Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 45
The Kroozer's innards were a jumbled mess of broken hallways and collapsed bulkheads. Like a spear driven into a beast's belly the prow of Implacable Judgement had ruptured vital organs and severed essential conduits, leaving the target bleeding oil and fuel. Every step was over buckled metal, not a single panel left unwarped. The air was heavy with smoke and electrical discharge, as diced power lines haemorrhaged energy. Corridors led only to piles of debris, stairwells were crumpled into twists of wreckage and every single lift was smashed to ruin. Bodies were mangled into the debris, oozing blood constantly, making it look like the walls were bleeding. As visions of hell went this was as good as any Sedaxus had seen, and it troubled him greatly.
The strike team was racing down a munition track, one of the few remaining passages they'd found. Gravity had failed so every step was taken with mag-locked boots, making the air clang with the catch-release of Ceramite on shoddily-welded metal as they jogged along. Progress was frustratingly slow but they had the blessing of encountering no resistance, a situation Sedaxus didn't expect to last long. Every second that passed chafed though, knowing the Red Flayer was ahead of them. If he succeeded in sacrificing the Warboss then he would ascend, Xavaar had made it clear that would be the end of them all. He spared a second to count his strike team, two squads, one Deliverance-born, the other sons of Nostramo, a small unit able to pass through a porous defence but potent enough to fight through where needed, at least in theory.
"We're almost under the bridge," Engar said waving an auspex about.
"We must be the first to reach the target," Damolos eagerly exclaimed.
"Possibly," Engar sighed, "We've lost contact with all other strike teams, they're as blind in this maze as we are."
But Sedaxus growled, "Everybody knows the objective, reach the bridge and kill anything we find there. If our comrades aren't ahead of us, they won't be far behind."
"Three hundred Space Marines," Xavaar breathed, "I can only trust it's enough."
They paused as a great hatch came into view, right over their heads. It was open and inviting, warm light leaking through from the macroweapon above. Typical Ork recklessness, to place a superheavy gun right next to their bridge, a design any Techpriest would have decried as insanity. Still it worked in Sedaxus' favour. He led the team up the walls and across the roof, walking inverted in Zero-G, moving faster as the noises of fierce fighting echoed through, mixed with the hammering of bolters. Someone had beaten them to the punch. He doubled his pace and at the hatch a fizzing buzz informed them that gravity was working on the deck above. Sedaxus reached over the lintel and pulled himself over, feeling a sickening distortion pass over him as he entered the gravity field, rising into a warzone.
Around a bulging cannon a fearsome battle raged. Scrums of Greenskins roaring furiously as they threw themselves against grey-skinned shapes in the flashing light of gunfire. Mutilators, in great number, tearing through Orks with ease. The sorcerous hybrids had lost most of their humanoid outlines, becoming moving tangles of spikes and stabbing spears. Barely any skin remained, their forms devoured by the transformations inflicted upon them. Sedaxus was oddly reminded of when the VIIIth had laid siege to an Eldar Craftworld, filled with abstract art of twisted geometry and form, without an honest angle to be seen anywhere. The mutilators resembled that, only these figures could move and kill.
The fight raged on, ignoring the intruders as they crept inside. Sedaxus noted a wide door at the far end of the gundeck, right in front of the pitched battle. Yet further back was another strike team, a dozen Space Marines hunkered down under the supports of the Macrocannon itself. Swiftly the newcomers scurried over and dove in beside them, finding Cantus the Unerring Eye directing survivors to lay down defensive volleys of fire.
"Nice of you to join us!" Cantus hollered.
"Where's Sergeant Linkara?" Sedaxus growled, "He was supposed to be leading your strike team."
"See that pile of scrap over there, he's under it, along with half our group. I'm the only leader left."
"Blood in the spit," Sedaxus growled, "Right, there's no use hanging around here. We need to get into the bridge itself, before Kharkul claims his sacrifice."
"Through that lot?!" Cantus spat, "That's madness!"
Xavaar interjected, "Look how deformed the Mutilators are, they can't have long left to live."
"Too long," Sedaxus growled, "We go now."
"It'll be bloody," Cantus hissed.
"Don't be afraid little one!" laughed Juru, "I'll carry you if I have to!"
Cantus bristled at the insult to his martial pride, but Sedaxus saw Engar lining up his rifle. He waved the squads to brace for the charge, then swept his arm down, sending them racing forth. As one the Space Marines leapt out of cover, charging headlong into the fray. Orks and Mutilators finally deigned to notice them, turning to face the incoming charge with knives drawn and spears growing from bulbous forms. A wall of enemies blocked the path and Sedaxus knew their passage would carry a heavy toll, but then Engar fired.
From his rifle emerged a spinning round, flying past the charging Space Marines, as it broke apart. From the round unspooled a fine net, so thin as to be almost imperceptible. Monomolecular threads, single molecules strung together into a mesh pattern. Centrifugal force caused it to spread out into a square twenty metres wide, then it flowed over the grappling combatants. The hairline mesh passed through flesh and metal, separating molecules from one another, causing bodies to fall apart. A score of foes collapsed into neatly sliced chunks, carving an opening in the melee for the Space Marines to charge into.
"Vengeance is upon you!" Sedaxus roared as he charged into the reeling foe, feet slipping on the steaming offal strewn everywhere. An Ork came at him with a hammer made of cinderblock and a metal pole. Sedaxus swayed aside and tore out its throat with his claws. Another died with guts spilling out of a rent belly, and another to a neatly sliced-off crown. Sedaxus tore through the milling enemy, carving a path of blood, but then was confronted by a more perilous foe.
Swaying through the melee came a Mutilator, all spikes and jagged edges, so deformed Sedaxus had no idea how it moved, let alone fought. Yet it lacked nothing in ferocity as it threw silver spears at his face, ejecting long staves at random. Sedaxus felt one tear over his flank as he twisted aside, nearly disembowelled by the blow. His claws skittered off what could have been a shoulder, leaving no lasting mark as a forest of knives erupted, all trying to stab him. Sedaxus backpedalled hastily, trying to clear space but knowing time was running out.
"Let's see what this does," he growled as he raised his right hand and flung himself bodily at the Mutilator. A spear tore over his thigh, sending lances of pain into his groin but he closed with the foe and thrust his arm at the heart of it. He felt an impact and for an instant his fingers skittered over jagged fleshmetal, but then the tiny claws found the perfect resonant frequency and tore deep within. Sedaxus lurched forward as his arm plunged into the mass of spikes, scything deep within. His arm plunged up to the elbow into the mass of the Mutilator and he felt something soft brush against his hand. Instantly his fist closed about it, and he yanked back, tearing something out of the Mutilator's chest.
He staggered back and saw his hand was wrapped around a bloody heart, untouched by mutation or spikes. It dripped blood down his arm as he held it up, marvelling at the perfect nature of it. The Mutilator however began to shudder, quaking from end to end as it ground to a halt. Bulbous limbs became slow and unmoving, as the spears ceased to grow from its form. Around a jagged hole in its centre dripped black blood, oozing upon the floor. Whatever life remained in it was gone, ripped away with its heart, leaving only a statue of metal that soon ceased to move entirely.
Sedaxus threw aside the heart and looked about, seeing the battle raging. Everywhere Space Marines grappled with Orks and Mutilators, tearing furiously into each other. A Deliverance-born gunned down an Ork from behind, only to be speared through the back by a shaft growing out of nowhere. Damolos avenged the death with a sweep of Giant's Roar, carving the spiny mass into two with his Transonic axe. Three midnight-clad warriors tackled a Mutilator as one, diving through a forest of spines to land blows on its body. One of them went down, a lance driven into his neck, but the other two made it through and stabbed Obsidian Knives into the heaving fleshmetal, ending its rampage. Xavaar smashed a Mutilator aside with the blurring head of his staff, only to be nearly decapitated by another. He was saved by two Deliverance-born, ambushing the hybrid and driving their knives deep.
"Go for the hearts!" Sedaxus roared as he advanced, "Take out their hearts!"
"You do it your way and I'll do it mine!" Damolos yelled as he sliced a Mutilator in two.
Led by Sedaxus they advanced, hacking and stabbing all the while. It cost them dear, Astartes bodies left to bleed out in a trail behind. Sedaxus didn't pause though, pressing forward ceaselessly. All that mattered was reaching those doors before it was too late, before the Red Flayer claimed the Warbosses' head and became immortal. They were close, so very close, the tithe of lost kin taking them almost to the doors themselves, but then something blocked their path.
Through the doors came a lurching mechanical beast, all piston legs and buzzing blades. It waddled along on stomping feet as its barrel chest bleached smoke from towering exhaust pipes. A Killa Kan, joining the fight. It waded into the fray with a high-pitched cry of glee, its buzzsaw slamming into a Mutilator and ripping it apart. A cumbersome missile launcher tipped the other arm and let fly with a plume of rocket exhaust, blowing a Deliverance-born into tiny pieces. The Killa Kan laughed aloud, "You'ze gonna be squished by Gut'twista!"
"Frak!" Sedaxus swore, "Fallback and regroup!"
"We've got no cover!" Xavaar yelled.
"Break apart and scatter!" Sedaxus hollered, "That thing will turn us into mincemeat in the open!"
"No wait," Cantus yelled, "Look!"
From the flank came Juru, the midnight-clad warrior darting out of nowhere. How he had got so far around the flank was a mystery, but his timing was perfect. He charged at the Killa Kan, head down and arms pumping and in his hands were two bulky melta-bombs. Juru raced straight at the wheezing contraption and bellowed, "Face me you sallow wretch!"
"Come at me!" the Killa Kan scorned as it lashed out.
"Slow as you are ugly!" Juru hollered as he dived low, letting the buzzsaw pass over his head. He dove under the machine, rolling between its legs and coming up on the other side, with his hands empty. Juru threw himself aside as the Melta-bombs ignited, slagging the underside of the Kan. Metal flowed like water as the groin collapsed into itself, legs dropping off as the hips became cherry–red slurry. It fell forward with a strained cry but then the heat blasted into the interior and the Kan's occupant roasted alive in its metal shell. It fell to the deck with flames pouring out of every crack, made a bonfire too bright it hurt to look upon.
The sight sent the last Orks fleeing, their fickle courage broken and the Space Marines finished off the surviving Mutilators with swift blows. Meanwhile Juru brushed off his plate and laughed, "Fire and thunder!"
"That was... impressive," Engar hissed as he walked up from behind.
"How did you think he earned the title 'He Who Thunders'?!" Cantus laughed.
Damolos stood still in amazement and spluttered, "Why didn't I think of doing that?!"
"Ha, try to keep up old man!" Juru scoffed as he rejoined his kin.
Sedaxus shook off the stunned sensation and saw a third of his force had been laid low, killed in the fury of the melee. Thirty-one Space Marines remained, a grim tally but they had no time to wait for reinforcements, they had to act. Sedaxus hastily led them on, pressing into the light of the bridge, only to emerge to find carnage awaiting them. Across the broad sprawl of the Kroozer's bridge Orks gave battle to yet more Mutilators, the fighting within just as ferocious as it was outside, yet it was mere set dressing to the true conflict.
At the epicentre two figures fought tooth and nail, hacking and slashing with wild abandon. One in mighty Terminator plate, growing lashing whips from his hands that writhed and struck like living things. Kharkul, the Red Flayer in his element. Three Bladeslaves were tied to his belt, while a fourth dissolved into ashes, lifeforce already spent and it was understandable why. Against him was the biggest Ork any of them had ever seen, clad in mighty Megarmour and wielding a spinning drill on one arm and a massive Shoota on the other. It roared with primal fury as it laid into the Red Flayer, the bestial aggression of an entire race given form and sent into battle. It tore at the shining whips with unrestrained fury, driving Kharkul back step by step.
Sedaxus stood amazed at the might on display, two champions of their kind meeting in battle. He had no idea how he was supposed to survive in that clash of arms, let alone win through and yet his will did not falter. Driven by righteous ire he dove into the fight yelling, "Into them, for the slain, leave none alive. Vengeance is at hand!"