised him instantly, the pattern of markings on the armour as distinctive as the tanned leather mask he wore for a face. He grasped a tall staff in one hand but the other was raised palm-up, proclaiming he meant no hostility. Sedaxus didn't care though, he'd gut this wretch in a heartbeat, no matter what lies he was about to spill.

The jaw moved and seven seconds later a voice issued forth, time-lag on the remote conversation betraying the great range between Implacable Judgement and Oblivioni Cavum. Even with the finest Imperial technology physics remained a cruel mistress. The words were distorted by static but Nolaro fiddled with the runes some more until it cleared to say, "Greetings cousins, I bid ye parley."

Nolaro stepped back and glared as he spat, "We have nothing to say to you, traitor filth."

It took fourteen seconds for the message to travel there and back then Xavaar said, "And yet you replied, that exposes a curious mind."

"We aren't here to banter," Nolaro snapped, "Say what you have to say, then we can get back to killing each other."

They waited for a response and Damolos muttered, "This delay is Frakking annoying."

"Are you an Astropath?" Sedaxus snorted, "No, then put up with it."

Xavaar's reply was cool as he said, "We find ourselves in a bind, trapped in a three-way war: rebel, throne-worshippers and Orks. I seek to simplify that equation, by removing myself from the battle. I wish to negotiate free passage from this system."

"You must be jesting!" Nolaro spat.

After the delay Xavaar laughed, "Is it so comical to believe that I wish not to fight an unnecessary battle? This fight serves no purpose; it brings no benefit to either side. I wish merely to depart. I surrender this system to you: you win."

Nolaro growled, "Your deaths are value enough. Traitor scum shall never pass my watch. I won't rest until every last cur who swore to Horus is dead, if I have to track down every last one of you I will. I shall never relent!"

"You fight blindly," Xavaar snapped, "Shedding blood pointlessly!"

At that Sedaxus interrupted, "Quit oiling our cogs and get to the real point, we all know you don't expect us to let you go free."

"Huh?" Damolos started.

"He's trying to con us, playing the arrogant fool to make us complacent. He doesn't think for a second we'll let him escape unchallenged, but that's not what he wants. He wants to goad us into something else; this is just banter to soften us up."

Xavaar's eyes flashed dangerously as he snapped, "You speak carelessly."

"I've never had much use for charlatans," Sedaxus retorted, "And I know a con-man when I see one."

After the delay Xavaar sagged and said, "So be it, let's get straight to the matter at hand. You should know that I do not command the Night Lords in this Stellar System; I serve Kharkul the Red Flayer. He has gone utterly mad, concocting a scheme to rip apart the veil and let Chaos run wild among these worlds. He intends to foment a Warp Storm, to engulf the Sector."

"And this is a problem for you?" Engar hissed, "You Chaos filth revel in carnage."

"Maybe from a safe distance," Xavaar confessed, "But close enough to feel my bones turning to ash… no thank you. I very much want to live, and this scheme is not something I can survive. Nor you, the Orks or the billions of people scatted across the local stars."

Nolaro crossed his arms and said, "This Kharkul is a fool, he must be insane. He can't possibly pull this off."

"He can and he will!" Xavaar snapped, "He will kill us all, and all those innocents you are sworn to protect."

"I might consider that a small price to claim your traitorous heads," Nolaro growled.

"Don't be a blind fool," Xavaar hissed, "You fight for Terra and its empire, a dominion under threat. I offer you a chance to prevent a catastrophe and claim the head of a notorious warlord to boot. How can you say no?"

Sedaxus interrupted, "Oh, I see your angle. Noseless Man here wants to claim lordship over his band, but is too gutless to try and kill his master. So he wants us to do it for him, leaving an opening for him to step up and grab power."

"If that's what you want to believe then so be it," Xavaar hissed, "But believe me when I say Kharkul has to die, before he can complete his ritual."

Nolaro cocked his head and said, "Very well, lower the defences of your starfort and we'll fly over and kill him."

"And me!" Xavaar sneered, "Do I look stupid to you?"

"Do you really want us to answer that?" Sedaxus snorted.

Nolaro shook his head and said, "If you can't even open a door, then we have nothing to talk about."

But Xavaar spat, "Kharkul is expecting you to attack, from the moment you arrived he knew you'd be coming. He's layered traps and explosives throughout this station. He has an army of mutated Orks at his command, all lined up to close a steel trap the moment you show up. But what he doesn't know, is that I know he can't perform his ritual here. He needs a site of totemic power, a place of arcane significance. There are only a handful of such locations in system; he has to travel to one of them, leaving him exposed to a sudden strike."

Engar probed, "You know which one?"

"Not yet," Xavaar sighed, "But I can find out."

Nolaro nodded, "Do so, then vox us the coordinates, we'll do the rest."

"You show great wisdom," Xavaar said.

"Save it," Nolaro growled, "I'm only doing this to get a chance to catch your lord unprepared. Once I have his head, I'm coming for yours."

He cut the link as Engar muttered, "You do know this is a trap?"

Nolaro sniffed, "Naturally, but in that trap lies opportunity. We can pick off Night Lords a few at a time, rather than taking them all at once. I don't buy they've rigged that starfort with explosives, but I still rate our chances in an open field over a blood-soaked boarding action. So we'll first eliminate the Lord, then the liar."

Sedaxus however grunted, "Not so sure he was lying."

"You bought that fairytale about a ritual to summon a warp storm?!" Damolos scoffed.

"I don't know much about the Warp, but I know fear and Xavaar was terrified. I could see it in his eyes, he believes this Kharkul can do it and is afraid for his life. Night Lords are not adverse to risk, but to willingly throw our lives away... No, we're very much of the fight to live school of thinking, not living to fight. Xavaar was just desperate enough to be telling the truth."

Then Nolaro declared, "Either he was telling the truth and we can pick off his lord, or he's lying and we can cull some Night Lords. Either way we can kill Traitors, but we won't go in blindly, not this time. I'll tell all squads to make ready to deploy at a moment's notice. We're going back for the Night Lords and this time we will finish the job. If this is a trap we'll take it and break it over their heads!"