Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 46
Howling fury, thunderous explosions, flying bullets, bright flashes of detonating bolts, screaming pain and the smell of blood in the air, this was the reality of the bridge. Everywhere foes grappled, hacking and slashing in an insane dance of death. Orks, Space Marines and mutants tore into one another, in a frantic three-way battle without any sense of control or direction. Mutilators tore through packs of Orks, only to be brought down by Obsidian Blades driven into their hearts. In turn Astartes were mobbed by blood-mad Greenskins, hacking and stabbing with unrestrained wroth. There was no way to tell who was winning, no way to count the dead, all that could be done was fight whatever foe next arose and try to stay alive for the next few seconds.
Sedaxus himself was locked into a wrestling match with a snarling Greenskin of prodigious size. He'd been hacking his way to the centre of the bridge when he'd run into this one. He'd thought it would be a moment's effort to despatch it, but the Xeno had other ideas. A pair of meaty hands were wrapped around his helm, jerking him back and forth like a ragdoll. It was dressed in crude leathers and had a belt heavy with stickbombs, while misted googles hung over its eyes. His claws slashed and hacked at the flanks, letting turgid blood flow but the Ork barely seemed to notice. He was being tossed about with force enough to break a mortal's spine and even for Transhuman sinews it was agonising. The Ork screamed into his eyes, revealing fat fangs and a maw made black by rotting food, the smell leaking through his autosenses was atrocious and he nearly gagged as the Ork threw him back against a wheezing cogitator stack.
Sedaxus' back roared in protest as the impact made his vertebrae dance. He tried to land a punch but the Ork pulled him near then slammed him back again, shaking his bones and making teeth rattle. He tasted his own blood on his tongue and knew another impact would snap his spine, but resolved he wasn't going to die to this filth.
As the Ork heaved him near Sedaxus reversed course, instead of pulling back he pressed forward, wrapping his arms around its waist. The Ork blinked in confusion but Sedaxus' hands scrabbled at its belt, then found what he was looking for. He pulled his hands back and held them up before its face, revealing the metal rings dangling from his fingers, the pins of the stickbombs on its back. The Ork gawped comically for a moment as Sedaxus shoved it hard with his shoulder, throwing it away several paces. A moment later the bombs went off, blasting bits of oozing meat in a wide circle over its struggling comrades.
Sedaxus had bought a moment to regroup and saw the battle raging. Everywhere he saw acts of bravery and savagery play out, heroism and knavery in equal measure. Nearby a Deliverance-born fought back-to-back with a Son of Nostramo, defending each other nobly, until a pack of Greenskin overwhelmed them both and cut them down. Juru was battling an Ork who fought with a heavy club, rather than trying to combat it directly he shoved it hard, sending it stumbling into a Mutilator to be torn to shreds. Xavaar fought with his stave, using the vibrating head to blast enemies away and send them flying away as broken pieces. It was bedlam and carnage yet ultimately just a sideshow.
At the epicentre of the fight Kharkul fought the Ork Warlord, the scope of their duel making all else irrelevant. The Red Flayer lashed out with snaking whips from his hands, flashing silver coils tearing and stabbing with unearthly speed. Nothing should have survived that assault; no living thing could withstand such fury but the Ork did so anyway. Thick armour shrugged off blows and in return a ponderous drill ripped and tore, severing tendrils as fast as Kharkul could regrow them. The size and might of the Xeno was heartstopping, and Sedaxus didn't dare to imagine who would win this fight.
"You must die!" Kharkul bellowed, "Die, so I can ascend!"
"You'ze picked a fite with Hed'breka Irongutz!" the Ork roared, "Big mistake!"
The Ork brought its mighty fist about and slammed the drillhead into Kharkul's midriff, tearing armour like parchment. The Red Flayer staggered as one of his Bladeslaves began to wither away but his recovery was brought up short as the Ork's knee smote hard, making him lurch away with no balance. Sedaxus dared to think the moment had come to strike but before he could move the Ork brought up his other arm and let rip with a massive shoota.
Burning rounds flew away in a torrent, smashing into everything in sight. Kaharkul was struck repeatedly but also Orks, Mutilators, Space Marines, the walls, the ceiling and the floor. If the Ork was making any attempt to aim it wasn't working, he merely sprayed wild and decimated everything around. Sedaxus was struck by a trio of flaming bullets, cratering his Ceramite badly. One round found the gap where thigh met hip and he collapsed in pain as fiery agony ate at his bones. He tried to get out of the way but was slowed and right in the path of the onslaught. But suddenly a shadow appeared in front of him, Damolos, setting his broad shield in the way and kneeling behind the ad hoc cover. Sedaxus heard many rounds pinging off the thick plate as Damolos jerked under the rain of hot lead.
For moments the pair sheltered behind the shield, as Sedaxus pulled the bullet from his hip with bloodied digits, then the hail of bullets cut out and a bestial roar spilt the room. Damolos glanced over the rim of his shield and remarked, "You know how worried we were that Kharkul would kill the warboss?"
"Yes?" Sedaxus replied warily.
"I don't think we should have worried so much."
He lifted his shield to reveal Hed'breka charging at the Red Flayer. He was an avalanche in motion, a force of nature let loose and nothing could stand in his path. A Mutilator veered into the way only to be eviscerated in one blow. An Ork happened to be laying in his path and was splattered over the floor by a heavy boot. Hed'breka suffered nothing to get between him and the Red Flayer, shaking the deck with every tread.
The pair slammed together with another clash of metal on fleshmetal and Sedaxus snarled, "We have to get in there!"
"I'm open to suggestions!" Damolos retorted.
"Xavaar, you alive?"
"Surprisingly yes!" the Sorcerer yelled back.
"Give me darkness!" Sedaxus hollered.
From the Sorcerer's position came a tide of inky black, spreading over the room like spilled oil. It washed over the struggling combatants and they lost all vision, their sight stolen, even Sedaxus left unable to see anything. Orks ground to a halt as they wailed in confusion, even Mutilators stumbling in dismay. The Space Marines however didn't need eyes to find their way, Deliverance-born or sons of Nostramo, all were born in dark places and knew it as no other could.
Sedaxus rose to his feet and ran to where he knew the pair were battling on. Even with no sight he could hear them well enough, and picked out their location. His claws thirsted for blood and he swore he would kill them both. Yet he forgot that Kharkul was also a son of Nostramo. An almighty crash came ringing out, followed by the clatter of toppling girders and a frustrated cry of rage.
"Light!" Sedaxus yelled and vision came back with a flash. Kharkul was revealed, standing alone. Before him was a massive pile of debris, constantly being added to as more bits of shorn metal rained down. It was formed by broken girders and supports, where Hed'breka had shattered them with his bulk. The warboss was under there, somewhere, but Sedaxus had no time to wonder if he was dead, the fight was at hand.
The Smoke Jaguar launched himself at Kharkul's back, only to find a silver whip coming at his face. He jerked aside at the last instant as Kharkul lumbered about and growled, "You again, I thought I'd finished you off!"
"We don't die so easily!" Damolos hollered as he laid in with his axe, battling to keep whips at bay.
"For Arkqas!" Xavaar yelled as he joined the fray.
"My treacherous minion!" Kharkul laughed, "So you escaped my trap. How delightful, I was going to kill everybody once I ascended, but now I get to take your head before I claim my sacrifice!"
"I'll kill you first!" Xavaar yelled back as a forest of lashing whips battered at his stave.
Sedaxus was fending off a pair of darting coils, his claws barely able to keep up. Kharkul was blurring behind his sinuous tendrils, barely able to be seen, so thick and fast were they. It was all Sedaxus could do to defend himself and he saw he would never break through this way. Desperately he called, "Engar, tell me you have a shot!"
"Barely," Came the reply from nowhere.
"Just take it!" Sedaxus snarled.
The air whined as a round came out of nowhere, fired from wherever the elusive sniper had concealed himself. It was a fine shot, perfectly judged to take out the Red Flayer's head but the lashing coils caught the round and deflected it, straight into one of the Bladeslaves. The victim reeled, with blood gushing from a shoulder and Kharkul lurched, psychic feedback making him stagger. Instantly the trio leapt into the fray, hacking and stabbing for all they were worth. Damolos laid in with his axe, slicing whips apart, Xavaar bashed with his stave, driving Kharkul to his knees and Sedaxus jumped onto his back, driving claws into the spine, trying to punch through the Terminator armour.
Kharkul was beset on all sides, battered and breaking but far from defeated. He roared in fury as he rose to his feet, throwing arms wide. Damolos spun away, hitting the ground hard to roll over. Xavaar screeched backwards on his heels trying to keep Kharkul's whips from gutting him and Sedaxus was picked from his perch and hurled bodily away, slamming into the deck with a crunch that betrayed breaking ribs.
Kharkul loomed over him and snarled, "You fool, I am beyond you! This is no age for Astartes, it is a time of gods. I have grown mighty in ways you can't imagine. You have nothing compared to me, no strength, no power, no eternity to come!"
Sedaxus clutched his side as he looked up and then said, "You're right, I haven't got any of those things. But there's something else I seem to be lacking... I seem to have misplaced my pistol."
Kharkul started in shock as a high pitched whine resonated from behind his neck His head flashed to the side and he spied Sedaxus' plasma pistol buried in the gap between skull and gorget, its capacitors straining with overloading energy. "No!" Kharkul screamed as his hands rose to pluck it out, but his thick coils could not grasp the rounded surfaces of its barrel. Frantically he formed his hands into swords, spears, knives, maces and cudgels but none of them could grasp so small an object, his weapons proving useless to do something so trivial as pick up a pistol. Then the coils overloaded with blinding heat.
Sedaxus threw up his arm before his face as the Red Flayer disappeared into a ball of seething sunfire. Armour melted, flesh broiled and molecules parted as Kharkul was vaporised, yet Sedaxus didn't rejoice. One of the remaining Bladeslaves threw up his arm as he began to flake away, his lifeforce draining to restore the Red Flayer. Under the influence of spellcraft Kharkul's dissipation reversed, his body flowing back into being before their very eyes.
"Quickly, kill the last one!" Damolos yelled in desperation.
"No, wait!" Sedaxus barked.
"For what?!"
"Trust me, just grab him!"
Damolos wrapped his hands around the last Bladeslaves' arms and held him still as Kharkul rebuilt himself from raw atoms. Ashen flakes came together to make bones, then muscles, then internal organs, sinew and skin. Armour regrew like liquid metal poured into a mould, perfectly restored as if nothing had ever marked it. Kharkul's head grew back, then his face and awareness shone from those eyes, a depthless burning hatred and the promise of revenge.
"Whatever you're going to do, better do it now," Xavaar gulped in dread.
"One more second," Sedaxus breathed.
"I don't think we have one," Damolos spat as Kharkul's eyes opened.
"Now!" Sedaxus snarled as he rammed his twin claws into the Bladeslaves' heart.
The effect was instant, the mortal jerked in Damolos' grip but it was Kharkul who screamed in agony. He fell to his knees, one hand clutched his chest, where blood began to ooze through still liquid metal. Sedaxus twisted his wrist to and fro, widening the wound as Kharkul screamed in torment, "Raaaaargh!"
"What's happening?!" Damolos exclaimed utterly mystified.
"See how he reacted when one of them got shot?!" Sedaxus rejoiced, "He felt it, the link between them, it's a two-way process."
"He bound their lifeforce to him, but in doing so unwittingly bound his to theirs," Xavaar gasped, "His lifeforce is being drained to save the slave."
"This can't happen!" Kharkul spluttered as blood leaked from his mouth, "I was to become a god, the Daemons promised me."
"This is the result of your overreaching," Xavaar spat contemptuously, "I warned you not to heed the lies of Chaos."
"No, no, no," Kharkul gargled through a stream of bloody vomit, "Immortality... was mine to..."
"Just die," Sedaxus growled as he tore his claws upwards, ripping the Bladeslaves' heart out.
Kharkul' spewed blood, then collapsed, his lifeforce spent. The Bladeslaves' heart began to grow back as the Red Flayer turned to ashes, but Sedaxus' claws swept about, taking the head off completely. At last the Red Flayer was no more and silence fell across the bridge. Orks and Mutilators all culled in the fight, leaving the Space Marines victorious.
"We..." Damolos breathed in amazement, "We did it."
"I can't believe it," Xavaar exclaimed.
Yet Sedaxus grinned, "Believe it, we just..."
His victory cry was cut off by a deep rumble, emanating from the piled debris. Metal shifted and cascaded down as something huge stirred beneath, rising with a bestial cry. All of them spun to face the piled metal as the Ork Warboss rose to his feet, battered and bruised but very much alive. His armour was scored and bent but entirely intact and his beady eyes were filled with ire. Hed'breka Irongutz looked upon them and snarled, "You'ze killed Bloody Red-hands, dat was my head ta claim. Now I'm gonna kill all a' ya!"